Prakash Nagarajan

Prakash Nagarajan

Short story -

* An affair to remember! *

I still remember the day when my family had come to know of it! All hell had broken out! My mother had thrown a fit; my father, back home tired from work, had on learning about it imparted a stinging slap across my face even as my little sister cowered in a corner, out of fright!

I had stood sullen, frightened yet insolent enough to mutter “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

I was shivering with fear and had tremors on my knees at his sudden outburst of anger and assault.

No…? You don’t realize your mistake? What do you eat…? …Food or cow-dung?

It was not what he said…but the way he said it.

It impelled me to retaliate. “I know what is good for me and what isn’t!” I said, muttering under my breath.

“So you have grown to be a big man now, is it?” he said in an ominous tone, advancing towards me in a menacing way.

I cringed expecting yet another slap. But my mother intervened, pleading with him to maintain calm and not to hit me.

“He won’t! I will ensure he doesn’t!” she said breaking down, even as she beseeched me silently, with tearful eyes not to back answer my father. I acquiesced to keep peace.

I was a rebel without cause. You could blame it on my age. But the fact remained; his iron ferrule approach to make me toe line was not helping any, and if at all, was only making matters worse. It made me even more adamant.

My father calmed down, but not before issuing an ultimatum, of threatening to take me out of school, if I persisted in my recalcitrant ways.

It was an illicit affair right from the beginning. Of it there was no doubt. Maybe my insecurities propelled me to it. But the temptations it threw my way were far too great to resist!

They say college romances are common place. True…but mine started while I was in school!

Hardly, the age to have an affair you might say!

But that is when it all began. I was hardly fourteen. I was a novice in these matters and hardly inclined towards it. Yet my affair remained torrid till it lasted!

Coming from an impoverished family and born to strict parents, I had a modest and conservative upbringing. Meek by nature, I was prone to remain an introvert. My friends, in more ways, were far more dashing than me, living life with gay abandon. They flirted boldly where I floundered badly!

And it was not before long, I became a butt of their ridicule. They say peer pressure is highest at that age. And so it was for me!

My timidity exposed, it gave them a chance to poke fun and rile me. Perhaps it remained the only way whence I could assert my manliness among our gang to be accepted.

…And I indulged in it!

Speaking for myself, I am sure it was not love at first sight! In fact the whole idea repelled me. But still the courtship had to happen…

Happen, it did! ...and how! It flourished!

Sure enough, it made me a hero among my friends. They started looking at me with awe.

You may find this cheap, but the fact was she was easily available! It was not a respectable association by any means. But my flirtations had begun, turning before long in to a full-fledged affair.

Most of my lonely hours were spent in her company. My fingers around her, what else did I need in this world? How do I describe those feelings of mine? The feelings of exhilaration I experienced in those moments of our togetherness were far beyond this world! Perhaps, we were made for each other. So slender, fair and ever so light…she literally glowed in my presence. Over the years she became my muse, my constant companion. I could not imagine a life without her. Wallowing in the heady feeling she gave me, I basked in her fragrance. I became far too attached with her, refraining myself from even visiting places where she was not welcome.

However, she was my secret love. So, I consciously kept her away from prying eyes, living in constant fear, lest we be spotted by some nosy neighbour.

With passing years, my own personality underwent a change. A sophomore in college, I had become far more dapper. Sophisticated and stylish…were the terms my batch mates used to describe me, though I accept, a fair share of the credit should also have gone to her for adding to my charms.

My voice had matured, turning manly in an attractive way, though I will admit a certain amount of hoarseness had developed in to it.

I will let you know with a lot of pride, for a fact, I had a tenor similar to that of a reigning superstar…! My only trifling worry at that point in time was the niggling cough that had started intercepting my monologues.

It pissed me off no end, when my friends teased me by turn, saying it was because I took her to my lips too often. I knew it was nothing but their jealousy that was speaking out. The fact was she was far more intimate with me, than she could ever be with them!

Life for me was as comfortable as it could ever be. I was in my final year of college, when fate dealt a sorry blow. My father passed away plunging us in to a deeper dark hole. We were without financial support. My mother struggled alone to keep us afloat in life and in society, through all of these. Though never vocal about it, I guessed she expected me to shoulder a little of those burdens of our family. My sister was coming of age and would be time soon to see her off in marriage.

Before long, I had landed for myself a job as an overseer for a construction firm in the nearby town. Though meagre paying I happily accepted it. I realised, I was not a graduate still; and if it was going to supplement my family income, that was all I desired.

The only problem encountering me was, being located in a under construction building bereft of lift yet, I had to climb stairs daily to reach up to the fourth floor for my work station. An exercise which left me totally breathless! And the fact that I had to engage in it several times a day proved to be sheer torture for me. I would inevitably find myself halting at the landings to catch my breath or simply grip my abdomen to ease the acute pain I began experiencing.

My co-workers, lowly labourers, would simply laugh at me for being endowed with such weak body constitution. I learned to ignore them by remaining studiedly aloof.

Yet, looking back, I realise now, it was they who saved my life. I still remember the day…work at the site was at full swing. I had to come down to the third floor for some urgent errand. There was cement powder floating all over, with the landing too being utilised to sift sand. I felt suffocated. It triggered a severe bout of coughing in me. I must have snorted in, at some point, inhaling fine particles of cement powder in the process. I started violently sneezing. The noisy machines, the loud voices of labourers engaged in fervent activity, the polluting environment all at once took its toll, as I sat on my haunches, feeling tizzy. Gasping and struggling, I was neither able to inhale or exhale. Feeling smothered and unable to breathe, panic struck me; even as I thought I will surely die.

The world around me grew darker and darker and I passed out in a collapse…

It was quite late in night, when my eyes opened to consciousness. I found myself on a hospital bed, and being gazed at by my mother with anxiety-writ face and extreme sadness.

Keeping a palm across my forehead, “How are you feeling…?” She asked, in a voice showing relief even while it quavered.

“…” I whispered, my voice failing me. Feeling thoroughly exhausted, I felt I had swum the ocean.

“The doctors say you will have to remain in the hospital for many more days…they mention some detoxification… of lungs needing to be washed off nicotine and tar… or some such thing. A long process…and costly, they have added.”

In a sudden change of tone, she added vehemently, “…If only you had paid heed! Your father and I, our voices must have turned hoarse shouting, to warn you keep away from her! …from…that, that vile habit of yours! You never listened! Why, I will bet my life, if given a chance, you will simply choose her than us!”

You, my bright readers, would surely have guessed by now, all talks of my love were mere allusions to my addiction for cigarettes!

“If feeling ill is not bad enough, being lectured for it only adds to making me more depressed…” I thought morosely, not realising, I was being unreasonable or ungrateful, if not both!

Not letting up, she continued “…It is still thanks to your dear departed father that we managed, at least, to get you admitted to this Government hospital, a perquisite we still enjoy, in courtesy of his long relentless service! …Otherwise we could never have been able to afford the costs of your treatment!”

Much as I hated to admit it…her words tore into my thick skull as I slowly became aware of their import.

…and if being confirmed to having severe problems of acidity were not my only present woes, the doctors soon proclaimed gravely that I had contracted tuberculosis!

I was devastated! I had fallen in to a deeper abyss…

…and my mother, on her part, if tense and depressed with its news; never allowed it to reflect on her face, lest it add to my worries. She would religiously give me my doses of medicines even while accompanying me in my visits to the doctor. Thus began my rounds around hospital over the next few years even as I fought the dreaded disease.

But through it all, I exhibited withdrawals symptoms. I became restless and fraught with anxiety. I could not do without her. Many a times I became tempted to indulge in her. But it was thanks to my sister and mother; I was able to hold my course.

Four years down the line, when it is all over now, I don’t have any qualms to admitting it. I had become totally dependent on her. I didn’t think I would ever fall in love again. I know that everyone says that after heartbreak, but the difference is that I’m not heartbroken. I’m not cynical, or pessimistic or sad. I’m just someone who once felt something bigger than anything else I’d ever felt and when I lost it, I honestly believed I would never have that again. But…I was 22 then and life is long. And I’m feeling things right now that I haven’t in a long, long time.

Having met a beautiful girl in my colony, I have fallen in love with her and due to marry her soon!

But I still recollect my very last visit to the hospital. While sitting in his cabin, the old doctor had held the X-ray films of my lungs and chest against light, carefully scrutinizing them before announcing cheerfully “You are out of it, young ‘un! You are perfectly cured of it now.”

…and folding his spectacle glasses, he had added slowly “A wonderful man; your father, a good friend of mine…If those mean anything to you, I will offer you a piece of advice. Stay away from these vices and you will be better off for it. If at all, a nice young man like you should be seen amidst beautiful female company and not frittering away his life to such wild passions!”

Shrinking back in mock horror, I had laughed with relief even while exclaiming, “Female company, you say?! Anything but that doctor…! I am lucky to have recovered, still; having learnt to my dismay that cigarette in itself is a feminine noun!”

© Prakash Nagarajan

India