Burning Future

Before pressing the doorbell button I took a deep breath. A shiver unexpectedly ran down my spine though it was not that cold. No, it wasn’t cold at all. It is never cold in April. But the wind was cool. And fast. I felt my hair waft this way and that, in a way pulling me away from the door of Alok’s house. I fumbled in my purse, extracted a hairband and summarily arrested my tresses in a ponytail.

I was suddenly aware that I had been standing on the doorstep for over a minute... Why was that, I wondered. Was I consciously deferring the moment I had to get in? Was I afraid to see him?

Of course not – I snapped at my uncertain mind. If I was afraid I wouldn’t have come in the first place. And what was there to be afraid of? I had known this house for years... precisely a quarter of my 28 years. I used to visit this place before Alok had proposed to me, so there was no reason why I could not – or should not – do so after I broke up with him. We were friends after all. After all.

I saw my index finger rise and move towards the tiny push-button.

Would he be expecting me?

Of course, he would. It was he who had called and asked me to come over.

Why though?

Who knows...?

The tip of my index finger was one centimetre away from the button. The sun was about to set. I had an hour, perhaps, before people at my house would start looking for me... I wasn’t allowed to stay out late.

I pushed the button.

The sound was the same as ever – Ding Dong! But it made me shiver... What was I doing here? What about all the promises of not seeing him, not meeting him... What about being a good girl till I was married off... Why did I come here?

Because he wanted to meet.

Was that reason enough?

The door opened before I could answer myself.

At one glance it was apparent that he was alone in the house. It wasn’t written over his face. No, he wasn’t happy about it, not sad either, indifferent actually. Still... he opened the door in shorts and an old half-shirt... totally indecent. Evidence enough.

He smiled weakly as he ushered me inside and locked the door behind us. I tried to think if this was an inappropriate behaviour – but my heart was fluttering wildly sending little blood to my brain to think. I felt dizzy. Perhaps all my blood was shunted to my adrenals.

My eyes were open but all I could see were a million fantasies I had for a situation like this – when he would lock the door... If only he had done it before the separation...

He was trembling slightly and he was pale. This registered in my mind and I was pulled back into the present.

“What’s the matter,” I asked, failing miserably in my attempt to keep my voice casual and unconcerned. I knew it. But I had to try – after all, we were broken up.

“Thank you for coming, M–Menka.”

It was so odd to hear my own name in his voice. He had used my full name after, maybe, half a decade. I suddenly felt that I liked him calling me ‘Men's’ more. My throat was constricted somehow. Not only could I not speak, I felt difficulty in breathing, too.

I knew the end of our relationship had broken him. He suffered more than me – well, in some respects, at least. Looking at him today made me want to forget everything – family, society, life... everything. But – BUT – I had taken my decision of parting ways after considering every alternative, every scenario... this one included.

My throat cleared. With a straight face and steady voice, I said, “Why did you want to see me?”

This was rude for me to be asking him this question. I could see his indecision too well. He was fighting himself. He did want to say or do something but with me standing in front of him in person made him doubt his thoughts. I yearned to hug him, to just let him know that anything was fine with me. That he shouldn’t worry at all.

“W–Would you comet–to my room...please?”

I walked ahead of him careful not to let any part of my body touch any part of his. Touch can have disastrous effects on self-control.

There was a strange smell in his bedroom. It was his room freshener alright, but it was something else too, making the whole air a bit...pungent. But I ignored it and sat on his bed. After a moment’s thoughts, I took my sandals off and settled on the bed reclining on a couple of pillows – my favourite position.

Alok took his slippers off and clambered on the bed sitting as close to me as possible without touching. In that move, I noticed something that clearly told me that he hadn’t worn any underwear.

The observation disturbed me.

I was afraid to think what he was planning to do and I actually wanted him to do what I obviously thought he was about to do. Obviously I was confused.

But he said in that same weak voice, “I miss you. Every day...every moment.”

My heart stopped, as did my breathing.

“I don’t know how to say it... it seems filmy, I know. But I can not live without you.”

His earnestness was killing me. Not only he was saying to me exactly what I had been forcing myself not to say to him, but he was also saying it in a voice which made me shudder. I could feel the surrender he had made to his own heart. I was aware of the attempts he had made to move on. And now I could see the effect the failure of each attempt had on him.

I felt him shrinking in front of me... then I realized my eyes had welled with tears.

He hadn’t finished.

“It wasn’t your fault that we couldn’t be together,” he didn’t believe it but I knew it wasn’t his fault either. “But as it is, I find myself unable to forget you.”

I couldn’t speak.

“I know you do, yet I want to ask you – do you still love me?”

I couldn’t hold on any longer. Any moment now my heart would burst open through all the barriers I had consciously erected around it and gain control of my body and soul. And I would do all those things which are incorrect, unethical, irrational, sinful, and of course detrimental to my future and the future of my family.

I extended my arm. I touched him.

He understood. It was my answer. An affirmative.

I was crying now. I knew what was going to ensue and I knew I would regret it. I wanted to push him away and run back to my home. And I wanted to stay with him, to love him until I died. Two choices! Which one should I choose... but as I said – I knew what I was going to do already. There were no choices. There was just destiny.

He embraced me, let me cry over his shoulder. He was trembling. He was cold. But he was mine. Now and forever.

When the last of my sobs dried out, he drew back and smiled at me. I smiled, too.

He lit the candle he had kept on the bedstand.

I asked what that was for and he said, “You are too concerned about future... that is our future burning.”

Then he removed his shirt, then his shorts. This was the point of no return. I could run away and forget that this evening ever existed in my life... but as I said... there were no choices.

I made to remove my dupatta, he held my hand.

He said, “Touch me.”

I touched his soft lips with the tips of my fingers, then felt his neck, at his chest, I could feel the thumping of his heart. I sat up and embraced his naked body, burying my face in his chest.

A moment later he forcefully freed himself of me and threw me back on the bed. No pillows this time. I was supine. He jumped over me and kissed my lips fiercely. I could feel my breath being sucked out of me. He knew I liked it. He was over me, his weight crushing my small body. He knew I liked it. His hands were inside my clothes touching me all over. He knew I liked it.

Only a thousand times we had done this, stopping just short of intercourse – for the sake of my virginity which I wanted to save for the future. I knew he wouldn’t stop today. I didn’t want him to.

He withdrew giving me time to breathe before he crushed me again. He removed my dupatta. It was attached with a safety pin to my suit. He knew it. But he wasn’t interested in fumbling with safety pins today. He pulled roughly, I heard the thin cloth tear.

A voice inside my head screamed, saying things like how would I explain that at home, etc. I didn’t have the courage to acknowledge the warnings.

A moment later I felt his hands on my chest. He gripped my suit at the neckline and tore it as if the thousand bucks dress was merely a paper plane.

Again my inner voice – again my reluctance to listen.

And somewhere deep within, my heart knew that this was what I wanted. To feel helpless. Too afraid of the future to actually fear it.

Because the future was burning.

In less than a minute I was naked, my dress in pieces. My eyes were closed. And I was happy.

The future was burning.

He attacked my breasts like a hungry wolf. I felt pain. I felt pleasure.

I responded. I bit him, dug my nails in his skin. I knew he liked it.

I was breathless. I was almost paralysed, not knowing anything outside the two of us. I wasn’t aware of the two drops of tears that escaped the corners of my eyes until he asked what was wrong.

“I don’t know,” was the only response I could find. Somehow I added, “Don’t stop.”

Yes, I didn’t know whether the pain of my defloration gave me pleasure or the pleasure of finally being one with him gave me pain. In my numb mind, a message flashed – ‘DOESN’T MATTER!’

Then after a very, very long time, everything slowed down. We were both covered in sweat and satisfaction. But neither of us could smile though I tried and felt he was trying, too. The ‘DOESN’T MATTER!’ signal flashed again.

He was kissing me again. I was breathless again. His hands were busy in stimulating my neck... but something was different. His fingers were different. It felt as if he was doing something else. And I was really out of breath this time.

While I kiss I always forget having a pair of nostrils for breathing. And presently I was fighting for breath. Nothing new, I thought. I tried to breathe through my nose. Nothing happened. I tried again...

He released me from the kiss.

It took me one full minute to breathe enough to oxygenate my asphyxiating brain, another minute to notice a sharp stinging sensation at the neck where his hands had been doing something.

But despite my rational thoughts screaming gibberish in my mind, I smiled, “You almost killed me!”

He was smiling now.

I wondered why a part of my neck burnt. Then I saw what he had in his hands – an empty syringe.

I didn’t understand anything. Not even when he filled the syringe with a milky liquid from a half-empty vial. Nothing when he pushed the injection into his neck vein.

He was smiling.

I thought I ought to smile too. I did. Though I couldn’t smile fully. I felt exhausted. And the pungent smell was not helping my exhausted and strangely clouded brain. I lay down trying to rest as I felt him reaching close to me, touching at the most sensitive spots. I cringed, then moaned... or at least tried to.

I noticed that the burning candle was almost finished. Then I saw that the torn pieces of my favourite suit were too close to the stub of the candle. They could catch fire as the candle sunk lower. And some pieces of clothes were in contact with the bed too.

My mind made tediously difficult speculation – if the fire from the candle ignited the clothes, the bed sheet might burn, too...

My eyelids were heavy. I allowed them to curtain my eyes. The smell became acute as my sense of vision shut down – yes, I knew that smell... I got the same smell when I went to the pump to fuel my scooty. I didn’t like the smell. But I did like the kiss

And he was kissing me.

This smell of fuel was coming from almost every inch of the bed sheet as if it was soaked in petrol and dried. And the liberal spray of room freshener was to mask that smell.

His kisses were too slow... as if he was too exhausted, just like me. May be it was due to the injection. The ‘DOESN’T MATTER!’ signal flashed, this time in different colours inside my skull. I smiled. In fact, I chuckled. With that chuckle my eyelids snapped open, only to droop a second later.

But in that second I saw that the bed on which I and Alok had made love was on fire. But I couldn’t feel anything. No heat, no pain. The candle was nowhere to be seen. The future had burnt out.

I giggled. Then slept.