Moyurakhkhi's Cigarettes

7| Cotton Candy

"God, they're everywhere," I muttered.

"Think of it like a visit to the zoo," Sahal said, making me snort.

The summer evening cast a warm glow over Ramna Park. It'd rained this afternoon and raindrops clung to every leaf, grass and pebble in view. Cawing and cooing of birds rung out from kodom (burflower) trees in full bloom. On the yellow spherical flowers, white hairs bristled and spread a lovely sweet fragrance.

Ironically, romance spoiled the lovely atmosphere for me - I couldn't walk five steps without spotting an affectionate couple rubbing off my single-ness in my face.

Fizz and Debasish blended in perfectly, arms entangled as they walked down the red-brick path a few metres ahead of us. It was their second anniversary, and I was third-wheeling, as always. I was spectacular at it by now. Seriously, people should consider hiring me as one. But Sahal was new to the clownery.

"We should leave them alone," I said when the two sat down on a weathered stone bench. "Trust me, it gets a little gross henceforth."

Sahal grinned. I noticed that it formed dimples on his freckles cheeks, deeper on one side than the other. "Do you casually use 'henceforth' in everyday conversation?"

"I started it as a joke, I swear. But henceforth it got stuck."

Multi-coloured hawai mithai, cotton candy, stuck out from a rod that rested on a vendor's shoulder. He leaned against a kodom tree, trying to light his cigarette.

"Let's get those, my treat," I said. Fishing out the plastic tub of Mentos from my pocket, I pulled out a twenty taka note.

Sahal peered at the curled-up notes and coins inside. "Is that why they call you Mentos?"

"Exactly."

"Cool," he said with innocent wonder. "What about 'Fizz'?"

I snorted. "She used to be obsessed with Mustafizur Rahman 'Fizz' when we were kids, it was hilarious. When his cricket matches were on, she would literally drool at the TV."

He laughed. The vendor stood upright, squishing a kodom flower under his flip-flop.

We continued strolling, chewing on the cotton candy. The sides of my new sneakers were coated with mud by now. Fizz had said that I liked Sahal because I was wearing new sneakers and some perfume today.

He stopped abruptly. "Hey, do you hate me?"

I groaned. "I don't hate you!"

He made a face.

"Look, I just - don't like flirts."

The way I behaved with Sahal the first day wasn't me. Being an expert at overanalyzing my own actions, I concluded that I was over-generalising - Sahal and Arsh weren't the same. It is the principle of the action that matters, not just the action itself. Sahal was single, of course he could flirt with whomever he wanted. But Arsh sloshed around with other girls while convincing me that we were in a serious relationship. The way he bullied me into thinking that I was too sensitive for protesting - that was the problem.

"I'm not a flirt!" he exclaimed.

This time, I made the face.

"Wait, maybe I am," he said. "It's just for fun, though."

"You know, the other person might take it seriously someday."

"Well," Sahal began, motioning for me to walk. "Then I'd have to make it clear that there's no way I'll date anyone right now. I'm just focusing on studies and extracurriculars so that I get into a good university abroad."