Silent Downfall

Chapter Twenty-Two

The dimmed fern-green lamp quivered helplessly before the dominating darkness. The air was heavy with humble silence and the lingering aroma of attar, amidst which, on a velvet prayer mat, sat Waseef. His hands were raised before God, and fresh drops of tears rolled down from his closed eyes, complementing his mute supplication.

From a little distance away, a pair of sleepless eyes bore witness to his innocent prayer. He wondered if the lost piece of one's shattered heart was too much to ask for. If not, how long could it take for the wish to be granted?

About half an hour later, the same pair of eyes observed Waseef with amazement as he stood by the window, wiping the dust off Fayzan's favorite toy car.

The meager light from outside revealed a smile on his sober face.

**********

Mayank's eyelids trembled for a brief moment before setting his vision free. Despite the momentary trouble caused by the scarcity of light, it eventually got along with the surrounding darkness. He turned his head to the side, where the kid was fast asleep. Following a moment of stillness, the all-rounder slowly got up to sit. His head was awfully calm. Calm enough to make him doubt the veracity of the lingering memories from hours ago.

Letting out a sigh, he got down from the bed and walked toward the door. There was not much to see, yet it kept him captivated for a couple of minutes. Something did not feel right. He offered his head a vigorous shake before heading back toward the bed.

His perplexed gaze found the boy again. He was still in deep sleep, unaware of his plight. The silly photo album rested on him, rhythmically going up and down with his chest. Mayank took a seat and indifferently stretched his arm to grab the album. Worm-watching could not be the most terrible way to kill time, he thought, especially when he was reluctant to engage in anything that involved hammering his mind; he could use some rest.

Mayank picked up the torch from the table and switched it on. The escaping light illuminated the face of Waseef Ibrahim, whose arms were merrily wrapped around a teammate the observer did not know. He moved on to the next page, where, to his chagrin, the bloke was in the company of Aanvik Kumar. Mayank raised an eyebrow, struggling to suppress the desire to slap his captain's chin off Waseef's shoulder. Responding to the queer twist in his heart that was quite independent of Aanvik's presence in the photo, he quickly shifted to the following page. Waseef's entire team welcomed him with jubilant smiles and a sparkling trophy, yet it appeared to be a more pleasant sight than the previous one. Mayank brushed his graze across the next few photos. Nothing significant.

He was ready to dismiss the next one as just as uninteresting, but his eyes lingered longer than usual. He leaned in to have a closer look.

Two minutes went by, with the all-rounder transfixed by the photo before his eyes. Five minutes. No movement. Seven minutes. Then many more.

His mind at last began to make an attempt to process what was going on. As it did, his blood ran cold. The next photo did not help either. Nor the one that followed.

Mayank did not want to wait for his quivering limbs to calm down. Jumping off the bed, he made a beeline to his bag and retrieved his infamous notebook. He opened the very first page and laid it on the floor, right beside the album. The light found the photo on the notebook with the word 'enemy' scribbled under it. Then it moved to the one on the album. The process was repeated several times. To the all-rounder's dismay, the outcome refused to work in his favor.

He shoved the notebook back into his bag before placing his back against the wall. The torch and the album lied unattended. 

Sending his raven eyes behind the firmly shut lids, he mildly shook his head. What he saw was not real. It could not be. "It's a dream," he murmured. "Just a dream..." 

He buried his face in his palms. "Another nightmare... It'll be over too."

A strange ray of light ignited his mind. Perhaps in the morning, he would wake up beside Aanvik. He would kick him off the bed and watch him climb back with traces of dreams still clinging to his serene eyes. Aanvik would shoot him an annoyed glare and drift back to sleep in a minute.

Mayank let out a sigh as he revealed his face once again. He wanted Aanvik; he wanted Aanvik then and there. The world of darkness had been waiting for twenty-eight years, and it could certainly wait a little longer.

Then, rather abruptly, the all-rounder began to weep. He could not fool himself for long; he knew it was not a dream. He was caught in an imbroglio that no one could fix. Not even Aanvik.

More than anything, he wanted to slide into deep sleep and never expose his eyes to the sight of this world again. Besieged by fragility, he could no longer bear the deadly weight of failure. He wanted the pain to end. Once and for all.

As Mayank surrendered to a fresh round of sobs, he sensed a peculiar movement on the top of his head. Despite the hazy view, he could make out Fayzan's slender figure. The boy set his hair free from the affectionate grip and claimed a seat against him. The boy was momentarily taken aback by the all-rounder's eyes, which were no longer cold and lifeless. They were inundated by utter helplessness.

"Missing your family and friends?" asked the boy in a mild voice.

No response came up. Mayank continued to observe him as if he were a curious object, rare and priceless beyond words. His shivering hand reached out slowly and rested on the child's head before descending to his cheek. Fayzan was rather bewildered. The all-rounder was certainly not being himself.

The boy carried on nevertheless. "I miss mine too."

A minute passed in silence. Fayzan rummaged desperately through his mind for a few words. He let out a sigh. "I remind you of your baby brother, don't I?"

Mayank gingerly pulled his hand away from his cheek. His gaze was getting increasingly bizarre.

"Umm, Mayank?"

The all-rounder's lips trembled for a second before going still.

"You know what?" Fayzan finally mustered enough courage to blurt out the suggestion. "We should just go back. You do not belong here. Nor do I."

"G-g-go a-away?"

The kid nodded.

At once, Mayank's face went stern. His hands seized Fayzan's shoulder, making a shiver run down his spine. "You won't go anywhere!" growled the all-rounder as he leaned closer to the kid. "You are mine! You are mine!"

With their faces barely a couple of inches apart, Fayzan stared into the greatest mystery he had ever come across. A moment passed in enchanting silence, following which the boy broke free.

"You are crazy, Mayank."

"Have always been. Will always be."

The boy shook his head and got up on his feet. "The one that's yours is waiting for you. Go back to him, Mayank. You don't understand what you are making him go through." Fayzan refused to wait for a response; he turned around and walked back to the bed. "Get some sleep."

Mayank did not speak, nor did he stir. His drab eyes followed the kid as he settled himself on the neat surface. As a couple of minutes went by, a faint sound of diffusing melancholy began to sneak into his ears. Whether the source was the kid or his entire entity, he did not know.