The Unfinished Poetry √

Part Nine

" Why did you lie? "

Devasena stared, calm. 

Avanthika took sometime, and then slowly uttered, " when a book you were searching for goes missing, and when you eventually happen to be there before it went missing, you are ought to feel insecure of being suspected of stealing it. " 

" Ohh come on Avanti! Now you remember that they have CCTVs and the securities have seen you too. But you blatantly lied to Ella! And me too that night! Had you told her the truth that you were there for some thesis purposes, what would be the harm? Now they would totally suspect you! " 

Avanthika cupped her face for sometime. And then as if shaking off everything stood up, "whatever. I know I'm clean. So I shouldn't worry. " 

" great that way too. " , Devasena smiled. 

Avanthika got dressed and before leaving for work, warned, " Deva, for god's sake please don't roam around elsewhere. Stay at home for today if you feel not so well, but don't...please... " , Avanthika didn't complete the statement but cleared her indications. Devasena nodded.

Devasena spend the day idly, trying hard not to think of anything related to the man in question. But everytime her mind went diving into things she didn't want to think about. 

After scribbling lines on canvases yet creating nothing fruitful, after listening to the same songs a million times now, Devasena sat at the window and logged into her Fb.  

And spontaneously typed Amarendra on the search bar. 

Quite a number of profiles popped up, but none matched. A single profile though didn't have a display picture and the bio was minimal. 

Anyways, Devasena suddenly realised that she was actually diving into very vague things, once again. 

She almost threw the phone away, and it began ringing the very moment.

BD sir calling 

Shit. 

" What's wrong Devasena? You have not turned up for two days now! I hate to see the 'Ladybird' half done whenever I visit Ethnicity. You know I hate unfinished things... " 

" I am a bit not so well sir. I informed Joshita. " 

After this the man blabbered for some more time and Devasena waited for the call to disconnect. 

The man was in his sixties almost, and Devasena had an unexplained dislike for the man who otherwise behaved very decently with her. But maybe was way too much concerned about her. He had a name no one knew, but someone had rumoured that the expansion to his shorthand was something extremely funny. His son had sculpted 'The Blissful Soul' and received a scholarship from the president and now was in Paris, and the man almost every hour reminded his students of his son.  

Crap. 

Devasena suddenly felt choked. She set up her mind to stroll below the PG. But an uncertainty gripped her. If she went down to see the man in question standing with his bike, what would she do? 

Ignore. Ignore? How even!

Devasena came out of the room to the corridor and shouted out for Bablu, a little boy who stayed downstairs and brought the necessities of the inmates. He came dancing.