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Kartik stands outside the jewellers shop. On his right palm , glinting in the sunlight , lie three pieces of gold, each tinier than a pea. "Yaar Aman, Punditjee explicitly told to do visarjan of three fish made of gold. Then why are we planning to bahaao three Atoms?" chuckles Kartik who is thoroughly enjoying the whole family drama. Aman gives a feeble smile. " Well Punditjee didn't mention the size. And this is the smallest size of fish that the jeweller would agree to fashion. Careful! Don't drop them, now! That's all we can afford. We don't have gold readily available to throw into the river. I am sure Rajni would rather suffer divine consequences of murdering three fish than undergoing this expensive process of repentance." Says Aman as he gets on his bike. Kartik climbs onto the backseat. "To be honest, these don't even look like fish. They look more like angry golden sperms," says Kartik observing angry expressions on the fish's tiny mouths. The bike zooms forward. Kartik forms a fist just in time to prevent the fish from escaping.
The conversation pauses. familiar groaning of the bike mingles with the traffic noise and turns distant. An old friend that has drifted away.
Kartik stares at the shape of the back of Aman's head. He would identify it in a crowd even when they haven't seen each other for a long time.
It is familiar.
Now.
He was staring at it yesterday, when Aman was trying fo calm Rajni down.
There is something tranquilly about the shape of the back of his head.
His head.
His beautiful head that encompasses his beautiful brain, which for some reason is neon green, the color of his bike.
It was unfamiliar then.
Not now.
It is the dead of night. The moon complements the winter's chill. Best friends.
Rajni enters Aman's tent. She is almost expecting Kartik not to be there.
He isn't real.
Or he is as real as the recurring nightmare in which, to prevent herself from falling into the abyss, she grabs onto the distal end of the barrel of a giant pistol,her face right in front of the muzzle, and the pistol fires.
( A nightmare real enough to wake her up in the middle of the night, drench her in sweat, give her palpitations and not let her fall asleep.)
Kartik is asleep on the smaller cot. Trapped is his hairy eyebrow, a desperate mosquito vibrates it's wings and flails it's legs about. She whispers Aman's name close to his ears and gets no response. Careful not to wake Kartik up, she gently shakes Aman's cot.
" I know, Harman but what can I do!," mumbles Aman in his sleep and turns to the other side.
" Hey! Psst, Aman, wake up you freakin wierdo," says Rajni through her teeth.
A dazed Aman stares at her in disbelief. His reflections on her goggles, equally dazed, stare right back at him. He yawns and says "let me guess. You are hungry".
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Sipping hot chai, snacking on toasted buns lathered with lots of butter, they sit on a bench near the food stall on platform no. 1. The platform is empty, except for a few commuters who are a bit early for the next train that leaves at dawn. The stillness engulfs them.
They hang in the stillness.
" Your story is such BS. Just say you fancy him. I am not going to tell anyone." Says Rajni. Aman immediately turns red,
"I promise I am not lying. Believe me. I just want to help."
She smiles and stares at him for an awkward amount of time.
"Why hide him from the family then?"
"Shut up"
The stillness is a weird place. It disarms you. It makes you vulnerable. It turns you into an amnesiac. It may be hard for old people with jobs and families to find this place, but young people find it so easily. The stillness makes itself readily available to them. It likes the warmth of young blood, the purity in their innocence.
"I don't know what you mean when you say these things. But today he described the small fish made of gold as angry sperms and I found it funny. Which is weird. Coz in retrospect I find that it isn't funny at all. And not only did I find it hilarious alt the time, I was proud of him for coming up with that analogy,"says Aman not looking at her.
"I feel things ,Rajni. I feel things when he puts his hand on my shoulder for support every time he climbs down the bike. I don't know why." He turns his face to hers. Her eyebrows are arched. A grin spills out of her face.
"Speaking of those golden sperms, did you throw them into the river today?," She says.
"Yeah! What a weird thing to do. Punditjee was not happy to see the size. He said he wasn't sure you would get absolved."
" Poor me," says Rajni with a straight face.
" He cheered up by the end of the whole thing though. After Kartik hired him to perform the symbolic last rites of his friend's mother. But he won't be available tomorrow since he has to pay a visit to the carnival that has been set up in the Ram Mohan ground. He has to enjoy fun rides there! " Says Aman stifling his laugh.
"Hmm. Do you reckon these rituals are helpful or are we just fooling ourselves." Says Rajni in a serious tone.
" I don't know. What's the harm in them?" Asks Aman.
" For starters, they are too regressive. Also, people are getting lynched in this country for something as inane as their diet, and religion has turned into a political tool. Shouldn't we youngsters renounce the old practices, otherwise we as a country are collectively heading straight into a quagmire ?" Says Rajni.
"Think about the money and the effort that has gone into it, Rajjo! You really want to go against your family and walk out of this month long Puja for the sake of your country?" says Aman in a mocking tone.
" No. I want to do exactly that but for myself."
" Then I would say that you are a selfish person."
And the stillness releases them from its gentle hold.
