The bus passed through a road still wet from rain that had fallen half an hour before. Keshav looked happy, there was an effortless hint of a smile on his face. He was speaking less and being more thoughtful than usual. Naveen was used to Keshav wandering off in thought, Keshav did practise poetry like a serious hobby after all. When out of office and occasionally while in the office Keshav would set out his mind and heart looking for the next line and expression.
“Are you getting married?” asked Naveen
“What? No.. no, what are you saying…” said Keshav suddenly broken off from his thought and surprised
“You are smiling different than usual, like you are talking to a girl for marriage purpose,” said Naveen
“You are wrong,” said Keshav, glanced out of the bus window for a second and turned back to Naveen, “I told you about Bindiya right?”
“That lady you had connected with over poetry online, yes I remember”
“She has invited me for lunch with her family on Sunday,” said Keshav and before Naveen could say anything, “No it is not about marriage, it’s not about romance, it’s just about sharing the same hobby, that’s it, it’s all about poetry.”
“If you say so..” said Naveen, not completely convinced
Sunday passed and Naveen found a disturbed Keshav as he climbed into the bus and sat next to him.
“It was about marriage, right? You misunderstood it,” said Naveen trying to hide his smile
Keshav said nothing for a few seconds then he looked at Naveen and spoke, “No it was not about marriage, but I doubt it will now even be about poetry.”
“I don’t understand, what happened?” asked Naveen
“It happened in the starting itself and it made the rest of my time there very difficult. When I entered their house, I greeted everyone and I walked over to Bindya’s 98 years old grandma to greet her too and without thinking much of it I sat on the sofa next to her without looking at it. There was a sound of something breaking, I got up at once but before looking at what had broken, I noticed everyone with the look of a nightmare coming true. It was a photograph of some man with long hair and moustache, he was smiling, wearing some traditional clothes. I noticed the decoration on the chair with artificial flowers and all. I thought he must be a departed family member, but this gentlemen’s photo was on the wall as well, larger in size than any other photos there and in this photo, he had his right hand up like giving blessing,” paused Keshav recalling the horrified expression he saw on everyone’s face
“So, some religious personality. Maybe his death anniversary,” said Naveen slowly
“He is alive, I searched online,” said Keshav sounding distressed
“Then why the decoration on the sofa?”
“He came to their house and sat on that sofa, since then it was untouched by any other person and they placed his photo there to keep it in that manner….” said Keshav
“Oh..” said Naveen and went silent, finding it funny but not expressing it at that moment. A joke for another time perhaps.
Both looked out of the bus window in silence.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Untouched
Early Morning Memories 