The telephone rang in blips alongside the incessant patter
of rain hitting the mill’s roof. When it stopped, there was still silence for about
a second. It certainly wasn’t long before the general hum of the workplace
began filtering in through his ears. Unstartled, he lifted his head to the
smell of coffee wafting in from the south-west corridor: always an oxymoronic response
to his caffeine intolerant self. A quick shudder ran down his spine as he awoke
to the perpetually frigid state of his workplace. The body’s tendency to warm
itself into a comfortable cocoon is what makes midday naps at work all the more
cosy.
Turning to his wrist, Oshin smiled to himself; one o’ clock, tick tock,
tick tock, tick tock. He would step out to buy himself some lunch. The aroma of
spices mixing halfway through the air with freshly steamed rice is what made
lunch feel like home in this city. A quickly pulled out chair with a nod signaling
the regular order of natu kodi and puliogare rice was a regular afternoon.
Gathering his post snooze thoughts, he realized he’d brushed aside the emotions
tumbling in his stomach all week. Shai’s unexplained departure and the quiet of
an empty house had left him with strangely vacant thoughts. No vacancy signs, smoky
permit rooms, red lights, black, red, white. The steaming food arrived at his
table as the wrestle amongst mental images continued. He gorged down both
portions, leaving a hefty tip and stepped out for a quick drag off his last
cigarette. (If two couldn’t be one and one didn’t want to be one, should one
jump off a moving train?)
Shai did leave him a note, scribbled yet thought out.
It wasn’t about the circumstances, it was just a matter of how he felt for him;
and it wasn’t the same anymore. While speaking their minds to each other had
only kept them together all this while, it felt like they were teenagers again
with uncontrollable emotional surges. Shai’s new fetish wasn’t just that; she’d
held his hand and spoken to him through the night with all electricity and no
physical intimacy. Evidently, Shai wasn’t good with holding back details. Oshin
tried remembering what it’d been like to try liking women, flirting with them. It
wasn’t a familiar feeling, and didn’t quite feel electric. He then remembered Shai
describing what it was like to have liked women. Their gentle gait, sultry
voices, feline mannerisms and taut figures; and why it no longer felt relevant.
He should’ve read the signs and tipped himself off right then. (Will you buy me
a bottle of Prosecco, please?) Shai had now left for need of space and to
figure it out for himself. He was the one who was certain that they should move
in together when they’d (he’d?) made the decision. So it obviously made sense
when he was also the first to leave.
Oshin’s cigarette lasted him till this
point of thought and now he was left disconcerted. He stepped away from the
awning and walked out into the street. Hesitating for a split second, he turned
the other way to trace his steps back home. He hadn’t turned off the geyser and
no one at work would notice his absence halfway through the day. A brisk walk
towards Jolly Heights was followed by hurried steps to the third floor. Hunting
for his keys in the rear pocket, he brought his hand out to the lock and turned
it to find the door already open. Pushing it slightly, he found an open
suitcase splayed out in the living area with white shirts flowing out; only one
person ever had a monochrome wardrobe. Shai had heard the door turn and walked
out to find Oshin standing frozen with tears running down his round cheeks.
