“Stop fussing over me.I have recovered.I don't need a watchman.”I grumble.
“Who says I am a watchman?I am a friend keeping you company.”Sahil pokes his tongue.
No point arguing with any of them.Each of the guys made sure to visit me once daily throughout the three months of my recovery.Kiron and Kenny oversaw the food.Sahil and Sudhanshu took care of my physiotherapy once I persuaded them to relieve the nurse from daily duties.Priya kept in touch through video calls.Jatin came as a surprise, given how we were connected.After his visit, he called each month.The photographs Sahil took every day annoyed me so much.He posted them to the WhatsApp group the gang created.
He even showed me the group contact info when I challenged him to prove the group did not include Aditya, but I strongly suspect some of those pics were sent to him.Aditya never came.Why will he?You shoved him away.A sigh escapes my lips.
“Missing someone?”Sahil pushes the plate of kebabs toward me along with the Coke.
“This is the story of my life.I found one decent guy and weaved dreams of spending my life with him.What a deception.”I shake my head and bite the kebab.No, I don't miss him, and yet every minute of my waking hours is spent brooding over the time I spent with Aditya or cooking up imaginary scenarios on the fire of what-ifs.
What if Aditya had been truthful?What if my life had taken a better turn?Scenes of me marrying Aditya, living in his cottage, farming, and, one day, adopting a child have haunted me in the solitude of my room.Whom am I kidding?Marriage between same-sex partners is a distant reality in India.The rationale does not reduce the longing for companionship, for calling someone my own, for belonging to someone.
What is marriage?A different part of my mind counters.A piece of paper, only a legality.At least we will have each other in our old age.Each argument is battled down.We can write our wills and register the papers.Like what Sudhanshu and Kiron have done.
“Aditya's feelings toward you were not a lie.Each of us carries a bag on our backs, filled with stones, sticks, and thorns of the past.”Sahil wakes me up from the war inside.
“I want the real him.”The one into whose eyes I look and see the clarity of the crystal-clear waters of hill streams.When I hear his words, I know they are as truthful and pure as the unfiltered babble of a young child who is yet to be corrupted by this world.No second-guesses.No conjectures.
“Jimmy, Aditya has so many good bits about him.Maybe this is the part that isn't perfect.Are any of us perfect?What if you worked with him on this without being selfish?”
“My love is not selfish.”But me?Can't I have this one thing from Aditya?Is honesty between us a self-centred expectation?
Sahil studies my face.Priya matches his stare.She breaks the silence.“Jimmy, I have known Aditya a bit longer than you.His idea of a fake author disturbed me, but he sat down and opened up the deepest parts of his life.I will not give the details.They are for Aditya to share.But consider this.”Priya wipes her face with a napkin before holding my eyes.“Aditya is always invested in relationships even after they end.First, with his mother.He kept his marriage because he had promised her.After the divorce, he should have lived freely, yet he shackled himself in Shalini's happiness, committing to her to hide his sexuality till she found her way.”
I start to speak, but Priya raises her palm and stops me.“I agree, building a relationship on a lie is wrong, but Aditya's heart is pure.Sometimes, in his overzealous efforts to help others, he crosses the line of truth.But none of us is a saint.Aditya never means any harm to anyone.”Priya leans and places her hand on my arm.“Jimmy, Aditya is hurting.If you heal and can forgive him, reach out to him.”
She is right.My scars are still fresh.Not the physical ones.Those wounds on my skin had sealed a month ago, leaving streaks of scar tissue.Once I return to my routine, those would be camouflaged by thick layers of muscle.
The ones inside me simmer.The pain, the anger, the grief of betrayal.By a cousin who once ate from the same plate, who turned me to the wolves and, in his hatred, came to kill me.The father, who stood with the bamboo stick to beat the gayness out of me and conspired to take my life.Of the mother who refused to look at me as if I were a disease.
Yes, the deception, the dishonesty, the sell-out.I worry if Aditya is another one of them.Another name to add to the list.The knife laced with the honey of love had sliced sharper, dug deeper, and hurt more, leaving a festering, infected wound in my heart.
Will I ever heal from those wounds?
***
This is me taking astep forward.I take a deep breath and enter the book launch venue.The fancy white pole tent brought from Delhi is set up at the park where I first met Aditya.Sir Wilfred's eyes greet me.The bust has been cleaned and polished, restoring the glorious shine.Sir Wilfred, in black marble, glimmers in the fancy focus lights hanging from the bloomingBuranshtrees around the venue.Next to the statue is a makeshift stage with a mic and a single chair.A small table is stacked with copies of Aditya's latest book.
Tea lights hanging from the tent periphery twinkle in the dusk.The cool breeze wafts across the open tent, bringing in the fragrance of pine and deodars.
Around thirty people are already seated.My whole gang is occupying the front table.I don't dare to join them, so I sit at the corner table with three strangers.Brian's team is catering the event.Pastries, cookies, and sandwiches are being served.I pick the glass ofBuranshjuice to keep my hands from fidgeting, trying to find clarity in the bright red colour of the drink.
‘Don’t let this fester for long.Don’t delay and end up like the woman in the local folk tale.’ Yesterday, Kiron chided and reminded me of the lore associated with theBuranshtree.The story is not a romance but speaks of love, longing, and loss.Despite Kiron and Sahil's reassurances, I am unsure as to how Aditya will react to my presence.
Priya takes the mic and announces the start of the event.My eyes are glued to the man beside her.Aditya is in his light grey suit matched with a navy-blue satin shirt.Side hair greyer than I last saw him.The crowd welcomes him with a round of applause when he takes the mic from Priya.
“Hello everyone.I am humbled by your support and cannot thank you enough for coming all the way from Delhi.We chose to host you here, as Almora is important to me.This town gave me a new life and my best friends.”Aditya smiles at the group nearest to him.The gang hollers.Aditya turns to the bust.“Including this gentleman here.”He runs his fingers over Sir Wilfred and takes a deep breath.
“More than anything, this town is the reason why the world will read this novel.The book is special.‘These Lies Between Us’ is a story of finding love, and yet losing out on a happy ever after.”Aditya's voice breaks, but he recovers.Priya hands him a glass of water.He takes his time to drink before taking the seat.Aditya clears his throat.“Right.So which chapter do you want me to read?”
I cannot fight the storms in my heart any longer.“Thirty-nine.”My shout echoes over the crowd's murmurs.Aditya is startled and searches the gathering.Our eyes meet.He stares for a while, before the wide eyes behind his glasses settle into an understanding.Aditya nods, acknowledging my request, and picks up the book.
The sonorous voice silences the crowd, but I am mesmerised.Priya had sent me an advanced copy.The turn of each page brought the realisation and awakened me to the depth of Aditya's feelings for me.The protagonists' names were different, but the story was ours.Two men brought together by fate.One who hated to lie, another whose entire life had been fake.Their relationship is torn apart by society.Only acceptance can patch their shredded lives.One needs to accept that not all lies are wrong, and the other must understand thatthere are no lies between the one you love the most.Unlike his last novel, though, this one does not have a happy ending.
A tear forms in my eyes.I had resisted, but the efforts failed me after I read those lines on the crisp pages of the novel.I spent each day pining for this beautiful man in front of me.I need love.A man to love.I want Aditya's love.
The longing to create a life with him grew stronger by the day.I had wasted four months of my life staying away.Each morning, as I awoke, my hands swept my empty bed.Despite the company of friends, the chill of loneliness made me shiver.The forest walks were mere compulsions for recovery.Dictated by doctors.Commands of Sahil and Mr Bhatia.I missed the warm fingers entwined and the company of Aditya's musical voice as we walked along the trails with sunlight filtering through tall pine trees.
