Of Cats and Dingdi Par

                                                                                 

Courtesy of Pascalcampionart

Of Cats          

  “Haunting, that was haunting,” he thought to himself as he lay on his bed. He was, of course, thinking about the afternoon that had just transpired. Every little quirk echoed in his mind over and over again; the conversations, the jokes, the laughter, the subtle touches and the excuses to make it all last a little bit longer. It was November, and Fall was already on the wane. The mellow noon was beautiful, and dusk came, the horizon lit up - then it waned. They were still together, coming up with excuses, and as darkness reigned and the stars engulfed the sky, she grabbed his arm for the first time, though still pretending they were just friends - an oasis of contentment that was as fleeting as the cold November wind that was brushing against her hair.

The night was young and the stars had lit up the sky. Thlasik Kawng (the Milky Way), in all its glory, was on full display, thus rendering an even more wintery vibe. It was chilly and that was a good excuse - sitting close to each other on the grass with no space between them. He gently played with her hair, she didn’t seem to mind. He showed her the different stars and constellations; Zangkhua (Ursa Major), Sikawikap (Orion’s Belt), Siruk (Pleiades), Sikeisen (Mars), Chawngmawii and Hrangchhuana (Venus and Jupiter) Hmar Arsi (Polaris). She had never really known them, much less their native monikers and was genuinely awestruck.

       Finally, they came around to talking about their lives. Then she pried about his love life, and she was quite inquisitive as well. He was very reluctant to talk about such topics, always had been. He always felt uncomfortable when people asked about his private life - relationships or otherwise. He tried to sidestep her questions but she was hell-bent on finding out. He finally mumbled something about a little flower – an untamed one - albeit with a little bit of misinformation. She was intrigued and wanted to know everything. He was careful not to spill too much. They were both at their wits’ end;

        “Don’t you dare play coy with me now”

      “I’m not, I just don’t like talking about these kinda things, ye know…” he replied.

 “Do you have her pictures? Show me her pictures” she insisted ignoring his reply.

      “Look, it’s nothing serious, it’s really more of a fling than an actual relationship!” he replied trying his best to play it down.

“What!?” she replied staring at him.

        “What if she’s serious?” she replied in quite a serious tone.

        “Why do you care?”

       “I don’t but…” she paused, and then continued, “Why are guys so insensitive and heartless” she complained.

        He burst out laughing. She stuck out her tongue and punched him on the arm.

        “Guys are all the same”

       “Yes, we are, and if any guy tells you otherwise, you should run” he replied smiling.

     “Every guy that I’ve ever met has told me otherwise” she replied looking at him.

         “And now you’re here, for the first time…”

He looked at her and then leaned in slowly, she didn’t move. He gently stroked her hair, then her face, her lips, she still didn’t move. He leaned in and lightly kissed her on the lips, she didn’t respond, everything stopped, and then she finally kissed him back. The little cat could no longer keep her distance, she's been tamed!

He had already known – figured out all along - why she was there with him in that place and at that hour; it was completely unlike her to be out that late over such small conversations. She was there with him, on that very spot, at that very moment, to find out where everything stood between them - and now she had. And even though she had put on the friendship façade, everything that had transpired earlier in the afternoon, and in the previous few months had already betrayed her; he could read her like an open book. Her very comportments were his confidants that had given her away, they had informed him of her true feelings. “The Cat's finally tamed…” he thought to himself and smiled.   

Despite her big-shot boyfriend, she had fallen for him, for all his vagaries, his simple - cosy life, his mediocre yet ever-apt jokes, his naïve honesty and his book addiction, the subtle misdemeanour that from time to time escaped his seemingly innocent facade. She had fallen for him; it happened ever so slowly that she hadn’t even realized it, and that only made it even more poignant. And she always knew, despite his girlfriend, that he wanted her – he had never really tried to hide it despite their friendship.

He understood her well, way better than she had ever realized. He understood that she was fighting against these feelings that she was hitherto now only vaguely aware of, feelings that she was trying to deny, albeit unsuccessfully. And he did not judge her for that. He understood her ambivalence; he was just a boy with a lot of potential. And he could not expect her to risk it all on that. Even if she were to risk it all he still was unable to see how it might all work out in the end; she was from an orthodox Christian family and him - an atheist! She was not going to risk everything for that, no, she was much too tame for that, and he was, despite his seemingly mild demeanour, a tat bit too daring. Theirs was a tragedy that might never even happen!

       “There can be no peace for us, only misery or the greatest happiness…how complicated,” he thought to himself, echoing Count Vronsky, and he knew, despite everything that had transpired, that she was too much of a chaste to be his Anna Karenina.

       Suddenly, his phone blurted out and he was shaken out of his reverie. It was a Dingdi Par. He had completely forgotten about her. That always happened; he forgot the world when she was with him or thought about her. She was his refuge from the world, including from the very Dingdi Par that he actually occasionally liked. And he did not feel any guilt over that, he never had.

 “Hello,” he answered in his usual distant tone.

******************************

Of Dingdi Par

“I’d really like to have children, just so I could look after them in ways that I haven’t been so” she uttered much to his surprise. It was the tail end of November and the afternoon sun was a delight. They had just come up to the Chaltlang Dawrkawn intersection from the Bawngkawn side and he had been making small talks with her, mostly to make up for his rudeness towards her the other day. The conversation was mostly about her life and her family. He knew very well that she was spoiled; she was a little proud, had a big yet rather fragile ego, was entitled, and criticism was her kryptonite! So such an honest confession was completely unlike her and it almost caught him off guard.

“They haven’t been around much?” he replied.

“They're always away on business trips” she sighed.

He knew exactly what she meant and was filled with rue. This was her saying “I regret that I’m not on par with your expectation, and I really wish it were otherwise”. He wanted to hold her close but such a public display of affection would be deemed inappropriate. He normally wouldn’t have cared about what people would have thought, but there were others with them, and if ever they were going to become “they,” it must be so in secret, for some things can only be when they’re hidden away from the world. He knew perfectly well that she was his for the taking, but he was unsure as to whether or not he wanted to take her. Too much plastic in her character for his taste; the melodrama was one he could do without. And yet she was a naiveté ready to offer everything to him. Yet, he just couldn’t envisage a scenario in which she did not end up getting hurt. And there were others, some of his friends (the Anatole Kuragin of the world!), vying with him for her – and she was naïve!

        They walked on, slowly making their way down to Chanmari, their companions followed behind them. They were completely lost in their own bubble, oblivious of the world around them. They talked; he joked - she laughed, and occasionally she would ask him about his life, but every time he would sidestep her questions.

      “You’re always asking me about my life” she complained, “tell me about yourself, I want to know about you as well” she continued in a demanding tone.

    “Has anyone ever asked you about these things before?” he replied ignoring her demand.

       “No” she answered

      “Only someone genuinely interested in you will ask you these kinds of things”.

They continued their conversation, for she was more than happy to talk about herself. He did not judge her for that, “all girls are like that” he thought to himself.

Once they reached Chanmari he wanted to stop by Book Café, and so they did. He had always read, his father made sure of that. She, however, wasn’t much of a reader. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, he browsed around. “I need some Neruda”, he thought to himself but he couldn’t find one. They were browsing and still chatting while their companions had their drinks. To his surprise she was much intrigued by all the books – “Now I’m tempted to read” she said to him holding up Bulgakov's The Master and  Margarita. He knew her well, and this was just her getting caught up in the moment, he knew perfectly well that she wasn’t really going to start reading all of a sudden. But the thought of her reading the classics, or any book for that matter, made him smile.

Their companions finally left them alone after their drinks. He ended up buying Gabriel Marquez’s Love in the Time of Cholera.

“May I take a look?” she asked, holding out her hand.

He gave her the book; she looked at the cover and then flipped through the pages several times. By now they had taken a table and were waiting for their drinks. She had ordered some juice and he was waiting for his cold coffee. It was winter but they had strolled a long way, and in a moderate climate like Aizawl some refreshing cold drinks were apt. She mumbled something about coffee being bad for one’s health. He explained how caffeine affects the body. She chimed in, then moved on to other topics, and he listened.

He couldn’t help but run the contrasting parallels between her and the Cat in his mind as they talked. The only thing they seemed to have in common was that they were both very pretty, even that in a completely different way. Everything about the little flower reminded him how much he liked the Cat. He had always liked cats. And yet, something inside him snapped that day, and he had no idea what he was feeling.

Back home, he was trying to shrug off the feeling. He picked up a book, but it was impossible. He was overwhelmed. He sat quietly and thought about what she had said as he envisioned her face in his mind. Her big round eyes –beautiful, her lips – tempting! She was a flower alright, untamed, that had bloomed all on her own in the wilderness, inundated by solitude and loneliness and was now desperately reaching out for connection – hence the naivety. And yes, it was ruth, he was overwhelmed by feelings of pity and solicitude.

“What ghost is this that haunts me so?” he murmured. He sat alone in his room staring at the poetry he had inscribed on the wall that read;

 In lone and silent hours,

When night makes a weird sound of its own stillness,

Like an inspired and desperate alchymist

Staking his very life on some dark hope,

Have I mixed awful talk and asking looks

With my most innocent love, until strange tears

Uniting with those breathless kisses, made

Such magic as compels the charmèd night

To render up thy charge…

Listening to the silence of the room. Suddenly there was a knock on his door. It was his friend reminding him about their 8:00 pm futsal match. “Just what I need, some physical therapy to cleanse it all away,” he thought to himself as he started to gear up.

To be continued