SIREN
Chapter 2
“It is because of me that we have a shelter in Mumbai,” she told everyone.
On the other hand, Krishna Das was a God fearing and a peace loving person. The word “Art” thrilled him; be it performing arts or paintings. After slogging daily for ten hours in a textile mill, his only desire at the end of the day was a cup of tea and classical music. He ignored his wife’s frequent rants. He dismissed her uncaring qualities; her callous attitude. But today, he was an extremely nervous man. He had come home early, waiting expectantly for Debasis.
His uneasiness was not without a reason. The verbal duel he had with his wife a couple of days back was still fresh in his mind. He recalled the war of words with Parvati when Debasis telephoned him for help.
“He will stay here till I find him a job.”
“No, he won‘t. This is my house. I don’t care if he is your friend.”
“For God’s sake he‘s an artist …. a painter and not a road side bum. His father and uncle always helped our family back home. I cannot refuse.”
“You help him in getting a job. I have no issues. But he cannot stay here. That’s final,” Parvati said, ending the debate in her favor.
The shrill sound of the door bell shook him out of his thoughts. Krishna got up from the divan and opened the door. Debasis stood in front of him. Krishna was overwhelmed when Debasis embraced him and touched his feet. His own son had quit the tradition long back. He felt immensely pleased to see his friend following the age old custom with great zeal . Krishna smiled, fluttering his eyelids to clear his vision. He blessed him, placing his hand on his head. After all Debasis was younger than him by ten years.
“Welcome Debasis. How was the trip?”
“Good. Mumbai is very crowded. There is so much noise here. And the buildings …. they are so tall.”
“I know. But once you start living here, you get used to it.”
Before Debasis could continue with the conversation, Parvati came out of the kitchen. Debasis touched her feet but Parvati did not bless him.
“How are you Bhabi?”
“Well, things are not good.”
“Bhabhi, never say that. You should always thank God.”
Parvati looked at him with hatred. She had no answer to Debasis’s argument. She made a face and left immediately, warning her husband with the gesture of her eyes.
“Debasis, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
The two men exchanged information. Debasis updated him on Raghurajpur and its people. Krishna Das was happy when he realized that Debasis had been deputed by Guruji, to spread the art of ‘Patachitra’ in India. At the same time he was distressed to learn that Debasis had failed in his mission.
“Krishna, come here.”
Parvati’s shout from the kitchen once again cut their conversation.
“Excuse me Debasis, I will be back in a moment.”
Krishna strolled towards the kitchen.
“I will bring tea and biscuits. Meanwhile, you tell him to find a place elsewhere,” Parvati said, pulling him inside.
“Let him stay here for a week at least.”
“No, not even a single day.”
“Keep your voice low. He might hear you.”
“I don’t care. Just tell him to leave, that’s it.”
In a fit of anger Krishna slapped his wife.
“I know the house belongs to you but that does not mean you have to be so inhuman.“
Krishna stormed out of the kitchen. He stopped when he saw the empty room. His gaze shifted towards the door which was partially open. Debasis was gone. Parvati followed him into the room. “What happened?” she asked.
“Can’t you see, he’s left?”
Krishna sat on the edge of the divan, holding his head in his hands. Dazzling pieces of silver jewelry which lay neatly close to him caught his attention. He moved his fingers on the priceless gift with an expression of disbelief. A small piece of paper flew when he lifted the heavy ornaments. Parvati picked it up hurriedly. Krishna snatched it out of her hands angrily. Tears trickled down his cheeks when he read the note.
Dada, I don’t want to jeopardize your family life. Bhabhi is right. I have no right to stay in her house. Don’t worry, I will manage. I have brought some jewelry for her. Hope she likes it. Sorry, I had to leave without informing you.
Krishna banged the coffee table with his clenched fist. The table broke under the impact. It did not ease his pain. Krishna Das was heartbroken.
TAGS - India, Mumbai, Orissa, Patachitra, Painting, Artist, Art, Canvas, Art Dealer, Love, Nymphomaniac
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