THE THREE WAY

An afternoon shower always felt good. Hishey sat idly as his elderly aunt plucked tea leaves along with Pema, at about a hundred yards from where he sat. The farm was wet, the soil moist. The clouds had dispersed soon after the shower and an ageing red sun peeped from between them every now and then. Each time the sunrays fell on the water droplets on the tender leaflets, they shined like pearls. He sat in a contemplative mood watching Pema pluck tea leaves. He stood up lazily, and called for his herd of sheep that had been grazing on the opposite side of the tea farm. The sheep which he had inherited from his father. Besides his shepherding business, he also worked part time as a guide to the tourists in Darjeeling.

As he sat watching her, the tea estate manager came and called the day off. It came as a relief to the women but disappointment for Hishey. Now he’ll have to wait till next morning to see Pema again. She went past him, as fresh as dew, and with the usual pleading expression in her eyes. The expression had been introduced to her eyes when her father had refused to give consent to her marriage with Hishey, and had persisted since. To Hishey it seemed rather strange, why she had been giving that look to him instead of her father.

He remembered going to her father to ask for her hand in marriage. He had simply refused, saying that he would have overlooked the difference in caste had he been earning more. The shepherding business did ensure a steady income but it was too low to sustain a family. He had been thinking about it a lot lately. He was considering going to Calcutta to earn quick money, return and start a decent business in Darjeeling.

In the evening while his aunt cooked supper, he sat idly with his uncle. His house was on the hillside. There was something about the house which reminded him about some vague memories. He stared at the wooden vase kept on the window sill. It was a vintage vase. The carvings on it were visible clearly, even from the distance. Whenever he looked at it, his sense of things was heightened. The wood had a sharpness about it. The carvings were so accurate it almost looked like moulded metal. The shine gave it a vintage charm. In the modest surroundings the vase stood out. He could see the reflection of the rotating ceiling fan in the recently varnished surface of the vase. Realizing that time was not on his side he decided to finally ask his uncle what he had been thinking for the past week.

“Uncle, can you give me twenty thousand rupees, for my sheep? You can keep them and when I return I will take them back for twenty five thousand.”

“But why do you want so much money?”

“Uncle, I want to go to Calcutta.”

“What for?”

“To make money. Quick and big.”

“Well, son, you don’t have to sell me the sheep. I will give you the money if you want it, but I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“Uncle please, let me do it, for myself.”

XXX

For the first few days he enjoyed travelling in the trams of Calcutta. But soon he got fed up. Wandering here and there he landed in Behala, a suburb of Calcutta. He got himself a job in a fast food joint, serving mutton rolls. As the owner was an old friend of his uncle’s, he just had to mention his name to get the job. His time was passing smoothly, making mutton rolls from 11 in the morning to midnight. But he had not made any further progress. He had no savings after two months. He felt insecure. He started searching for ways to make more money. While he was still pondering over the matter, the owner of the fast-food joint asked him whether he could work in the stationery shop of his brother as he was low on health and needed a helping hand. He said “Okay” absentmindedly.

“Well then, you will be working for him in his shop, and good for you because he will pay you an extra 500 bucks monthly for operating the photocopy machine.”
“Okay, thanks”

The stationery shop was in the same locality, so unsurprisingly he spotted almost the same people around most of the time. A group of boys approached the shop as he sat idly rolling a paperweight.

“Yes?”
“We want these notes photocopied. Four copies each.”
“Okay, but this is a lot of pages. It will take at least two hours to make four copies.”
“Okay, we’ll come tomorrow, but don’t lose the note-book.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care.”

The next evening he spotted another group of boys. These boys also frequented the
food joint.

“Here, take these and make four copies of these notes.”

He saw the cover of the notebook. It appeared to him to be the same that he had copied yesterday. It was the same notebook. Something started to churn in his mind.

“By the way if you don’t mind, what is this notebook all about? Yesterday some boys came by to have these notes copied and now you guys. What is so special about these notes?”

“Can you tell how old these notes are? The boy began to toy with him.

“Seems to me like 5-6 years old.”

“Eight years.” The boy went serious. “See every month at least a hundred boys come to Calcutta to get their license of a Nautical Officer. It’s too late for this month but some of my friends will be coming next month for their examinations. If you could get it printed and make a book out of it, it will fetch you and save them money. You see, a photocopy of this costs us around Rs. 250. A printed book will cost maybe 100 bucks. So that way you can make money, while saving us one night’s beer.” He chuckled.

“But can’t you study from your books?”

“These are notes of one of the best students of the college of all times. These are very precise and reduce the study time very steeply. If I study from books, it’ll take me six months. My examination is due ten days from now.”

“And you’ll pass with ten days’ worth of study?”

“That’s the magic of these notes.”

“What’s your name?”

“Shyam.”

X X X

Shyam looked into the unfinished draft of the book on the computer screen and looked up at Hishey.

“Dude, this is impressive, you typed in the whole text in just five days. But you know, to sell this you also must have all the diagrams in place.”

“Yeah, it will take another week for the diagrams, I guess.”

“I don’t think so. It’s going to take at least fifteen days. I guess I could help you out here. What do you say?”

“I could use your help, but why do you want to help me?”

“For ten percent of your profits. You have very less time and I could use a little cash in advance.” Shyam grinned.

“Deal.”

They worked hard on the diagrams and finished them in five days. Hishey scanned the diagrams in the stationery shop and prepared the finished draft in the next two days. Next, they needed to get it printed.

“Now what?” Asked Shyam.

“We can search for a press and get the book printed. You know anyone?”

“No, but we’ll find one.”

“We have about five days to get the book printed before it’s too late.”

The next day he found a guy who would print the book at fifty bucks a piece. He needed two days for 500 copies.  This was all Hishey needed. He paid him the twenty thousand he had borrowed from his uncle and he agreed to credit the balance till they sold the books.

The next week he sold about a hundred books. He could pay back the printers but he had made no significant profit. The night came and he started to think about Pema. Her face, her eyes, her lips, everything became very vivid in front of his eyes. He felt a lump in his throat and his eyes welled up. But not in a pitiful way; his eyes were sparkling; sparkling with hope and energy. He was determined to make it. He had to marry her. He had to convince her father. He had to make lots of money.

In the morning he woke up and walked to Shyam’s place for a smoke.

“You said that you needed ten days for your examination, so why did you come to Calcutta a month ago?”

“It’s not a rule. Anyways, it’s a good excuse to escape home and those nagging relatives who keep asking ridiculous questions about my career.”

“That’s no reason to leave your home.”

“Yes it is. Don’t judge me; most of the guys do the same thing.”

“Then what do you do all these days in Calcutta?”

“Well, we wander on the Park Street till late at night and most of the times on our way back, we hit the bar on the ground floor of Ajanta Cinema in Behala. Then we sleep all day and again repeat the process in the evening.”

The next night he went down to the Ajanta bar. It was a gloomy place. Sticky table surfaces, cheap dim lighting. Cheap but in their own way tasty, complimentary snacks. The place reeked of stale onions and alcohol. As the night grew so did the temperature of the beer. Apparently they had limited cooling arrangements but the orders kept on pouring nonetheless.

He struck a deal with the owner to put up some posters in the bar advertising the book. He put special emphasis to put the posters under the lights. So much for selling a book.

As he turned to go he spotted Shyam on a table with his three other friends. He went up to the table as Shyam signaled him to join.

“What kind of a place is this?”

“Why what’s wrong with this place?”

“I don’t know, seems kind of sketchy.”

“No it isn’t sketchy; it’s just the sketches haunting your head.” And they burst out in laughter as if it was a hilarious joke. He understood the joke and found it lame. But given that they were each two beers down, he let the snide comment he had in mind pass.

Shyam signaled the waiter for an extra chair which he brought there promptly. He could see why the bar was full; it was because of the excellent service. There was never a delay in the orders, and the bowl of complimentary snack was always full at each table. Plus the location of the bar in the city was unmatched. No one wants to have to worry about finding their way home after getting wasted at a bar.

“So Mr. Hishey, what brings you here?” Shyam dramatically stood up and pointed him towards his chair.

“The same reason you are here.”

“You have serious misgivings as to why I am here.”

“You are here for the beer. What else?”

“You are wrong my friend. I doubt any of the customers of this bar come here for the beer. Beer is the same everywhere.”

“No, it’s not the same. Other places serve cold beer. Anyways, why do you come here?”

“For this.” He pointed towards a tiny bowl of juliennes of ginger impeccably cut and soaked in a mixture of vinegar and lemon juice.

“You come here for this? This is complimentary. You decide over a bar based on its complimentary servings?”

“Beer tastes best with these. I come to have a good time and the ginger gives me exactly that.”

Hishey’s beer arrived and he indulged himself. After having two he began to have a good time.

“So Shyam, tell me about yourself.”

“What?” he burst out laughing. “What are you, my date?”

“No, your friend; I hope.”

“So what do you want to know about me? In about 3-4 months I’ll be making big bucks, that is, as soon as I get my license, I see nothing else you could be interested in.”

“Shyam, that’s what your date will be interested in, and I’m not your date, remember? I’m your friend. Besides don’t flatter yourself. That’s not big bucks; just a little extra.”

“Okay, let’s see. After I gather much money I’ll quit sailing, I’ll maybe open a bar or a pub or something, maybe, play with my band there myself, maybe write and publish some stuff of my own, you know, do what I dream of doing. That’s it.”

“You’re in a band?”

“Not yet formed, but I’ve been working on some lyrics, and I have some friends in Mumbai who are into rock, and they liked the lyrics, and maybe they’ll let me do the vocals as well.”

“You’re clearly drunk.”

“This is what is wrong with the world. If I wasn’t drunk perhaps I wouldn’t have told you all this. But then I wouldn’t be telling you the truth. I believe it’s not my fault that to tell you the truth, I have to do that on the pretext of being drunk. It’s yours, because you need to have a reason to believe your ears when I say things like that. Now, you have a reason to believe your senses because I’m drunk. But otherwise, you might doubt your own ears, because normally, people don’t say things like that. So, to keep your insecurities at bay I have to lie when I am sober. This is what is wrong with the world.”

“What?” Hishey was aghast at this explosion, which he didn’t understand a word of.

“Nothing, you tell me, what you’re up to?”

“Well, it’s not as fancy as your plans.”

“It’s not fancy. It’s real. And don’t try to go off topic. I’m drunk and hence very aware of the happenings.”

“Okay, it’s just that I want to make good money, set up a decent business and marry my love.”

“That’s all? It seems like money is just a means to an end for you. I believe that if you want to make money, it cannot just be a means to an end. It has to be the end. Otherwise you just end up a mediocre. For those who don’t value money that much, its noble, no doubt, but you cannot have your way with money. I’ll tell you an interesting thing; you cannot have just the right amount of money to balance everything out in your life. It never happens that way. Either you’ll end up a middle class man with a receding hairline who has all the time in the world for his family, OR, you’ll end up a man with a receding hairline with a butt load of money but little time for your family. Yeah, money’s a bitch. It will never let you have your way with it. It always is the other way round.”

“Now that’s just a butt load of butt load.”

“Maybe, whatever, but I just think, that you are one who can have his way with money.”

Hishey didn’t reply to that. He kind of blushed.

Shyam continued, “Are you an exotic species?” The table roared with laughter and they acknowledged the presence of the three other friends who had gone obsolete for the past five minutes.

X X X

I will smile

There's a score of years

of history behind me

There's a pool of tears

of mystery the blind see.

When I go I will smile.

Bearing the sarcasm

of those who mind me.

Awaiting the orgasm

of those who bind me.

When I'm released I will smile.

Seething in pain

over wounds they gave me.

Bathing in rain

over grounds my grave be.

When I'm redeemed I will smile.

Hishey read the lyrics from top to bottom.

“I’m impressed dude. This is exceptional. But the theme is a bit shady, isn’t it?”

“What’s wrong with a bit of shade?”

“Absolutely nothing. It will be a hit.”

“Amongst whom?”

“People who love rock.”

“And the people who love to get stoned.”

X X X

Hishey’s book had begun to flourish in the market. And the demand was increasing by the day. It seemed he had finally accomplished what he set out to. Shyam had taken his examination and had passed. He would get his license in about two weeks, and would return to his home in Mumbai. Meanwhile, Shyam had contacted his senior from college to whom the notes belonged and had arranged a meeting between him and Hishey. They formally completed the copyright procedures to go completely legit. Hishey had big plans. Shyam was right. One cannot manhandle money.

Two weeks passed quickly and Shyam returned to his home. In a month he went on his first assignment as a Nautical Officer. Meanwhile in Calcutta, slowly and steadily Hishey began to expand his business. He started by publishing solutions of the mathematics high school text books. While everyone tried to write math books which would attract the students interested in math, and strive to create original problems and their solutions, Hishey did the absolute opposite. He focused on the bigger pool of students having no interest in math, but having to study it anyway as per the high school rules. The flawed education system had 3 books approved for high school math. He contacted all the 3 authors and published the solutions. Obviously the books had absolutely no original content. Well, it didn’t help the kids much in the examinations as the questions set by the board were original, but it did help them complete their home-work in no time. The solutions were a prompt sell-out. His bank account grew fatter and fatter with time.

X X X

It had been a whole year since Shyam and Hishey last saw each other. They had just gone out of contact. He called up his senior whose notes he had published an year ago. His number was saved in the business contacts. He gave him his address. Hishey had a meeting with an author in Mumbai so he took the opportunity to catch up with Shyam.

Hishey was surprised to see Shyam as he answered the door. He was out of shape. A French beard on a swollen face, a year of long unkempt hair, a pair of knickers resting under his belly, and a large freesize tee with a map of Thailand drawn over it.

“Man, what has happened to you?”

“Hishey, how are you man? Its been a whole year. How have you been doing?”

“I’ve been doing good, great in fact. How about you? How is the pub thing going? And your lyrics?”

“Nothing. Just… Anyways, what you’ll have?”

“Anything, dude, just catch me up. What’s, going on in your life?”

“Well, I’m still sailing, gotta go next month. Things didn’t turn out as I had dreamed then, but then who is to tell that was what I had really wanted.”

“What else you could have wanted.”

“Perhaps something which I never had a taste of back then. You’ll have a beer?”

“Two.”

Shyam went inside to get beer. Hishey heard the sound of a key turning the door knob of the apartment. In his mind he wondered who that could be, Shyam’s roommate or his girlfriend or maybe some random chick he was passing his time with? When the intruder revealed herself, Hishey’s mind lost control over his eyes. He forgot to blink them. He gathered all his strength to pick up his dropped jaw and uttered, “Pema.”

X X X

“We got married six months back. Isn’t she cute? You of all people wouldn’t deny that, of course, but believe me, everyone says so.”

“Yeah. She is.” Hishey gulped the beer down, lit up a cigarette and said, “I am here on business. I better get going.”

“Come on dude, you said two remember? You haven’t finished one yet.”

“You didn’t invite me to your wedding; did you not have my number?”

He stubbed his cigarette, looked at his watch, stood up and started to leave.

“You really don’t have time? I’m cooking. It won’t take more than a half hour. Why don’t you guys finish your drink and by that time dinner will be ready.”

‘Why is she doing this?’ Hishey was bewildered. But he stayed.

“Why don’t you join us? We can have food delivered. You shouldn’t cook. Shyam, order something, I don’t feel good your wife has to cook as we celebrate.”

“Sure.” Shyam picked up his phone to order. Pema seemed composed. At least she acted like it.

“Dude, he cannot deliver today, there is no one to deliver.”

“Order from someplace else.”

“Just wait for fifteen minutes, I’ll go get it.”

“Fifteen minutes? What are you, Superman?”

“Batman!”

“I came here to meet you man, just stay.”

“You’ll really like the food, I’ll come back in no time.”

“He does what he wants to, you cannot make him stay.” Pema said with a wry smile.

“I don’t think so.” Hishey retorted. Shyam was gone by the time.

“Why did you do this to me?” Hishey asked in a calm voice.

“Where were you?”

“Preparing for our marriage, I’m sorry my marriage.”

“So you were busy making money. How much did you think my father would have expected?”

“How would I know?”

“You set out to make money for our marriage and you didn’t know how much?”

“Don’t try to intimidate me with your words of rational argument.”

“When were you going to stop and come back for me? Give me an honest answer and I’ll admit it was my fault.”

“I am not saying its your fault.”

“Well, then what are you saying?”

“I am saying that I have come now.”

“You cannot do this. I cannot do this.”

“I will.”

“No!” Pema cried out. “Please.”

“You love him?”

Pema looked up at him with blurry eyes.

“Give me an honest answer and I’ll go away.”

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s not honest. It cannot be. You know that.”

“Whatever it was between me and you, it is over.”

“Just tell me one thing; you did not elope with me, how come you married him? Does your father approve of your marriage with him?”

“Did you ever ask me to elope with you?”

In this moment he remembered the pleading look which he had encountered in her eyes back then, and he realized what it implied. She had never asked him to earn money and please her father. She had just wanted him to believe her that she’ll go with him whenever, wherever, and however he asked. He just didn’t ask.

“It was my fault.” Hishey reclined in his chair, defeated.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. He’s my friend.  What would you do? I deserve it. I should have had the courage to ask you.”

“You had the courage, that’s why you are so successful. What you didn’t have was belief, in me.”

“Can I start to believe in you now?”

“I cannot do this. I am a grown up now. Do you expect me to elope with you now?” The pleading gaze reappeared. They heard the sound of a key turning the door knob.

“Just don’t say anything.” Hishey hissed. Pema was shocked to find herself disappointed.

Hishey noticed the look in her eyes. In the next moment he gambled. He didn’t seem to have a fair idea of the odds, or of the objects he was gambling over, but nevertheless he did.

“Shyam, I just realized I never told you who the love of my life was. I think it’s pretty late now, but I think you should at least know why I am doing this.”

He held Pema’s hand. The warmth of her hand assured him that he had the winning hand in his hand.

“What is this, some old text book prank? So this is how I find my wife is a good sport?”

“It is the truth.” Hishey said.

“Seriously, what has happened to you? You’re just two beers down and you are already drunk?”

Hishey took out a piece of crumpled but nicely folded piece of paper from his pocket and started reading it.

“This is what is wrong with the world. If I wasn’t drunk perhaps I wouldn’t have told you all this. But then I wouldn’t be telling you the truth. I believe it’s not my fault that to tell you the truth, I have to do that on the pretext of being drunk. It’s yours, because you need to have a reason to believe your ears when I say things like that. Now, you have a reason to believe your senses because I’m drunk. But otherwise, you might doubt your own ears, because normally, people don’t say things like that. So, to keep your insecurities at bay I have to lie when I am sober. This is what is wrong with the world.”

They stormed out.

X X X

Fifteen years is a long time. Trends in music change very fast. Sometimes, they return. Hishey realized the fact even as he found a CD with the cover reading “The Insoluble” on his teenager son’s table. He inserted it into the player.

The slower layer of the composition appealed to him. The beat took him over and he literally jumped as he heard the very first lyrics.

There's a score of years

of history behind me

There's a pool of tears

of mystery the blind see.

When I go I will smile.

Bearing the sarcasm

of those who mind me.

Awaiting the orgasm

of those who bind me.

When I'm released I will smile.

Seething in pain

over wounds they gave me.

Bathing in rain

over grounds my grave be.

When I'm redeemed I will smile.

Pema saw him rocking away into sleep with the broadest smile on his face she had ever seen.

X X X