Young Blood by Chandrima Das

Author:Chandrima Das
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: null
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2021-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

The Colours of a Bruise

Fergusson College, Pune

Sometime in the early 2000s

The left side of my head pulsed like a beating heart. Pain shot through my temple, down to my eye, and exploded in a blaze of red above my eyebrow. The migraine ripened, feeding on every angry word that Vishesh was hurling at me.

The aroma of filter coffee and freshly made sambar enclosed our argument like a gentle blanket. It hid his sharp words from the other customers of Vaishali, my favourite South Indian restaurant in the city. Unable to swallow my breakfast, I sipped on the filter coffee. Then, I tuned out his words and let my gaze drift, seeking comfort in the ordinary things that surrounded us.

From the corner of my pain-free right eye, I scanned the crowd outside on FC Road, then the crowd inside Vaishali. A group of middle-aged uncles occupied the corner seat, but most of the morning crowd was from Fergusson. They looked vaguely familiar—I must have passed these faces a hundred times inside the campus, but no names popped into mind.

‘Manisha? Mani! Are you even listening?’ Vishesh poked me in the arm, pulling me back into our argument. It wasn’t really an argument, I suppose. Arguments needed two equal sides, and I could never bring myself to fight with him the way he did with me.

‘Where did you go off to, huh?’ His brows were knitted together, his mouth set in an angry red line. ‘You can’t pay attention to two sentences, and you want to work a job? You won’t last two days in an office, with real responsibilities.’

I gave him a blank expression that reflected the numbness inside me. I just … sigh. I didn’t wish to provoke him further. But his next sentence told me I had failed. With Vishesh, I always failed.

He grabbed my wrist, a substitute for grabbing my attention. ‘Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? What’s wrong with you?’

‘Too many things.’ The words tumbled out before I could stop myself.

This admission of guilt melted some of his anger. His thumb lovingly caressed the inside of my wrist. But I didn’t know what I was supposed to have understood from this. He seemed calmer now, so I tried to explain myself again.

‘I love you, Vishu. But I can’t marry you right now. I need to finish college. I need to get a job.’

His face fell back into the severe frown that I had seen a million times, and he folded his muscular arms across his chest. His deep voice boomed: ‘I told you I’ll take care of everything. Haven’t I been doing that already? You’re so ungrateful. You don’t realize it now, but you won’t survive without me.’

I had never heard gunfire in real life, but I imagined that it would sound the last line he spoke—hard, staccato shots that pierce your eardrums. A few heads around us turned. I recognized Lata, Priyanka, and Priyanka’s boyfriend at a table on the outside seating area’s far end.

Vishesh noticed the attention on us and changed his stance.

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