Five-Thirty AM - XXII

The first sweet hint of those tender feelings nebulously called “love”, were blossoming in Dev’s immaculately groomed chest as he lay alone in bed. Yes, Dev had been going to bed alone for the last few days. He hadn’t dated. He hadn’t opened his little black book filled with convenient numbers to call a conveniently available gorgeous woman to keep him company.

His heart hadn’t been in it. He didn’t realize it, but what he was already doing was being ‘faithful’ to the woman that he dreamt of. A woman with flashing eyes, and a stormy temper.

Maina.

He smiled at the name. Where are you?

He’d been back at the same lounge on Saturday, telling himself he liked it there - alone. He’d seen her friends a couple of times. But never her. He felt a bit of an idiot sitting there alone at the bar drinking his malt, politely refusing the innumerable invitations he got through the evening.

She hadn’t shown up.

For the briefest moment, he’d toyed with the idea of asking her friends about her. Then dropped it. He couldn’t be that big a loser! Asking her friends about her? Hell, no!

The said friends however, quite unknown to him, had seen his glances their way. They’d been told by Maina about him. So they had made a phone call.

Maina had a smirk on her face when she hung up. So. Mr. Arrogant Smirk had been looking for her, hmm? One more conquest at the elegant, uber high-heeled clad feet of Ms. Myna Imani!

Yes. M-Y-N-A.

You see, Mrs. Imani Jr. was pretentious. So she’d named her daughter Myna - although it was pronounced exactly the same! The transmogrified spelling satisfied her shallow-ish heart, since her own name was a very boring old-fashioned one. Kuntala. Which she had conveniently shortened to Connie or Koni or Konnie... you get the idea. She couldn’t change her name, but her daughter was not going to go through life with a name like that or even a spelling like that! So M-A-I-N-A became glamorized as M-Y-N-A!

*****

Love wasn’t in the air for Dev alone. Noel lay in bed thinking about the day gone by.

Dev was right.

He’d known that at some point he’d have to open up the pain from the past. He’d never thought he’d feel so vulnerable articulating it.

The memories of those years, months, days needed to be given closure. He’d forged on ahead in life. He’s fought through the recurring nightmares, and the sleepless nights. Somewhere within himself, he’d found a core of strength that had helped him deal with it. It had helped enormously that he had a family that he could lean back upon. They and Dev were the only people he trusted. They were the ones that had been there, supported him, loving him and caring for him, no matter how deep the spiral had gone. No matter to what depths he’d fallen. They had pulled him out of it.

He’d never spoken about those last days in the army to anyone. His father had ensured that he’d retired with full pension.

Mitul had come into his life like something he’d never expected to find, in the last place he’d expected to find it. Over a phone call. At first the fascination had been with her voice and her accent. It had intrigued him. And that had driven him to Canada, to her.

Women. They were around him all the time. With four years in the industry, he was now completely au fait with its workings. He understood that sex is what sold - anything. Be it a product, a person or a film. Yet, something inside him shied away from this aspect of his profession. A deep niggling sense of unease and wrong. While Dev seemed to take it in his stride, he still believed in the notion of monogamy. So, as much as he was seen around town with different women, he very rarely, if ever, slept with one. He never brought them home. That was his sanctuary. His sacred place. The place that kept him sane in an insane world.

From the moment he saw her, he knew she was going to make a mark in his life. She was like no other woman he had met. As he got to know her more and more, he realized that he was more than ready to have someone like her in his life. He wasn’t going to deny that the attraction for him was purely physical, when he first met her.

But then, he’d wanted to know more about her. He just didn’t want her body. He wanted her, all of her. What made her tick. What made her laugh. What made her so strong. What made her who she was. What made her such a beautiful soul.

For the first time, he had asked a woman into his home. He should have realized, he thought with a sardonic laugh, that she had already ingrained herself into his life. Which is why he’d broken his own rule of not bringing women home. Now that same sanctuary was redolent with the memories of her sitting on his couch, bringing him his coffee.

Is this what was called falling in love?

This wanting to share every moment of your life with someone. This urge to pick up a phone just to hear a voice at the other end. This need to know if someone were missing you as much as you missed them. This hollow feeling inside yourself when they weren’t there. This aching craving to gather that person up in your arms and just hold them close. This breathless feeling when that person walked away from you. This rapid anticipation when you knew you were going to see them, again.

Is this what love is ? Noel didn’t know. But he guessed if he had to put a name on it - he’d call it love for lack of a better word.

Which brought him to today.

He picked up the photo from his bedside table and looked at it for a long moment.

What had changed in El Paso? What had brought on her sudden coolness? Why was she so formal with him? What changed, Mitul?

These questions still tormented him. He’d told Dev that he was okay with her behavior. He was only fooling himself. He wasn’t okay. But if that’s what she wanted that’s what she was going to get.

He’d seen her tears today. He didn’t know why she’d cried. He hadn’t asked. He wasn’t going to.

It was important that she understand.

If this was what she wanted out of this ... this relationship ... whatever it was ... he would give it to her. She had to be free to make her own choices. He wasn’t going to force himself on her. But he wasn’t going to sit around and wait for her either. This time, he really was going to move on.

He tucked the photo inside the bedside drawer and turned off the light, before lying down. Another restless night awaited him.

He would see her tomorrow. He smiled at the thought.

*****

The object of Noel’s thoughts was not having better night herself.

Her thoughts were skittering all over the place. She was trying to marshall them, pull them out of the morass of confusion that they currently seemed to be sinking in.

When she’d first met him, albeit after a lot of work on her side, she’d met him as a person she was a fan of. She’d been nervous, the very first time. But he had made her so comfortable, allowing her to see that he was just another regular guy.

Their whole time in Canada was spent in becoming friends. Friends who had a powerful sexual attraction. She wasn’t going to deny it. Every time she’d met him or been around him, it was as if her entire body would be coiled, waiting like a wound up spring for him to touch her. When their eyes had met in recognition on the boat, she’d known that he’d felt it too. that he wasn’t immune to her, physically at least.

He hadn’t left a single opportunity to touch her. Always made sure she knew he was around her. Every touch had been like a tiny explosion. Every look an intense flame that scorched her. He hadn’t hidden it. She had reveled in it. He’d allowed her to know him. Get to really know him in El Paso and Ruidoso, and Arista.

It was only after, seeing him with those women had warned her that the path she was going down. Falling in love with him, would be disastrous for her. She couldn’t share him. No way could she share him with thousands of other girls all wanting a piece of him. Never mind that there would always be this industry that he was in. She’d heard dreadful things about it. She’d seen how that actress had acted around him. Even if Noel had no interest, there would always be temptation.

She was under no illusion that working with someone, day after day, acting as if you’re in love with them, could lead to giving in to that temptation. It might just be fleeting and it might just be transient, but it would destroy her, to know that he was with someone else, sharing something that she wanted only for herself. And he had now signed on for a romantic series! How would she be able to bear it?

The problem was that it was killing her already. She’d avoided him when she’d seen him with his fans. Because she knew what he was faced with all the time. It would not change.

But now, she was seeing this other side of him. This man who had seen some horrible things. Had done some equally horrible things, justified as it may be. She’d felt her insides tearing just imagining the bullet going through him. How much must it have hurt him? And why was it hurting her so much to think of him in pain?

She whimpered lying in her bed, eyes closed, tears leaking from the corners.

She’d fooled herself into thinking she could protect her heart. It was past the point of protection.

She had thought that by denying she felt anything for him, she would be fine. Instead, Noel had seemed turned off.

The thought of his behavior towards her these days, suddenly sent a wave of coldness washing over her. He’d become civil to her, polite, almost indifferent. Maybe the trip had meant nothing to him. Nothing at all. Maybe the attraction she held for him was no more!

At that thought, she groaned, tossing and turning in her pillow.

Or was he just ... ? Could it be ... that he was cold, because she had pushed him away? She hated his coldness, but she didn’t know what to do. Although she knew what she wanted.

She wanted to share every waking moment of her life with him. She wanted to pick up the phone and call him, just to hear this voice. She missed him, she needed to know he missed her too. There was an emptiness inside her when he wasn’t there. She wanted to hold him in her arms, wanted him to hold her in his, and never let her go. She couldn’t breathe every time she walked away from him. And now, her heart raced again in anticipation.

She would see him tomorrow.

Oh God! She groaned again. I’ve gone and fallen in love with a man who’s an actor. What am I going to do? She hugged the pillow to herself.

It was going to be another long night of confusion and despair and hope and despair for Mitul Imani.

****

Coming back home to Goa was bitter-sweet for Noel. It had been over two months in Delhi. His wound had healed nicely. The doctors had let him go. Now would begin the regimen of physical rehab, to get back mobility in his arm, and develop strength in it.

Noel looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He touched the angry scar visible on his chest. It had come so close. So close to killing him. He knew he was lucky to be alive at all. He tried to lift the arm and winced in pain. Reaching into the medicine cabinet, he took out a pain-killer and walked back to his room to swallow it with some water. He waited for the effect to take place. His body welcomed the feeling of lassitude that came as the medicine began working through his system.

He lay back in bed and let the welcome unconsciousness wash over him.

He started his rehab the next day at the hospital recommended by the doctor in Delhi.

The physiotherapist put him through his paces, the muscles and tissues protesting at the stress. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead with every effort he made to move his arm. He was panting with exhaustion by the time the half-hour came to an end.

‘We’ll start slow,’ the therapist said. ‘As we build up the muscles and as they start to recognize the patterns of movements, it’ll be easier every day. But you will have to work really hard if you want full mobility in that arm.’

‘I’m wiling to do that,’ Noel assured him, putting on his shirt.

‘Good,’ the therapist. ‘Your doctor is waiting for you. You have an appointment, right?’ Noel nodded. ‘Then I won’t keep you. It’s your first day, so I’ve been light with you,’ he winked at Noel.

Noel went to see his new doctor. His arm was throbbing now, and the doctor advised him to get a new prescription for the pain killers, if the current ones didn’t help.

Noel was on the road to recovery.

He worked with the therapist everyday, and by the end of the month, the marked change in his mobility was noticeable, much to everyone’s delight.

What worried his parents though, were the long hours that Noel preferred to spend on his own. He went for walks on the beach, or sat in his room. What he did there, they didn't know. He seemed to shut them out mentally.

He’d found out that Moti Lal had survived the blast, with minor injuries. Bohra had not. That had sent him into a deeper spiral of grief, which he could not share with his parents.

As his arm improved, Noel looked around and took stock of himself. He was 26 years old. No job. No friends. No career. No future.

Yes, he was an ex-army officer. What was the best job he could get? He didn’t see any future in going to work for a security firm. He’d joined the army because he didn’t have any viable talents. He’d realized that he liked being in the army. It had always been his fall-back option. And now, that option was gone. What could he do?

He could go back and complete his management training. Dev, his best friend had been working for a major multi-national for a while, and doing well for himself. But he?

He couldn’t see himself in Human Resources or Marketing or Sales. He couldn’t see himself standing in front of a roomful of suits giving presentations, trying to sell dreams! He had no head for math. He could organize, and he could manage and he could strategize. But that was on the battle field. Not in the world of business. He wasn't even that tech-savvy as he'd been in the infantry.

Noel was a twenty-six year old rudderless young man with nothing to look forward to for the rest of his life.

The only thing of any regularity in his life, now, was his therapy. He never missed that. But the pain refused to go away, and the only thing that brought any relief from the constant worry was the succor the pain killers afforded.

Or his forays to the numerous bars in town. Drink offered the same kind of oblivion as did the pills. Noel didn’t pick up girls in bars. The only thing he picked up were glasses.

As his therapy progressed, so did his dependency on those pills. He was taking more than necessary now. Not a single day went by when he did not take at least one. And that is why Noel Figueiredo spent so much time alone in his room.

*****

‘I had become addicted to pain-killers,’ his voice was harsh. ‘I just didn’t realize it.’

Mitul had her head lowered. She was writing something in her notepad.

Noel watched as she stopped writing. Her head stayed lowered. He couldn’t read her eyes. A humorless smile lifted his lips, which were thinned in pain.

Now, she knows, he thought. He waited to see if she would react, but she didn’t. Just stayed quiet and still as if waiting for him to continue.

He sighed.

*****

His brothers had come down for the week. It should have been a happy day, with everyone enjoying the impromptu vacation. In truth, Noel’s father had summoned his older sons.

Noel was out walking on the beach. Alone.

The rest of them sat on the verandah - his father, his mother, Naveen, Naval, and Shelley. Rohan and Rollie played in the garden while the adults watched them, although a greater part of their attention was on the lone figure standing still on the beach, looking out to the grey waters of the Arabian Sea.

‘He’s become so withdrawn,’ his mother said, her eyes full of pain. ‘He barely talks anymore. He won’t talk about what happened, let alone why it happened.’

‘Has he said anything about what he wants to do?’ asked Naveen.

‘We’ve asked him,’ his father’s voice was heavy. ‘He says he’s thinking about it. He’s been thinking about it for the past few weeks.’

‘Did he mention any plans or anything?’

Older Mr. Figueiredo shook his head. ‘No. No plans. No nothing. It’s like, he’s there, but he’s not there. His mind is always elsewhere. He spends hours, just hours in his room with his door shut.’

‘It’s like he’s shut us out of his life,’ his wife sniffed.

Shelley placed a hand on her mother-in-law’s hand. ‘Do you think taking him back to Delhi would do any good?’ she asked her husband.

‘He could come work with me,’ Naveen said. ‘Learn how to run a business.’

‘Don’t think he’d ever want that,’ Naval replied. ‘I wonder if he's thought about going back to studies. Take a post-graduate course in something?’

‘We could send him to the US or UK. They have excellent courses and better choices for someone with his background,’ suggested Naveen.

Noel started walking back towards the house. He plastered a smile on his face. Both his brothers noticed the difference in him. He’d lost the whipcord look that he’d had. Instead he was almost shabby, slovenly. His clothes were rumpled. His hair was longer, the unruly waves flying in the ocean breeze. His jaws were unevenly shaved accenting the hollows in his cheeks. He walked slouched and not straight like he always had, favoring his left side a just a little bit.

But it was his eyes that troubled them. They were devoid of any sparkle, and joy. They were older, wiser, maturer and infinitely sadder.

He hugged his nephews and for a few minutes, the family watched their baby come back to life. He played with them for a bit and then said he was tired, before retiring to his room.

They watched him walk in and head straight to his room shutting the door behind him. They looked at one another. They were still sitting there, watching the sun slide to the West, when the phone rang.

Naval got up to answer it, and came back with the handset, handing it to his father. ‘It’s Noel’s doctor,’ he said in answer to the unspoken question.

‘Hello. Mr. Figueiredo?’ they could all hear the doctor as Naval had switched on the speaker.

‘Yes, Dr. Bose.’

‘Mr. Figueiredo, is Noel in a lot of pain?’ the doctor asked.

‘No, he isn’t. At least, hasn’t complained of any lately,’ his father was puzzled.

‘Mr. Figueiredo, he has been complaining of pain and sleeplessness. However, I consulted with his therapist today on his progress, and he’s doing excellently. So I am not sure why he needs so much pain killers. Can you please come in with him tomorrow? I’d like to talk to you both,’ the doctor said.

The two brothers got up simultaneously. They looked at each other and rushed to Noel’s room. He’d been there for three hours by now.

‘Noel,’ Naveen was yelling, banging on the door. ‘Noel! Open the door!!’

‘Come on, Noel, open the door!’ yelled Naval, banging as well.

‘What happened?’ Noel’s father and mother joined them.

Shelley rushed to the children and grabbed them, dragging them back to Naveen’s room and threatening them with dire consequences if they dared step out of it. She closed the door behind her and dashed to Noel’s room, just in time to see her husband and brother-in-law break through the door and enter the room.

Noel was lying flat on his back, sleeping, oblivious. Shelley ran into the bathroom, and began looking through the drawers and cabinets. She found the bottles, most of them empty.

Naveen was trying to wake up Noel, while his parents stood crying. Noel didn’t respond, lying there limply. Naveen checked his pulse.

Shelley read his face. ‘Call the ambulance,’ she ordered Naval.

Ten minutes later, the ambulance arrived.

*****

‘I’d almost overdosed on pain killers and sleeping pills,’ Noel had his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the conference table.

Mitul closed her eyes. No! Her mind screamed. No! Noel, how could you? The pain was choking her, now. How could you do that?

He raised raw, red-rimmed eyes to her. Her eyes were closed, tears flowing down her cheeks, her hands clutching the pad in front of her, knuckles white.

He cleared his throat and she opened her eyes, looking away from him.

Without missing a beat, he continued. ‘I was in hospital for again, for three days,’ he said. ‘When I came out, they sent me off to a rehab center.’

He was silent. ‘It was terrifying at first. I felt like I couldn’t take it. The withdrawals, the dizziness, the nausea. I was in bad shape.’ He leant back against the chair, looking up at the ceiling. ‘But every time I slid back, my family was there for me. Dev was there. They gave me so much love. I had to fight back, if not for myself then for them. They deserved to have their Noel back.’

He was quiet for a long moment. Those weeks in rehab had begun as some of his worst. The last few weeks had given him direction and purpose.

‘I took up yoga, started working out again. Two months later I was clean,’ he said. 'I've been clean since.'

She smiled a small smile at that. So that’s why he’d reacted as he had, the one time he’d seen her taking pills!

He looked at her, saw the tear-stained cheeks and the smile of relief on her face. He smiled back at her.

‘I still had to attend counseling sessions to deal with what had happened to me. I still do, once in a while, when I need to,’ he said, wondering how she would react to this. To his satisfaction, she only smiled at him.

‘I don’t smoke. I don’t do pills. I don’t drink alcohol if I can help it,’ he said quietly, hands flat on the table. ‘Not that I will stop anyone who wants to do the same. But I won’t,’ he said firmly.

‘I know,’ she smiled through eyes that glittered with tears. She began gathering up her things, indicating that the interview was over.

He watched her carefully. But she was once again, the polite Mitul. He got up and waited for her to step out of the room, before closing the door behind them, and bidding her a polite adieu at the elevators.

*****