Project Heart - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

Junak found Dikhou and Puhor together in the former's room. Puhor had a dhuti around his legs – half wrapped around his waist and the other half pooling on the floor. The ends of the dhuti were in Dikhou's hands... Dikhou, who was kneeling in front of Puhor.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Junak cried.
The two men looked at him as if he was doing something outrageous.
"Dikhou's teaching me how to wear this." Puhor wriggled his butt to demonstrate.
Junak stomped up to them and lodged himself between them, nearly kicking Dikhou in the process. "Watch a YouTube video like a normal person!"
Puhor rolled his eyes, lazily collecting the ends of the dhuti in his arms. "Very subtle, bro."
Junak directed his glare at Dikhou who slowly rose to his feet, frowning. "What?"
"Are you two friends?" It was ridiculous. Ridiculous and improper and appalling.
Dikhou opened his mouth but closed it without answering. Puhor, on the other hand, threw an arm around Junak's shoulders and said, "Yes."
Junak could've punched him. How big of a moron did Puhor have to be to befriend the man who was having meteor-sized complications with his younger brother?
Junak shoved Puhor away and took two deep breaths to calm himself. His parents were here and, for once in his life, his family was together. He would save yelling at Puhor for later.
Dikhou looked sad and uncertain when Junak faced him, which ruthlessly tugged at Junak's heart. "You..." He cleared his throat and fixed his gaze on Dikhou's chin. "You called my mother?"
Dikhou swallowed and did not answer.
"Yikes," Puhor unhelpfully added into the silence. He bundled the dhuti in his arms and walked towards the door. "I'm going to go now so feel free to have your angry make-up sex or whatever."
Great. The fleeting but incredibly vivid mental images of Dikhou doing him against the wall was the last thing Junak needed. He glowered to hide a blush and crossed his arms over his chest.
Dikhou waited till Puhor left, then asked, "Are you mad?"
Junak gulped the 'no' and instead said, "Why did you do it?"
Dikhou stared at him and, no matter how hard he tried, Junak couldn't look away. He felt weirdly exposed under Dikhou's gaze, like the latter could tell how hard Junak's heart was beating and how desperately he wanted to stop the goddamn lies.
When Dikhou spoke, his voice was the steadiest Junak had heard in a long time. "Because I learned something about you."
"W-What?"
Dikhou mimicked Junak and folded his arms over his chest, his bare – always with the goddamn sleeves folded – forearms straining temptingly. "When a crisis happens, you evade. You don't... you don't trust people. At least not enough to have an honest conversation with them."
That was a slap to Junak's face and he probably deserved it.
"So I figured you must be doing the same with your parents. Was I right?"
Fuck him. Fuck that beautiful, incredible man whom Junak wanted to kiss so badly right now.
Dikhou's shoulders slumped when he did not get a response. "Was I right?" he repeated, less certain this time.
Junak shrugged and looked away, pouting.
Dikhou weakly bit back a smile on getting his 'yes'.
Neither spoke for a while after that. They just stood there, two feet apart, in an oddly tender silence.
Junak's heart was so loud it made him nervous. The urge to do something – to fill the silence, or maybe the space, between them – was like an itch under his skin.
"I'm sorry," Dikhou's words came in a rushed pant of whisper, "that I left that night."
Junak did not want to do this again. He could not.
"I was... I was so scared that you would leave me that I... I..."
"That you had to leave first, I get it."
Dikhou looked like he wanted to hold him. Junak wished he did.
"But I don't care about that anymore," Dikhou whispered. "I just..."
Junak was at the naked edge of his resolve. It hurt too much to keep doing this and, he knew, if Dikhou asked him one more time, he would relent.
"I understand that you don't want that anymore," Dikhou said, "but can we at least be friends? Or... acquaintances? Neighbours? Whatever? Can we just not avoid each other?"
It took Junak all his strength not to let the disappointment seep into his features. But this was good, he told himself. It was better this way.
"I really miss you, Jun. And I don't want to spend the rest of your remaining days here avoiding you."
Junak gulped the heavy ache in his chest. "N-Not in public, though. You – you will stay away if there are people around. Outsiders, I mean."
Dikhou nodded, the relief clear on his face. "Okay."
"Okay."
He gave Junak an unsteady smile. "Okay."
Junak shifted on his feet and bit the inside of his lip. "I – I have to go now."
Dikhou nodded.
"I mean, Papa went to the hospital to check on koka and I need to pick him up – why do you have that expression?"
"Uh..." Dikhou ran a hand through his hair, looking anxious. "Did you say your father went to the hospital?"
"Yeah..."
"So did my mother."
Junak's eyes widened. "Oh, shit."
"I'm sure everything's fine," Junak said as he and Dikhou speed-walked through the hospital corridors.
"Yeah. They're adults."
"Your mom isn't going to kill Papa, is she?"
"Don't be silly." Dikhou did not sound convinced.
Junak increased his pace.
They saw Jatin first, sitting on a bench outside Grandpa's room. He was engrossed in a game on his phone and barely looked up as the two men approached.
"Oi." Junak tapped his shoulder.
"Oh. Junak-da. Hi." Jatin beamed, his eyes darting between Junak and Dikhou. Junak wasn't sure if the news about them had reached Jatin yet but judging from his smug look it was obvious that Priti had filled him in on everything.
"Is Papa here?"
Jatin's smile fell. "Yeah." He pointed to the door.
Junak and Dikhou tiptoed towards the room and Junak opened the door an inch to peer inside. Dikhou stood beside him, arms touching, as he followed his line of sight.
Grandpa sat against the headboard, his face pale and he seemed to be trembling. Dikhou's mother was leaning on the wall beside the bed, her shoulders tight and chin held high. Junak's father was sitting on a chair with his back to the door but his hunched posture was a clear indication of his mood.
All three grown-ass adults had been crying.
Dikhou, on seeing his mother sniff into her sador, was about to barge in but Junak put a hand to his chest, stopping him. Dikhou looked down at Junak, obvious he was going to protest, but then the voices from inside the room reached their ears and Dikhou stayed put.
"– it was convenient for you to make me the villain, wasn't it?" Junak's father said.
"Can you two stop arguing?" This was Dikhou's mother, her voice calm and steady even then. "It doesn't help anyone."
"Don't tell me you side with him, Nibha," Junak's father said, pointing at the old man on the bed. "You know very well the kind of man he is."
"I also know very well the kind of man you are," she retorted.
Junak and Dikhou exchanged a glance. Junak did not quite understand what Dikhou was thinking but he had an inkling this was not going to go down well.
"Yes, please, shove all your bullshit moral superiority on me because I don't nearly get that enough from my own father."
Dikhou's mother crossed her arms but did not say anything.
Junak noticed his father's hands clench around the armrests. "You know how much Luit meant to me."
The woman scoffed.
And that seemed to hit a nerve. Junak's father leaned forward on the chair and growled, "Just because you're his wife doesn't mean you can speak for him."
"Who can, then? You? Who didn't even come to his funeral?"
"Nibha!" the man cried, jumping to his feet.
Dikhou fought against Junak's hold to barge in.
"Please," Junak whispered into his shoulder, "I need to hear this."
Dikhou's jaw clenched. "He cannot speak to my mother like–"
"You want the truth?" Junak's father challenged. "Both of you?" He ran a hand through his hair and took a step back. He was a big man, tall and broad-shouldered like Puhor, but at that moment, he looked defeated. And old. "After our Majuli venture failed, we... we got a lucrative deal with another company but it needed us to go to Sikkim. I was ready to take it... but Luit wasn't. Because he didn't want to leave you," he told Dikhou's mother. "So I said okay, we'll take our families with us. But that moron," a heart-wrenching sob escaped past his lips and his voice shook, "did not want to leave Assam. So we fought. Over this. Over something this stupid and the last thing I ever said to him was go, I don't need you."
Junak's father, the man who commanded respect and authority in any room full of people, crumbled and broke down into tears. He heavily fell back on the chair and cried, loud enough for all to hear. Loud enough to bring tears to Junak's eyes.
Dikhou wrapped an arm around Junak's waist and pulled him close to his chest. Junak let him.
"I needed him," Junak's father sobbed. "I've needed him every day of my godforsaken life and I... I can't – I can't..."
If him crying wasn't bizarre enough, Dikhou's mother walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. She was crying too, but silently.
Junak felt his heart break.
"I know friendship isn't a serious enough relationship for any of you but Luit meant more to me than my own brother. He was my rock and I – I loved him so much. So I'm sorry if I couldn't come to the fucking funeral, Nibha; I'm sorry I couldn't see him... like that. It hurt. So much. A-And – and it's still here," he slammed a fist to his chest, over his heart, "the pain. It won't leave."
"I know, Niyor," Dikhou's mother said in a hushed voice that was trembling at the edges. "I know."
He turned his face towards a barren wall. "Coming back here was – is – too painful. We've grown up here. I – I see Luit everywhere."
Junak buried his face on Dikhou's shoulder, fruitlessly blinking away tears. Dikhou fingers were clenched around Junak's coat in a death-grip. Anyone who walked past could see them like that, clinging to each other outside the door, but it was the last thing that seemed to matter.
"And it's your fault, don't you see?" Junak's father jabbed a finger towards his father. "Luit was so stressed about the land we lost. None of this would've happened if you had just given me the money I asked for. What do you do with all that money anyway? Are you happy sitting on it and keeping it warm or whatever?"
"Wait..." Dikhou's mother turned to Grandpa. "What is he talking about, bor-deuta?"
Grandpa turned his face away, his paper-thin expression crumbling.
"Oh, you don't know, Nibha?" Junak's father sneered. "My father refused to give me my own inheritance. To fund my business. I wasn't even asking for the whole portion. It was the bare minimum!"
She gaped at the old man. "Why?" The unasked part of her question was obvious – why did you not give him the money when you have so much property to spare?
When she did not get an answer, she took a step closer to the bed. Her hands were fisted at her side. "Is this why you were so generous to us all these years? Not because you care, but because you felt guilty?"
The remorse on Grandpa's face was answer enough. "Nibha..."
She scoffed and threw up her hands. She then turned around and stormed out of the room.
Only, she jerked the door open and came face-to-face with her son. And Junak. In not the most appropriate of postures.
They pushed away from each other.
"Junak?" It was his father. "What are you...?"
"How long have you two been standing here?" Dikhou's mother snapped.
Junak's soul left his body, but thankfully Dikhou was still in his senses. "We're sorry, Ma."
She glowered and shook her head. Junak thought she would say something about... them but she just shoved past their shoulders and walked away.
Dikhou jogged after her, leaving Junak alone with his father and grandfather.
Great.
He swallowed his nervousness and stepped into the room.
"Oh, Junak." His father rubbed his forehead. "I wish you hadn't heard all that."
"I... I knew bits of it already."
His father looked surprised, then narrowed his eyes at Grandpa. "What else did you tell my son?"
"Papa, no." Junak stepped between the two men. "Don't. Koka is... he..." It was difficult to see his grandfather in this new light, after everything his mother told him and then this. But his grandmother had once said, it's in your blood, to pretend to be villains, and he latched onto that. "He... he's not so bad, you know? He... he regrets how he treated you."
"Oh Junak. I think it's commendable what you're trying to do but–"
"No! I'm serious." He turned to his grandfather. "Koka, please. Someone smart once told me that when there's a crisis, I evade. That I don't trust people enough to have an honest conversation with them. I – I think that y-you do it too." He took a deep breath. "So I want you to talk to Papa."
His grandfather offered him a weak smile and stretched out a shaky hand. Junak took it in his firm grip. "Thank you, Junak, but... there's nothing to talk about. I've made mistakes and... it's all my fault."
Junak's father looked stunned at his confession but Junak was not done. This wasn't what he wanted. "No, koka. I want you to talk to Papa. Tell him why you did what you did. I – you – you're a good man, I know it. It's why aita loves you and Jatin and Priti and Dikhou love you. It's why I love you. But you need to talk to Papa, please. It – it's hurting both of you."
His grandfather tore his hand out of Junak's hold. "I... I'm not feeling too well. You should leave."
Junak's father scoffed.
Junak was too deep in this to give up now. "Koka," he said firmly. "W-Why didn't you... give Papa the money?"
For a minute, Junak thought his grandfather would not answer. Then, without looking at either of the men in the room, he said, "I didn't trust him."
"Yeah." Junak's father let out a humourless chuckle. "We know that already. You only trust your kids who have distinctions on their degrees." He rose to his feet. "This is futile, Junak. I already know what my father thinks of me."
"Like you gave me any choice, Niyor?" the older man broke in. "You never once showed to me that you could be trusted. You were always hankering for ways to ruin your own name."
"Oh, this about your silly reputation again–"
"No," Grandpa breathed. "No, Niyor, this is about your life. The life that you were content on throwing away. Smoking by the road, getting into fights, bunking your classes, that's all you ever did. How could I trust you to run a business like that?"
Junak's father was scowling. "That had nothing to do with my business. I was serious about my business."
Grandpa looked resigned. "Well, it would've helped to see you being serious about anything else in your life first."
Junak's father was breathless as he glared. "Well, look at what I've built now."
"I see it. And I'm proud of you."
That broke all the confidence and annoyance that Junak anyway knew was a pretence. His father turned his back to his family and stayed silent.
Junak glanced between the two men, then slowly took a step closer to his father. "Papa."
"Are you done now, Junak? Because I want to leave."
Junak's heart was racing. "You know, Papa, p-parenting doesn't come with – with an instruction manual. I know you don't like koka but he – he admits he m-made mistakes and he regrets them. He wants to do better. B-Believe me. A-And he was really kind to me... these last few weeks. He and – and aita. Both of them, they ask about you and – and they miss you."
His father did not budge.
"A-And you... you've been a bad father too, at – at times. And there were times when I was a bad son. But it's not all that we are. We m-make mistakes and I – I love you. Papa. And koka, he... he loves you too."
Junak's father stayed silent for one long, treacherous minute. When he finally turned to his son, he was smiling; and what a goddamn relief it was! "Look at you, all grown-up."
Junak mirrored the smile. "And look at you, crying like a kid."
A laugh burst out of his chest, loud and happy. He threw an arm around Junak. "Did you hear the instruction manual bit from your mother?"
Junak nodded. Though his father was only a few inches taller than him, Junak felt small. But in a good way. Perhaps the best way one could feel small.
"Hmm. It sounded like her," he said, then looked at his father. "You're getting discharged tomorrow, aren't you?"
The old man nodded.
"I'll come pick you up."
"Thank you, son."
Junak felt something loosen in his chest. It wasn't much, the casual remark his father threw without any care, but it was something. And it gave him hope.