Project Heart - Chapter 39: Chapter 39

A hush fell over the house when Niribili and Banhi left, along with Prapti and Megha. Grandma teared up while bidding them goodbye, making Niribili promise she was going to stay in touch. The old couple also sent them bags full of eatables which made Banhi go all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Puhor, for whatever reason, did not leave. Junak suspected it was to make sure he did not extend his week-long stay to... a month. Or more. Because he thought about doing so all the time.
One week, see, was not nearly enough. Junak felt like he was running out of air to breathe.
He spent the mornings with his grandmother, then had breakfast with his grandfather. After this Dikhou would show up. And though all Junak wanted to do was make out with him, it apparently wasn't proper - as Dikhou subtly pointed out - to be doing that in the obvious knowledge of his grandparents, so instead, they spent several hours working together.
Dikhou would bring his books and Junak would get his laptop and they would sit on Junak's bed, always touching somehow - either Junak would lay his head on Dikhou's lap or they would sit with their arms pressed together. It was everything Junak had ever wanted from a relationship - the uncomplicated comfort and peace. He did not even need the music blasting in the background, Dikhou's breaths and his murmurs when he focused too hard on something was enough.
Dikhou had lunch with Junak and his family during the whole week.
They curled up together in bed in the afternoons, cuddling or talking.
They told each other about their lives before they met. Junak spoke of his school days, his friends, the reckless parties he used to throw for popularity, the plays he performed and the songs and scripts he wrote in secret. He spoke of the good memories, bad memories and even the most embarrassing ones just to get drunk on Dikhou's laughter. Dikhou told him about his time in college, about how he had always struggled with his friendships. He narrated stories of his family, his childhood and whispered secret memories that he swore no one else was privy to.
Junak soaked it all in, hoping it would keep him warm when the man himself was no longer there next to him.
It was a pathetic attempt at best, but what else could he do?
He also made videos. Loads of them. Of his grandparents, Jatin, Priti and her family. Of the house. Of Lohor in his mischiefs. And of Dikhou, of course. Dikhou standing in the backyard talking to Kopili, Dikhou intently reading a book, Dikhou crouched on the ground to pet a stray dog, Dikhou smiling and Dikhou singing and Dikhou looking at Junak with pure adoration in his eyes.
Dikhou was not allowed to stay the nights - for decency or some bull shit like that - but he sneaked in after Junak's grandparents went to sleep and sneaked out before the crack of dawn. Junak went to sleep to the warmth of his skin but always woke up alone, to the lingering scent of Dikhou on his sheets. A part of Junak wanted to whine and complain but a bigger part of him knew Dikhou was already giving him all he could.
They did not have sex after the outburst it caused the last, and only time, Junak had asked him about it. He kept hoping Dikhou would bring it up again but he never did. Junak told himself it was probably better this way. He already felt like he had lost everything to Dikhou and, with each passing minute, the ache in his chest simply kept worsening so maybe it was better to not throw sex into it.
Despite it, whenever Junak woke up alone on a bed smelling of Dikhou, he let himself imagine what it would be like; Dikhou was already so passionate with his kisses and touches.
But he could not ask again. Not without putting undue pressure on Dikhou. If Dikhou wanted it, they would have already done it. The thought of the rejection stung, which was slightly surprising in itself because all Junak could feel at this point was the pain and sorrow suffocating the entirety of him.
Puhor being there acted as a form of tether that rooted Junak to reality. Puhor did not bring up the topic of their eventual departure - no one did - but he would come and start a random conversation with Junak when Dikhou was not around and it worked as a good distraction.
That was how Junak lived the best yet most terrible week of his life - with distractions and Dikhou.
The dread fully cemented into him on the last day. It left him helpless, angry and paralysed.
He woke up to a cold bed as usual. He laid a hand on the empty space to his left, grabbed the pillow and brought it close to his chest. He laid there then, breathing in and out.
He did not cry. The familiar numbness draped over his skin.
He took a bath in that cold water he had grown accustomed to and sat on the porch to have the morning tea with his grandfather and Puhor. They smiled at him like it was another ordinary day and struck up a conversation on how cold this year's winter had been. Junak listened, living each moment to its fullest. He stared at his grandfather, the man who had turned from stranger to family, from someone out of a history book to a mortal man capable of making mistakes. Junak was going to miss him. A lot. A dreadful voice in his head pointed out his grandfather's papery frame and told him how he might never see this man again after he left.
The agony of it forced Junak to walk away and call Niribili. She and Banhi were staying at his house in Guwahati, waiting for him to join them, after which they would leave for America together.
"Good morning," came her familiar sleep-laced voice.
Junak had no idea what he was doing.
"You okay?"
"I... no."
Niribili's breaths filled the line. "I'm sorry, Jun."
He blurted it before he lost all his courage, "Can I stay here for a few more days?"
There was a sigh, heavy and tired but not surprised. "Jun..." She did not finish her sentence. She did not need to.
He was being selfish. And putting his friend in a tight spot. They might have finished shooting but a lot of work still remained - editing and adding the sound effects were the most important parts of compiling a film together. He had been trying to do as much as he could but he needed WiFi and the three needed to be together to finally put it all in place.
"Classes start in three weeks, Jun," Niribili said. "And the Jury submissions end in a month."
He swallowed but the lump in his throat stayed. "You're right. I'll uh... I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'm so sorry, Jun."
Junak cut the call and dropped his phone in his pocket.
He had twenty four hours left to bid his farewells.
He started with Priti. She was making breakfast and he offered to help. "We're really going to miss you," she said as they worked side by side.
Junak kept his eyes on the pitha he was frying. "I'll miss everyone too, Priti-ba, including you. I'll never be satisfied with anyone else's cooking ever again."
She rolled her eyes but smiled shyly. "Will you visit again?"
Junak nearly dropped the spatula. "I'll try."
She gave him a smile, one that said she believed him, and they prepared the rest of the meal together.
He volunteered to help Jatin wash the dishes after breakfast. The young man protested but gave up when Junak rolled his sleeves and pants and grabbed the handpump.
"Don't you forget about me, okay?" Jatin said.
"I'm offended you'd think otherwise." Junak threw a handful of water at the boy.
"I'll have no one to play carrom with now."
Oh, how was Junak going to survive this? "You've got Dikhou."
Jatin's expression softened. It was incredible how the youngster took in the news of him and Dikhou without any reluctance or disgust. "We're all going to miss you, Junak-da."
Junak blinked rapidly.
"Did you know, koka and aita used to be very different before you came here?"
Junak did not know that. "What do you mean?"
"They used to be quiet and they barely smiled. It's why Dikhou-da used to come here all the time, you know, to take care of them. But after your arrival, they've become genuinely happy. You've added life to their lives."
Junak scrubbed a bowl. "All of you have added life to my life."
Jatin gave him a blinding smile.
Dikhou did not show up even as the day neared noon. Junak spent the hours with his grandmother who thankfully did not talk about missing him. She instead asked about what he was going to do now, after returning to his university.
It was still terrible, of course. Junak laid his head on her lap and talked, unable to get rid of the sinking feeling that this might be the last time they ever did this.
And it was not fair.
Pakhi and her mother showed up for lunch, so did Priti's husband and their two kids. Dikhou was not there.
As everyone retired to rest after lunch, Puhor quietly reminded him to pack his bags. It was the final nail.
"Do you need... help?" Puhor asked.
Junak shook his head.
He walked into the room he had made his home over the last couple of weeks - his room, his father's room - and stared at it. At the clothes strewn everywhere, at the mess collecting on the table. The flowers Dikhou had given him long ago were still there, dried and shrunken. The typewriter was under the table. His suitcase was collecting dust on a stool by the wall.
He needed to pack his things. He willed his limbs to move but he could not do it.
He instead climbed up on the bed, curled into the heavy blanket and stared at the wall clock.
Cows mooed outside. Children's laughter wafted in. Birds chirped, goats bleated. From downstairs, Puhor and Jatin's faint conversation tickled his ears.
It was exactly thirty eight minutes later that Dikhou finally showed up. He was wearing a full-sleeved t-shirt and a dark, sleeveless jacket on top of it. His jeans were baggy and faded and his slippers were the same ones Junak had noticed and absolutely hated on the first day he got here. He also looked like he had recently shaved, though his hair was an untamed mess as always.
Junak had to grit his teeth to bite back a sob.
Dikhou's steps were hesitant as he came and sat on the bed in front of Junak. He looked scared and uncertain, nothing like the cocky prankster from weeks ago.
"Where have you been?" Junak asked.
Dikhou stared down at his lap and shrugged, the slightest raise of his shoulders.
A few minutes ticked by in silence.
"Shouldn't you have packed by now?"
It was Junak's turn to shrug.
"Do you need help?"
Junak nodded.
Dikhou smiled, displaying his dimple. He rose to his feet and wrapped his hands over Junak's. "Come on."
Junak let him haul him off the bed. Dikhou then let go of his hands and turned to pick up a sweater from the chair. He threw it at Junak's chest. "Start folding, deha."
Junak had no idea how Dikhou was doing this - being okay ­- but Junak knew he had to match his pretence. It was the least he could do. So he got to work.
With a heavy heart, he pulled out his suitcase and flung it open on the bed. He then began to fold his clothes and place them inside, feeling something crack in him with each item he put away.
Dikhou being there helped, though he barely spoke.
And when he finally did speak, it shattered the thin façade Junak had horribly put together, "Jun."
"Hmm?"
"Can I keep one of your hoodies?"
Junak was glad he had his back to Dikhou. He held on to the table for support and stared at the blackened flowers. "You can keep me."
Dikhou let out a low laugh.
"I'm serious." A wild idea took root, growing inside him, snaking around all that damned sorrow. He turned to Dikhou and caught his hands that were holding Junak's unicorn hoodie. "Ask me to stay!"
Dikhou's expression rippled.
Junak stepped closer to him. "Ask me to stay, Dikhou. I'll stay."
"You can't."
"I can! I will. Please, just ask me to."
Dikhou clenched his jaw. "I won't."
"Dikhou-"
"You're being irrational, deha." Dikhou tried to smile but it came off as a grimace. "You cannot stay here. You've got things to do, a life to live."
"I don't care!"
"Yes, you do. Not this instant, maybe, but you do. You cannot stay here."
Junak was being pathetic and he knew it but he did not care. "Please. I want to be with you!"
Dikhou's lips trembled and his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I know. And... thank you for that, really. But you cannot stay here. I will never ask you to."
"But-"
Dikhou put his fingers over Junak's lips. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Please."
A tear fell down Junak's cheek. He stepped back and patted the hoodie in Dikhou's hands. "You can keep it. But I want this," he jabbed a finger at the jacket Dikhou was wearing, "in exchange."
Dikhou smiled. "You haven't returned the hoodie I left behind at your place. I'm running out of clothes, deha."
"I don't care."
Dikhou happily took off his jacket and handed it to Junak who neatly draped it over the back of the chair. "Not packing it?"
"No, I'll wear it tomorrow."
A rush of warmth fell over Junak as Dikhou wrapped an arm around his stomach and kissed him on the temple.
They worked in silence after that. Junak did not have too many things but it still took them over two hours to put everything inside the bag. Junak felt faint when he zipped the suitcase close. The only things remaining in the room were the clothes he'd wear the next day and the pebbles and dried flowers on the table.
From the end of the corridor, Jatin called them downstairs for tea.
"Come on." Dikhou wound his fingers around Junak's and tugged him out of the now empty room.
They used to have their evening tea outside on the lawn but after Junak's incident and his fear of being seen with Dikhou made them shift the party to the drawing room. That day, aside from his grandparents, Dikhou's mother, Kopili and Lohor were also there.
No one said anything about Junak and Dikhou's interlaced hands. Neither did they mention the very obvious fact that they were all gathered there because it was the last time Junak would be with them. Everyone instead spoke of harmless things and laughed about bygone days - the time Junak had caught a fish, or how Grandma once put salt instead of sugar in the tea. Puhor and Kopili helped keep the conversation going and there were times when Junak found himself smiling as well.
But as the hours trickled by and the people refused to leave, he grew restless. The hands of the clock were moving too fast and there was so much he had yet to say to Dikhou -
When everyone was laughing at some of Lohor's antics, Dikhou leaned closer to Junak and whispered, "I'll stay the night with you. For now, be here with them. They'll miss you too."
God, since when did Dikhou understand him so well?
Junak tightened his grip on Dikhou's fingers and nodded.