Project Heart - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

"It's day one and Niri is already mad at you."
Junak sighed, slouching further to rest his chin on his palm, elbow on his knees. He was sitting on a wooden bench in front of a small fire. Banhi sat next to him, wrapped in a shawl with a camera held in her hands.
When the sun dipped behind the horizon and darkness crept in, the servants pulled out chairs and benches from the house and arranged them in the backyard, around several small bonfires. The neighbours poured in soon after, filling the air with chatter, laughter and music.
"I knew you were scared of horror films," Banhi continued, her eyes on the camera screen that was focused on the fire crackling in front of them, "but I never knew you're actually scared of ghosts."
Their circle of fire was occupied by just the two of them. A farther away Junak's grandparents sat with other older people of the village. A larger fire was lit in front of them, bathing the ten or so people in orange. Niribili was sitting with the cooks, happily chatting and helping them out by cutting vegetables.
Junak hid his face in his palms and groaned. "Can you drop it already?" Somehow, the entire village had come to know about it – when the people greeted him and introduced themselves, they casually slid in a reminder that there were no ghosts in Nonrong, he need not worry. The sheer embarrassment of it made Junak want to leave and return to the city, but the promises of the Diamond Jury made him swallow his pride and stay put.
Of course, that did not mean he was going to forgive or forget the jerk who pranked him.
Even in the mere few hours that Junak had been there, he could tell his grandparents adored Dikhou. He was there the whole time, helping the servants set up the bonfires and chairs. He was their neighbour's son, but Grandpa and Grandma spoke to him like he was their grandson. "He's practically part of the family," Grandma had said when she found Junak fuming over the prank, "so consider him your older brother and don't take his mischief to heart, okay?"
Older brother, his ass! The farther away Dikhou stayed from Junak, the better it was.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Banhi threw an arm around Junak's shoulders and lightly shook him. "I'll help you prank Dikhou in return, how's that?"
She knew him too damn well. Junak smiled as he nodded and looked up.
She mirrored his smile. "Now stop sulking. We'll have to get to work from tomorrow, so enjoy the night." She clapped her hands. "I heard they make some great local alcohol here?"
Junak chuckled. "I know nothing about any local alcohol."
"Ugh." Banhi pursed her lips. "You're a terrible guide."
That was... true. He had spent all his life in faraway cities and, apart from occasionally meeting his grandparents when they visited, he knew nothing about the village his father was born and brought up in.
"I'll go ask a local." Banhi got to her feet, slung the camera over her shoulder and skipped away towards Niribili.
As Junak watched her go, his eyes fell on the one guy he did not want to see.
Dikhou was sitting a couple of feet away, surrounded by kids. He had changed out of his shirt and was now wearing a dark green hoodie over a grey t-shirt. There was a large loudspeaker kept next to him, from which popular Bihu songs were blaring out in full volume. Some of the children were dancing, while others sat beside him, giggling and chatting animatedly.
Junak stared. He couldn't help it. A new song started that seemed to grab Dikhou's attention. He hooted, then raised his arms and began flicking his wrists in sync with the music. The night and the bonfire lit up his features in light and shadows, sharpening them, making him look strangely different from earlier. Junak couldn't really tell how but it just was.
"Junak, right?"
Startled, Junak looked to his side to find a young woman standing next to him, smiling warmly. He nodded.
"Mind if I join?" she asked.
"Please." Junak shifted to make room for her on the wooden bench.
"Hope I'm not disturbing you." Her voice was low and melodious. "You were sitting alone so I decided to come provide company."
He was sitting alone because all the young adults in the village seemed determined to stay away from him – the guys didn't even acknowledge him, and the girls eyed him from afar and kept their distance. "T-Thank you."
"I'm Kopili," she said. She was wearing a mekhela sador with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her curly hair was tied back in a long, messy ponytail.
There was something very... familiar about her. "Are you...?" he asked before he could fully decide on a question.
Strangely, she understood. "Dikhou's sister? Yes." She chuckled. "He told me you two have met."
Mention of the Jerk worsened his mood though the girl seemed nice enough. Quite pretty too.
"I'm sorry on his behalf," she added on not getting a response.
Junak internally winced. She knew about the prank too, of course; there went his reputation in front of a beautiful woman! "How does everyone know about it?"
"News travels fast around here," Kopili answered, kindly. "And your grandfather thought it was hilarious."
Great, even his own people were turning their backs on him!
"Don't worry, though, people are just teasing you. They'll forget come morning."
Junak sighed. "I hope so." He wrapped his arms around himself, over the fluffy peach sweater he was wearing, and stretched out his legs closer to the fire to warm his toes.
Kopili was silent for a beat as she looked away from him. Then, in a voice that was almost a whisper, she said, "It's nice to see you after so long."
A pang of guilt hit his chest.
"I know you don't remember me." She let out a low chuckle. "It's okay, you were quite young back then."
Junak looked over at her. Though he hadn't thought so earlier, under the golden glow of the firelight, she looked older than him.
She smiled on noticing his eyes on her. Perhaps understood this unasked question too, and said, "I'm a few years older than you. I was the go-to person whenever you and Dikhou fought over something really silly."
Junak was starting to get annoyed that he did not remember anything about this supposed enemy relationship he had with the Jerk. It was also equally strange that this unknown woman was privy to a part of his life that he himself had forgotten.
"How are your parents?" Kopili asked on not receiving any response. "And your brother?"
Junak sucked in a deep breath. "They're good."
Kopili nodded. "They must be very busy."
If she meant to mock him, Junak couldn't sense it. "They are, yeah," he muttered.
"I heard you were studying in America?"
Junak looked down at his hands on his lap, a small video camera resting between his fingers. It was turned off; he didn't really find anything that pulled at him the way things did whenever they had stories hidden for him. "I am, yeah." He paused, then realised that he was being a lousy conversationalist, so he added, "We have a break of sorts to work on our projects, so I returned to Guwahati."
Kopili smiled. "This little trip of yours is for inspiration, then? Or did you just want to show your homeland to your friends?"
Though her words and tone were cordial, Junak had a strange inkling that there was something lurking underneath. Something not quite so pleasant. "I – we... we are here to make a film actually."
"Oh? That sounds fun."
"Y-Yeah." Before Kopili could ask more – and he could tell she was going to – he said, "What about you? What do you do?"
"Nothing fancy." She waved a hand, smiling. "I'm a teacher here, in the middle school. Those," she pointed at the group of children gathered around Dikhou, "are my kids."
Junak watched the children. He spotted Lohor amidst them, wearing a gamocha around his head. Before he could help himself, Junak asked, "And what does your brother do?"
"He just completed his postgraduation. I have no idea what he plans on doing next."
Some petty part of Junak wondered how a moron like him even managed to get a degree.
"You know, you–"
A girl, around five or so years old, ran up to them, interrupting Kopili. She had two small brass plates in her hands, which she handed to the two adults.
"Thank you, Pakhi," Kopili said.
Junak took one plate from the girl, then looked down at its contents – four small pieces of fried fish.
"These are... appetisers." Kopili grinned. "That's what you call them, right?"
Junak nodded absently. There were no spoons or forks so he wiped his hand on his pants and reached out to pick up a piece of fish, only to retract it with a hiss. It was sizzling hot.
Pakhi giggled from where she stood staring at the older man. He looked at her and smiled. "What are you looking at?" he said, teasing.
The girl was swinging her body side-to-side. Shyly, she pointed at Junak's head, at the scarf he was wearing. It was a hooded woollen scarf with dog ears on top.
He leaned down, laughing, as she reached out to touch the ears. "Do you like it?"
Pakhi nodded.
Junak unwrapped the scarf and handed it to her. "Here, you can try it on."
"Nooo." The girl shook her head. "I cannot take it."
"Yes, you can. I'm bored of it, to be honest."
Pakhi looked at Kopili, as if scared of what the elder might say. When Kopili did nothing except watch with an amused smile, Pakhi let Junak wrap the scarf over her head and around her shoulders. Nearly giddy from excitement, she ran away to show it off to her friends.
Junak realised his mistake the moment chilly breeze hit his now-exposed ears, making him shiver. His ears were extra sensitive to the cold, had been for as long as he could remember, but now, having given away his scarf to win himself some cool-adult points, there was nothing he could do except sit and bear it.
And then there was also the issue with the fried fish. There were bones in it, so sharp and so thin that he had no idea how to eat without bleeding or choking to death. He saw Kopili attentively pick out the bones, and though he tried to mimic her, it was impossible to see the tiny needles in the dim firelight.
Maybe his distress was visible on his face, or maybe it was a mother-thing to know these things, but his grandmother showed up a little later, asking if he needed help. She sat next to him and peeled the fish for him. She also took over the conversation with Kopili, freeing Junak from what was starting to feel like an interrogation.
It was almost midnight by the time dinner was prepared. Junak sat next to his grandfather and other adults, eating rice, mutton and fish made over an open fire. It was one of the most delicious meals he had ever had. Though the feeling of being an outsider stuck to him like an irritating, catchy song playing on loop in one's head, feeling the presence of his two friends beside him helped. Listening to the villagers, conversations that made no sense to him, Junak was hit by the strange realisation that this, despite all the unfamiliarity, was definitely better than sitting at a large dining table all alone.
"I found the local alcohol," Banhi whispered when the two went to discard their plates and wash their hands. A young lad, called Jatin, took their plates and worked the handpump for them to clean up.
"I'm not surprised," Junak replied.
"Come on." Banhi grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the bonfires. She led him around the byre – a small building made of wood and straws that housed six cows – and towards an open shed that had hay and rice stalks stacked in it. There, sitting on ledges or sprawling on the ground, were a group of young men, laughing and sharing bottles of (what clearly looked like) alcohol. Niribili was also there, talking to a short guy who looked soberer than the rest.
Two guys cheered when they saw Banhi approach and handed her a bottle. She took a sip, scrunched her face at the taste and held it out to Junak.
As Junak put it to his lips, his eyes fell on a certain young man with curly black hair who was leaning against a tall pile of hay. He had his gaze on Junak, a curious smirk on his lips.
Huffing, Junak downed the whole bottle.