A False Kingdom
- Part 3 -

By Nameirakpam Bobo Meitei *

The premonition that I had courted now began to materialize and she sounded just like the character I had pictured. Yet I didn't want to emphasize on that personality, and besides all that I wanted was to see her and walk the streets like the good old time, reliving the past in which many things were left unsaid.

Everybody knew Deluxe Hotel, even an old lady with her cracked, wrinkled heels in dug-in slippers, the tiny frame shrouded in thick shawl pointed out the place and pronounced the name of the hotel clearly. I moved towards the pointed direction but the movement was arrested as suddenly more good-looking people swarmed about the place. They couldn't be accommodated on the footpath and were spilled over the narrow road, and were among the honking mini cars. It seemed like the place hadn't been touched by the VVIP's z-plus security arrangement.

Standing for a while and squeezing myself between the people I managed to get to the pointed out four-storey building, the tallest building in the area around. It stood at the beginning of a descending asphalted lane. The area around the door was below a triangular green turf, standing on the turf through the glass door I was able to view the mini-lounge made up of four armchairs and a tea-table in the centre.

A man in denim shorts stood with his right hand pressed against the back of one of the armchairs while the another on his hip, the toes of the right foot resting on left foot. His round face was greasy, so was the long black hair, but the greasy face moved, chewing something. The narrow eyes on the round face lost every now and then owing to the chewing activity. He resembled some rock star that had had his primetime in life and now enjoying his early retirement in some small hotel business.

Noticing me he stood straight and addressed me in a language which he spoke like English and yet none of the word sounded English. I didn't lose my composure despite being slightly confused.I had to maintain the composure as I needed a fair conversation with him. I put to him why I was there and patiently waited for his answer. He darted off without a word and disappeared in one corner and, much to my relief, returned with another man, a thin bespectacled man with long curly hair in torn jeans, a Gibson guitar in one hand.

He looked at me with great curiosity, didn't say anything for a while, his empty hand was busy managing the long curly hair and when he finally spoke like some teenage American boy, " we ain't got any room, bro. VVIP in town, you see. Been booked for days. Lotsa folks in town for VVIP. Try Godson Tavern, not far from here, straight from here and around some corners. A distinct place."

I thanked him and he said the Maker should bless me. I didn't think the Maker should bless me, nor did I ask for anything from him. I tried the direction but I discovered "Apostle's Tavern", its narrow and dusty steps between a Marwari-run hardware store and a pan kiosk from which blaring Bollywood music streaming out, creating a magnetic field with a small crowd milling about. The steps through a narrow alley and finally a landing was the hotel's counter, in front of the counter was a long white sofa which was taken up by few young men. They looked at me and then turned to each other as though indicating I had nothing they wanted. The men were talking in Bengali and they were drunk, so the words were rather incoherent to me even though I understand the language. The manager's head was below a grey cap and it bobbed up and addressed me.

He heard me out and said he could "arrange a room" for me. He ordered around and a sandaled boy moved and the boy shouted at someone whose presence was so far invisible, the voice of the invisible person was heard, rather indistinct, and then the ordered boy went in towards the direction from which the indistinct voice had come out. The boy didn't return. I stood by the counter, the manager with the cap didn't say anything and I assumed he was waiting for the boy's return.

Meanwhile the incoherent talk among the drunken men became hysterical and I felt like leaving the place, but I waited for it to die down. It didn't and finally it broke out and powerful fists started flying, the manager rushed to the spot and joined, he was met with few blows. The sound of the blows would have gone unnoticed had they travelled without whimpering sound.

The manager withdrew and he groped for something at his back and pulled out the thing to silence the fighters. There intoxication was over there and they became a surrendered people, the ordered boy returned with a well-built man and they jumped on the men and carried out the wish of the manager, while he stood few feet away with the thing aiming at them, warranting his absolute power.

I broke my silence and beseeched the thing-wielding man to stop whatever he had ordered to do. He turned over his shoulder and his wild ferocious eyes met my eyes, the words from his mouth were a match of the fury visible in his eyes , " who the hell are you? You wanna get shot as well?" While his fury was diverted toward me the ordered boy and the well-built man had done his wish. The boy said something fast in their dialect, and then the man's facial expression changed.

All of sudden his tone became servile and I thought he would start crawling to lick my dirty Timberland boots. I turned on my heels and hurried down, I could hear his voice following me raucous and rude but it was absorbed by the blaring Bollywood number from the kiosk.

The transformation outside was swift. Evening had brought its colour and it was enhanced by the sweeping mist. It swept across and then it settled darkening the place. What was visible were the dim street lamps and the honking mini vehicles with piercing headlights. Again in an abrupt manner the thickening settled mist was blown away by strong wind and the invisible sky presented itself in the form of a thick black sheet gathering its might to unleash over the earth. It was made known with the lightening in the form of long cracks and the shattering thunder.

The place was claimed by it and every soul had been banished. And those dim street lamps had also been put out and the whole place was completely overcome. Nothing moved, nothing was heard apart from the shattering thunders. I began to worry about myself in this strange place, the picture of a wet cur walking in rain, this was the picture I had in my mind. But human mind is always capable of several unexpected things, while I was confronting the discomforting picture of spending a night in torrential rain my mind was transported to the time I had spent in some part of Europe.

The nadir and the zenith of romanticism coupled with hope and conviction. It presented itself as an invincible feeling instigating the naivety in a young mind to muster unlimited courage and the fantasy any child wouldn't think of imagining. It was for that blissful romance which was mistaken for unconditional love that I flew to that continent just to be with her and when we became more intimate we realized we already had exhausted the passion which we had misconstrued as romance. At that point we were two strangers who understood each other without saying much to each other. We knew there should be an end to it but no one was sure how one should approach and how we would be able to deal with the eventual actuality.

Pretending nothing had happened we continued living below that uncertain roof. One morning she was gone and the moment she had left I became the person who couldn't live a moment longer on that continent. She was the reason and she was the source of inspiration. Soon after that realization I was at the airport and that was like being in front of a door and the world behind that door was the world where I had come from, but that door couldn't erase what had been imprinted on my mind. I would be in another world with the same feeling. How small the world then and I was worthless but there was no fear.

That flashback was vivid enough to send shudder down the spine and vivid enough to subdue the worry. So, I stood where I was and looked for a place where I could take shelter from the rain, since there was no hope for me to find lodging. Besides I had no intention to walk about the besieged town with a flashlight. I was willing to settle with my sleeping bag.

As I scanned the place around, I spotted an area below an awning in front of a shop. It was wide enough for me to spread out my sleeping bag. To be in the darkness was sufficient enough to make a man lonely but extreme darkness with torrential rain was sufficient enough for a man confined within a small area to feel terribly lonely. But people like me would be nothing without solitude and without the failures from the past. I sat on the unrolled-sleeping bag hugging myself and staring at the rain, its streaks and the streams it had created revealing by the lightening.

After sometime I felt there was nothing for me to look at as I had simply been staring at the darkness of the night and this darkness made me see the darkness in my soul. I didn't want that now. I wanted a distraction. There was no alcohol and the Faith-carved place was officially a dry state but technically everybody drank. I felt my pockets and found the Marlboro packet I had brought from the other world.

Smoking without relishing the tobacco I sat and looked at the rising smoke, it rose and it disappeared quickly; swept away by the wind and beaten down by the torrential rain. When the smoldering butt was flung I laid on my back below the awning. Still there was no sign of any vehicles or any souls around and I began to think I was in a bewitched place which the entire population had abandoned.

To be continued.....

Nameirakpam Bobo Meitei

* Nameirakpam Bobo Meitei, a resident of Bangkok, contributes to e-pao.net regularly.
The writer can be contacted at bobomeitei(at)hotmail(dot)com
This article was webcasted on January 13 2011.