A False Kingdom
- Part 4 -

By Nameirakpam Bobo Meitei *

Then unexpectedly came the bright light of some vehicle coinciding the sky-shattering lightening. It was a small Suzuki car, the doors on both sides opened at the same time ,the person at the wheel, a lean figure came out singing " Born in the USA" and another, a lady, below an umbrella giggling. They came up stood with their backs to me, the man continued singing in his croaky voice and became louder. It was a drunken voice. The lady had a bottle of whiskey in one hand ,she had been drinking and it was out of that inebriated state she was giggling. The man asked for the bottle, the bottle changed hands; the man lifted it up and drank as though he was drinking water straight from the bottle.

While the man was drinking the lady swung her head and discovered my presence and she screamed and the man shouted "What the fuck! Tell me!" I said something to calm them down. Then the lady moved forward and she was close enough for me to examine. She was Jamimah. In her wasted state still couldn't figure out who I was. Her male companion stood behind her in a clumsy position suggesting he could slither like a snake to the ground and wouldn't have the power to rise. I said who I was and she was silent for few seconds and then her mouth opened and screamed again, but this time with my name in it.

She said she had had a long day and wanted some fresh air after a brief visit to the holy place.The man behind her wasn't introduced to me. He was terribly intoxicated, shuffling his feet removed himself a little and stood right below the edge of the awning. Knowing the situation in which she was caught up ,between two men she stood neither looking at me nor displaying she had a male companion. Her head stooped ,arms akimbo and her right foot tapping and unexpectedly declared, "Julian, you drive us to my house." No word came from the man's direction but I could see him move and he was already in the car and started the engine.

I scarcely had time to stuff in my sleeping back in the bottom compartment of my pack. As everything happened in such an unexpected way; a little while ago I was looking at the dark night seeing my dark life, dwelling in my usual solitude and now because of the sudden arrival of a person was going to drag me to her place through this sheer darkness of night.

Inside the car no one talked she and I sat in the back, her arm rubbing against mine. My pack on the front seat and in the mirror the sight of the drunken man driving the car slightly sulking, but not yet letting us know, we moved through the pitch-black night with threatening rain. I couldn't afford to pay much attention to his slightly sulking face in the rectangular mirror, the rain was hammering effectively, effective enough to drown out any noise inside the car, and every now and then it ran into the abundant potholes and it sent us up and shook us. To dodge the potholes he had to swerve,jolting us inside his tiny box and throwing her confused and intoxicated head over my chest and then on my lap. She did know where she was so she rose, but her arm pressed against me harder, generating some sort of a friction.

We both could feel it rising and yet able to put a lid on it. But what was bothering me at the same time was the fact that she wasn't aware of it, not knowing that she was with me. I wanted her to feel that, but one could never have a perfect world one had imagined, only in imagination one could perfect that.

It was in front of a row of shop-houses, perching on the edge of the road, the car pulled up, the place was subject to darkness. When we got off and thanked him he smiled, only a customary smile, then he drove off without saying anything to her. She was wet and I didn't understand why she made no use of the umbrella she had in her hand. Perhaps the alcohol had rendered her senses numb. We walked till the end of the row and ran into a winding concrete staircase. After two flights of steps we stopped on a landing facing a wooden door below a wooden cross of the savior.

It was a two-roomed flat. In the living room she had a television set, two bean bags ,and set into the wall was a small platform wide enough to hold a gas stove, and tall enough to place an LPG cylinder below it. The room was poorly lit but it was cozy with the cold and the comforting space. A thin ply wood partition separated the bedroom from the living-cum-kitchen room. A thick mattress wrapped in a light blue-coloured sheet was set against the wall. The bathroom was unusually clean and bore sign of some serious hand.

She didn't say anything. The umbrella was dumped in some corner in the living room and her shoes were kicked off and she darted towards the bedroom. From the bedroom the bulb in the living room was switched off giving the impression the bedroom was the operating room. She flung her clothes over the bed and hurried into the bathroom. The door was half closed and through the gap I could see her unclothed figure. I told myself " she's aware of everything." She came out quick and stood naked, water dripping from her hair, eyes fixated on me and said "Khagemba, what has happened to you? What have you done to yourself?"

Her questions distracted me from the boiling passion and made me a bit thoughtfully introspective. I couldn't dive deep into that now. I said "well, I don't know,Jami. I smell bad and am dirty. I need a shower. May be after it I might have the answer." She shrugged her bare shoulders and walked around looking for her towel; she couldn't find it, I pulled out mine from the pack and gave it to her.

When I came out from the bathroom she was already below a thick white blanket. I couldn't tell what it was;whether it was convenient passion or something we both had been waiting for long. Only the end could determine. She was up early and brought me a cup of hot black coffee and what she had prepared was precisely the stuff I was addicted to. She put it down beside the bed and said "I don't get it why you like this poison." I smiled and replied "Well, it kills you when you are fresh and awake." She threw her hand showing disapproval at the same time she smiled.

After breakfast she laid down the plans for the day. She wanted to take me to her holy place in the downtown area. The congregation would be great, said she. I asked her since when she had started going to holy places. She knew my critical interest in religions and instead of facing the music she hymned and deliberately ignored my question. I hadn't been to a religious place in ages.Out of half-sincere desire to appease my curiosity I didn't ask her to change her plans for the day.

She was in a suit and I was in Jack Wolfskin trousers and a waterproof jacket, wearing the same boots. I could sense that she wasn't pleased with the way I had dressed up, but she was someone who knew me well enough not to argue over it. A black taxi rolled up seeing us. Its front looked blessed with the bright stickers of the Maker and the text from the holy book against the faded background. He drove us honking along the empty road of the city to the holy place. The city was an empty place with all shops shut and few people walking. What made one understand that the city was alive was the sound of gospels exuding from the tiny holy places. Her holy place was a well-known place in the region.

I stood out among the people in suits and the young beautiful ladies at the gate greeting the crowd observed me from head to muddy Timberland boots. After the hostile like observation they removed their eyes from me. For a moment I thought they would go explode and drag me. Jamimah took me at the right arm and led me in to her holy place.

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 March 09 2011.