Tasin
Yes, I'm Tasin.
I'm mentally repeating my names as my right palm remains firmly wrapped around Imon's pulpy hand.
He surmised it, and as soon as he did, he turned around, even though I was still holding his hands, and he looked at it before looking back at me, but my eyes don't look around because they are still on him as his eyes are telling me to release him, which I don't and I don't know why. I can see the discomfort in him from every angle but he isn't showing it. In reality, he decides to conceal it, and I'm not sure why. What's so strange about this?
Me...Holding his hands, his hands.
I usually touch hands with my buddies, but they don't react as he does. His staring is unnerving, and not just because he has major anger issues. It's because his appearance makes me feel lost, lost in the clouds of tonight's sky.
"Is there anything I should be informed of?"
"No"
"If it isn't, can you?" His voice drops pleasantly at the last phrase as his eyes point to my hand, which I was holding, implying he wants me to let go. I let go of his hand and nervously scratch my shoulder with that hand, and his face changed, but not in a negative way. It changes hues as he walks towards the bed to sleep, while I stand here and observe his movements.
"That would be good. If you sleep in bed, I'll sleep on the floor. It's fine. It's not even that cold outside. I'll be Okay. You're unwell, so relax."
The words escape my tongue as I stare at the mattress and then at Imon. He'd already dozed out on the bed as if he hadn't slept in years. I expected him to be appreciative or to invite me to sleep in his bed, but he never does. There was no thank you. At the very least, I deserved his thankfulness. I began to giggle at myself. How ludicrous I was chatting to myself all alone when he wasn't even listening attentively. He's just snoring loudly, and I can hear it as I approach the bed, but not too close because I'm sitting on the floor while I look at him.
Looking at Imon.He isn't arrogant right now as usual. He seems calm and steady like a child, sweet indeed. I liked that about him. It's been so many days since we are spending more time with each other. It hasn't been a month since I moved here with him. I was leaning on the rear table now, and two of my legs were making a rapid movement with the blankets because I'm too lazy to get them with my hands, so I used my legs to get them. As the blankets reach my hand, I grab them and swiftly cover myself, and I feel warm not because I'm covered. It's because Imon's words are jumbling in my head, inside me. They are looking for a response.
But I assume I'm overthinking it. And what was I thinking when I just advised him to stay here? It is his decision. Did I make things too obvious? I have no idea. I simply feel like my mind is about to burst if I don't stop thinking. What the heck do I mean by the word 'obvious'? I didn't mean anything other than his staying at this hotel with only me.
I put the pillow behind me, and my back is comfortable, so I move my face to the left side, in the direction of Imon, and I don't blink much since I'm watching him, and I find myself drowsy. I'm not even on the floor now,just sitting on the mattress so that I wouldn't catch a fever. I'm simply sitting here, staring at him while I gently go off to sleep. My eyes are now closed.
...........................................
The next morning was a complete disaster. When I got up, the first thing I should have done was look through Instagram or Facebook, squandering my time, but that's not what I did. Today is a brand-new day. Difference from any other day because I've come to accept change. A change that made me exceptional, a change that may lead to a quandary, later on, I suppose.
When I awoke this morning, my eyes immediately went in search of Imon. My gaze was drawn to the bed, but Imon was not there. He wasn't here, then why am I getting so worked up because he wasn't? He should have either awakened me or informed me before leaving. But he didn't, which disappointed me.
But all my disappointments are erased in a split second by the little sticky letter on the table, which must have been staked by him. Perhaps he left that note for me.
I stick close to the table and take the note, which I read. It has been mentioned in the note that he went to his house today in the morning to discuss with his mother about something, which I suspected. It had to be something catastrophic. What if he's under mental duress right now? I wish I could be there for him right now. But why should I be concerned about his family matters? I shouldn't be bothered. So I left the message on the table and walked away. Nothing, no clue, hardly anything. I just put the message there on the table by itself. That message is waiting for me if it wants me to take it, which I don't. I was upset that Imon had not notified me and had left but now when he did, so why am I acting as if I had never cared?
He is not in the room, and he is not with me. However, the surroundings of this place remind me of his presence. Everything reminds me of what he does on a daily basis, every time we're together. His clothing is on the rack, and his books are strewn around on the book shelf, with some of them laying on the ground, attempting to make it to the shelf. As I reach into the kitchen, I notice the unwashed and unclean plates, dishes, and other items that he has left behind. Those may seem unimportant to others, but they mean a lot to me. They are the hint, the indication that he was even around.
Imon has always been the quiet, not-so-introverted man who talks a lot only when he meets someone who makes an effort or is interested in listening to him. I'm curious whether anyone else has ever seen that aspect of him that I have, every time, at every moment. Especially when I recall last night's. How could he have felt expressing his emotions, crying and sobbing, feeling all at once, and it caused me to reconsider my feelings for him? It's not that he's cold or harsh; it's just that he's been through a lot. A lot of difficult moments. I wish I'd met him a long time ago. It must have been difficult for him to grow up without a father, without the affection of his mother, and without siblings or even friends.
Friends?
Yes, he has many friends, but he has never shared any of his personal information with any of them. That suggests he clearly never thought of them as friends. Not everyone has the ability to be a good friend. I'm wondering whether he told me everything because...I'm not sure. Perhaps because I've been able to be a good friend or listener without passing judgment on him.
I ended up going to the canteen, but before I could step inside, I was knocked down on the floor by a sudden attack, a sudden push on my back, my two hands balancing on the floor so I wouldn't get hurt, but my knees were injured as they fell harshly down, so I came to a halt for a while before I could even process what the fuck actually happened.As I try to stand, someone, grabs my jacket from behind and pushes me away. What I discovered was that they weren't really after me. They were looking for another person, but he ran away, so they assumed I was him. It's a little strange, but I understand because as they shoved me aside and saw my face, they realized they had the wrong person. Their expression told me they were guilty. And you know what happens when you mess with the wrong guy. I simply want to slaughter them all right now, but I can't because of the wonderful image I've crafted. I didn't want to receive a TC, so I didn't respond.
"Hey, aren't you the guy who joined this semester with us?" He says as he looks at the wounds on the elbow of my right hand.
I nod and feel my elbows, which are also quite sore.
"So your Tasin right?"
I nod again cause I don't wanna talk much with this freak. Talking with him is out of the realm. I didn't want to talk, so I simply kept nodding. I'm a little intrigued. I should ask him how he knows my name, but I won't because if I do, all I'll end up doing is cursing him because he is the reason I was so badly harmed. Now I don't want him to be the reason I yell at him, beat him, or make a scene, therefore I should ignore him. He still appears to be an aggressive, bad-guy type that generally gets into fights. He appears to be a high school bully who begins fighting when things don't go as planned.He looks at the two guy beside him and tilts his head swiftly as If he wants them to go and find the right guy and beat him up.
How pathetic?!! And those two obediently listens to him.I can't believe this.
"You must be thinking about how I know your name right?" He says with a soft grin as his cheeks are lifted upwards. Can he read my mind?! How did he find out whatever was going through my mind? I just don't want to get into a conversation with him so I start walking and buy 3 lays chips as well as apple juice for me and litchi juice for Imon. I know Imon likes litchi juice cause I saw him buying it a lot of times.
"How much?" I ask the girl on the counter.
"Tk.300 please."
I hurriedly reach into my pants pockets, but I can't locate my wallet. What the heck did I do with it? Shit. I neglected to bring it. It's in my shirt, which I gave to Imon the last time. This is a difficult situation. How should I move ahead? Where did I put it?
"I.....Actually,I forgot to bring my wallet.Will you excuse me for a moment please?"
"Here take it," That guy says as he gave the money to the girl.
"You don't have to pay for this," I reply, grabbing his hand.
"But I will. So don't be upset. Consider that a present. I already offended you, so this is my way of making apologies." He remarked with a smirk as he stared at my hands, which were gripping his own.I didn't panic in order to avoid looking weird. I merely let go of his hand slightly and he grabbed the chips and drink while he smiled at the women behind the counter, who appear to be pleased by his pleasant demeanor. I see he's pretty popular with women.
It appears that physical attractiveness is not the only factor that helps us to be infatuated with someone. He's just naturally gifted at wooing. Some things are given to us by God.
"I don't want it as a gift."
"Then what do you want."
"Nothing." I said as bitted my lower lips with anger.I'm not sure why he's still smiling even though I'm being so disrespectful to him. I believe it's because he feels bad about what he did before. I want him to go. No, I simply want to go out. My mood has been completely ruined. I knew this morning was going to be a mess. I awoke angry for no apparent reason, and now I've bumped into a person who harms me but misunderstood me for another guy, and now he's showing kindness out of nowhere, but still everywhere. I despise this. I should just leave now.
"No worries, man. How about you give me the money when we meet later?" As he hands me the chips and juice, he says.
"That is not possible."
"How come that's impossible?" He stated this as he moved closer to me, raising his right eyebrow.
"Because we'll never meet.There will be no next time."
"Oh, you shouldn't be so sure of yourself, you know? I believe we shall meet soon."
He murmured this under his breath as I exited the canteen, but I could tell his eyes were still fixed on me. I find him to be a crazy bad guy, hence I loathe such people, or perhaps I'm judging him too harshly even without knowing him more. Although it wasn't his fault that he confused me for another person. He worked hard to be kind. And this isn't the first time I've encountered similar circumstances. Normally, I would get into a conflict with anyone who messed with me, but not with him. Not because I'm afraid or making excuses, but because I don't want to disturb the serenity at the campus. Others will have a negative image of me. I'm quite concerned about what other people thinks about me.
As I approached my room, I gently opened the door and saw my plushy on the floor and all the books strewn around. Everything is a disaster. As I discover Imon sitting alone in the middle of the room with a portrait affixed tight to his chest, the cushion is also on the ground.
"What the hell? Imon,What did you do?"
He makes no attempt to respond. His eyes are closed, lost in thought. He isn't sobbing, yet his face appears as though he has been through so much suffering that even a single tear would not be enough to express it.He doesn't say anything, but I'm anxious for an answer. I want him to say something. I have a lot of questions for him regarding whatever is on my mind.I'm captivated by the photograph he's clutching. I'd want to question him about that. I wait for a bit before carefully grabbing that photo with which was on his chest and pressed by his hands. He doesn't open his soulful eyes to notice me or stop me. So I viewed the image, and it showed a young man in a suit cuddling a small kid as a woman stood by him. It must have been his father and mother and him when he was a child. He was very cute when he was a baby.I guess that's how everyone looks when they were kids.
"Is that your father?"
"Hmm," he replies with his eyes closed, and I can't believe he just replied.He appears to be in a serious mood right now. Something horrible must have happened to him while he was there.Did they have a fight or what? Whatever it was, I believe he is in desperate need of a shoulder to lean on. And I'm not sure whether I can be that person for him. I'm not sure if anyone has ever felt that way about someone else or even themselves. If they did, how did they feel? Was it delightful or heartbreaking?
Sometimes words may be deceiving at times, and a random stranger's touch can impure hearts.I'm screaming my name again in my thoughts.
Tasin is my name. I'm hesitant.
"Was It took bad? Does It hurt?" My voice came out scratchy and full of melancholy when I noticed the first bruise on his wrist. I'm not sure what occurred. Did he get into a fight? Should I question him about it? Will he hide it from me? I don't know anything about it, but I'm convinced that if I wanted to, I could get the confidence to ask him.His eyes are still closed, as they were from the start. His one foot was rubbing against the other when he heard me, and his hands were trembling. I have no idea who it was or why he was harmed, but I should ask him right now. This is your one opportunity to question him.
"Was it your stepfather?"
My calming voice reaches his ear, and he flinches slightly as I sit alongside him, my back pushed to the bed, as is his. As I examine him, I'm gazing at him. He refuses to open his eyes because he knows I can read them and study them for days, hours, minutes, and even for seconds. He understands that his lips may lie, but his eyes do not, since they tell me everything.
Everything I desire.
As a result, he does not instantaneously open his eyes. In essence, he is preparing himself to reveal the truth.My fingertips can't help but trace the cuts on his wrist as I grasp the wounded area of his hand and he moans in anguish. I just touched it, and it aches like hell. Why the heck would someone do this to him?I'm still holding his hands, refusing to let go, but he opens his eyes softly and the first thing he sees are his wounds, before turning to face me.
"Is this why you don't want to go home?"
He nods softly when he hears me, and I knew it was his stepfather.
"Why do you need to tolerate all this? Does your mother know?"
Now he doesn't looks at me.He is avoiding me.
"Dumbfuck,just say it." My voice was high-pitched but smooth, like air caressing his ear.
I sigh as he nods uncomfortably again as If he's ashamed. But it shouldn't be him who should be ashamed of it.It should be that monster who did this to him, to my Tasin. I breathe because I'm tired. I'm tired of seeing him in this manner. I used to see him go home a lot, and whenever he returned here he never said a word, he was just lost and absent-minded.
In general, he would cover himself, hide his bruises and wait for a new one, and sob alone. What was his point of view? Even if he doesn't tell me, I can see it, and I know how helpless he is. I knew it from the beginning. I didn't want to embarrass him, but things had gotten so bad that he shouldn't have put up with it any longer. Why is his stepfather so abusive? My blood pressure rises as I count the scratches on his wrist as if someone dug their nails into his soft skin.
He wants to cry, but he doesn't. He doesn't want to appear weak. He pulls his hand away from me and bites his upper lips as he looks at them again as if asking why those wounds are still there. They have no right to be there. They weren't supposed to be there, yet they are. I carefully move my hand behind his back and bring him closer to me,not keeping eye-contact so that his head first rests on my neck and then on my shoulder gently.
He seemed to be both sad and angry. I drew him closer, but he pushed me away and motioned for me to leave him alone, which I shouldn't because I know he needs me right now. He needs someone else to put his shoulder on if it isn't me. I know he needs it. I encourage him to calm down as he fights to push me aside, and at one point he does stop for a moment and glance down as his hair covers his tears, but just like before, my fingertips get so used to touching his hair and pushing them backward, but this time is different. I just keep going after pushing them back.I don't stop this time, but instead, delicately touch his chin with my thumb finger and lift his face slightly upwards so he faces me but closes his eyes to hide his tears. I don't want him to keep anything from me. I want him to know that he's safe with me.
And when I'm around him, I'm safe. When we're together, we're both protected.
"Take a look at me," I say with awe and quietness as he slowly opens his eyes, unable to gather words to form a coherent phrase, yet he wants to say something, or perhaps he has nothing left to say so all he does is staring into my eyes.Perhaps he doesn't knows what to say at this situation.
"Don't look at me." Imon says while his eyes widen as he slightly clenches his teeth but still wouldn't look at me.I desperately want to look him in the eyes. But his wish is far more important than mine. So I let go of his hand, but my right thumb softly brushes his chin, and he fixes his eyes with mine, and his eyes are filled with pain, and Imon seems so weak right now, and I don't want him to feel terrible. I want to help him feel better.
I want you to be happy.I want Imon to be happy.His sadness brings the darkest season inside me.