Panty

Panty

PANTY 9

SAHANA, OR SHAMIM 123

‘Ask me no more.’

‘But I wanted to know whose lips those were in the darkness.’

‘Those lips in the darkness belonged to the kiss.’

‘But he didn’t kiss me.’

‘He didn’t?’

‘No, he raced away towards deserted Park Street.’

‘But I tasted blood on my tongue.’

‘Not blood, it was my favourite rum-ball.’

‘Not my favourite taste – I always loved the first drops of water drawn from a freshly dug well.’

‘But that water was drawn on a January night, when I was deep in sleep, dreaming. The dream ended after fourteen years.’

‘Where did that dream of mine end?’

‘Beside an earthen pot, on the pavement in front of a teashop. The pot lay there among the broken sherds of many others, lonely. In that spot so dense with rhododendrons it was almost a wood. Although each of the trees had a car parked beneath it.’

‘It was raining when the dream ended. So the dream turned into mud. Melting, it flowed to the earthen pot. There was a slatted drain cover close by. A feeble stream of rainwater washed the dream down the drain.’

‘That stream came from the city. It contained thousands of newspaper clippings, innumerable stories and novels, a multitude of plays and travelogues. And each of the travelogues ended up in the drain. Who knows whether that isn’t where the journey actually begins.’

‘I was about to pass by, ignoring this stream. But, at that precise moment, a woman about my age leapt from the roof of a building. She writhed briefly after the impact, then died. A man came running down the stairs. Screaming, “What have you done, what have you done, didn’t you even think of the child?” the man flung himself on the woman.’

‘At once I made the death my own. “This is my death,” I said. I seemed to have rid myself of a weight I had borne some seven or eight months, and the foot I set down on the pavement felt completely new.’

29

I entered the apartment at eleven at night, unlocking three padlocks in succession. The flat took up the entire first floor of a tall apartment building. I paused for a few moments after entering, trying to make out my surroundings in the light coming in from the passage outside. I found the switchboard near my left hand. Stepping forward, I turned on all the switches. One after the other. And not a single light came on. But I could tell that a fan had started whirring overhead. Once my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I found myself standing at one end of a hall. The main road below me had begun to quieten down. The light from the street lamps filtered into the dark hall through large windows, creating an unfocused chiaroscuro that came to my aid. Advancing in this hazy glow, I realised that there were doors running down both sides of the hall. On a whim I turned towards an open door on the left.