CHAPTER 29 - Bonfire of the Vanities

I had often wondered what Una Artoran would have said – in words and actions – about Savitha Tandavi’s hitting-on-all-cylinders verbal match with her in relation to her continuing interest in Arinvan. I, Arinvan Maliek, have never known that.

Certain psychic factors on Savitha’s person were palpable enough for anyone to make out that her acid ego was running riot day after day. I had noticed that in her, unfortunately. Una had been blind enough to trust in what Savitha was saying to her that day on the phone; post which Una just disappeared without, I am certain of this, thinking it over properly and logically if you will. Obviously, if there was someone who she lovingly called “Arin” was made to get out of her way or left out of her troubles, then it was an impecunious me, Arinvan, who, during those days of passionate longing and emotions running high, he thought Una was all he had.

I had mistaken Una’s love to be the end of all things; I had foolishly thought that even Savitha’s habitual ranting would peter out once Una put her foot down and really had her writ boldly written for Savitha to take the cue and back off. But it didn’t work out that way. Una chose to throw out the baby with the bathwater!

Una Artoran was lost and never found again. By the time I thought I could get to Una and explicate my side of the story and she hers, she had already preferred to move away and never looked back since; not even once for old times’ sake. I had likewise wondered, ineluctably, what were Monami Roy’s feelings about Savitha’s Boa Constrictor-like hold on Una, the svelte figure of my dreams? And what couldn’t she really articulate – if it all she could bring herself to some botheration – on the impasse?

Hard to Believe

I was unfamiliar with that side of Una who simply said nothing and had just disappeared without a trace. No farewell mail, no goodbyes, not even a harmless phone call. Even those sweet rendezvous over coffee didn’t mean anything to Una? I can’t believe it didn’t. Just can’t. Hard to…no impossible to believe. That was not my Una. Maybe she wasn’t the same person anymore that I had known all along. She’s indeed Savitha Tandavi’s naive brainwashed Una, certainly not for Arinvan to lay claim on. The Una that I felt I knew will always be mine all the same; bad Savithas of the world will be vanquished, inevitably.

Afterward, when I realized that she wouldn’t make a telephone call to talk to me, I had resolved why not write to her; at least my email will reach her inbox and she most certainly would open it and read it. I thought perhaps it was perfectly alright for her to stay away for a little while to think this through. But in light of Savitha’s vice-like grip on her, I could tell she would never be able to come round and talk to me or let me talk to her. Forget about bringing herself to the task of writing an email to me, she didn’t even say goodbye. I think it may have burdened her heart with a tricky task such as saying good-bye. She must have thought: how does one say it to the one I’d been in love with? But she thought she may as well deny me the comfort of her true feelings when she knew that things are not going to work out between us. Not even to get irate with me; if at all she’d fancy that. I was left in the lurch. Fend for yourself, Arinvan. Weeping all those foolish tears for my love to come back to me may not mean anything to the world, but not to Una herself? Hard to believe. What was wrong with her...? (Because, apart from one or two folks, no one knew about our relationship, no one.) It beats me.

Even thinking of it is sacrilegious to the beautiful, mesmeric feeling I have of her.

A friend in need? Not really

Monami Roy didn’t bother to speak with Arinvan either; perhaps, getting to be an Agony Aunt is not her style. Just not her thing I suppose. The Fish Sketch was so hunky-dory, but ask her to... oh forget it! Her personal laws consist of the vignettes such as:

Not my share of trouble so why bother.
When Trouble is well-neigh put as much distance as possible between you and Trouble!
Look the other way but be generally nice!
Trouble is not my cup of noodles! Go get Aunt Maggi!
Me? Agony Aunt? Only in your dreams, baby!
Gotcha! Now cut to the chase!
Gosh! I was so pissed off!

She too had gone the Una way – lock, stock, and barrel.

Miss Roy was always poised to stay away from anything that comes near to mentioning, “Houston, we’ve got a problem!” She petered out from the scene sooner than you could blink! Outstanding for her, I guess! Placing a quick tap on the proverbial Esc key is her style. Where are all those incredible character traits and the easy-going zeal and enthusiasm that most girls naturally tend to possess and have the natural benefit of? Have they washed their hands off ‘em? All my keen familiarity with those things had gone bust. I suppose it was too early too soon to offer my allegiance to these younger ‘uns and I know I burnt my fingers in the bonfire of their vanities!

I felt very unfortunate that day when I happened to eavesdrop on what Savitha was saying about me to Una on the phone. Maybe I am making a huge issue out of this. But so be it. I believe in my instincts than someone like Savitha’s indirect way of making known to me her strong disapproval of my love for Una.

Sitting ram-rod straight with the white-coloured receiver to her right ear, she said to Una, “Kya kar rahi hai Una tu!”

I instantly smouldered within when I overheard that offending sentence blown into the telephone receiver; the import of its meaning hitting me hard. I sat on the side-desk for a couple of minutes and tried to figure out just what her problem was! Why should I put up with her evident revolt against me? How to handle this mess she was so hell-bent on creating for Una and me? I simply could not decipher the way out of this morass. It was most offending when she turned around before keeping (or throwing?) the receiver into its place and did not care to say anything when she caught sight of me sitting there on the desk behind her. A benefit of the doubt: She couldn’t see me that I had already arrived for my post-noon stretch! I figured this much, eventually: The woman’s back-biting (against me) has just taken place right in front of my eyes (and ears) and is going full blast. Never have I come across such a noxious, unfriendly, back-biting snake, a snitch, who coiled around Una, like a vicious trap in my life. Now I know why people say: “Life is a bitch!”

I had thought to yank the phone out of her wretched hands and bang the rattling telephone, not on her head, no, that would be unfortunate, but to thrash some human sense into her! And in fact, I couldn't bring myself to do that not even on this bratty serpentine female; I wanted to speak to Una right then and tell her not to believe in any of Savitha’s bakwaas that she was tossing up!

It was such an absurd thing on the part of Savitha to say to one’s own supposedly ‘best’ buddy against someone you don’t even know properly lest form an informed opinion of him. That was Savitha Tandavi for you – A Vampire of our Times. Why would Savitha become such a lunatic twerp to believe in some hearsay that was, what, going around in our 5th-floor office? What kind of ocular eyes does Savitha have in the frontal sockets of her head that are not hard-wired to her brain? A lot of things ‘go around in an office setting’ damn you!; you don’t go around and make a Holy Bible out of it and live with that forever to ruin people's lives!

Goodness Una, love, Savitha has gone mad, she’d lost her sanity, she lost her rational soundness, and her head has got loaded with trashy stories so pulpy that whatever little brain was lying about there has long been ejected out! You don’t believe one word of hers, love!

I desired to tell Una this but never got a chance to utter even a single word.

(To be continued...)

By Arindam Moulick

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. All incidences, places, and characters portrayed in the story are fictional and entirely imaginary. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. No similarity to any person either living or dead is intended or should be inferred.