Carnivorous 3

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To the new people here. Please read the previous parts for this to make sense. Carnivorous-2  CARNIVOROUS

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“So, You’re finally here”.

I turned around, and that turning around only took seconds or even less than that. But I had already planned things in my mind within the microseconds. I knew I would throw my arms around his neck and he will hold me tightly around my waist and twirl me around like a fucking ice princess and in that one public display of affection all my insecurities will shed in that similar scent of his aftershave and I will be happy and whole again.

But I turned around.

And I see this WOMAN.

I almost screamed in shock. And I am not one of those people who don’t give much reaction on anything.

I was shocked for two reasons

First, I was expecting the abusive psychopath love of my life. Not a woman.

Second, this woman was easily the most disfigured human I had ever seen.

Let me paint a picture her skin was pale and she was thin and tall. She had a weird hunch back posture that made her look rather short than she was. I guess she was in an accident. Her face was old, definitely older than me she was around 35-40. She had beetle black eyes and thin lips and a really out of place nose. She had thick black hair that covered most of her face and she was wearing a long summer dress giving her an even disfigured look.

“You are just like he said you would be” She said and smiled.

I was still in shock. I could not hide my disappointment.

“I am sorry I would love to have a conversation with random people but I am waiting for someone, he will be here any minute, so if you excuse me”. I said trying to calm down my heart.

“I know you are waiting here for Tushar. He is the one who sent me here. He is a special man, isn’t he? He talks about you a lot. You live in Pune, you graduated from Bangalore, you write poems and stuff he keeps reading them infact….” I gesture for her to stop

I loose my shit in 3…..

“What do you mean he sent you here is he not coming?”

“I am sorry but no, he cannot make it”

2…..

“The situation is a little complicated you see. He is……”

1.

Boom.

“With all due respect ma’am,. But I have spent almost all of my savings to come look at his stupid face and you are telling me he is not going to come? Seriously? He is the one who sent me that fucking letter and now that I finally came, travelling for 13 hours crossing state boundaries he decides to bail on me?I really have no idea how you fit into this situation but if you really know him please go and tell that psychotic little motherfucker that he can go and fuck himself unconscious and he is lucky that I am not going to find him and shove that fucking paper clip up his asshole because I don’t want to waste more time on him” I said almost barking the part.

“That is really remarkable. He said you were going to say that and astonishingly in somewhat similar order!”. She said smiling.

I stared blankly at her face, I was punching her in the nose in my head but in reality I just stared at her.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Tell him, no one gets to break my heart twice”. I said almost breaking.

I started walking away. I must not cry. I told myself.

“Wait!”. The lady called out behind me.

I kept walking.

“If you leave now, you will never get any answers. You can go back to drinking yourself to death or you can be patient. You and I both know he means what he says, trust me.” She said.

I sighed and marched my ass back to the coffee table.

She followed me and sat down in front of me.

“Before you say anything I want to know who are you and how do you know…him”. I asked in a tiny voice looking down at my shoes. It has been a shitty morning so far.

“I am so sorry I totally forgot to introduce myself, I am Rupi”.

She held out her hand to shake mine. I took her hand and it felt boney and cold but her grip was firm.

“I met Tushar shortly after you left. We have been friends ever since”. Rupi said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Why in the world was Tushar friends with a much older woman like her? Rupi was hiding something but I had no time for it.

I had spent almost all my savings and a lot of my time to come here, I was getting impatient.

“Why is he not here? His letter specifically said that he wanted to see me. If he means what he says then where the fuck is he?”. I asked.

“He has seen you already, I clicked a picture of you the minute you walked in and emailed it to him, he is only allowed to use the internet between 9:30 and 10 am that too only permitted websites so I am sorry I had to do it without your discretion but I was running out of time”.

She showed a candid pictures of me that she had clicked from behind the counter of the coffee house on her phone.

Creepy right? It gets creepier.

My head was spinning.

“What do mean he is not ALLOWED to use the internet, he is a grown ass man”.

“You see, Tushar is not really….here”.

“What? Is Tushar DEAD?!”.

“NO! no he is just….umm, he is at this special place where he is being taken care of, you know”.

“I hope you know Rupi you are not doing either of us any good. Can. You. Be. MORE SPECIFIC?”.

“Tushar is in a rehabilitation centre for his excessive drug abuse. This really fancy rehab in the outskirts of the city, he is going through extensive therapy to overcome addiction”.

That day was a carnival of shocks.

“Tushar would rather kill him self than go to rehab. He did drugs for a purpose he is not like you and me or the rest of the world. He does not want to escape reality, he wants to find it. He would never pay a bunch of white coat hypocrites to tell him that he should live his life like they want him to tell him drugs are bad for him, he already knows that drugs are bad for him and he does them anyway, he is not trying to get a kick he is trying to understand his mind. I know him”. I said.

“Tushar has changed, five years is a long time. You don’t know Tushar almost killed himself, twice. When you are so close to death it changes your perspective on life. First he overdosed on heroin some 3 years back, he was lucky the doctors got to him in time. Then around last year new year he took a couple of drugs together, a poison cocktail he called it, he was in the hospital for 8 months. I was in the hospital with him and I honestly did not think he was going to make it. But he did. But in that moment in the hospital bed, when he was dying from the inside out and the pain in his body was almost unbearable, in that second when his insides were liquefying, and his mouth was covered in his blood vomit he whispered your name”.

I felt my skin get cold. I felt my heart defrost and one tear fell out of my pathetic eyes. One tear drop that changed everything. Empathy is a bitch. I was not built for emotions.

I quickly gathered myself.

“Can I meet him at this…place he is in?”. I asked desperately.

“Yes, but there is a catch”.

“What?”.

“You see, Tushar had to go through extensive physical and psychological therapies. Drugs are so hard wired into his system that his mind and body goes into severe withdrawal if it does not get drugs. It makes him violent, almost unpredictable. One minute he is happy another minute he is chasing his room mate with a live electrical wire. He has to be treated like you treat a child sometimes”.

“I can handle him”.

“That was not the catch. You see, during his therapy he has mentioned your name a couple of times. His report roughly indicates that you leaving him led to a chain reaction. He had difficulty forgetting you which led to depression that made him more vulnerable to addiction then he would have been otherwise”.

I remained quite.

“Tushar’s case is sensitive even the smallest of things can trigger a reaction. His therapist believes that you have had a strong emotional impact on him and even if by mistake you say something emotionally powerful to him he might get a trigger response, he can hurt you or himself, he might even go into relapse, it dangerous”.

“I can handle him”.

Rupi smiled.

“He said you would say that. You can meet him but you cant go as yourself. You see, they do a brief bio check of everyone who comes to see any of the patients, its a whole procedure because if they leave a patient with a potential trigger like you it would be like leaving a bucket of gasoline with a zippo lighter. Its dangerous. One wrong act and boom, you’re done. I will have fake Id’s arranged for you tomorrow morning. Its the only way they are ever going to let you in”.

I had used fake ID’s before to get booze. No biggie.

 

Rupi said she would have her driver drive me to the rehab. She will keep the ID and a few instructions in the seat pocket for me to find.

I thanked her for the talk and apologized for screaming earlier. She smiled and got up to take a leave. All eyes on the cafe were on her and her old slouched body and comparatively younger face. As she walked away I called out to her.

“Rupi!”.

She turned back.

I walked to her so I did not have to scream. I did not want people to overhear our conversation.

“If Tushar was really in rehab why didn’t he say so in the letter? Why lie?” I asked.

“Because he wanted to test you. If he would have told you he is sick you would have come because you felt bad for him, not because you had feelings for him”.

That bastard.

“I almost forgot to tell you. Since your stay in Bangalore is going to be longer than you anticipated I have paid for your room in your hotel in advance”.

“Thanks but, How did you know what hotel I am staying at?”. I asked.

“Tushar said you were going to ask that”. she said grinning. And walked away awkwardly. Leaving me there with my cold disgusting coffee.

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When I reached my hotel my room had been upgraded to deluxe was paid for at least two weeks with complimentary food and alcohol.

The room had a king size bed and a 45 inch TV with a minibar (thank the lord). The bathroom was as big as the bedroom in my apartment in Pune. The shower had 14 different shower settings. Ever heard of that before?

Who ever Rupi was one thing about her was clear, she was extremely wealthy, no one wastes so much money on friends of friend. No one is that generous. There had to be a catch but I knew the answers will come from the man of the hour himself.

Tushar.

What is in your head?

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Next morning Rupi sent an aqua blue Honda for me to pick me up at my hotel. The driver opened the gate for me and introduced himself. He was a young guy I could not give less shits about him.

The car started off on the road in that merciless Bangalore traffic.

The driver turned back and handed me an envelope.

He told me madam had sent me that.

The envelope had a driving license with my picture on it but it had a different name.

“Osheen Pathak”. I read out loud.

That was the stupidest fucking name I had ever heard. Why couldn’t Rupi come up witch a better sounding cover name.

Ring Ring.

It was my cellphone.

“Hello?”.

“On your way right?”.

It was Rupi.
“How did you get my….anyway what kind of name is Osheen Pathak?”.

“Hahaha. It was completely random. Now I want you to remember than Tushar is in a very delicate stage, you are still a trigger, when you go there you must not say anything that is emotionally stimulating, just try to be neutral, take lead of the conversation, make him laugh, don’t say anything harsh or overtly romantic”.

“Roger that”.

“Good. All the best. I’ll get in touch with you soon. Bye bye”.

“Thanks. Bye”.

I disconnected the call and took a huge gulp from my vodka flask.

Soon the buildings and the thick warm air got replaced by trees and a cool breeze.

I knew I was getting closer.

We drove around for 30 minutes when I saw this enormous modernist building. It looked like an IT workshop.

The guard stopped the car at the entrance, that meant I was on my own.

I walked into the huge reception with enormous windows and cheerful paintings.

The receptionist was a pretty dark skinned woman.

“Hello how may I help you?”.

“Umm. Hi. I am here to see Tushar Keshri.”

“And you are…..?”.

“Osheen Pathak”.

“Right. Can I have your ID?”

I handed my fake Id over to her, she typed away something on the computer and printed out a copy of it for herself before returning it to me.

“Perfect. You may take a seat, someone will escort you to Mr Keshri shortly”.

The building was nothing like you would imagine a rehab to be. It was warm and lively. Tushar must have hated it here.

A few minutes later a short guy in a red polo shirt came to escort me.

“So you are here to see Mr Keshri huh? He almost never meets most of his visitors he is a very private man”. He said as we were walking through the corridors.

“I know”. I said smiling.

“How do you know him Miss Pathak if I may ask”.

“He is a really old friend”.

“Oh, nice. Well, there will be a guard in your room in case of emergency, the rules are pretty simple. No screaming, no shouting, no sudden movements and no touching.”

“Right”.

“I am going to have to ask you to take off your shoes, your belt and your watch”.

“Are you serious?”.

“I am sorry its the standard protocol, also I will need your cellphone you cant take any electrical devices in there with you”.

I sighed and handed him all the stuff I had, then he had a female guard frisk me thoroughly behind the curtains.

“Clear?”. The red polo shirt guy asked.

The female guard nodded her head.

“You may go in Miss Pathak”.

“Sir, I was wondering about the no touching rule, cant I just give him a hug, we are meeting after a long time, he needs human warmth after all that he has been through”.

The red shirt guy sighed.

“Ok you are allowed one hug, but make it quick and umm….nothing sensual”.

“Roger that”.

He took me to a closed wooden door.

“He will be here in a moment. Good luck Miss Pathak”.

The fact that every one kept saying that made me nervous.

“Thanks”.

I opened the door, the room looked like a part of the house from a paint commercial. Bright and happy. I cant really blame Tushar for being violent in a place like this, so many colours would drive me off the edge too.

There was a guard, sitting in the distant corner of the room with all his power belt equipment hanging from his hip. There was a table in the middle with chairs on either sides so we both could face each other while we spoke.

My palms were sweaty from anticipation. I had been gone for so long but now I was finally here for him. He had suffered enough. It was all going to be okay.

I heard the door creaked and he walked in, it was him, unmistakably him. Tall and lanky. My heart was about to break out of my chest. I had not felt so happy, so relief, so god damned relaxed in ages. It was like I had a thorn pricked in my skin and someone finally, after years of agony, removed it.

He had grown a beard and cut his hair small but he looked so different but he looked so good.

I then looked him in the eyes to realize he had frozen down in his spot.

“You came”. He said in a shaky voice.

“You called me” I said in an even shakier voice.

Don’t cry. I commanded myself.

He took a few long steps and scooped me in his arms and twirled me around like a fucking ice princess, he did not smell like his usual aftershave because he had stopped shaving apparently but it was still him, he had wrapped his arms tightly around me and in that moment I knew I was almost complete.

“Oh god, you cant imagine what I went through to find you”. he said still holding me.

“I know, I am so sorry, I am here now”.

“I know. I know”. He said and kissed my shoulder.

I wanted that moment to last forever. And it did. Not the way I hoped it would.

“But you know nothing.” he whispered in my ear.

It was strange, I try to break the hug and look at him but he at tightened his grip on me.

“You don’t know that as we embrace in affection my friends are over to that hotel room where you stay”.

I tried to push him. The guard looked up.

“If you make him suspicious I am telling them you came here with a fake ID of a missing woman, Identity theft is a long time in prison sugar. Act wisely”.

Didn’t see that coming right?

“You asshole”.

“You are not in the position to threaten, when I let you go, you are going to stay calm, or you have no idea what I am going to do to you.”