#MaybeAllMen

 

 

"Do you remember the year we sang 'Coward of the County'?" Ajay asked.

"Oh yes, 8th standard Youth Festival. Why?" Jimmy replied.

"One of my patients reminded me of that," Ajay said.

Ajay is a psychologist. He is not the type that divulges patients' stories, even under the cover of anonymity. He must have grabbed our attention because of that. And, not because we (Ajay, Jimmy, Shekhar and I) had run out of topics to discuss after the first peg. We would have found something to talk about, eventually. After all, we were best friends. Various pairs at various times, we had been best friends to each other. Not in the last twenty years. Long back. But we still meet.

"This chap talked about an incident that's haunted him all his life," Ajay said. "He too could have been in the 8th standard, quite young. He went abroad that summer holidays, Singapore. He went to the famous Sentosa island by cable car. That wasn't long after the cable car tragedy there. Do you remember reading about that in the Reader's Digest?"

Ajay sipped his drink, allowing the rhetorical question to bounce around in our empty insides. "Four older girls took him for that outing. A family friend's daughter and her three friends. Nice friendly girls." He paused again.

“Lucky bastard,” Jimmy muttered.

"They were playing on a beach, in the water,” Ajay continued. “He in his shorts. The girls in T-shirts and shorts. The beach was surprisingly empty. Just them. And three men in their twenties or early thirties, one with a pot belly, the usual uncouth lot. The men too entered the water, stood close to the younger group. The men first stared and sniggered. Then came the obnoxious comments. In Malayalam. My chap and his family friend could understand. The other girls, Tamilians, too got the gist. One of the girls opened her mouth to protest or give back but the others warned her not to. They didn't stay in the water for long."

"They moved from the beach to a place where they could change and rest. There, the oldest girl told the boy, "In such times, you should be more than a good boy." He smiled and nodded. He had liked it when the girls had earlier said that he looked mature for his age. He tried to be mature and remained silent."

"That vacation, and in the days and months...the years that followed, that haunted him," Ajay said.

"Pussy should think at least," Jimmy said. "I would have gutted those men."

"Come on, he would have made the situation worse," Shekhar said. "He would have put those girls at more risk. That type of men would have retaliated, badly."

"Not in Singapore, here maybe, not there," I said. "I am quite sure this boy must have thought what the men thought. Wet T-shirt and all that. Hence, the guilt-trip later."

"So, what happened to him?" Shekhar asked.

"Let me call him Bejoy,” Ajay said. “Bejoy remained the quiet calm goody-goody boy, externally. But there were slow changes.”

Ajay paused again and looked at each one of us before continuing.

"His best friend then was a guy known for his switchblade. Do you remember the year the Krishnan brothers bashed up a guy?"

"Which Krishnan brothers?" Shekhar asked.

"Those gusti (wrestling) brothers, I remember them," I said. "Some idiot talked to their sister. What an idiot! Which guy will talk to a girl with such brothers? Anyway, he got it...was in a hospital for a month."

"What's that got to do with your B Joy?" Jimmy snarled. He seemed riled up for no reason.

"Bejoy’s best friend used the switchblade on a guy…for the same reason…the guy talked to his sister," Ajay said. "Just threatened, maybe nicked the guy a little, Chinatown Roman Polanski style. Our man and his switchblade got kicked out of school for that. But Bejoy and him remained best friends. Till…"

"Till the day that best friend phoned Bejoy’s girlfriend, anonymously of course, and talked about her breasts and bra size.”

I laughed. “That used to be a craze then.”

Ajay ignored me. “Funny part is that Bejoy was standing outside the public phone booth then. He didn't know it was his girlfriend at the other end.”

I hooted with laughter.

"Did he get to know?" Shekhar asked.

“Yes, when his girlfriend mentioned the call. That was the end of his friendship with switchblade. That was the end of his friendship with the girl too. He told her what had happened.”

“What an idiot,” I said.

“He apologized. She kicked him out,” Ajay said.

“Serves him right,” Jimmy muttered. “For sneaking on his best buddy.”

“Is that so?” Ajay asked.

There seemed to be some tension between those two. Ajay poured another peg for himself.

“His next best friend was a different sort altogether, a goody-goody chap like him who was a heartthrob with the girls. A good looker, a gentleman, a singer too,” Ajay said. “Bejoy and this best friend were a pair like Cyrano de Bergerac and Christian.”

Shekhar poured a double and downed it in one go.

“Oye, easy man,” I said.

“My chap Cyrano has a cousin. And, our Christian was crazy about her,” Ajay said. “Bejoy knew what his cousin liked, and he wrote a poem for her about her, just like Cyrano. His best friend used that poem, as his own, to capture her affection.”

“That’s twisted…” I remarked. “Didn’t we have a rule: no going after sisters or relatives of friends?”

“Even womanizers have ethics,” Jimmy growled. He had been silent for a while.

“She was a few years older, already in college,” Ajay continued. “One summer break, she returned from the college hostel a bit changed. No more the traditional girl in long skirt, blouse, underskirt, petticoat, what not. She had frizzed her hair, I think that’s what it’s called, wore modern clothes. The day she met our Christian, she was wearing a dress exposing ample cleavage. Our gentleman Christian kept the meeting brief. He later told his Cyrano she looked “sluttish”.”

“But she used to look so good before…” Shekhar said.

“Well, that was the end of that friendship,” Ajay interrupted. “Bejoy got an earful from his cousin sister.”

“What? Did he tell her that his best friend described her as a slut?” I exclaimed.

“Of course,” Ajay replied.

 “He is a sucker for punishment,” I said.

“Oh yes, he is,” Ajay said. “Wait till you hear about his next best friend who turned out to be the best. Or worst.”

Ajay looked punch drunk. No pun intended. Slouching, face twisted, mangled.

“Do you remember Professor Groper in school?” Ajay asked.

Jimmy laughed. “Haha…two or three years our senior, right? What was his name…GK or PK…?”

“BK…Balakrishnan,” Ajay said.

“We were nothing compared to that creep,” Jimmy seemed to have recovered from his slump. “That guy used to hold classes in the school bus. Groping 101. How to stand near a girl, how to jack-y…that guy was a piece! I still remember his three-touch rule. Touch a female once, she might move away. Touch her again, she might still move away. Touch her a third time, the good ones will come near and ask for more. I wonder how many times he got into trouble before getting that good one. Worth it, he used to say. What’s Prof. BK got to do with your chap?”

“His new best friend forever turned out to be this BK’s best student,” Ajay said. “Even Bejoy joined in…at concerts, college auditorium, any public gathering, those two and their groping hands, I wonder what they got out of it,” Ajay grimaced. “Great fun…till the best friend groped Bejoy’s wife…on their wedding day. What could Bejoy do? They were after all comrades-in-arms.”

“Bloody hell!” Jimmy hooted with laughter.

I stared at Ajay. Ajay stared back. I was of course the last to figure out Ajay’s tale. Probably because of the drinks.

“Bejoy…always the good boy who does nothing, just like in Sentosa many years before…he did not do anything,” Ajay said. “Yes, he got more than he deserved with such best friends. One nightmare has haunted him all these years. Bejoy, our Cyrano, captured the nightmare with these lines:

 

My best friends and I,

4 matchstick men on a beach,

Together separate and alone.

Protector, abuser,

Prey, predator,

Those are the names we hear.

A black shroud we see,

Racing fast towards us,

Swallowing the sun and us.

 

Do you know what Bejoy’s best friend forever did recently?” Ajay asked.

“Groped Bejoy’s wife again?” Jimmy grinned.

“No, the best friend went for Bejoy’s twelve-year-old daughter,” Ajay said.

“The bastard should be castrated?” Jimmy snarled.

“Geez…” Shekhar said.

“What do you say?” Ajay looked at me and asked. “Should you be castrated?”

 

 #MaybeAllMen

#fiction