Chapter 11
Fil was impatient. He thought he had waited enough to know about Sam's whereabouts —to hell with everyone here. Why does it matter if he wants to help or not? Close bonds don't form in a matter of days. And in three days, he would fly out of India. A few months later, what seemed like a complex problem now would seem like a distant memory from a different lifetime —he knew all this, yet he yearned to meet Sam one last time.
Fil was in the middle of an interview when his phone rang twice and stopped before he could reach for it. Then again, it rang an hour later, this time he was alert to pick it up.
"Where are you?" Lara's voice resonated from the other end in urgency.
"In the middle of the interview here in Goa. Why?"
"I thought the time was up, and you went back to London," she heaved.
"Two more days to go. Why do you ask?"
"I don't know if Sam wants to meet you, but one'll be there at the same beach you met before."
"When?"
"That I don't know. Sam could even be there now. So hurry up before you miss one."
"Ok, I'll go right away and Lara?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"Please don't mention. I hope one listens to you and goes to London. I just want Sam to be happy."
"I'll try my level best."
"Ok Good luck and take care," and she hung up.
Filip cut short the interview and rushed to take an auto-rickshaw to Sao Jacinto Island.
Needless to say, it was a very hot afternoon. Filip settled himself in for the long ride. He peeled his sweaty back away from the seat, and with his forearms on his knees and head hanging, he stared at the dusty black of his shoes. The sun gathered its hard heat against his shoulder and neck, but there was nowhere to escape from it. Eventually, he made it, he paid the fare and trudged through the shimmering sands to reach the dock and instead of walking up, Filip reached down and walked across the water-soaked sand that settled into soft, level ground. It was cool here and a welcome retreat from the sun.
Just then, he heard careful footsteps reach him. If only he knew he would meet Sam, he would have dressed a bit better. The only thing he could think of since he had seen Sam's smile was, 'oh shit!'
Yet, he knew Sam wouldn't mind —appearance was least of their concern. After the initial greetings, both sat under the dock in tense silence. Filip prepared a hell of a lot to things to talk about, but he was least prepared on where to begin.
"Lara said you wanted to talk to me. What's it about?"
"I know about you. I rather guessed it, and I did ask you about it in a way. But I'm not here to talk about it. I'm trying to make sense of why you are still here when you have means to leave and start afresh."
"Straight to the point, I see. What should I say? People are fools, you know. They all want to stay close to home. I'm the same. No matter what I want to address myself, I'm still human. Vasco is home. Even if I leave, I might eventually circle back here."
Filip knew that human beings were stupid, they always come back home, even when they know they shouldn't as if tugged by an inescapable string. Didn't he get back to his mother when his father passed away? Staying with Mari was only a cover-up, he couldn't just leave their single-bedroom apartment behind. He had many fond memories there.
"But what if your home is not what it's supposed to be? Why would you hide when you live here and this is your safe zone? Why do you disappear during the festive season?"
"There are certain inconveniences but that's part of life."
"These are not just inconveniences, Sam. Don't you understand? They are shackles holding you behind tying you to the ground. Don't you ever want to be free?"
"Of course I do. Now, what do you suppose I should do then?"
"Come with me to London. A change of scene would make a world of difference. You might realize your true potential. "
"Why are you so interested in me?"
"Sam, I only know you are a great artist, and somehow you are struggling here with a lack of opportunities. I wouldn't say you won't find any hurdles in a new environment, but you'll have me. And in due course, I hope you'll discover yourself."
"Who are you to me, Fil?"
"I can be anyone you want Sam. But for now, I'll be your friend if you agree to that. Or we could make it a very cold and professional working relationship, perhaps an investor. An investor in your talent. When you want I'll invest some money but in a very small way. But my big investment will be faith in the artist in you."
"But why me?"
"On a very hot Goan afternoon, after this person was swindled a hefty amount for a pathetic room. All he did was walk into the dinghy space to lay his eyes on a spectacular visual that blew his senses of. He couldn't take his eyes away from the painting and day in and day out, he searched for the artist. Though he brought newspaper rolls to cover up the painting, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Sam, your talent is too precious to be buried here. All I'm asking you is to give yourself a chance to feel, to paint and to live. London is just an option because I know the place. It is completely up to you to live there or come back or explore other places. It is an open solution."
Sam hung one's head low, closed the eyes for a moment, and then said, "I'm not only an artist but a very troubled person. There are days when I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to speak to anyone. When the entire world seems like a fire pit with corpses everywhere. A jungle of ash, burning embers where a promise of death feels much safer than taking one more breath. I then tell myself that if it gets too bad, I'll kill myself. I have the pills ready. Then, I think about the girls at Apsara. I think about Sheela and her daughter. I count my blessings. Why am I even complaining? Why does it matter that I don't want to be a man when many have no food to survive another day? Then I climb out of bed and go through the day. It is not that bad. Then through another day. The pain becomes a dull throbbing, yet it is still with me. I have lived with it."
There was danger always at the moment when someone revealed one's weakness. Too heavy a trace of sympathy, one would lose them as they wound up around their exposed pain, concealing all the vital detail. Sam needed honesty now —candour.
Filip chose his next words with care and said in a low voice, "I can say I understand and give eloquent advice from the psychology elective I had in journalism. I don't want to pretend. I have no iota of understanding in this. I'll try to understand. But I can assure you, you need not hide, or be alone during celebrations or festivals or afraid that someone would recognize you. It could be the opportunity to think about yourself for once. What you truly need."
At this, Sam was faintly startled, surprised even, Sam took time but eventually "Yes," she said, "I'll come to London, may not be with you but in a few days. Will you promise to be there?"
It was Filip's turn to be startled but he quite firmly said, "Yes, I'll be there, I promise."
With this promise, Filip stood up and pulled Sam into a hug who hugged him back, rested the head on his shoulder and shuddered a little. He tightened his hold to assure Sam he was there for one.
__________________________________THE END_____________________________________
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