Chapter 26
The price of my actions
ADITYA
Destroyed us. Destroyed us. Destroyed us.
The words echo in a loop inside my throbbing head as I walk away from Jimmy's cabin, bearing the coffin of my shredded soul.
Alone. I feel numb, defeated. The draught of the freezing December wind rattles my bones.
Which wounds hurt more, and which ones will never heal: losing Jimmy's trust or his love?
“Bawaari Poonch, chup reh. Marwayega ke.”
Two men in black puffer jackets in their twenties argue as they walk down the trail from the resort, new year revellers or tourists.
I ignore them and trudge towards the resort's gate.
However, the Haryanavi slur about a stupid buffalo tail and the taller one admonishing the other to shut his mouth does not sit well with me.
A slow wrenching ache takes root inside my chest. Why would tourists be on this path? The unease turns to dread as a loud crack of breaking furniture comes from the direction of Jimmy's cottage. I turn back to investigate. As I get closer, the exchange of Haryanvi curse words forces me to rush.
Before I reach Jimmy's cottage, the stench of kerosene hits my nose.
Shit. The pungent odour becomes stronger with each step.
I break into a run, stumbling and swinging on tree trunks to navigate the tree-lined path.
When I take the final bend, I see the two men grappling with Jimmy, trying to push him inside the cottage.
“What the hell are you doing?” My shout breaks the three.
“Run! Addy, run!” Jimmy's panicked voice echoes in the hills. I pay no heed to his warning. My eyes are stuck on the blood streaming down from his head.
“Catch him. He must be his friend.” The taller guy directs his fellow assailant. The man lets go of his hold on Jimmy, but Jimmy lunges at him before the black jacket moves towards me. The three wrestle one another.
I survey the area to find something to use as a weapon. A fallen, thick tree branch catches my eye. I pick up the log, rush to the fighting men, and swing the wood at the black jacket who is now rushing toward me. The branch slams into his neck. The man stumbles, howling, and clutching his face.
The second man pushes Jimmy off, but Jimmy wrestles him to the ground.
The first man is bent, writhing in pain. I hit him again — this time on his back. He collapses, clutching his waist, hands soaked in blood.
The crack of a bone snapping draws my attention to the second man. He stumbles and tries to run, but Jimmy grabs his legs and tackles him to the ground. Before Jimmy can disable him, the man pulls something out of his pocket. A glint of black metal catches my eye.
“No!” My scream echoes through the valley, sending the birds screeching in the sky. I watch in horror as Jimmy covers the man's hand with his body. A loud bang ensues. My feet are frozen, and no sound comes out of my open mouth, but my whole body shakes with horror.
The man shoves Jimmy's limp body aside and comes after me.
A head-butt to my chest sends me crashing to the ground.
Two firm hands press my throat, and a leg chokes the wind out of my chest. Croaking and gasping, I scrape my fingers on the ground but can't get a grip.
Only grass, mud, and gravel come up in my fingers.
I pull a handful in my fists and rub them into the man's face, not relenting on my force till his hands loosen around my throat.
My attacker screams and groans, rubbing the grit out of his eyes. This is my chance. I hit him in the groin with my knee. He crumbles to the ground, clutching his balls.
Throat dry and hurting, I gasp to fill my lungs and look for the log I dropped, but the broken tree trunk is too far away.
My frantic search lands on a boulder, sitting a few feet to my left.
God, I hope those hours in the gym work.
I grab and raise the stone overhead, flinging it with all my might at the black jacket.
The man scrambles backwards on the ground, clawing at the grass.
He is not able to go far...the boulder hits his hand.
He cries out, clutching his broken fingers.
The man stumbles to stand and scampers off.
“Addy. Ad-addy”, Jimmy's ragged calls draw my attention back. I crawl to him as he lies face down on the ground. When I turn him over, my hands are covered in blood. The soil is a deep red.
“Help! Someone, please help!” I scream my lungs off. “Please save my Jimmy.” The damp, grey skies open, pouring the cold vitriol of the world on us.
“Jimmy, speak to me.” Clutching his t-shirt, I plant kisses on his face. “I love you, Jimmy. Don't leave me.”
But Jimmy does not respond. Sobbing, I bury my face on his chest.
“Please, oh God, please save my Jimmy. Take everything I have, all my possessions. I will sell my soul to you, but please help me save him.”
***
“You should rest.” Sahil squeezes my shoulder and sits beside me outside the intensive care floor.
The last few hours have gone by in a daze.
After an endless argument over next of kin, the doctors put Jimmy on a ventilator and rushed him to the ICU.
The head CT scan showed no internal bleeding, a welcome relief, but the gunshot went through the stomach.
By the time we managed to bring Jimmy to the hospital, he had lost a lot of blood.
“Aditya, you are injured.” Sahil pleads.
“They are only scratches and bruises.” I rub the nail marks and the swelling. The nurse applied an antiseptic ointment, but my neck still burns. “I won't leave Jimmy. Not till he wakes up.” The relentless tears continue.
Sahil answered my call. He was at the resort’s gym and helped me carry Jimmy to the waiting car with a few other staff.
We drove like fanatics to the nearest hospital.
By the time we reached the emergency, Sudhanshu and Kiron had arrived.
They are speaking to the police while we wait outside the intensive care ward.
“Are you Mr Hirani?” A doctor comes out of the ICU. I hurry to answer him.
“I gather there is no immediate next of kin.” The doctor questions Sahil and me. We both bite our lips. We had a hard time convincing the staff here to allow us near Jimmy.
“Yes, sir. But we are the closest Jimmy has to his family.” I hope my greying hair reduces the doctor's concerns.
“But can you make decisions as a legal guardian?”
Sahil and I have no answer for this, so I tell the doctor the truth. “Doctor, please help us. We will give anything in writing to get things moving?”
The doctor hesitates, studying our faces. “Let me speak to the superintendent.” He returns to his station in intensive care.
“Sahil, what are we going to do?”
Sahil dials Sudhanshu and informs him of the situation. “Sudhanshu is on his way. He has already spoken to the superintendent.”
I sigh in relief. This is the harsh reality of queer life; we have no rights if our families abandon us.
“Okay, I have spoken to my seniors. This is a blood requisition form.” The doctor emerges from the swinging ICU door and hands me a paper.
“We need two units on an urgent basis. After the surgery, we will need two more. Please go to the blood bank on the ground floor and donate blood. If the blood does not match, they will issue a matching bag available.” The doctor explains and leaves.
“I will give one unit.” Sahil takes the form from me. “But what will we do about the rest?” He chews his lower lip, his forehead furrowed in concern.
“What is the problem?” I question him.
“Aditya, the national guidelines. They won't allow you, Sudhanshu, or Kiron to donate.”
“What guidelines? I have donated blood at least once a year since my college days. No one has ever stopped me.”
“Something to do with AIDS. The blood donation guidelines restrict any trans and gay persons from donating blood.” Sahil rubs his forehead as he reads the form.
His words are a punch to the stomach. “In this age? Anyone can have HIV. And don't they test the blood first? Jimmy and I tested clean a month back. I have my reports.”
Sahil's worried eyes give me the answer.
“One unit I will donate. For the rest, let me speak to a few staff members and parents from my school. Ask Mr Bhatia and see if any resort staff will come forward.” I reassure Sahil, but a tiny doubt is planted in my mind.
What if we are not able to find donors? Sahil pushes off and scampers down the stairs.
I take out my phone and type a message on WhatsApp, sending the urgent request to all my Almora staff.
“Aditya, Kumar sir wants one last word with you before he leaves.” The police station house officer accompanies Sudhanshu. He and Brian pulled a few strings to ensure the police took the attack on Jimmy as a priority.
“Did you find the other attacker?” I had provided the details to the sub-inspector an hour ago.
“No. But we traced the kerosene can and the gun the assailant used. We are still searching for the second attacker.”
The mention of kerosene makes me shiver. What if I had not reached on time?
“Look-out notices have been issued to all nearby police stations and check posts. We found the ID of the man with head injuries at the resort. Do you know a Yoginder Narwal?” The officer shows me a copy of the driving license.
My remaining strength drains from me as I read the address listed on the license. I turn to Sudhanshu; his forehead is also furrowed. “I never met either of the two men, but Jimmy is from Hissar, and the surname is the same.”
“Hmm, we have contacted Hissar police. They are on their way to the address. I will keep you posted. One final thing, please don't leave Almora without informing us.” The officer shakes hands with Sudhanshu and departs.
The information shared by the officer weighs on me. My legs give way, and I slump on the nearest wall.
“What have I done?” Did my foolishness thrust Jimmy on the front pages, putting a mark on his head for his relatives to find him? “But why will they want to kill him?”
Sudhanshu gathers me in his arms. “Aditya, the world is never kind to us. Jimmy's community is steeped in patriarchy. Honour killings are not new to them.”
“But Jimmy walked away. What more do they want?” I sob on Sudhanshu's shoulder.
“Shh. This is not the time to worry about Jimmy's family. We must fight for our Jimmy.” Sudhanshu consoles me.
“What if we fail?”
Sudhanshu takes a deep breath. “Our Jimmy is strong. God is with us. The bullet only went through the stomach. I am sure after the surgery, Jimmy will recover.”
Yes, Jimmy is the bravest person I have ever met. Despite the hardships in his life's journey, he never gave up.
“He has faced the world head-on, and I am a wimp.” The contrast in our lives is stark. I have lived a safe and privileged life.
“No, you are not. You saved Jimmy. Aditya, you fought off the attackers.”
“I am fake. A quitter who hides behind people.” I shake my head.
“Perhaps you had no one worth fighting for.” Sudhanshu squeezes me tight.
He is right. Until now, I had no one to come out for. But Jimmy is worth giving up on everything I have in my life. I must stop being a coward.
“I need to make some calls.” I break Sudhanshu's hold. “Will you keep watch?”
He nods. I walk down to exit the hospital. Finding an isolated place, I dial Priya.
“Thank God, you called. Jatin's message had me scared to death. How is Jimmy?” Priya bombards me with questions. She had sent a series of texts, but I did not bother to answer any of them.
“Priya, the facade I built has gone too far. We need to end the act.” I share my suspicions about the attackers with Priya.
“Oh, God. How can they do such a thing?” Priya gasps in horror.
“Hate makes people crazy. But we must stop them from causing more harm. I can't jeopardise Jimmy's life.”
“How will you keep Jimmy out of the limelight? We can cancel the book tour, but Jimmy's acting career is about to take off. I am receiving feelers from TV serial production houses.”
“Keep everything on hold. After he recovers, Jimmy can take a call on his modelling assignments and acting, but the book deal needs to end.”
“Are you sure?” The phone goes silent for a few seconds. “Aditya, you should have told me you were in a relationship with Jimmy.”
I have no words. My silence is an admission of my guilt.
“What are you going to tell him?” Priya questions. Thank heavens she does not probe me further.
“Nothing. I will never meet Jimmy again.” Once I make sure his health is taken care of, I will move far away from Almora.
“Aditya, you can't walk away. He needs you at this hour. You love him. How will you let him go?”
“My love has only brought Jimmy pain. I am not capable of giving anyone happiness.” The sky lights up, followed by a thunderclap.
Raindrops pelt down, soaking me again. Priya sighs.
Ignoring her words rattling out of the phone, I turn back towards the hospital.
She, or anyone else, cannot cut the iron chains of guilt binding my legs.
I am the culprit, the police, and the judge of my actions.
I will never forgive myself, but I will repent. “Priya, listen, I need a favour.”