After a tumultuous two-day journey, when the three-member convoy returned to their base, they were greeted with great warmth. Some boys had even come to the airport to receive them. With band and drums, the trio entered their premises. Kabir couldn’t understand why a wave of happiness surged within him. Was it truly the victory that took him abroad and earned him gold? Or was it something else?
Shri Kanta, the little master, was in a state of heavy confusion. It's true that Kabir had become their life, but how would everything work out in the traditional Indian environment? Would it be so easy for him to reject his marriage? Would anyone accept his decision?
Sure, he had little contact with his family now, but what would society say about his open announcement of marrying Kabir? No! Impossible. There wouldn’t be any trouble in living together; they could exist as ordinary friends, just like thousands of other boys who study or work together. However, would people be able to digest the announcement of living together as a married couple? What would be the reaction of his in-laws’ family? Would they let him do as he pleased?
Well, if too many problems arose, they could always run away somewhere far. He had to fulfill his promise—not for Kabir, but for himself.
There were hundreds of questions that tormented Shri Kanta. Amidst this turmoil, the promise made to Kabir, which had felt like a burden until now, slowly began to take the shape of a resolve.
So, should he ask for forgiveness from Kabir and end their relationship? No. Absolutely not. This thought only deepened his confusion. A sudden wave of sadness would envelop his heart. The thought of not meeting Kabir anymore would devastate him.
What was it about Kabir? What kind of person was he? What kind of person was Shri Kanta?
Shri Kanta didn’t even know his own caste or religion. He had been raised in the house of an uncle. It was said that his father left him when he was a child, marrying another woman. His mother, devastated by this, became mentally ill and wandered aimlessly. His uncle had raised him and had written his father’s name as George when enrolling him in the village school, which had been his identity ever since.
But all these questions were now part of the past. The most significant question was about his future, which loomed large before him. Kabir was a very lovely boy. Not being with him meant leading a life that was desolate and lifeless.
In the evening, Rohan came to Kabir and said, “I feel like we should go out somewhere for a few days!”
“Weren’t you satisfied with the trip?” Kabir asked.
“Don’t worry, I’ve already talked to the little master; he’ll join us too,” Rohan replied.
Kabir was surprised. After returning from this international competition, there had been a slight relaxation in the routine at the academy. Everyone was taking advantage of this lull and going here and there. Then Rohan shot an arrow straight to the point, saying, “I’m getting married!”
“You’ve become marriageable?” Kabir said.
Rohan suddenly froze, then twisted Kabir’s hand and said, “Come to the room; I’ll tell you!”
Kabir laughed heartily. Then he said, “I meant, are you twenty-one now?”
Rohan replied, “I’ll get engaged now, and then marry in a year or two.”
“To whom? Have you found a girl?” Kabir asked.
“To my sister-in-law,” Rohan said, looking Kabir in the eye.
Kabir stared at him, dumbfounded. He couldn’t immediately tell whether Rohan was joking or serious. Then Rohan spoke earnestly, “No, man, I’ve promised Shri Kanta that I’ll marry his wife, who’s still living with her parents in the village.”
Kabir looked at him intently, as if weighing the sincerity of his words. Kabir took Rohan’s hand in his and squeezed it, as if giving him blessings and good wishes.
Suddenly, Rohan jumped up and said, “Man, tell me one thing, you swear, answer honestly.”
“What?” Kabir replied.
“What would be our relationship?” Rohan asked.
“What do you mean?” Kabir found the question a bit odd.
Rohan explained, “I mean, who will be my brother between you two, and who will be my sister-in-law?”
“Dude, you don’t even know that much! Come here.” Kabir leaned closer to Rohan’s ear and whispered something.
Rohan jumped with excitement, exclaiming, “Really!!! But he’s three years older than you!”
“So what?” Kabir said, lowering his head.
Rohan said, “Man, then we’ve got your name wrong!”
“Then change it!” Kabir retorted.
“Okay, but this will remain a secret between us. From today, the little master will be called ‘Black Hole’ and you will be ‘Red Tower’!”
(The End)
