Monsoon Love

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
-Sonnet 18

I've always loved monsoon over other seasons. For me, it's still, "Shall I compare thee to a Monsoon day?" That may be because the rain kept my whole family hurdled in our little house, keeping me company or maybe I never liked the outside world much. Can't tell anymore.

_{Oh, dreary rain. Come back again and again}

Philip Lombard, summing up the girl opposite in a mere flash of his quick-moving eyes thought to himself:
"Quite attractive-a bit schoolmistress perhaps.
A cool customer, he should imagine-and one who could hold her own-in love or war. He'd rather like to take her on…

A couple of monsoons ago, I was losing my steps In the mysterious stony island just off of the Devon coast along with characters from Christie's, "And Then There Were None" when my phone started ringing my ears off. The tiny bookworm inside me started consoling me and said,

"Let it go to voice mail, buddy. Nothing can come before the combination of a cloudy day, a hot steaming cup of coffee and a Thriller." "Do not let this day go to waste."

But the stubborn cheap Chinese phone kept ringing and ringing until I grabbed it by its supple waist in an attempt to shut its crying voice off for once and for all when a tiny text popped up on its even tinier screen.

"Pick up Sakib, It's urgent."

Oh well, there went my day of solitude. I dialed back and, at the other end, was one of my best mates. For the sake of anonymity and being a disturbance himself, let's just call him "Grey." As his soul is Grey, lol.

"what bro! what's so urgent that it couldn't wait till evening?"

In a similar voice to that of a kid getting caught by his parents while stealing candies from the highest shelf, Grey replied,

"Can you come down? I'm standing right in front of your gate."

Who can say no to that voice? Letting my coffee to get cold alone, I came outside to see a downed face, a face that could fall apart in tears anytime.

So, Grey has been going through a tough time in his relation. The girl he has been dating is perfect, he is handsome and able-bodied, but the situation is coerced. They secretly got married, but his angry and grumpy father will not let them stay together. He wants Grey to finish his degrees and look for a job and then settle, which was a good couple of years away.

As kids in Bangladesh tend to be dependent on their parents up to their mid-twenties, so they have to follow whatever the guardians say. But love transcends any boundaries, and these two love birds couldn't keep their hands to themselves and got themselves entangled in a situation that's very complex to get out of.

Now, let's call the girl, "Pink." Pink is one great girl who is very commendable and rarely had to pay her tuition fees due to the number of scholarships she got. And she was a TA with a solid pay when they got married.

As she saw what her young husband was going through, she banked out all her savings and rented an apartment nearby.

That day was Grey's birthday, and I was guilty of forgetting it. Honestly, I can never remember anyone's birthday. And that day, Pink decided to surprise Grey with the apartment to show him support, rapport and strength, which all marriages need. But, this act of love did exactly the opposite of cheering him up. This badly hurt his ego, and he decided to leave. 4 years of unconditional love and Grey couldn't handle one small act that supposedly humbled him a little. So to seek fortitude, Grey sought me out.

To give a little bit of EXTRA context on what happened next, I have to describe to you guys a little portion of our culture. Unlike pubs and bars, we Bengali kids hang out in "Tong Dokan." Tiny shades with benches that sell teas. For us, Bengalis, a cup of tea and smoke, can solve anything in the world. If Mark Watney, The Martian, was Bangladeshi, our astrophysicists would've decided his fate on a Tong Dokan for sure.

So, to sprinkle a little bit of Wisdom on him, we went to a nearby Tong. While sipping on our tiny teacups, I decided to start walking on completely uncharted territories. I mean, I'm a guy who has no idea about how marriage works. But I had to play the part of a good friend, hadn't I?

While consoling him with usual shenanigans like "Don't worry, everything will be okay, you'll find a job and then live happily ever after" and some other meaningless blabberings, I decided to text Pink and tell her to come there. She texted back,

"30 mins."

I thought, girl! Your marriage is about to get destroyed, but you have to make him wait. LOL. Sad LOL.

So for the next period, I kept uttering out the same words of consolations repeatedly and kept feeding him smokes and tea, which left a decent dent in my pocket.

Now, to give a little bit of EXTRA EXTRA context on what happened next, let me tell you the kryptonite of Bangladeshi horny but charismatic apex males. We love Saree. A traditional one-piece dress that girls were on specific occasions. Most of the Bengali poets at least once has written a poem about saree and chastity.

She showed, after ONE long hour, wearing a Saree and looking like a fairy whose wings have just been clipped. What she did was tried to look as enchanting as she could that Grey gets magnetized to her aura.

Grey saw her walking towards and looked at me as if he was Caeser, and I was Brutus. She came and spilled out only one word while I was there,

"Hi"

I gave them the much-needed space. And the saw the eons old, most beautiful yet viciously powerful trick women play on men. I saw how my rowdy friend was so weak to her girly pheromones, and within 15 mins they were on the verge of making out.

And then it was my turn to sip on my cup of tea along with a cigarette while saying to myself,

"বোঝো তাহলে।"

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