I dropped on the chair, and felt the weight of the words pushing me down.

"Hol— hold on," I pointed at Jhanda Guru, "Him? Shalik is getting married to him?"

Father opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Jhanda Guru bellowed in laughter, "HAHAHA! You flatter me, boy! But I'm afraid I don't have nearly enough horsepower for a energetic young lady like your sister!"

Father shot Jhanda Guru a glance, "She will be married to Jhanda Guru's heir. It is a politically significant marriage. The boy will be joining us shortly."

"Onmoy, is his name," Jhanda Guru said thoughtfully, "Talented boy, you know; that's why I took him in. A little too kindly, though. It's a problem in our line of business—"

I peeked up a little. Maybe he's a nice guy?

"—you should see him with the kids. You won't believe it, but I've seen him rolling up their Vaang with his own damn hands," Jhanda Guru shook his head, "He gets attached, that's what."

Well, damn.

Father took a deep breath, momentarily reminding me he has a lung, "Jhanda, that's all good. What about the transaction we had agreed on?"

"You can count it done, boss!" Jhanda Guru smiled like a shark again, "I mean, it is most definitely an odd one but We're still looking for that —"

"We shall discuss it further," father glanced towards me, "in private."

Oh fuck.

Oh holy fuck, how much did he know?

Jhanda Guru snapped a finger, his version of an agreement.

Father kept silent for a while. His eyes narrowed towards some unseen epicenter an infinity away, and his eyebrow rose a few milimeters.

"We were to talk about your plans too, weren't we, Rashed?" Father looked towards me.

I blinked. Then I remembered.

I told father I would give him a reason to marry Reshma.

Except I didn't have any particular reason to do that, other than getting her out of that godforsaken situation.

"Yes, Father," I said, eloquently.

There were several moments of silence. Moments that my brain utilized to rip the everliving daylight out of itself, just to get an answer. But nothing ebbed and flashed.

"Well?" Father repeated.

Run, brain, run!

"What are we doing?" Jhanda Guru leaned forward and asked, "is it any fun?"

"Rashed has asked me to organize the marriage between himself and a granddaughter of the Khandakar family," father explained tiredly.

"Ooh," Jhanda Guru bounced up and down on the couch while clapping, "Young love?"

"Yes," father looked back at me, "but I was assured that wasn't all."

When my brain didn't run, my mouth did.

"Khandakar family owns three ports on Sari river of Sylhet," I knew because we had gone to visit them just the year before, "I wish to acquire control of them."

"And why is that?" Father asked.

Why was it?

Why was Sylhet important to me? Or my family? Or my country?

Country...?

"Sylhet directly shares a border with Tripura, Meghalaya and Assam," the words flowed out of my mouth like manure out of a horse's asshole, "these three states have been protesting against Central Indian Government for quite some time now."

"You wanna supply arms to the Protesting factions?" Jhanda Guru leaned on his hand, "I'd advice against it."

"Well, yes," I sat straighter, "But not just that. I want to go all the way. Situate military outposts in the hills and train the people coming in from that side. Not sell arms. Provide arms."

"And it will be profitable to the gang because?" Father raised an eyebrow.

I took a breath as deep as a quick one can be, "once, and if, they succeed in freeing themselves from India, we would have incredible influence over their government. Possibly, we could directly take part in it."

That sank in slowly. Like a coin through Kerosene.

"Your boy," Jhanda Guru turned towards father, "is talking about taking over a country."

Father was staring at me, "What about the passage of Indian military through our territory? What's to say our own military won't attack us?"

I lifted a finger, "Yes, I have a plan for that too—"

Tingtong!

The calling bell had rung, interrupting me before I could share my non-existent plan.

Jhanda Guru sat up straighter, "They're here! Have you informed your servants, Sardar?"

"They have been informed," father told Jhanda Guru and looked at me, "your strategy needs refining. Your marriage with Reshma Khandakar will be arranged. We will discuss this in further details, preferably in the presence of maps, at future time."

"Here they are!" Jhanda Guru chided enthusiastically.

The door to the hallway opened, and our guests came in.

The first person I noticed was Payesh. Sucker was wearing a Blue Punjabi and walked in like he expected either a paparazzi or an ambush attack; ready to hunch back and cover his face at any moment. The person right infront of him was almost the exact copy, just plus fifty confidence. His back was ramrod straight and face wore a conquerer's smile.

"Assalamualaikum," he came to father and offered his hand.

Father stood up, took it and shook, "Alaikum Assalam."

They both sat down in unison. Payesh stood over them, looking from left to right and shifting undecidedly.

Is he... Waiting for permission to sit?

I sighed and patted the space next to me. He scurried to take the spot. A scent of Jasmine brushed me, but didn't touch fully; only teased my senses.

At least he knew how to apply a perfume properly.

"Now, won't we get to see Shalik," Jhanda Guru groaned, "It's not complete without the staress of the show!"

"Shalik will be joining us shortly," father replied.

So she already knew?

Father leaned just a milimeter towards the new guy, "So, Onmoy. Tell me about yourself. Where do you study? What do you want to do in the future?" He was audibly bored.

"I'm studying Criminal Psychology at daffodil university," the new guy didn't pick it up, "I'm in my fourth year there."

Fourth year. So he's about twenty three years old. Shalik was sixteen.

"Oh, good," father nodded.

"I want to take over Guru's business one day," The guy leaned forward enthusiastically, "It's a very interesting one and I can't wait to bring certain changes to it."

"What is this?" Jhanda Guru mocked surprise, "Leave my kids alone, you!"

"But you spoil them so much!" Onmoy said in a distinctly spoiled tone.

"But I can't contain my love! What should I do?" Jhanda Guru tried to jump towards Onmoy.

Then the unbelievable happened.

Father put a hand on Jhanda Guru's shoulder and said, "Keep it in your pants, Jhanda."

For a second, we all sat shell shocked.

Did father just... Joke?

A sound between a sneeze and a train whistle originated from beside me.

Payesh just snickered.

Jhanda Guru sat down, and on par, the door opened once again to let Shalik in.

She wore a red Salowar and yellow pajamas. Her face was so ghostly pale I almost expected to see right through her. She closed the door behind her.

With short, scurrying, footsteps she made her way towards us. She sat beside me, opposite from Payesh, when she reached. Her elbow touched mine. Onmoy looked at her, and then looked down. Shalik followed the gesture.

"Mmm," Jhanda Guru said.

Nobody else said anything.

"Mmmm," Jhanda Guru continued, "it's a lover's meeting."

Anybody still didn't say anything.

Jhanda Guru clapped on Onmoy's back, "Come on, boy! Don't you have anything to say to your would-be bride?"

Onmoy lifted his face. Blushed. Looked back down.

"Oh, look at them!" Jhanda Guru yelled, "They're both so shy!"

I spared a glance towards Shalik to see her shift her jaw.

Shy was not the word.

"Look look, Sardar," Jhanda Guru poked father, "You're girl is shying so much!"

Something like a smile tried to rip it's way out of father's face, but it failed, "Sure."

"You're pretty," Onmoy finally said, and caved back into the couch. From the corner of the eye, I saw Shalik nod.

"I suggest we arrange the engagement party the day after tomorrow, and the marriage the day after that," father declared.

"Day after tomorrow?" Jhanda Guru sounded astonished, "Aren't we rushing this a little, Sardar?"

"No," father killed whatever non-existent expression was on his face, "I believe that's enough time to prepare."

Jhanda Guru pretended to think, "Then we could perhaps arrange both marriages at the same time—"

"No," father tapped his feet, "We will arrange them separately. Shalik's marriage will come first."

"Why separately?" Jhanda Guru pointed at me, "I'm sure Rashed boy's heart is just cracking up to meet Reshma-bird."

If I could get inside the floor and pull it on myself like a blanket, I would've. I glanced at Shalik to see her staring right back at me. Eek!

"I have my good reasons," father said decisively, "Rashed's marriage with Reshma Khandakar will be arranged a week later."

"Well," Jhanda Guru shrugged, "He's your boy."

At this point, servants came into the room to serve food. There was Fist Kabab, Balushai, and Borhani. The food was great; the food is always great. But it was also uneatable because of the thick coating of silence on us. Except for maybe Jhanda Guru. I'm pretty sure he ate more than half of the food.

There wasn't much talk after the food was gone. A little interrogation between father and Onmoy. Jhanda Guru acted obnoxiously bubbly the whole time. Shalik contributed with the occasional "That's nice." Payesh only snickered every once a laugh.

And me?

I wasn't even there.

We saw them to their cars, and watched them drive away into the night.

Shalik waited until we were at the hallway that held both of our rooms. We were alone there and only ever there.

She slapped me across the face. Then she grabbed my collar and pushed me to the wall, "Why?"

I pulled her hand away, "It was the only way."

"What about the options you came up on spot, then?" Shalik said through clenched teeth.

"You and I both know that life isn't human."

Shalik looked down to the floor for a few seconds, then she looked me in the eye, pressed me to the wall, and said, "If you fuck this up, I'm gonna drop you under a lawn mower."

With that, she turned around and stomped to her room. I heard the sound of the door slamming.

I walked into my own room and closed the door behind me. The room was a familiar sight in the dark. The floor was a dark pool, and the television screen was a window to the abyss. They were the familiar shadows. They wanted to help me. But tonight, they were dead. Tonight their embrace was the cold skeletal fingers of time.

Something was on my bed. It was small, black and coiled up in the dark. I squinted and realized it was that boy from before.

No one had bothered to take him away?

Oh, well, now he was on my bed. I can't sleep with people on my bed. I need my whole bed.

Sighing, I got a blanket, wrapped him up— he stirred a little— and picked him up. He weighed his volume of flowers.

Opening the closet, I put him in the coat rack. There was more than enough place there for him to curl up in, and the coat rack is empty anyway. I closed the door, but didn't lock it.

Now both of us get to sleep in peace, huh?

I let myself fall onto my bed, and before I hit the sheets, I was gone.

( A map of Bangladesh to help understand what Rashed was talking about:

Assam is out of the scope here.)