Of Colliding Bubbles and Love
The little girl in a tattered dress eyed Shupto with what he could gather to be hope as he opened his wallet. He had kept the last bill of twenty to take a ride home and was actively ignoring the malnourished kid, whose expression turned a tad bit annoyed as Shupto closed the wallet. To his utmost relief, she finally let go, but strangely enough, he got upset that she did. It would be hard to make her believe that he actually had no money apart from the twenty-taka bill, not even in the tiny tin box locked inside his drawer. He dialled to check his bKash balance and was the least surprised to see a meagre balance of eleven taka. His phone was running on a loan from Banglalink. Shupto couldn’t tell how he had allowed himself to end up in this state, but it wasn’t unexpected to be honest. The little girl was still sitting a few steps away, digging a small hole in the mud that the rainfall in the morning had left. He walked up to the girl and gave her the twenty taka, sighing inwardly. She seemed quite nonchalant, conceivably used to this behaviour of indecisive passers-by who later give in to guilt. She took the money and smiled weakly, not freeing him of her gaze until he was way out of her sight. Shupto was standing in front of Crimson Cup with an absolutely empty wallet. The difference between him and the customers was as stark as it could get. He took out his phone and speed dialled.
“Hello,” a voice answered. He had grown accustomed to the melody the voice entailed; anybody else hearing the voice for the first time would have had a hard time answering to that.
“Hey,” said Shupto. “Laboni.”
There was a pause. Shupto wondered how long his loan would allow him to talk.
“Shupto,” Laboni said in a slightly exasperated tone; the melody in her voice remained unhurt. “Do you need anything?”
Laboni was used to Shupto’s calling at random hours of the day. He rarely called at night. Sometimes, Laboni would wait for him to call at night, counting on his randomness, and during the few times Shupto called after twelve, Laboni had made an undying effort to keep up the conversation. This was rather unusual for Laboni, a girl who had once stalked her stalker from university and beat him up until the nearby police resolved the matter. Laboni was not an easy person to please, or to flirt with, for that matter. But with Shupto, it was different. With Shupto, Laboni couldn’t tell what went wrong. And it irritated the life out of her every single day.
“Laboni,” said Shupto. “Can you come to Crimson Cup now?”
A slight gasp of surprise.
“Crimson Cup?” said Laboni. “Of course.”
Laboni lived in a house in Lalmatia that could easily pass off as a mansion. Her father was a secretary. Shupto had seen the man thrice in his life. Two out of those three times, he was cleaning his own car—a Toyota Altis 2018. The car also donned a flag. Shupto sometimes wondered what it was like to be inside a car with a roaring flag of green and red. Would people respect him more then? Probably. Did people respect him now? He wasn’t so sure.
Shupto knew Laboni would come. She would come even if she had other commitments. She usually did when Shupto called her to an expensive place. She also brought a lot of money along, but those usually went unspent.
Laboni brought two thousand taka today. She knew she would return with it, but still took it hoping Shupto would actually be waiting inside the restaurant for a change.
She spotted him waiting near a tea stall.
“So this is Crimson Cup.” She sighed.
“Laboni.” Shupto said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Try this tea. This gentleman was kind enough to offer me two cups on credit.”
The tea vendor stared at Laboni. It took him a while to realise Laboni was taking the cup of tea from his hand. He looked like he had been hit with a truck. This was probably the first time he had seen someone so breathtakingly beautiful.
“He’s in love with you,” Shupto commented.
Laboni rolled her eyes as she took a sip.
“What’s with you always calling me to an expensive restaurant and then making me drink tea on the roadside?” Asked Laboni. “You do realise I can pay for both of us if you’re broke, right?”
“And I know you’re broke most of the time.” She added.
“I don’t know,” Shupto muttered as he looked at the sky. It was about to rain again. “This feels so much better than sitting inside pretending to be happy with life.”
The little girl came back and was tugging at Shupto’s panjabi.
“She probably figured you have cash.” Shupto muttered as Laboni looked for some changes in the small purse that Shupto had bought for her with his first salary.
The girl went away, this time with a brighter face.
“Are you sure you’re not going to pay him now?” asked Laboni, gesturing towards the tea vendor.
“No, I told you,” said Shupto, clearly annoyed, “He accepts credit.”
“But I can easily pay him now.”
“This is supposed to be my treat.”
Laboni stared at Shupto, trying to figure him out for the hundred and seventy-seventh time.
The small junction at road 27 would usually be filled with sexually deprived men trying to feel empowered by staring down women. One of them brushed his palm against Laboni’s back just in time for her to turn and grin. She loved to grin at stalkers and eve teasers.
With a sudden swish of her hand, she splattered the remaining tea on the man’s face as the passer by stared in shock.
“Was it too hot?” She asked casually as the man screamed, wiping his face vigorously.
“Not as much as you to be honest,” Shupto muttered softly. Laboni blushed for a fraction of a second.
“Thank you,” said Laboni, shifting her head to the side and smiling. “For the compliment, and for the tea.”
“Since you threw that away anyway, why not just have a cup at Crimson for a change.” Shupto said as the injured man walked past them, swearing loudly.
“Are you sure?” Laboni asked hesitantly. This was the first time Shupto suggested actually stepping inside a high-end coffee shop, or high-end any place for that matter. He had used them as excuses to meet Laboni so many times that he perhaps thought it was high time he paid them some real value.
“Yup,” Shupto said as he started to walk towards the glass door. To Laboni’s surprise, he even held her hand.
At the far corner, out of their sight, the little girl gave the small amount of cash she got from them to a woman who was sitting on the grimy pavement of Lalmatia, allocating the street kids to places to where they could beg for money.
It began raining again.