By the time we reached Purushwadi, it was all dark except for the tiny traces of light in the sky. It looked like the entire village had very limited electricity. Most of the houses were lit with oil lamps. They were not even houses, they were thatched huts that looked centuries old. More or less, it looked like backward region of Maharashtra that remains untouched by the urban population. I wondered that’s probably what most Indian villages looked like before independance or years before that.
There was nothing to admire except for the greenery which of course was because of the monsoons. During this period, every village in Maharashtra will offer this kind of verdancy, perhaps even better. The whole village was surrounded by agricultural lands. As we moved further, we were greeted by several local villagers. Most of the men were wearing Kurtas and a white colored Nehru cap. Several women were seated at the front porch of their houses. They wore traditional sarees covering their heads with the dupatta (saree cloth). What looked even more weird was a gigantic mango-shaped nose ring that hung like a bell and extended till their upper chin.
Soon we reached our tents that were also lit with oil lamps. Most of the tents were empty except for a handful of other tourists who sat outside. At 7:30 we had a light dinner. Luckily, our host wasn’t a local villager. He was the member of a group called Grassroutes that has been organizing this festival in Purushwadi over the past several years. However, the dinner they served was prepared by the locals. We ate Amti with Puran Polis which wasn’t that bad, considering the location. After dinner, we had a little interaction with the locals. A majority of them didn’t understand hindi and considering my terrible Marathi accent, I decided not to push the conversations further.
At 8:30, we all gathered at the campsite as Sumit (the host) gave us instructions about the night tour. Soon after that, we started our guided tour and descended into the woods with our phones’ flashlights on.
Charvee noticed my eerie expressions and she could tell that I wasn’t really enjoying this little adventure. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t enjoying at all.
“Raj,” she said as I looked into her dark brown eyes. Your life is about to change.
I didn’t understand whether it was a reassurance or something else, but I would later realize that she was right.
We could hear the soft sound of crickets singing in unison. As we descended further into the woods, the sounds grew louder and louder. After five minutes, as we reached deeper into the woods, merely 100 meters from our camps, we started seeing them. Tiny flashes of yellow light, flickering and glimmering in the darkness. The numbers grew as we marched further and soon there were hundreds of them, and then thousands. The numbers kept growing as the minutes passed. They were all around as far as the eyes could see. The sounds were loud and clear, and it wasn’t the crickets that we heard earlier. It were the fireflies who played a magical symphony which entered our ears like the soft tickles.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Chaarvi inquired, but I was speechless.
“I did some research before coming here,” she said. What we’re seeing right now is a heavenly congregation of over 2000 different firefly species. You won’t see this anywhere else in all of Asia.
“It’s unbelievable,” I muttered, barely able to position myself on the ground.
“I know. It’s their mating season,” she explained. The males emit light in different patterns to attract the females. The females respond to their signals by producing light flashes in their own way. Once they find a suitable partner, they are ready to mate and the females lay eggs. Fireflies have a short lifespan of up to two months. They die when the monsoon dominates. The eggs laid by the females in this season will carry larvae till the next season and it takes another month for it to mature. So the newly born fireflies will be ready for the next mating season. And the cycle goes on and on.
“But how do they produce light,” I asked. Shining and gleaming is different, but seeing it looks like they are charged with electricity, it looks unreal.
“Okay, so let me make that easy for you,” she said. Have you ever seen beetles?
“Yes, I have,” I replied.
“Fireflies are nothing but the beetles, with bioluminescent properties,” she explained. They produce different patterns of light, depending on the situation using a technique called bioluminescence.
Like every other living organism, fireflies also have biochemical reactions in their bodies, a unique kind of reaction that causes the effect of bioluminescence. Their lower abdomen contain a unique chemical called luciferin that reacts with an enzyme called luciferase. On top of it, there is a tracheal tube that feeds oxygen to the body. So when oxygen enters the abdomen, it reacts with the chemical in the presence of luciferase which produces light.
“Wow, you’re a genius,” I said, with my mouth wide open.
We stayed there for almost an hour and then returned to our camps. The night was extremely cold. Even in the month of June, we felt shivers. Sumit was kind enough to arrange a bonfire for us. Although there was only a handful of tourists, they seemed to be fully enjoying their time here, in this small village which is almost non-existent in the maps. It was a full moon night and as the skies cleared, we could see thousands of stars and dozens of constellations, something you don’t get to see in a metropolitan.
“So you didn’t tell me,” Charvee asked. How was it?
“It was magical,” that’s all I could say. For a moment, I felt as if I was dreaming. Ever since I met this girl, it’s been a bombshell ride. I was surprised by the places that I’ve visited at least a dozen times. And all of it seemed like a dream, considering the fact that I only met this girl less than 12 hours ago. In the dead of the night, I was again having these thoughts. Once again, I felt an urge to pull her by my side and take her in my arms, and then never let her go. I wished for the time to stop by. I wanted this night to last forever. I wanted to drown myself in those emerald eyes and never come out.
We had plenty of sweet conversations till a quarter past midnight. We shared things that were somehow common between the two of us. She told me about her failed relationship and I told her about my failed marriage. I told her things that I have never shared with anyone, all my life. Things that I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. I told her about my wife’s affair with a rich divorced woman.
It was a year and a half after our marriage when I first discovered about my wife’s sexuality. She was a bisexual. The first few months after marriage were so full of passion. We were having a great time. I still remember the first night of our honeymoon in Bali. We were inseparable. We could spend hours in bed without getting bored of each other. We tried all the crazy stuff that a married couple does. After only six months into marriage, she started showing signs of disinterest. All of a sudden, she started taking too much interest in the matters of Rotary Club. We both were members of the Rotary Club but she was the one who actively participated in all the cultural activities and charity events. As time passed, things started to get awry between the two of us. At one point in time, we didn’t have sex in weeks, and then months passed. We started having silly arguments. I tried my best to make things up to her but she would not listen. And then one night when we were sleeping, her phone beeped several times. I checked the time, it was a quarter to two. Shalini was still asleep, and so I jumped at the opportunity. Her phone was locked but I could see the most recent message on the screen.
I had the best time tonight. Hope you would have stayed longer. XoXo
There were three other messages in the same thread, all from the same person.
Let’s try something different next time.
I’ve got some handcuffs and stuff.
Up for a BDSM this friday? It’ll be fun!!!
It was now clear beyond any doubt that my wife was having an affair, right under my nose. However, more shocking than this was the fact that all these messages were from a lady we both knew pretty well. It was Kavita, the head of the Rotary Club. A divorced lady in her early forties, she was also running an NGO in Pune. Everything started falling back into pieces. Kavita had been to our house a couple of times, mostly while I was away. She even stayed with my wife for two days when I was away. It made perfect sense. There is little chance of suspicion when two female friends are partying together or going out for a drink. But I still had to confirm which I did the next morning. When Shalini was taking a shower, I took out her sim card and inserted it in my phone. I typed a message and sent it to Kavita from her number.
I’m in trouble. Rajveer read your messages last night. Please see me at Phoenix mall in half an hour. It’s an SOS!!!
As my wife came out of the bathroom, I looked at her with those hurtful eyes. I was about to confront her out front at that moment, but I had to confirm that she was indeed cheating on me. She noticed me staring at her and smiled. That was the last time I ever saw her smile. Without saying anything, I left for the place where I was about to meet Kavita.
My sudden encounter with Kavita when she was expecting my wife to show up that day gave her goosebumps. She tried her best to control the situation and hide the reality, but I was adamant, I was out of control. After heated arguments for almost half an hour, Kavita and I reached my flat to have a word with Shalini on the matter. They tried their best to placate me but somehow I was able to convince Shalini that she had committed adultery. She had cheated on me. She had cheated on me with a woman. I wasn’t ready to accept this. And then I lost control and hit her. I threatened to call her parents and tell them she’s a lesbian. She begged me not to, but I did. I sent the screenshots of her dirty chat with Kavita on her family’s WhatsApp group. And then I left, cursing myself for marrying her in the first place.
I spent the whole day outside. By the time I reached home, I was sloshed, barely able to stand straight. But what I saw next would haunt me for the rest of my days. The bedroom floor was covered with blood. My wife was lying on the bed, her right wrist bleeding. There was a sharp blade on the left side of the bed, inches away from her hand. My wife, Shalini was gone.
“It wasn’t a suicide,” I muttered as I crired, for the first time in months. It was a murder. I killed my wife. I insulted her in front of her family. I stigmatized her.
Seeing me crying, Charvee did her best to comfort me. She draped her arm around my shoulder and washed off my tears with her hand.
“But why would she take such a foolish step,” said Charvee. You only had a fight, a quite serious one of course, but I think it was fixable. You were her husband and you loved her. What she did was wrong, but that lady Kavita was equally responsible for that. Suicide was definitely not the solution.
“I know. But she was in a mental trauma,” I said. Her’s was a very conservative family. If the word broke out, they would have killed her themselves. All this wouldn't have happened if I hadn’t taken that foolish step to forward her messages in the family group.
Charvee didn’t say anything. She just held my face and rested it upon her shoulder.
“It was all my fau….,” she stopped me mid way, placing her finger on my lip. And then slowly, she closed her eyes and placed her lips on mine. We kissed with our eyes closed for several minutes. And then she pulled my face toward her breasts. With a tight embrace, I lifted her and took her in my lap. In a split second, she unbuttoned my shirt and I removed her top. In another five minutes, we were naked, inside the tent, making love as the crickets hummed and the winds blew.
The piercing rays of the morning sun woke me from the slumber. I was alone in the tent, half naked. I had partly forgotten how passionate the night had been, with Charvee right here in this tent. Her radiant aroma was still present in this closed space. I checked my watch, it was 09:45. I wondered where she was and what she would be doing at this hour. Maybe she’s out into the woods, collecting samples of the dead Fireflies. Maybe she’s having breakfast, sitting inside some local hut. As I came out, the camping site was almost vacant. A local villager told me that the group had gone on the morning trek and will be back any moment. Did she go alone on this trek? Why didn’t she wake me up? It made no sense.
Since I had nothing else to do, I just sat there and waited for the group to return. In another 10 minutes, I heard footsteps approaching. “It must be the group,” I told myself. Charvee must be coming here any moment. I knew after what happened last night, things would be different between the two of us. I didn’t know what to say to her, I was hell nervous.
There were half a dozen tourists in the first group, and a handful of others in the next. But Charvee was nowhere to be seen. I searched for her everywhere, all the tents, all the huts. I ran into the woods, called her name several times but no response came. My heart was pounding. I was getting worried about her now. What if these villagers have abducted her? No, that can’t be true, I told myself. Maybe she went on that morning trek and lost her way back. Whatever be the case, I had to inquire the organizers. Luckily, I found Sumit interacting with a local at a little distance from the campsite.
“Hey Sumit,” I waved. I need your help.
“There you are,” he was half expecting me. How’s your fever now?
“Yeah, I’m good,” I blurted. Fever? What fever?
“Yeah, you were sick last night, right?” he said. That’s what the girl told me this morning.
“Wha..what?” I was dumbfounded. Did Charvee told you this?
“Yeah man. She told me you were sick and you need rest,” he said. Told me not to wake you up for the trek.
“And then,” I probed frantically. And then where did she go?
“I don’t know man,” was the prompt reply. Maybe she just left. I haven’t seen her since.
“Ohh don’t tell me this,” I was furious. You must keep track of these things. It’s your responsibility.
“Calm down bro,” he defended. She must have left while I was away with these groups. She didn’t even check out. I thought she was staying back with you.
“So you’re not even sure whether she left or not you moron,” I yelled. Are you fuckin insane? How could you let that happen? I swear to God, if anything happens to this girl, I’m going to bury you alive.
I was out of control now and a few people from the tents came out to stop me from punching his face.
“Easy, easy man,” Sumit blurted in defence. There’s no need to overreact. Why don’t you just call her ask where she is? She might be around. Just calm down!
I realized that after all this time, I didn’t even have her number. Yesterday, we were together all the time, so there was no need to exchange numbers.
“Hey wait, are you Raj?” a voice came from behind.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Your friend left for Pune early in the morning,” he said. She left with a couple who were staying in one of these tents, in their car. She had asked for a lift and they couldn’t say no. And yeah, she gave me this envelope and asked me to hand it over to a person named, Raj.
The words fell heavy upon me. But there was still hope. Maybe she had left her phone number in that envelope, or some other contact details. But there was nothing of that sort. Just a small message, more like a quotation that I couldn’t even decipher.
For months that followed, I waited anxiously to hear from her. Any sort of communication would be a relief. I searched for her on the internet, social media, and college websites. She hadn’t told me about her college. And so I checked with all the colleges and universities in Delhi that offered Entomology courses but got no favorable input. I read her message over and over again, until one day when I fully understood what she was really trying to say. And then I did exactly that.
Seven years later, as I stand here at Lion’s Point in Lonavala, I recall the beautiful memories of that day with Charvee. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be the kind of person I am today. There was a profound change that I experienced in myself after coming back. While the first few weeks or months were restless, it was until I admitted the fact that she’s never coming back. This was the time when her message to me also made sense.
As of today, I’m a successful businessman, a loving husband and a soon-to-be father. I have franchised my cafe and now there are several outlets across Mumbai, Pune, and Nasik. The network is expanding and I plan to reach other metropolitans like Bangalore, Delhi, Lucknow, and Hyderabad. My wife Trapti is six months pregnant and I’m already planning a future for our baby.
As I stand there at the railing, soaking in the view, I read Charvee’s message one last time before leaving.
“It’s not an ending. It’s just the point in the story where you turn the page.”
--- The End---
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