The Fireplace

He felt a cold breeze blow, always carrying him with it. He could hear his bones creek as he wandered in the cold evening. He tried to keep himself warm but his flimsy worn out clothes were no match for the cold. Though he pulled his shawl, his only defence from the cold, his teeth chattered loudly.

How did he get here? What was he doing out on this cold evening? What was he looking? So many question to which he had no answer. The  cold breeze had now turned into a blowing wind. He could hear it  in the trees, in the rustling of the leaves. He pulled the shawl around his shoulders, trying desperately to keep himself warm.

After while he saw a faint glow, a fire simmering in a clearing. He made his way towards hoping to find someone who could help him. But there was no one there. How strange was that, he thought, on a cold night like this, it was strange to find a burning fire with no one there. But all that didn’t matter. He was cold, and the fire provided the warmth he needed.

As he sat there, warming himself, he remembered another warm fire, but that wasn’t in a open place but in a house. A fireplace, that’s what it was, not like the bonfire that he was sitting in front of. This felt like a distant memory. He found it strange that he could recollect this but had no recollection of how he got out, where he came and what he was looking for.

The warmth of the fire warmed his body and his heart. It wasn’t a searing heat, it was a warm gentle heat. It made him feel warm and it made him feel safe. There was something pleasant, a homely and loving warmth. He could no longer feel the cool.

As he sat in front of the fire, his mind jogged back in time. He remember when he first brought to his master’s place by his parents who worked in master’s household. As he was quiet along and almost the age of his master, he was allowed to play with his master.

He remembered the fond memories of playing in front of the place, especially on rainy days, when children were not permitted to go out and play in the rain, and winter evening when it was too cold to go out to play. It was in front the fireplace where his faster taught him how to read and write.

He remembered, when he grew a little older, his mother said it was time he too helped with the domestic work. He couldn’t play much with his master, but he did find time to sit in front of the fireplace so that he could sit with his master and learn from him and sometime listen to him read the news from the paper. They became close with time.

Then one day, his master was sent to a foreign land to complete his education. When he heard about this he felt sad, he wanted to cry and tell his master not to go. But then he was a lowly servant, besides why would his master pay heed to him. When the time came for his master to leave, he could see a sadness in his master’s face, in Anis eyes. But neither of them could express it due to the status quo that was in front of them.

As the years went by, he continues to work with his parents as the caretaker of the of the house. Every vacation his master would come to village  to spend his break. And though there was a lot to be done, he remembered how his master ensure that he made time to spend it with him in front of fireplace. He was  always fascinated by stories that his master would tell him, about the teachers and libraries, the parties, the girls, the various sports he played. While there was not much he could share with his master, except all the happenings in the village, the latest gossips, which cow gave birth, and so on. But his master always listened to him intently, even though he knew he was boring his master. 

Over the years his mater grew into a handsome young man. He could see the village belle swoon when ever he came over, and would eavesdrop especially when he would go for a swim in the lake. They keep needling him to take them to him, so they could a better view of him. He just shooed them off saying that his master had better thing to do and he would not want to waste his time on a gaon ki chori when he could get a well educated and a beautiful angrez memsaheb. But secretly he too would find himself staring at his master. There were times when his master changed right in front of him. He could see every inch of master’s toned body. And even though he tried to look away from him, he could feel a stirring a longing within him.

Then one year his master came to the village during the monsoon. His parents hadn’t come with him and he added alone. That evening parents sent food for his master. But before he could reach it began to rain. He was thankful that his mother had wrapped the food securely so that the water wouldn’t harm it. But the same couldn’t be said about him. By the time he reached the house, he was soaked to the bone. 

His master was concerned when he saw him at the door, and though he tried to protest that he would need to go home, his master commanded to wait till the rain passed and if he got wet again he catch a cold or pneumonia or malaria, or whatever rain sickness. He asked him to come and dry himself off by the fire.

As he couldn’t disobey his master’s words, he went quietly and sat by the fire but was still shivering because he was wearing his wet clothes. Seeing this master asked him to remove his clothes and let it dry. When he saw him hesitating he jokingly told him that there was nothing that he hadn’t seen. Although he protested, his master refused to listen and come over playfully tried to get him to remove his  wet clothes.

They began to wrestle like they did  when they were kids. The wrestled all over the place till they were out of breath. His master was on top him, pinning him to the ground. He could his master’s warm breath on his face. And then he felt something growing harder. The. There was that feeling he got every time he saw his master in the buff. And when he looked into his master’s eyes, hey found them mesmerising, almost leaving him in a trance. He tried not gaze, but his master kept drawing him in, like a magnetic pull.

His master lowered his face their nose touched  and shared airspace. He tried to avoid his masters lips, but in the end they met. He had never kissed anyone, let alone a man, so sensation was new and awkward. But then something happened deep inside him, something burst and he could feel this warm wonderful feeling that was growing deep within him. He  gave  in and kissed him back.

They rid themselves of their clothes , and continued to kiss. He felt intoxicated the smell of his master’s skin, it was the beautiful smell which he had smelt. With bodies entangled, skin on skin they made love that night. It was the first time he had ever done it and this was a kind of feeling that he had never felt before. His body was tingling, and shuddered with every touch. He felt orgasmic, to the point of ecstasy. 

When they were climaxed, they just lay there, their bodies entangled, their manhood pressed against each other, sweat of their bodies mingling with each other. It felt magical, it felt warm, it felt natural and beautiful. He knew he had broken more than a dozen taboos, but in that moment it didn’t matter. It felt like their bodies were fused together from the heat that emitted from the fireplace in their hearts, and the fireplace before which they lay in each other’s arms.

He stared at his master’s face, looking into his eyes. There were so many things that he hadn’t noticed before, thanks to the social boundaries that were in between them. But now that they had fallen there were so many minute details that he noticed, like the grey fleck in his  eyes, the scars above his eyebrow from the stitches that he had to get from a fall, the perfect straightness of his nose. There were so many details he could see.

His master turned and took his face in his hand and kissed him. His lips felt so soft against his. He didn’t want this moment to end. He just wanted to just lay there in his master’s arm. He felt warm and safe there. But he had to get up leave for home. Though he didn’t care he was worried if his parents would begin worry.

He remembered that vacation distinctly, even as his memory tried to deceive him. He held on to those memories cause they were the best days of his life. He found some excuse to spend more time with his master: they held hands, when no one looking, they kissed and made love every at every chance. His life was beautiful, he was finally in love, he hopes and prayed that his master loved him back. It is as a perfect monsoon love story, if there was any such thing.

As all things had to come to an need, his master’s vacation came to an end. He had to return back to his studies. He didn’t want to go and he didn’t want him to go, but reluctantly they parted, not before he promised to come back for him and take him with him, away from the village ways. 

They returned back to their lives. They made it a point to write to each other, and every now and then he used to get a call from his master. He distinctly remembered that he continued to work with a hope of one day being able to spend the rest of his life with master.

In the present he sat there staring at the flame wondering what exactly had happened. And then he remembered what happened, and as he thought about it he felt like a dagger was driven through his heart. Though he didn’t want to remember he still remembered it.

One summer day he received a call from his master. What his master said made his world come crashing down around him. His master had been into a marriage against his wish. Some family promise that had to be kept. His master tried explaining his predicament but couldn’t listen to it. His head was spinning around and all he could hear the sound of his life coming crashing down.

His master tried to call, tried to write to him,tried to meet him, but refused to meet him at all. His heart was broken to a million pieces. His master was only person he had ever loved. He had kept his end of the promise but his master hadn’t kept his end. He felt cheated. 

After that what happened was a bit fuzzy, things he couldn’t remember. He tried to remember what happened after that be he couldn’t recollect it. Secretly he was glad he couldn’t remember it, he was sure they were more painful if he couldn’t remember them.

As he sat but that fire, he started to feel sleepy. He couldn’t help but lay down next to it. As he lay down next  to it he felt the same warmth that he had experienced when he lay in master’s arms after they had made love. He felt as if once again he was in his master’s arms. Sleep came quick, and within minutes he was fast a sleep.

In the morning, when the people came to the site, they found his body laying next to the funeral pyre. He must have passed away sometime in the night, in his sleep. Someone recognised him as the caretaker of the house who’s owner had just passed away and next to his pyre  he had passed away, reuniting with his master in the after life.