My version of 'The room on the roof'

I changed the ending of the book 'The Room on the roof' by Ruskin Bond. Nope,I don't do such things for pleasure.It was an assignment and when I read it again after completing it I realized it sounds more like a sad gay love story. All comments acceptable.

………CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Kishen woke up Rusty with a jerk on his hand.

‘You plan to spend the day lying here idle! Get up, freshen up. We have a journey to make. We are returning home.’

‘What about your father, Kishen? Don’t you think you should inform him before leaving for Dehra?’

Kishen flinched at the mention of Mr.Kapoor. He did not reply to Rusty’s question for he considered it irrelevant at the moment. They got onto a ferry boat and Rusty enjoyed the boat ride across the river absorbing all sights & sounds around. The boat was crowded and Kishen smiled at him, grasping his hand tightly. They reached the station and Rusty waited while Kishen disappeared and returned with two 3rd class compartment tickets. Rusty did not wish to inquire where and how those tickets came from.

On the way they talked of old days..Somi..Suri..Ranbir…the picnic…and the unpredictable future that lied ahead. Rusty told Kishen that he had planned to move to England after visiting him. Both of them deliberately avoided to remind each other of the sole person whose absence had emptied the joy out of their lives and they went mum for the rest of the journey. Lost in their own thoughts, they preferred looking out of the window. They were sound asleep when they reached Dehradun station and suddenly sat upright by the hustle & bustle at the platform. They got down and Kishen took a deep breath with a smile so visible across his face that it stretched from one cheek to other. Rusty felt a satisfaction within without knowing the reason for it.

‘You can’t leave your roots and pretend to live like a refugee forever.’ said Kishen catching his eye with Rusty. The statement left Rusty thinking over & over again.

They reached home and rushed inside as if they raced to a common goal. The smell of the furniture dampened by the rain, the cupboards, the floor brought back nostalgic memories to Kishen. They decided to go to the chaat shop. As they sat there counting the money left in their pockets, the chaatwala recognized them. He waved and said ‘The treat is on me today. A homecoming present for you Kishen babu’. People nearby started to talk about them and this gave Kishen a pride to help him find his lost identity back. He abruptly said ‘I’ll take the responsibility of sending you to England, Rusty. You brought me back to where I belong and I owe you this one.’ Rusty went speechless for a while because he wasn’t expecting Kishen to undergo such a drastic change moments after reaching Dehra.

Days passed by, Kishen worked as a mechanic in the cycle repairing shop and Rusty took tuitions. They let the house on a lease agreement to a family who had shifted to Dehra and they lived together in the room on the roof. Kishen saved all the rent money and one day handed it all to Rusty. He requested him to take it when Rusty straight away refused to touch it and pleaded him to search for his origin in England. They went through an emotional disagreement for a couple of days and finally Rusty agreed to leave for England.

On the last day, they laughed, then cried and then hugged each other knowing that a lifelong bond was already established. Kishen advised him to take up writing seriously. Rusty promised he would return and take Kishen out of all the misery just like he did 5 years ago. The last they saw of each other was at the station, waving till the train disappeared at the turn. Kishen was left all alone and he cried shuddered in his loneliness. He remembered that they had discovered a chest full of whiskey and old wine while cleaning the house. He reached out at the closet where they had stored them. He gulped down some whiskey and enjoyed it because it helped him to forget about Rusty…his mother…his ill-fated life.

His drinking habits worsened and he couldn’t even pay his debts at the wine shop. He roamed around in the bazaar…slept on the streets at night…his clothes began to wear out and people looked at him with mixed emotions of spite & sympathy.

When the chaat wala walked upto him offering a aloo tikki wrapped in a banana leaf, he did not open his eyes, smiled and asked ‘ Two more for my Rusty. He will be arriving anytime soon’.