"Did I not accept your Facebook friend request or something?"
Dikhou frowned, shooting Junak a questioning look. Despite that, the annoying smirk did not leave his lips.
Junak shrugged. "You don't like me, so clearly I must've done something to offend you."
Dikhou did not reply, simply kept staring.
It made Junak uncomfortable, not knowing what was going on in that jerk's head. "I don't know what I could've possibly done, though, because I don't even remember interacting with you before."
Dikhou scoffed and looked away. "No, I never sent you any Facebook friend request."
It was Junak's turn to frown. Here he was, trying to soothe whatever tension existed between them but Dikhou was being so... annoyingly impossible.
Junak shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and said nothing after that. The two were walking through narrow paths winding their way through the village. There were small houses - some made of bricks and cement, others made of bamboo and mud - on either side, bamboo fences demarcating the lands. They all had large front yards and even larger backyards, some with ponds of their own. Ducks, hens roamed about. Men in dhotis and women in mekhela sador were out and about, doing their daily chores.
Amidst all that, Junak, in his pink hoodie, black skinny jeans and boots, stuck out like a sore thumb. It almost made him anxious. What if these people found out what he and his friends were here to do?
Bihu was the crown jewel of their culture. It had its own rules and reverence. There were clearly demarcated gender norms too - the song, dance, musical instruments performed by men and women were different and separate. There was also the inherent patriarchy and sexism - the men teased the women who got shy and walked away. Marriage norms, family, respect for elders were the core values. All of it being highly heteronormative, of course.
So what Junak was about to do... would change everything.
"The market sits here," Dikhou said out of the blue. "On Mondays."
Junak nodded, looking around. There were standing on a large patch of barren land, with a few open sheds littered around in the edges. "What if you need to buy stuff on... Wednesday?"
Dikhou chuckled lightly. It sounded more like a snort. "Most of the food can be found in our backyards. If you're in dire need on Wednesday, there's a small retail store in the village square that keeps stock of most essentials. Or, you just head over to the nearest town, around ten kilometres away."
Junak nodded again, making a mental note to come here again on Monday, to hopefully get some material to film.
"Come on." Dikhou skipped up the road. "Have you ever-"
"Dikhou!"
A couple of metres away, where the path forked, three guys were sitting on a bench made of tree stumps, smoking. One of them raised a hand at Dikhou, beckoning him over.
Junak stayed rooted to his spot as the other man walked up to them. They exchanged a few words, laughed, and then Dikhou took a cigarette from the tallest guy. He took a single puff and returned it.
Just the sight of it made Junak uncomfortable. As much as wanted to not judge someone on their appearance, those guys in unkempt shirts, with evil-ish smirks on their faces, did not sit well with Junak. Given the chance, he'd never interact with them.
Now, however, Dikhou looked at him and beckoned him over. Knowing he'd need their help with the music, he made his way towards the guys.
"Junak, hey!" The tallest one was also the skinniest, with disgusting hair. Junak had no idea how he knew his name; he chalked it up to the 'news travels fast in the village' factor.
"We heard you're making a movie?" This guy had a round face with his hair cut almost at the scalp. "Don't forget to cast us, yeah? We're the handsomest guys around."
"Who, you?" The other two laughed, unkindly. Dikhou did not join; he stood there with a standard smile that Junak was starting to recognise as his resting state.
"Here." The tall guy handed his cigarette to Junak.
The thought of sharing a cigarette with either of those guys repulsed Junak to the point of a shudder. "No, thank you." He smiled.
"Come on," the guy insisted.
Junak waved his hands, as politely as he could, and took an involuntary step back.
"We won't tell your grandpa." The round-faced dude laughed. "And your parents aren't here."
That one hit a nerve, though Junak couldn't tell whether the jab was intentional or not. His hands curled into fists at his side.
"Knock it off, guys, he said he doesn't want it," Dikhou said, pushing the tall guy's hand away.
"Yeah, he probably has fancier stuff in the cities," Round-Face said. "Do you?"
Junak shrugged stiffly. "I don't know."
Tall Guy huffed, leaning back. "You were a lot more fun last night."
Junak's heart dropped, cold fear taking its place in his chest.
"Quite some moves you've got," Round-Face jeered. The third guy snorted.
"Which reminds me," Tall-Guy threw an arm around Round-Face's shoulders, and looked at Junak with a smirk, "why do you dress like a girl?"
It was like Junak was in school all over again, cornered by cishet dudes insecure about their own masculinity. Having surrounded himself with women and queer folks after school, he had nearly forgotten about the existence of these people. And it had been so many years since he was faced with such a scenario, he nearly forgot what he was supposed to do.
"Is it fashionable to dress and act like girls in America?" Round-Face asked.
Junak sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, ignoring the voice in his head that wanted him to run, to cower, to back down. This wasn't home turf, he shouldn't be making enemies, the voice told him. But he ignored it. Because he was done being scared of guys like these. "I don't know," he said, without disguising the sneer in his voice, "is it fashionable to have fragile male egos in Nonrong?"
Their mirth fell away to confusion, then shock and then finally settled on rage. Junak could see it, their urge to step forward and punch him. He clenched his fists harder and braced for impact.
"Ha ha ha, you guys are so funny," Dikhou said, his laughter cutting through the tension. He threw an arm around Junak's shoulder, putting himself between him and the guys. "We'll see you around, yeah? We got places to be," he said to the three and led Junak away, through the path on their right.
The moment those guys were out of view and earshot, Junak roughly pushed away from Dikhou's hold.
"I... I'm sorry about them," Dikhou said. His voice was low and serious, and the usual mischief and mirth were no longer there on his face. It was the first time Junak was seeing him like this. "I didn't think they'd-"
"Whatever," Junak muttered. He tucked his hands in his pockets and continued walking with his head downcast. Dikhou walked beside him in silence.
Junak knew people were going to judge. He knew what he had signed up for, coming here. Despite that, it stung. He told himself it didn't matter because he'd be gone in a few days and these ignorant morons will be left here rotting. So whatever. They could judge all they liked.
But what did bother Junak was that if those guys were being hostile over the fact that he 'looked and acted like a girl', what would happen if they found out about his project?
It scared him, and he hated that he was scared.
"You sing really well," Dikhou said after they had walked for a few minutes.
Junak kept his gaze on the path ahead and said nothing. There were vast fields on one side and dense bamboo trees on the other. There were no people around, only cows grazing in the distance.
"Last night, you were singing," Dikhou explained. His voice sounded different, without the usual mockery dripping from the syllables. "You were quite good. Well, before you got shitfaced and ruined all notions of tune."
Junak was strangely grateful to see him trying to do... whatever he was doing. "Thanks," he whispered without looking up.
"Is that what you do? Sing?"
Junak kicked a pebble. "No." It rolled away and came to a halt a few feet away. He kicked it again. "I write songs and play a few instruments but no, I don't sing."
"Hmm." Dikhou was silent for a beat, then said, "You do need to work on your dancing skills though. You're terrible."
Junak snorted before he could help himself. "I'm sure my sober self can do better."
Dikhou chuckled softly. "I'm sure." Another brief pause followed. "Do you spell Baruah with or without the H?"
"Huh?" Junak looked at his companion to find him with his phone out. Realisation hit immediately. "Wait, don't," he cried, throwing a hand atop Dikhou's phone screen.
Dikhou chuckled but made no attempts to shoo him away. "It's okay. I won't care if you suck."
"That's not the point." Junak was suddenly breathless. "And no, I don't suck, I'm great at what I do."
Dikhou was smiling at him, amused. "So, what's the problem?"
"I..." Junak trailed off, not knowing how to say my internet presence is like a unicorn vomiting all over me and I don't want you to see that because you might be homophobic.
"Do you..." Dikhou did that thing where he tilted his head and pretended to think, "make pornographic content?"
Junak opened his mouth to deny when Dikhou added, "Or worse, do you make horror films?"
Junak wasn't sure how but a laugh left his lips. "Are you ever going to let that go?"
Dikhou shook his head, grinning from ear to ear.
A smile lingered on Junak's own face as he watched the boy, his eyes glinting with mischief. Unlike the three dicks he met earlier, Dikhou had a kind of harmless wonder attached to his smirks. Like he was genuinely amused and curious. And as much as Junak wanted to stay mad at him for his prank, it was obvious Dikhou never expected the twenty-two-year-old guy from the city to actually take him seriously.
"Fine." Junak still had his hand atop the phone, Dikhou's fingers pressed under his palm. "You're probably never going to talk to me again after seeing this," Junak retracted his hand, trying to sound as casual as he could with his heart hammering in his chest, "which works for me because you're hella annoying."
Dikhou laughed soundlessly and nodded. He looked down at the phone screen and opened a video.
Junak couldn't see the screen but he could guess which one he had opened. As music poured out of the speakers, his guess was confirmed.
With bated breaths, he watched Dikhou's face. The smile was gone, so was the amusement.
Great. If Dikhou was homophobic, it was better to get it out of the way now itself. They couldn't have worked together otherwise.
You only love me in the cold of the night, come sunrise you're back under the comfort of your masks - the song went. It wasn't a masterpiece of a song, but it was written by a friend who had asked him to help out with the video. Given a good budget and creative liberty, Junak agreed and made a short film about two young men meeting in secret. It was all angst and no solace but the actors were stunning and with over one million views on YouTube, it turned out to be Junak's most popular work.
"You directed it?" Dikhou asked once the music died down. His voice was low and flat.
"And wrote the story, yeah," Junak answered. His eyes were desperately searching for a reaction on Dikhou's face but it was a sea of calm, revealing nothing.
"It's good," he said without enthusiasm. He then locked the phone and put it in his pocket.
Junak kept staring. His heart was frantic in his chest. It was like coming out to his friends all over again, and he hated it, the damned anticipation. He wanted the band-aid to be ripped.
Dikhou noticed his eyes on him. "What?" he asked stiffly.
Junak raised his brows, forcing a smile in order to look cool and sound casual and not like he was handling what felt like a ticking time bomb. "Are you not gonna... say anything? Or ask? Are you not gonna go back to those charming friends of yours and beat the shit out of me? And demand that I leave the village immediately?"
Dikhou frowned like he did not understand what Junak had said. "No," he said, his voice almost a whisper. He looked away and started walking. "I understand that people in the cities are like that."
Junak matched his pace, walking backwards to keep facing him. "It's not a city thing. I can guarantee you that at least five people in this village are probably not straight or cisgendered. Could be more."
Dikhou stopped in his tracks, abruptly, as if the path had broken off into a cliff in front of him. His gaze was fixed at something far ahead. "You think so?" he whispered.
It was Junak's turn to be confused. He could tell that there was some story here, but with the shock on Dikhou's face, it was clear now was not the time to push. So he casually shrugged and said, "I mean, it's not an exact science but yeah." He sighed and kicked a pebble. "But whatever, dude. If you're disgusted, you can just tell me so we'll never have to talk again."
Dikhou scowled at the distant object that had captured his attention. "No," he muttered. After a moment of silence, he directed that glare at Junak. "I don't care what kind of videos you make," he hissed like he was scolding Junak. Like Junak had wronged him somehow.
"Okay..."
Dikhou turned on his heels and walked away. Junak was sure that meant fuck-off-Junak-you-creep-me-out, so he did not follow. But then, without looking back, Dikhou said, "Hurry up or we'll be late for lunch."
Junak felt like a kid being handed a candy. If the best dhool player in the district was not homophobic, his work was going to be so much easier!
He skipped after Dikhou, barely containing the excitement in his voice as he asked, "Wait, does this mean you'll help me write my song?"