Crumbs of Closure

 It was 2011, and we had just moved from Shillong to Kerala. I finally got into a KV school, and on a weekend, we decided to visit a close relative, someone my parents hadn't seen since their wedding day. In typical Kerala fashion, my family follows the custom of cousin marriages, and that’s how it was for my parents. Jyothish (Name changed), my uncle from my dad’s side, was also my second cousin from my mom’s side. It was the first time I was meeting him, and I was 16, fully aware of my orientation.

Everyone in the family was excited to see Jyothish and kept talking him up like he was some kind of hero. That definitely sparked some curiosity. He finally arrived, riding a Mahindra Duro scooter. Since I had a Mahindra Rodeo scooter, we immediately bonded over joking about the scooters. That’s how we connected. 

He became close to my family and would often call our landline. Eventually, the phone conversations would end up with me, and we just clicked. One day, he asked if I had a mobile phone. I said yes, and from then on, we started texting. It was casual, fun, and easygoing. In one of our chats, he told me he liked me. I took the chance to come out and tell him about my sexuality, and he laughed, saying, “That’s why I like you.” It turned out he was queer too, and our bond deepened.

We decided to meet up one day, which today, you’d call a date. I lied, saying I had an extra class, and he said he had work. We made plans to meet at Kayamkulam bus stand and go for a ride. Unfortunately, it started raining, so we ditched the scooter and decided to take a beautiful KSRTC bus ride to Mavelikara instead, about 5 km away. The rain, the cool breeze, It all made the ride feel more romantic. We walked around the town, talking endlessly, and then stopped at a small bakery for some lemon soda and egg puffs. It was my first time having an egg puff, and it was super crunchy. We came out from the bakery and ended up spending the whole day at the walkways and bus stand with long conversations.

After that long beautiful day, I texted him that I loved the day. He responded with a simple “Hmm.” I followed up with, “I really liked you,” to which he replied, “Hmm” again. I asked if everything was okay, and he said, “Yeah.” Being 16 and curious, I pressed further: “You like me, right?” He replied, “I like you.” I smiled, but then he added something unexpected: “I like you like I like ice cream, nature, paintings, the wind and everything.”

Confused, I asked, “What about us?” He responded, “There’s no ‘us.’ You’re my family. I like you, but there’s nothing special.” Heartbroken, I confessed that I liked him in a different way. He quickly shut it down, saying, “Amal, I’m your chittapan (uncle). You shouldn’t see me like that.” After that, things just went downhill. He slowly stopped responding to my texts, ghosted me, and blocked me everywhere. It left me confused and anxious, wondering what had gone wrong.

After eight long years, my mom casually said, "Jyothish is getting married." I was stunned for a moment. “Wait, what?!” I asked, surprised. She nodded and added, “Yeah, and he asked for your number too. Aren’t you two still in touch?”

I tried to play it cool, but internally, I was in shock. After so many years of silence, he suddenly wanted my number? A few days later, he called. By this time, I had grown into a more confident, bold version of myself. 

"Amale..." he started, his voice as familiar as it was distant. "I'm getting married. You should come."

I laughed. Not out of happiness, but more out of disbelief. "What’s funny?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

"Nothing, really," I replied, trying to brush it off. 

He paused for a moment. “Okay... just forget about whatever happened in the past. But be there, alright?”

"No, I won’t come." I responded, without even thinking. 

"Why, da?" His tone was softer, almost pleading.

I took a deep breath, all the emotions from years ago starting to bubble up. “Tell me why you ghosted me. I’ve been haunted by it for eight years. I need to know. If you don’t give me an answer now, then forget about me showing up.”

There was silence initially on the other end. He finally spoke. "You’ll slap me if I tell you."

I laughed. "I need to know. Just say it."

Another long pause, filled with guilt and hesitation. Then, after five long minutes, he finally spoke. 

"Do you remember the day we had lemon soda and egg puff?"

I was surprised. “Yeah... why?”

He sounded nervous. “Well… when you ate the egg puff, you wiped your face with your hands. You didn’t have a handkerchief. And... the crumbs from the egg puff got stuck in your beard. You didn’t wipe it properly, and... honestly, it made me feel really weird.”

For a second, I couldn’t process what I had just heard. My eyes literally widened in disbelief. “Wait, what?!” I said, almost laughing from the absurdity of it all.

"Yeah," he continued, "I know it sounds like a cheap reason now, but back then, it was a big deal for me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it."

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I burst out laughing, the kind of laugh you let out when you’ve been carrying something heavy for years and suddenly realize it was never that serious. 

“Jyothish chetta… you’re telling me that for *eight years* you ghosted me because of some egg puff crumbs in my beard? Ayooo…!” I couldn’t stop laughing. The relief was unreal. 

“That was the first time I’d ever had an egg puff! And yeah, it was super crunchy! My beard was still tiny then, so I knew something got stuck, but the bakery didn’t have any tissues, only a piece of newspaper! And there was no washing area either. I used my hands and didn’t have a mirror to check. You could’ve just told me!”

He chuckled, embarrassed. “I know, I know. But you know what they call it now, right? OCD. Maybe I still have these issues. Back then, I was planning to talk to you about it slowly, but before I could, you also started acting weird, and I thought I should back off. Plus, I realized I shouldn’t get close to someone so much younger than me.”

I sighed, but I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, congratulations on your marriage anyway. Just don’t ghost your wife over some egg puff crumbs or porota flakes, okay? You might end up in court!”

He laughed nervously. “No, no, nothing like that.”

“Look,” I continued, “there’s really nothing more to say. I’m fine now, but the only thing that hurt was that you didn’t tell me the reason back then. I would’ve blocked you first if I’d known it was because of something so ridiculous!. I deserved a closure and you don't know the things that I had to go through anyways thanks.”

I disconnected the call with a smile on my face. After eight long years of self-doubt, wondering what went wrong, it all ended with the most ridiculous yet oddly satisfying answer. The weight of all those years vanished in an instant, leaving behind only laughter.