Skip to main content

Protidaan: Chapter Ten

Dawn was my favourite time of the day back in the village. The cuckoo or magpie would often chirp as the first light of the sun hit the dew-wet grass, and often shone like diamonds. I remember Ma used to get up before everyone else, and often after a bath, with her wet hair hanging from her shoulder, she would take a walk on the dew-wet grass, urging me and Dada to do the same.  She was the first face I saw every morning, as she either walked into my room to open the windows or stop the alarm, urging me to wake up and study. Her ever-smiling face made my mornings.

"It keeps you healthy." She said once, making Dada laugh. Her words had no scientific logic. If anything, it gives you a bad cold, Dada would reply before he walked away. Ma wasn't pleased with him being an exact replica of our father. Whether it was because my mother's idea of the world was different or she wished her children wouldn't grow up to be like the husband she only knew from a distance, I can't tell. All I observed, being the person I am, is that every time Dada let her down, she would turn to me. She looked at me with hopeful eyes that I'd understand her the way Baba or Dada couldn't. And I somehow always quietly gave in. A part of me agreed with Dada, but not everything you do for your loved ones is for the sake of logic. After she was gone, I would often go down at dawn and walk on the lawn barefoot. The dew felt cold under my feet, yet somehow I sensed it would make her happy.


Usually, the house would still be asleep for a good thirty minutes more before I heard Thamma call her caregiver, Malati Di, who would help her to the pond on our premises. Despite adapting to many modern-day amenities, this was a habit Thamma couldn't let go of. Then, when I heard her blow the conch shell for the morning Pujo, I knew it was exactly half past six and I walked back to my room to get ready for breakfast. Often, through the Singhadwar that overlooked the road outside, I could see the milkman cycling to the neighbourhood from the village or the neighbours going to the station for work. Sometimes I could hear Kakima on the verandah or roof, putting wet clothes on the line as she shouted out instructions to Lata. That is how I knew they were early risers. Sometimes the gardener came by to water the plants and trim the bushes, but he stayed quiet and did his job almost like he was invisible to me, perhaps considering that I wanted to be left alone. I didn’t encourage early morning conversations unless absolutely necessary. Sometimes I would see him bring in shrubs or seeds, and go across the street to get them approved. Lata was really taking her hobby of gardening rather seriously.


Occasionally, there would be a cart or two, coming from the village and going towards the main road, where you could occasionally hear cars honking. Other than that, the rustling leaves, chirping birds and fair silence of the dawn pleased me. Unlike cities, village life was quieter and closer to nature. The only birds that woke me in the mornings of Calcutta were crows and sparrows. Sometimes, occasionally, there were a bunch of Indian Mynas, but I was used to seeing them more in the village. Even their calls sounded harsher in the city. Bibha would say it's in my head. But it's somehow true that everything in the village sounded sweeter.


Lata inherited from my mother her strangest of superstitions. I am not sure if either of her parents had those, but my mother definitely did. One day, I was out on the lawn, about to take off my slippers and walk on the grass, when I spotted Lata tiptoeing towards a bush. I frowned a little. She wasn't usually at our place until breakfast or even afterwards. What was she up to so early in the morning? I observed her, fixed to my spot. She pushed the bushes a little and looked disappointed as she turned around and was startled to find me there. Aware of my presence, she quickly pushed her wet hair back over her back and was about to walk away.

"What are you looking for?" My question made her stop. She glanced over her shoulder with a sheepish smile as I waited for her answer. I inquired again, this time in my authoritative voice.

"Err… you will laugh." She shook her head. I assured her I wouldn’t.

"I was out on the roof." She pointed at their terrace " And I spotted a single Shalik here." I narrowed my eyebrows at her words. She could understand I was rather clueless, so she added, "You know how the day goes bad if you see one of them and goes really well when it's two?" She looked away as I was visibly amused. "I was looking for the other one." She stopped as I laughed, shaking my head at her rather silly logic. Lata immediately frowned. "You said you won't laugh, Deb Da." I tried to control my laugh as I nodded.

"You are being silly. Nothing of this sort happens. Believe me." I reassured her. She was definitely not convinced.

"If I have a bad day, it's your fault." She frowned a little as I accepted my fate just to prove her wrong. I diverted the conversation to the flowers she had planted. She eyed me rather judgmentally as I had noticed her flowers only after she had pointed them out. She, however, proceeded to explain to me how the different flowers need different fertilisers and soil, and the amount of water needed to be regulated. She picked up a pink rose from one of the trimmed brushes filled with buds and smelled it.

“Here.” She turned to give it to me and smiled, “This is the best quality one from Kashmir.” I didn’t ask how she knew that, but listened to her interesting facts on flowers instead. For the first time, I wasn’t annoyed with someone’s conversation ruining my morning. I took the flower from her and smelled it. I had carelessly put it down on the study table in my room, and later, when it started to dry up, I put some water in the glass and put the rose in. It survived a good number of days on my writing desk.


It was around noon that day when I returned home to find Bibha looking agitated and explaining something to Thamma. Lata would follow her home after school, but she wasn’t there, so I enquired about it. Bibha shrugged and said, "Lata fell off the cycle on the way back home. She must have broken her leg or something. I just came from there." I was a little taken aback as Thamma looked up at my face. 

“Don’t just stand there, go and see.” She almost scolded me. I nodded as I walked out at the same pace I had walked in a moment ago, and went across the street to her house. Kaku wasn’t home, and I found Kakima scolding her to be careful. Lata was teary, as she held on to her injured leg, and her white uniform saree was soaked with blood around her right knee. Her younger cousin, who was barely five, was home, and she stood close to her mother, who was by then trying to find someone to call on Kaku. She stopped at my sight at the threshold.

“Deb Babu, can you please send one of your servants over?” She looked puzzled. “I don’t know what to do,” I reassured her, with all the calmness I could find, and called Kanai to fetch the doctor before going back home in a hurry to dial Kaku’s office. Kaku was out on official work, and the Peon reassured me that he would inform him as soon as he came back into the office.  I went back inside to find that Kakima had helped Lata lie down on her bed, while she winced in pain. I stood at the threshold, a little confused, when the knock on the door made her cousin open it for Kanai Da and the doctor. Lata felt very conscious of my presence when the doctor told her to lift the saree to her knees to show him her injury. That prompted me to turn and leave the room. I was pacing the living room when he came out and informed us, much to our relief, that fortunately, nothing was broken. Her bruises would heal in a day or two, and she needed to rest until then. I nodded a small thank you, offering him his fees before Kakima could protest as Kanai showed him out. Kakima wouldn’t let me leave without having tea, so I told Kanai to inform Thamma at home that Lata was fine. 


When I walked into her room again while Kakima fried some Beguni to serve me tea with, Lata was half seated on her bed, having changed into a green saree. Her eyes were hurt, and she tried hard to not show the pain on her face. I asked her if she was alright, to be met with a rather cold stare.

“I told you one Shalik was bad luck, I needed to see the pair.” I was taken aback by her words. I inquired about what happened and forbade her from even trying to get up and work, let alone come over.

“Who would do the chores?” She sounded worried. “Ananta’s books need to be covered and Didi…” She had stopped at my cold stare. I reassured her that they would be fine without her, although I knew otherwise.

I had spent the rest of the day covering Ananta’s books and listening to Bibha rant about a book she read, patiently. I even tied Ananta’s shoelaces for the next two days without a complaint. But no matter what I did, I wasn’t good enough.

“Didi does it this way.” Ananta would frown at the slightest difference.

“Why aren’t you talking? Lata reacts when I tell stories; otherwise, how will I know if you like it or not?” Bibha complained. Two days later, they were relieved to have Lata back, and so was I. 


The first thing she did, however, entering my room, was to eye the withered rose still in the glass. I must admit it smelled foul by then, yet I was too lazy to clean up or let a servant help. She eyed me disapprovingly as I sat on my bed. She picked the glass up and exited the room, murmuring to herself and came back with a fresh glass to keep by the water jug. 

“Where is the flower?” I asked as she frowned.

“It withered. I threw it away.” She shrugged. 

Fele dile?” She frowned at my words, cluelessly. Why would I be interested in keeping a withered flower?

“If you like them so much, I can place some in a vase somewhere.” I shook my head at her offer, suddenly conscious of her. Lata didn’t know why I enquired about the withered flower. I had no answers for her if she asked. So I carefully changed the topic to her bruises. As for my opinion on omens, I realised that some things perhaps look better in pairs.





Popular posts from this blog

Purnota: Chapter Eleven

Bondita opened her window to find Thamma and Jyatha Moshai missing from the lawn. The chairs were empty. Was she sleeping till late? She checked the clock and shook her head. Taking the towel, she hurried towards the bathroom, countering Kalindi on the way. She was reading the newspaper with her rimless reading glasses on. “Umm… why are you here? Where is Jyatha Moshai?” Kalindi raised her eyes briefly and sighed without putting the paper away. Her lack of response puzzled Bondita as she made her way to take a bath. When she came out in a pair of jeans and a shirt, rolling her sleeves up, Kalindi observed her keenly. “Will you be going somewhere?” She enquired. Bondita nodded.  “Ah, yes, the District Office, some of my paperwork for the Bar Membership needs to be signed by a Gazetted Officer. Jyatha Moshai knows someone…” “Don’t go by their house… he is in a bad mood.” Kalindi placed some Chirer Polao in front of her and spoke as Bondita rubbed her wet hair with a frown. “Why?” “Oh...

Purnota: Chapter Thirteen

Aniruddha eyed Trilochon, sitting at the desk in his room, attending to some paperwork. His reading glasses were on his nose, and he appeared engrossed in a financial document. He stood at the threshold, a bit unsure and glanced over his shoulder at Somnath, Batuk and Bondita. She gestured at him to go on. Aniruddha cleared his throat. That prompted Trilochon to look away from his document at his nephew. “Jethu, if you are busy, I can come back…” He suggested unsurely. “Come in and close the door.” Trilochon glanced over Aniruddha’s shoulder at the others who walked away hurriedly. Aniruddha closed the door, and Bondita tiptoed to place her ears on it. Batuk and Somnath stood at a distance. “So you met her?” Trilochon spoke while cleaning his glasses. Aniruddha nodded. Somnath had introduced them to Ashalata. Bondita, Batuk, and he had met them in a Dhaba off the highway. Although Bondita did most of the talking, initiating a friendly gesture to put the nervous Ashalata at ease, he had...

Purnota: Chapter Twelve

Bondita woke up to the alarm clock ringing as she struggled to get her hand out of the quilt wrapped around her. She sat inside the mosquito net, rubbing her eyes and staring at the clock, trying to remember why she had set the alarm at 3.45 AM. Then her eyes shone in delight. It was Mahalaya. She remembered that during her days in Dehra, she had educated her roommate on the tradition of starting pujo with the voice of Birendra Krishna Bhadra echoing through the air. She was uninterested, and Bondita had borrowed her headphones to hear the program and deeply missed home. She remembered that as a child, while her father was still alive, he would gently wake her up, and take her on his lap to the huge Banyan tree near the Panchayat where people gathered near the Pradhan’s radio, putting flower garlands and lamps around it and folding their hands as they heard Mahishashur Mardini killing the Asura. When she arrived in Kolkata to get her law degree, she thought things would be different. B...

You Deserve More

Ajabdeh woke up with the song of birds as she felt something warm on her hand. Her eyes went wide. Her hand was on the pillow in between them, between his hands, clasped as he slept. She thought of removing it slowly, but he was holding on to it so tightly. Ajabdeh's heart beat faster and faster. What do I do now? How do I not wake him? What if... why is my hand in his? She was utterly confused.   " Am I...In love?" Pratap was staring at the sleeping figure on the bed as he stared back at the rain. Then he frowned as he noticed that she shivered. He closed the windows of the room to make it cosy, then sat on his side of the bed. A lamp flickered on her side like always, and he stared at her sleeping figure as he put his blanket over her as well. She shifted a little in her sleep to make herself cosy again. Her payals and bangles made a rhythmic sound, breaking the silence of the room. Her hand was out of her blanket and on the pillow in between. He tried to slowly put it ...

Purnota: Chapter Ten

The rain clouds gave way to the scorching sun the following day as Bondita woke up as the first rays of the sun hit her face and disturbed her sleep. She cursed herself for keeping the window open and sat inside the mosquito net with a sleepy yawn. She eyed the alarm clock on her desk that said 6.30. Bondita scratched her head and pulled the mosquito net up to search for her slippers. She heard the bell ringing from Thamma’s room and the chanting of mantras. A smile came involuntarily to her lips as she realised that she might have come after ages, but everything in Chandannagar seemed to have been at a standstill. She grabbed the Kurti from the chair to change from the top she was wearing and wondered what she could do for the day. For the first time in a long time, she was free from the routine of boarding houses. Her eyes fell on the mess around her room since she had not unpacked the day before. Bondita decided to spend the morning unpacking her belongings. She opened the door of h...

Dreams and Wishes

At dawn, the Bhil women took the girls to the Kalika Mata Temple and the Jal Kund. Dressed in white, a nervous Heer followed everything Ajabde knew and did, trying to explain the significance of the rituals to her. They prayed to Lord Ganesh. Kunwar Shakti and Kunwar Pratap were staying at Punja Ji's place, as they were not supposed to see the brides before the wedding. Ajabde was dressed in her mother's lehenga, a mang tika Jaivanta Bai gave her as a family heirloom and the simple nosering Pratap had gifted. They made their hair into a simple bun with wildflowers before putting on their dupatta. Heer was dressed in traditional Bhil jewellery of silver and beads that the women had gifted her. They made her wear a red and white saree draped as a lehenga and a red chunri with it. She looked like a pretty, colourful Bhil bride. Kunwar Shakti was a nervous groom dressed in a traditional bhil dhoti, kurta and cap. The bhil shawl hung from a side, making the white attire colourf...

Purnota: Chapter Sixteen

It had been a month since Bondita had started working in the firm. With Somnath’s wedding date being set for winter, many things were keeping Trilochon and Kalindi busy as they took charge of the smooth running of things leading up to the wedding. They needed to shop for everyone, buy gifts and choose jewellery and sarees for the bride. Despite his attempts, Trilochon found Binoy reluctant to participate in his son’s wedding arrangements. Somnath took him and Kalindi to places they wanted to go, especially Kolkata for shopping, and Trilochon made arrangements to make sure that the first wedding of the generation was grand enough. Bondita tried to help as much as she could as she noticed Aniruddha being oddly aloof from the entire thing. She assumed it was due to Trilochon’s reactions to his lack of interest in marriage. Trilochon kept pestering her to enquire into his reasons while she kept stalling him with excuses. Bondita also failed to know more about Kalindi and Trilochon’s past, ...

Towards You

The Afghans, after Sher Shah Suri's untimely demise, were at loggerheads for power. Their troops near Mewar were now led by Mehmood Shah. They secretly captured territories in the forests and waited to attack Mewari camps when the time was right. Rawat Chundawat and his spies had confirmed the news, and Udai Singh sent a warning to Mehmood Shah to withdraw his troops from Mewar in vain. Now that it was out in the open, it was time they declared war. Mehmood Shah had limited resources in Mewar. His internal rebellion against his commander did not help his cause. His spies clearly suggested that in no way could he win, especially with Kunwar Pratap leading his troops. He was having second thoughts about the war. It was then that one of his aides suggested a perfect plan. Maharani Jaivanta Bai had decided to go to the Mahakaleshwar Temple near the outskirts of Chittorgarh, in the forestlands of Bhilwara. They had travelled a long way and across the Gambhiri river that meandered during...

Confrontation

Maine kahan tha saath rahunga Banunga main tera saaya Par tere saath kuch kadam bhi Main nahi chal paya Bondita got out of bed and left the room before Aniruddha woke up. She went about her chores and decided to ignore his presence until she found herself a logical explanation for her impulsive behaviour, good enough for him to forgive her mistake. She made breakfast and told the cook to note down who preferred what for when she would leave. She waited in the kitchen long enough for the breakfast to be served by the house help and eaten. His routine was fixed. He would go to the study room and leave for work in half an hour. Then, she wouldn’t have to put up with this hide-and-seek till late afternoon or evening. But things rarely go as planned in life. “Bondita? Bouma!” Trilochan’s call made her shake her head. She pulled the ghomta above her head and walked out to the dining area. Eyes met briefly as she looked away and spoke to Trilochan as if dismissing his presence altogether....

Purnota: Chapter Fifteen

A week was all it took for Bondita to get used to work and the new routine. She would wake up early and hurry through her chores, helping Kalindi prepare a tiffin of either Chirer Polao or bread jam and then proceeding to the Roy Chowdhury house. She would arrange the day’s paperwork before Aniruddha arrived at the study room. Occasionally, she would hear him call out to Koeli for breakfast and pack her things, knowing he was almost ready to leave. He would walk into the chamber, check his list, and they would go to work. She would follow him from courtroom to courtroom. She would be sitting in the audience and learning. She would follow him to conferences and client meetings and take notes. They would discuss complicated cases. She would share the tiffin she brought from home. He would at first take a reluctant bite, then eat more than her. She often gave him her share of food discreetly. They usually stayed back after everyone was gone and ordered food for dinner. Some days, he woul...