Skip to main content

Protidaan: Chapter Twenty One

The Bhattacharya family was by nature stubborn. I had heard from Thamma stories of Dadu’s stubbornness with the British Government when they increased Taxes on farmland. He used to go and sit in the Governor’s office every single day, without fail, till he finally agreed to meet the mad old man. Then there was Baba. If he knew he would do something, like take a fateful ride to Shantiniketan alone, nobody could stop him. Among us siblings, Bibha was the most stubborn. Perhaps because she was pampered the most by all of us, even Ananta. I remember being home on a weekday, during college, when I heard the cycle bells outside, followed by Ananta running in, his shoes squeaking carelessly against the floor until he saw me and stopped, alarmed, not expecting me to be home. Bibha walked in after him, looking angry. She had her hair braided on either side, and the school uniform, a white saree with a blue border, neatly pleated, hung around her. She looked back at Lata, who, in the same uniform and ribbons, followed her, with both their bags in her hands. She struggled a little with the weight as she pleaded something to Bibha. Bibha snapped, making me frown at them.

“What happened?” I walked up to them, with my hands in my trousers pockets, as Lata suddenly looked aware. Bibha eyed me quietly.
“Lata?” I turned to the thirteen-year-old, holding the bags. “Why are you carrying Bibha’s things? I am sure she can do it herself.” Bibha stomped away, while Ananta eyed them.
“These two have been fighting. ” He said in a hurry before sitting down on the bench. Lata took the cue and dropped the bags to help him remove his shoes. I enquired further, asking Lata instead of Bibha, who had by now shut the door. She didn’t give away much, only that there had been some misunderstanding she would solve between them. I trusted her with a nod, understanding that perhaps my age and position weren’t very reliable for Lata to share her issues with me. She did manage to handle Bibha’s stubbornness better than any of us. I saw them making garlands for Thamma’s puja in the evening, giggling away at the Thakur Dalan. Bibha was the only one who continued having tiffs with Lata every now and then, even when they couldn’t do without each other for even a week. Once, Lata went to her maternal grandparents’ place somewhere in Malda when her grandfather was on his deathbed. She came back after two days, and Ananta and Bibha didn’t leave her side for a week. They were that close.

I saw Bibha after a gap of several months. She was thinner, had bags under her eyes, and bruises on her arms and neck. I noticed the faded sindoor on her hairline and a pair of sankha pola on her wrists. The moment she saw my car stop at her address, she ran out and hugged me. I instantly felt relieved. She wept a little as I reassured her, patting her head awkwardly. I don’t remember the last time I hugged my sister. It was probably while Ma was still alive. She looked alarmed.
“We have to leave before he comes back. He is dangerous.” She walked inside again and came back with a bundle of clothes. I noticed she had abandoned the Shakha pola. “Hurry.” I nodded as she sat beside me and I drove off, home. She narrated her ordeals along the way. He took all her jewellery and lied to her about getting a job. One day, when their neighbour saw him sitting at a chai stall near College Street, she informed Bibha. When Bibha questioned his whereabouts and wanted to see his work slips, she saw a side of Kalikinkar she never imagined. He was angry and terrified and hit her. He told her that he had sold off her jewellery and used up the money to gamble. Bibha threatened to call the police. He locked her up in the house and threatened to burn her alive. He said he was friends with well-known goons. With the help of her next-door neighbour, she wrote to Lata, informing her that he wouldn’t be home for a few days, and he would be off to a friend’s place to ask for some money under false pretences. He had left her with no money so that she couldn’t escape or call us. She sobbed, admitting that she thought she was dead for us, and I wouldn’t help. How could I not? She was always my little sister. I was terrified to even imagine what she went through in those months. I am sure there were more gruesome and intimate details she refrained from sharing with me. I hoped in my heart that she told Lata. I had left Lata sobbing on the porch as I reassured her that her Didi would be back, safe and sound. She had to inform Thamma and the others, and I was sure that by the time we reached home, Dada would know of it too. Bibha kept lamenting how she couldn’t face anyone. I reassured her that no matter what happened, we were her family. 

As soon as our car stopped at the porch, Ananta came out to open the door for her. Thamma was helped downstairs by Kakima and Kaku, as she insisted on coming to the front door. The car honked at the porch, alerting them of our arrival. Lata dashed down the stairs to hug Bibha, who broke down as soon as Lata hugged her. I looked away, in a bid to compose myself as Lata led Bibha to Thamma, and they hugged and cried. Bibha kept apologising as Kakima gasped at her bruises and started nursing them. Ananta had called Dada, and with the information Bibha now gave us, sooner or later, the police would capture the fraudster. Dada would make sure he paid for what he did. There was no time to show mercy. He still hadn’t forgiven Bibha. When Ananta asked when he was coming by, Dada was adamant that he would focus on seeking justice first. I watched the women huddling in the living room as Kanai brought water for Bibha. Ananta looked away and wiped his tears when his eyes met mine. Embarrassed, perhaps, of letting his emotions show, the young lad looked away, and I sighed.

I left them in the hall and walked to my room. I felt disgusted at myself. I was an utter failure of a guardian, a brother and a protector. I couldn’t look out for my younger sister. How could I let her suffer? I sat down on the reclining chair, with my hand on my head. I closed my eyes, trying to compose myself. I needed to be strong. I needed to be brave. I heard Lata walk in after some time, quietly as she always did, and stand near the writing desk, in front of me. Her voice trembled like she had cried, 
“Didi is in her room, and I am staying the night with her.” She managed before sniffing, “Thamma said she shouldn’t be alone.”
“Hmm.” I managed only that, without looking up or giving away my vulnerable, teary self to her. What would she think? Wasn’t I supposed to be a strong, practical person? Wouldn’t she lose respect, seeing how weak I was? She didn’t move from her place as she wiped away her tears with the corner of her saree. I didn’t look up, but I never needed to know what she was doing. 
“What’s wrong with you?” She suddenly sounded worried, her voice more stable now than a moment ago. It took me a lot of courage to look up at her anxious face. 
Lata looked a little shocked, seeing me teary-eyed. She had never seen me like that, not even when Ma was gone and everyone, including her, was moved to tears for days after the fateful day. Her brows narrowed closer, making the black kajal bindi on her forehead appear smaller. Her eyes were questioning.
“I failed, didn't I, Lata?” I asked, my voice choking in tears as I hid my face in my palms once again. “I failed to protect her. Ma would be so disappointed in me. I had promised to look after them.” I shook my head, clasping my hands together, making her shake her head in disapproval. She sat down on the floor, facing me, kneeling before my chair as I looked away.
“No. NO. Why do you think that? You didn’t fail her. We talked about this.” She reasoned. Bibha wasn't supposed to get hurt like that. Not under my watch. I shook my head, in between my sobs. “She was living with a monster, and I let her.”
“You and I both know that even if we reasoned, she wouldn’t have come home unless she saw what she saw.” Lata’s voice was calm. The motherly tone of the reason was back. “If it is anyone’s fault, it is mine. I never doubted anything she said.” She shook her head. “I am so sorry.” I looked up at her face, at her words. Her tears had run down her Kajal-smudged eyes onto her cheeks, and a teardrop hung from the tip of her chin. I never blamed her; she was younger than Bibha. What would she have done? It wasn’t her fault either. At my comforting words, she wiped away the teardrop from her cheek and chin and sighed, trying to compose herself.
“You know what they say about destiny.” She suddenly held my knees with both her hands, reassuring me. “We can’t undo what is already written for us.” I looked at her face as she spoke, looking away at the red flooring. “Maybe this was what taught us all a lesson, and Didi has her entire life ahead of her to rectify herself.” She reassured me again. 
I believed in destiny once. Before tragedies took away all my beliefs. I think a sense of fate was restored in me the day I found her father’s letter. Something I didn’t even admit to myself. She was destined to be mine. I always thought that our own tragedies played their role in strengthening our story. But I had never heard her talk of destiny this way before. When did she grow up so much and understand so many things? I had no idea. My hands reached to hold hers, as she looked up at my face. Her hands were cold as I held them together between my folded palms. “She is too young for all this to happen to her.” I leaned in as I spoke, almost in fear, whispering like I would be heard.
“We all were when we faced different things…” She reminded me. “It made us stronger, didn't it? And if we look at the positive side, we should be glad she knew it sooner rather than later; it saved her life, in a way.” I smiled faintly at her words. That made her look up at me, confused, her eyes lingering on mine.
“Only you seem to think of something positive in this.” I was genuinely surprised. Her eyes didn’t leave mine as she sighed heavily.
“I try to.” She murmured, “People need hope to survive.” I could feel the pain that suddenly appeared in her otherwise calm glance. “If you get weak, what will happen to Didi?” She asked me. 

My hand tightened on hers. 
Ei bhabei sara jibon amar pashe thakbe toh, Lata? Kotha Dao.” I had a sudden urge to know whether she would choose to be by my side through all the turmoil life threw at us in the future. I didn’t know how, I just mouthed those words, and I did, almost in a hurry, as blood rushed through my veins and my heart beat fast enough for me to hear it over my own heavy breathing. Lata’s eyes didn’t leave mine, as I could feel her gulp. She slipped her hand from mine and stood up, suddenly conscious of the proximity in which we were, our faces inches away from each other, as I leaned into her words. She eyed the open door, the curtain pulled back in a corner, almost as if to say, such moments were meant to be between us, but the open door was a hindrance to the exchange of such emotions. She rubbed her hands together as she murmured an excuse to the effect of Thamma needing her, as she turned to leave. Almost in a reflex, I held her hand that day, her wrist fitting perfectly in between my thumb and forefinger as she stopped, a little alarmed. Did she gasp? Or did I imagine she did? 

“You didn’t answer me.” I sounded hoarse; my voice was very different from my usual one, the way I perhaps sounded in my mind every time I had stopped my imagination from running in several directions inappropriately. I stood up, her wrist still in my hand, as I closed in on her back, lowering my fingers to now entwine hers in between them. She froze. It was Thamma’s voice that made me jolt away, very aware of the surroundings as Lata ran out of my room towards hers. I found my comfort that day, I knew I could be vulnerable with my worst fears to her, and yet she didn't judge me. My respect didn’t fall even once in her eyes if I was weak. I heard her scolding Ananta in the hallway as I sank back in my chair, with a faint smile. She was my home, in each and every corner of this house, and in each and every relationship that survived through their ups and downs with me, yet just for once, I needed her to speak up, tell me what she felt, and perhaps, validate my feelings.




Popular posts from this blog

My Everything

Kunwar Pratap stormed into the Mahal at Gogunda amidst uncertainty and chaos. Happy faces of the chieftains and soldiers welcomed him as Rawat Chundawat, and some other chieftains stopped the ongoing Raj Tilak. A visibly scared Kunwar Jagmal looked clueless at a visibly angry Kunwar Pratap. Rani Dheerbai Bhatiyani hadn't expected Kunwar Pratap to show up, that too, despite her conveying to him his father's last wish of crowning Kunwar Jagmal. Twenty-one days after Udai Singh's death, she was finally close to a dream she had dared to dream since Jagmal was born. He was not informed about the Raj Tilak as per Dheerbai's instructions. She eyed Rawat Ji. He must have assembled the chiefs to this revolt against her son, against the dead king. No one except them knew where Kunwar Pratap was staying. It was for the safety of his family. " What are you doing, Chotima?" A disappointed voice was directed at her. She could stoop down so low? For the first time, an anger...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Six

Bondita opened her door in the usual hours of the morning and found Thamma and Jyatha Moshai on the couch in their living room, sipping tea. She had half sat on her bed, leaning against the pillow all night, imagining her plight when she faced Aniruddha in the morning. What if he did not think of it as much as she thought of his actions? What if that was his uncomfortable way of comforting her because she was upset? But what about his eyes, his gestures? Had she misread all of it? Bondita blushed to herself the moment she remembered how his eyes followed her around for the past two days. Bondita was hurrying through her daily chores, eyeing the clock, for she would be late for work and overheard Trilochon lament about things not changing since Binoy left. He thought that things were getting better at home, but as soon as Aniruddha had left for Sunderban, Binoy informed him that he had changed the attorney in charge of his case. Bondita frowned slightly as her hand stopped at wearing th...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Seven

“Why will Bondita not come for Holi?” Asha asked as she inspected the colours, Abir, Pichkiri and balloons Somnath had ordered from Baro Bazaar. He shrugged. “She is scared of colours, I think.” Asha smiled, a little amused at her clueless husband. “She is not ten anymore.” He looked up at her words with a sheepish smile, “Well, I never saw her play Holi, perhaps Dadabhai knows the reason.” Asha contemplated her husband’s words. She did not share a relationship with Aniruddha frank enough for him to share things about Bondita. It would be easier for her to ask Bondita instead. “If you wish for her to come,” Som said, like he could almost read her mind, “Perhaps you can invite her. She won’t say no to you.” Asha nodded. “It will be good to have the whole family together. It's not been so since the wedding.” She smiled. Som agreed as he matched the list with the things. “Yes, and Baba will be coming too, he told me not to tell Jethu, but I was surprised by that.” “Maybe because he an...

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...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Eight

Trilochon was so overwhelmed that Binoy came for the Pujo and Kirtan on Dol Purnima. Their neighbours, friends and acquaintances had all gathered in the Thakur Dalan, first for the pujo when the idol of Sree Radha and Sree Krishna were worshipped in the Dalan, and Horir Loot of Batasha and Naru were distributed. Unlike in the village, people here, especially children, did not fight over the Horir Loot . Bondita and Batuk took part in the ritual like they used to as kids, counting the number of Batasha each of them had, amusing the elders who reminisced about their childhood and how Batuk snatched Bondita’s share and ran as she chased after him, shouting. The Kirtan followed the pujo, the tales of Sree Krishna’s prowess, his Leela and Radha’s sacrifice were sung with the sounds of Dhol and Khanjani . It followed the devotional songs praising Chaitanya Mahaprabhu and his praises to Lord Krishna. Bondita not only liked the stories of Kirtan but also how the crowd joined in the singing and...

Endless

Kunwar Pratap reached the Dangal. Ranima had ordered Ajabdeh to practise regularly. She was nowhere around since he woke up that morning. He had assumed she was with Ranima for the morning prayers, but then she was not in the Dangal on time, either. Ajabdeh was never late. He felt a little uneasy as he picked up the sword. A thunder made him look up at the gloomy sky as he felt the first drop of rain. A little wet, he ran through the corridors.   Ajabdeh had woken up feeling unwell. He was sleeping after a tiring day, so she decided against calling him and, more, worrying him. She bathed, hoping to feel better, performed her puja and went to the gardens for some fresh air. Still feeling uneasy in the gloomy weather, she decided that playing with Parvati might make her feel better. After some talk with Bhago and playing with Parvati, she stood up from the floor and felt dizzy. Bhago caught her hand. " Are you all right?" " I just felt a little dizzy. I don't know why...

Purnota: Chapter Forty One

Kalindi stood looking at the Ganga in the distance as Trilochon watched her. It was later in the night, and the stars were veiling the clear summer sky. A cool breeze blew from the Ganga, relaxing Kalindi’s restless heart as she took a stroll. Trilochon had spotted her in the garden from his balcony and walked up to her. She did not turn as he came up behind her and cleared his throat. “I apologise for storming off like that.” He was the first to speak. Kalindi inhaled. “Have you heard that she went to borrow a saree from Bouma to wear to some party?” Kalindi spoke rather monotonously.  “Yes, Bouma said so.” Trilochon cleared his throat. He left out the part where Asha enthusiastically told him about Bondita blushing and her idea of telling Bondita to confess her feelings. Instead, Trilochon added, “The senior is very influential. He can have some good contacts for Bondita. Perhaps enough for her to get a job in Kolkata, like you wanted.” Kalindi could hear through his unconvincing...

Life and You

" Maharanisa! Maharanisa!" The maid-in-waiting ran through the quiet Rani Mahal as Jaivanta Bai, who was sitting in front of the Lord in her room ever since she was back, rushed out of her room, followed by Sajjabai and Veerbai. " What happened?" She asked, her voice calm, but her heart thumping. " Kunwarsa is here... with Kunwarani... She... She...." The maid sobbed as Jaivanta Bai rushed to the room. She stood at the door as her eyes could not believe what she saw. Kunwar Pratap was soaked in her blood as he laid her down on the bed, shouting, " Quick. Rajvaidya..." His eyes stopped at the door as Jaivanta Bai rushed to be beside the unconscious Ajabdeh. The Daasis and Sevaks were running about soon enough. Sajja Bai gasped at the scene. So much blood. Kunwar Pratap had not noticed anything except her calm, unconscious face. Now that he noticed his blood-soaked, red hands, he stared at them as though in a trance. "Kunwar Pratap! Tell me w...

The Difficulties

“The best of our characters are often reflected in our children.” Kunwar Shakta had visited the court at Udaipur after a Turk marriage offer was turned down by Rana Udai Singh for the third time for one of his Princesses. The Ranimahal at Chittorgarh buzzed with rumours of him warning his father about the consequences of enemity with the Turks and also about the impending doom of Mewar. He had apparently irked Kunwar Partap by suggesting a peace alliance with the Timurids was beneficial to Mewar. Rana Udai Singh, in his anger, had banished him from his court. Kunwar Shakta had sworn not to be associated with the royal family any further and to join allies with the Turks. Rawat Chundawat was calm enough to pacify the angry prince and offer him to shift to Bassi and give his decision a second thought. However, Kunwar Partap had refused to abandon Chittor, defying his father’s orders for a shift to the newly founded capital with his Ranimahal. He wanted to stay at Chittorgarh, which...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Five

“The bride is older than the groom.” Aniruddha heard one of the older villagers speak in a judgmental tone. “No wonder the higher castes don’t attend such atrocities.” He eyed the younger man he was talking to, who smiled. Aniruddha was sitting beside them on a bench in the open courtyard of a house where the wedding rituals were taking place. Tirio and Tumdak were playing rhythmically in a corner as some women danced to the tunes surrounding the new bride and groom. The men sat on the other side of the courtyard.  “Forget about the Brahmins, we don’t expect them to come.” The younger man shook his head. “As for traditions, what is wrong if the bride is older?” He smiled sheepishly at the older man. “What’s wrong? Everything. Master Moshai, you can be educated, but our ancient traditions have reasons. The groom must be older than the bride. It has some reason.” He shook his head. The teacher, in turn, educated the man that it was a perfectly normal Santhali ritual to marry older wo...