A year after Ma left us, Thamma had decided it was time to bring home a daughter-in-law. Dada was already working in Calcutta as well as helping in our family business. He is too old to be married already, as Thamma put it. She had been pestering Baba over Dada’s wedding for quite some time. Baba was clear. We were not in a luxurious position to get him married until he found a job and could take on the responsibilities of his own family. With both my parents absent, there was nobody to question her decision now, no matter how insignificant Dada’s earnings were. That was when, very sheepishly, right in front of me, in Thamma’s room, Dada had talked of his boss, who offered him the dowry to start his firm if he married his daughter. Thamma didn’t want to stop Dada’s highly ambitious career run, but she also expected a daughter-in-law who would take care of the house like Ma did. Her inclination towards Lata first started visibly when Boudi failed to tick the boxes of the ideal Bouma in her mind. For the six-odd months, Boudi did live with us, and she tried to fit in, in utter frustration. Lata tried to help her, but then Thamma would end up praising her instead, establishing to Boudi that she was an outsider.
After exactly six months, Dada declared at dinner that they needed to move to Calcutta for his “career” to grow. I wasn’t around much except on the weekends in those six months, but the little that I was, I saw that Thamma and Boudi were like two opposite poles and never meant to get along. Her opinion and city-girl outlook failed to match the old woman’s worldly views in more ways than one. Bibha tried to befriend her, but Boudi had a problem with anyone close to Lata, namely, all of us. I sometimes feel the old lady’s will to accept Lata’s father’s offer had something to do with teaching Boudi a lesson as well. Or perhaps, while looking at the background and wealth of Boudi, she realised that it wasn’t the most important thing. Whatever the reason might have been, Boudi left no impression on our home and hearts, as Lata continued about her daily chores, just like Ma once taught her.
Lata was eleven, and I was nineteen when I moved to Kharagpur for college. It was Dada’s idea that I should study to help him eventually set up his firm, and he offered to pay my college fees, making Thamma agree to send me off to study. For the first year, I hated my hostel life because I missed home-cooked food; for the rest, I was worried sick for my siblings and Thamma and didn’t want to stay away in the absence of my parents. I had a sense Baba wouldn’t like that. Especially when Dada Boudi left. Ananta was happy that I was leaving, giving him permission and free access to my room and things, and Bibha wanted my radio to be put in her room. Lata helped me pack my bags the first time I left. She helped me pack every time I came back. Once or twice, she would slip in a note, in the novels I carried, making a small to-do list or reminding me where I kept certain things when I departed for college.
When Boudi was around, Lata had reduced her visits to our home in a futile attempt to mend things between Thamma and Boudi. But both the Bhattacharya ladies had made up their minds about each other. When I came home over those six months, mostly on weekends, Lata would come into my room to help unpack, silently keeping my things in place. She would then reappear in the evening, with a novel she borrowed or a doubt she kept all through the week to be cleared by me. One day after she left, I had finished with my day, ready to leave for Kharagpur early at dawn, I had opened the novel she kept on my table, and a piece of paper fell out. It was cut out of her notebook, and in her handwriting in pencil, she had written. “Talk to Didi, she is upset about her examination.” So I did before I left, and Bibha gushed about how much I cared for her. This eventually became a habit of Lata’s. Whatever she couldn’t tell me in person, or would like me to do mainly for Ananta or Bibha, she would slip into tiny notes, in the novels she borrowed. It helped me keep pace with what happened at home, during my absence and what my siblings expected of me.
I walked into my room, rubbing my wet hair with the towel as I eyed the perfectly made bed. Lata had stayed the night with Bibha, and when I had tiptoed out in the hall to check on Bibha, I had found the lights in her room on, and then their voices talking in whispers. At least she wasn’t crying. I was a bit relieved. Lata had avoided me since I said what I said. I perhaps shouldn’t have. Not in this situation of a grimace, at least. I shook my head. What was done was done. There was no point crying over spilt milk. She had slipped into my room, knowing very well I was in the washroom and tidied it up. My eyes fell on the novel on my writing desk. It wasn’t there before. I frowned a little. I turned it in to check the title. It was one of the books from the library downstairs, so why was it in my room? I almost immediately smiled as I scanned through the yellow pages. A note dropped from it, on the floor, as I picked it up. I opened it, anticipating that it was some information on Bibha, something she perhaps in her own modesty couldn’t speak of aloud to me, and I frowned at the single syllable, scraped with a pencil on it.
“Kotha Dilam.” I frowned at first, a little clueless at the words because they just said she gave her word, and then my heart made a funny leap. I sat down on the chair, suddenly feeling it was hard to breathe. I held the piece of paper close to my thumping heart, as I smiled, realising my ears were warm. Lata had, in her own way, managed to ignite hope in my heart. With her by my side, I could face the odds and struggle through them, like I always did. She had promised to be with me through all of it.
Strange how suddenly the negativity around me just disappeared into the light of dawn. She was my sunshine after a storm. She was right, we have saved Bibha. Nothing was over for her. She would start again, like the past few months were a nightmare. We would fix things together, Lata and I, like we always did. I stood up, and my eyes fell on a heap of college forms I had picked up for Lata. Bibha had wasted a year, but she could still continue her studies with Lata. This time, I would not let her life be wasted.
“Dadababu.” Kanai stopped at the door, a little alarmed to see me smiling by myself. I was quick to hide the note in my fist when he spoke.
“Thamma dakchen.” I nodded, telling him I was on my way. I slipped the note carefully into the drawer that had a lock on it. The keys were in the cupboard, and only Lata accessed them beside me. I wouldn’t want Ananta or some maid to chance upon the otherwise insignificant piece of paper that held the decision of my life and throw it away. I still have that paper, wrinkled, yellow and the pencil writing faded, in between the pages of my journal. I was quick to grab the crisp-washed Panjabi she had kept out while I was in the washroom and walked to Thamma’s room.
Kaku sat there, sipping tea, while Kakima sat beside Thamma’s bed, holding her hand. Thamma looked worried as she looked up at me, with her dulled eyes.
“Where is Bibha?” She asked, almost in a whisper, sounding worried. I opened my mouth to speak, only to realise it wasn’t asked of me. Lata answered from the threshold, behind me.
“Didi is sleeping. I didn’t wake her up.” She spoke as she walked past me and handed Kakima the soup she had made for Thamma’s breakfast.
“Ananta needs some supplies for his school project, so we are going to the market. If you need anything?” She asked, totally dismissing my presence in the room, as both Kakima and Thamma shook their heads.
“I will come back and make lunch for Didi. Kanai da brought her favourite, figs.” Lata spoke, taking the empty cup from Kaku’s hand. “She likes my recipe for it,” Ananta called her from the hallway as she looked up at Thamma for permission to leave.
“Esho.” Thamma nodded. I stepped back, making way for her to walk away, without even sparing me a glance. I was suddenly disappointed at the indifference. I understood she was aware of the family around, but could she not spare me a glance?
Thamma waited for her footsteps to recede down the hallway as she cleared her throat and spoke to me.
“I was just talking to them about Kedar’s wishes.” I looked up at her face and looked away immediately, a little awkward at the conversation. “They have no problem.” She shook her head.
“Oh, Pishima, it will be an honour for us,” Kaku murmured with a smile. “The question of having a problem doesn’t arise.” Kakima agreed, with a silent nod. If anything, she was relieved.
“Now talk to the girl, will you?” I was a little embarrassed at her tone, as Kakima pressed her lips together. “We need to make arrangements for the wedding, then Pishima.”
“Whatever dowry Dada left her…” Kaku cleared his throat. Thamma shook her head in protest.
“ You give her what you want to and can; we don’t need anything. Am I not right, Debu?” I looked up at the three pairs of eyes and nodded.
“Of course.” I said firmly, “If Kedar Kaku left her anything, it belongs to her and she should spend it as she wishes.” Thamma agreed.
“Very well then, I will tell the Thakur Moshai to bring the Panjika and…”
“Thamma, with Bibha just here…” I cleared my throat and interrupted. “I was thinking of getting her enrolled in college.” Thamma frowned as I continued. “She has wasted a year already. She can join college with Lata, and the two of them can attend together.” I reasoned. Kakima frowned.
“But why will Lata attend college now?” She looked confused. “Should she step out before the …” She eyed Kaku. I knew what she meant. She was concerned about the expenses.
“That is what I was meaning to tell you, Thamma.” I gathered my thoughts. I told them my idea that with Bibha freshly wounded, it would be insensitive of us to get on with our lives, expecting her to be normal. Instead, we should postpone the plans for a wedding, and I would enrol both Bibha and Lata on college and bear the expenses myself. They could continue to study, and then we could see in a year or two… I was interrupted by Thamma. A year or two? She was shocked. She didn’t expect to survive that long. I frowned in protest. The discussion ended with them expecting me to tell Lata that I was enrolling her in college and that we were to keep the engagement a secret till Bibha could handle it, and then the wedding could happen. Thamma felt Lata would be disappointed. She kept lamenting how women had certain expectations out of “this phase of their lives. I understood why she pushed it. Kakima, Kaku and Thamma seemed to be in a hurry to make things normal around the place, but this was no way to do that. Neither Lata nor I would want to start our new life knowing Bibha hadn’t fully recovered from the trauma. I was sure she would understand my point once I explained it, but to my utter cluelessness, Lata didn’t show up in my presence for the next two days. She was hovering around Thamma and Bibha all the times I heard her voice in the house and avoided looking at me in the corridor, perhaps too shy or embarrassed at the new developments. She perhaps didn’t know how to react, and I was too intimidated, hoping that I didn’t make her feel ill at ease.
After avoiding my existence for two days, she had walked into my room like nothing had happened to interrupt my work, with Ananta behind her, at midday, as I looked up, still a little aware of her presence. How did she act so normally? It made me think about how long she had been acting that way, and I never noticed, perhaps. She eyed Ananta, pestering him to show me his science project. Once he was done, and I praised his efforts, Ananta and Lata shared a glance like they wanted to talk about something.
“What is it?” I asked, interrupting their sign language.
“We were wondering…” Ananta spoke first.
“Who will persuade Didi to join college?” Lata added. “She hasn’t been speaking much.” She sounded worried. I looked up at her. Never did we discuss this, yet she knew what my next thought would be, for Bibha. Ananta went on to lament about his futile attempts to make Bibha talk or show interest in anything.
“Give her some time.” I almost scolded him. I looked up at Lata. Of course, she knew who would persuade Bibha to study. It wasn’t definitely me. She nodded, in silence.
Two days later, Bibhabati walked into my room as I sat at my desk scribbling some notes in my journal. I suddenly was aware of her presence as she knocked on the already open door.
“Esho,” I said, getting up in a hurry from my chair, almost worried, gesturing at her to sit down on the bed. She did so, smiling faintly at my worried face.
“I came here to apologise to you, Dada.” She spoke as I frowned slightly at her words. She sighed, wiping away her tears. “You were right, and I didn’t listen. Worse, I dragged Lata into my mess, and Kakima blamed her.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassured her, as I pulled the chair and sat down facing her. “If you ever feel like sharing anything…” She wouldn’t come to me; she had Lata.
“Will you forgive me?” Her words overwhelmed me. I patted her head gently. Of course, I would, I already had. I suddenly felt like it was the right time to talk to her about the future.
“You are just nineteen, Bibha. You have a whole life ahead of you. Good things are to come.” I reassured her as she smiled faintly. “Lata had been telling me this for the past two days. Did you two discuss something?” Her old suspicious tone was back, and I shook my head.
“I just think you should enrol in college with her.” I cleared my throat. “It will be good for you and keep you occupied as well.” She didn’t agree or disagree, so I continued. “And you know how shy Lata is with new people and places, you can also be of help to her, right?” She just looked up at me and shrugged.
“From now on, I have decided to do whatever you suggest, Dada. I clearly am not the best judge for my own good,” Bibha spoke in a rather hurt tone. I shook my head, reassuring her that she was protected, naive and immature. We all were once. I handed her the forms from my table as she eyed the names of the colleges. None of them was in Calcutta or around. She heaved a sigh of relief. I understood she wanted to be home, closer to us than under the scrutinising eyes of Boudi. She got up and collected them in a bunch, promising to fill them up and give them back to me.
Dada had summoned me to Calcutta once the fraudster was caught, in a matter of a few weeks, and I had to leave for a few days. I didn’t want to involve Bibha in the proceedings as she had just begun to get back to the routine at home. Though she was unbelievably quiet, something we weren’t used to, Bibha had slowly started spending more time around Lata and Ananta. That also meant that I had no opportunity to speak to Lata since that day. I didn’t know what I would speak of to her, but I needed to know nothing had changed, yet something had. I didn’t quite make sense even in my own thoughts, did I? I peeped into Ananta’s room where Bibha and Lata sat on the bed, scrutinising Ananta’s new sitar, while he sat tuning it on the floor.
“Dada?” Bibha, who had her face towards the door, spotted me and smiled faintly “Come inside and see Ananta’s sitar.”
“It arrived today.” Ananta declared. I smiled faintly, nodding in acknowledgement.
“I actually have to leave for some work in Calcutta.” I managed, almost in a murmur, as Bibha and Ananta exchanged glances. Lata glanced over her shoulder at me as I added, “I need to meet a tender holder.” I lied, and Bibha and Ananta didn’t catch it. Lata did as her frown disappeared into pale worry. I walked away from Ananta’s room, and she arrived soon after. She began to pack my things into the suitcase.
“For how many days are you needed there?” She asked, at last, breaking the silence between us. I informed her in a rather low voice that it might take a few days, as Dada stated. She nodded and brought out my clothes accordingly. I folded my arms close to my chest, leaning slightly against the desk and watched her diligently go about her work.
“Did you like the sitar too?” I asked as she stopped to stare right at me.
“I am not going to learn it.” She turned to walk to the wardrobe. I opened my mouth to speak, but then an amused smile formed on my lips. How did she always know what I thought? I told her Thamma wanted me to talk to her, and she nodded like she knew.
“Kakima told me.” The room fell silent again. She proceeded to close the suitcase shut and look around, trying to remember if she had forgotten something. I walked up to her, holding her hand in between mine, making her stop and stare at me, a little concerned.
“I didn’t ask you before I said that…” I looked away as she frowned some more.
Maybe she wanted to be around me, around Bibha and at home, more than before now. Maybe she wanted us to be married. I never bothered to ask when I opened my mouth before Kaku Kakima and Thamma. She shook her head. “You did the right thing.” She made me look up as she smiled faintly, putting her free hand over mine reassuringly, “You know I would have said the same thing. Didi needs to get better. Everything else can wait.” I knew she would say that. I smiled at her, the proudest smile I ever could. Her cheeks grew warm as she realised that I had stepped closer to her the smile lingered on our faces. I liked how I made her react. She slipped her hand off mine and walked up to the desk, appearing busy arranging things.
“While you are at it, put the ink into the pens,” I said before sitting down on the bed. Her hand stopped as she turned to face me with a frown.
“Do I always remind you of pending chores?” She frowned disapprovingly. I smiled sheepishly as she shook her head and walked away from my room. I sighed. Now I could go to Calcutta and focus on important matters. I had a home to come back to.
