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Neelambargarh

 The fort of Neelambargarh was named so because it stood on a cliff above the low-lying plains surrounding it as if it were ready to touch the sky. The fort was surrounded by hilly forestland on three sides and extensive plain lands used for agriculture on the other. The road winding up to Neelambargarh was guarded by three gateways and a secret tunnel, known only to the Neelambargarh royal family, led down from the five-storey palace to the river in the forestland. The kingdom of Neelambargarh was known across the land beyond the Heemdevi Mountains for its art and architecture. True indeed, like the myths it held, the stone walls of the fort and the castles shone in the sun like fire swayed by the wind. The gateways had extensive architecture and tales of Neelambargarh’s rich past and kings, engraved in stones, alongside nymphs and the several forms of their chief deity, The Wind, and his tales of miracles. Above the gate in local scriptures was poetry written in honour of the past kings. Even the street-side lamps, carved in stone, had faces of animals like elephants and tigers on them. The streets were cobbled and every household had very bright doorways painted with pictures of animals, warriors and scenery. The streets were crowded with civilians who erupted in joy the moment they saw their Rajkumari Priyambada on a brown horse, riding up the winding road, in a white and golden drape that hung behind her, gently swaying in a perfect rhythm with the tail of the horse she rode. They didn’t care about the prince of Suryapali or anyone else. Their faith was in their princess. Rajkumari Priyambada waved at the crowd, filled with mixed emotions. She had escaped the fort like a fugitive, with the guilt of abandoning her people. She came back as the hope in their eyes. She wouldn’t let them down. Not this time.
Ishaan Dev looked mesmerised at the accuracy of the architecture and sheer flawlessness in every nook and corner of the fort that caught his layman’s eyes. He hadn’t even entered the fort when they had conquered it; the Rajadhiraj did the honours of placing their flag as per the traditions then. He looked awestruck at the sight before his eyes. Ishaan Dev’s mesmerising gaze met Priyambada’s proud smile as she rode up beside him. The two days' journey had been tiring, but the moment the fort was visible in the skyline like an island visible at sea, she had found new strength and joy. She couldn’t help but wonder what a tragedy it would have been if the rather plain Suryapalians decided to tear down every piece of art her ancestors had dressed Neelambargarh up with. She glanced over her shoulder at Ishaan Dev, who was in awe of her land. Tradition said the king rode into a kingdom before anyone else. But Ishaan Dev didn’t mind falling behind Priyambada by a few gallops as she rode into the cheering crowd, while he observed his new surroundings. He knew they wanted her. Did it intimidate him? Perhaps a little. But Ishaan Dev had decided to trust her for a change. Though he was sure the Suryapalians accompanying them on the journey would disapprove. Priyambada’s eyes fell on the golden lion that now flew high, instead of the fiery red flag. Ishaan Dev’s eyes travelled with hers to the dome. He stopped his horse as the drums and trumpets stopped. Priyambada frowned, glancing over her shoulder as he addressed Devdoot, who got down from his horse and ran somewhere. She looked at Ishaan Dev with questioning eyes as he got down from the horse, straightening his red drape as he approached her horse. 
“Get down.” He said, giving her his hand, as she eyed the crowd. Was it some trick? She had her guard up as she got down, without giving him her hand.
“Why did we stop here?” She asked as Devdoot came back with something. Priyambada’s face was pale. Ishaan Dev handed over the red flag to her and stared at the empty pole beside Suryapali’s flag. 
“Do the honours.” He said, pushing the flag of Neelambargarh in her hands. Priyambada’s hand trembled a little. She touched the flag to her forehead and then to her lips before she got up on the dome, as thousands of people witnessed the scene, and she placed the flag on the empty pole. They watched it fly high, as the crowd cheered. Never in her life, or perhaps of anyone living in Neelambargarh, did they ever imagine they would see a day when the Suryapalian flag would fly alongside the Neelambargarhi one in sync. This was the beginning of a new Era. 

The palace with its mighty five storeys was visible at the turn of every corner in the planned-out city, as they reached its gates. The magnificence of the palace spoke of the invincible, rich past that Ishaan Dev was proud to have conquered. Priyambada looked up at the heavily guarded walls and couldn’t help but wonder if Ishaan Dev truly was a great warrior to have been able to breach her capital’s security. As much as she hated giving him any credit and believed it was their fault, she couldn’t help but wonder. The wooden gates of the palace with metal spears on them were flung open, and their horses entered the premises. Priyambada’s throat felt dry as they approached the very first Temple on the premises, dedicated to the Lord she worshipped. She had always stopped by to seek blessings on her way in and out of the palace without fail. Priyambada stopped her horse. Following her cue, the troops behind her slowed down, and Ishaan Dev watched her get down from the horse and put the drape on her head as she approached the black stone steps of the shrine. She stopped at the first step and looked back at him, with a frown on her face. A reluctant Ishaan Dev got down from his horse as the troops exchanged glances. A beautiful tree of the celestial Parijaat, veiled in white flowers with an aromatic smell, fell over the side of the temple, and the breeze often made the flowers naturally fall at the Lord’s sanctum. The pillars across the temple premises had exquisite carvings of stories, of the Lord’s wrath, his dancing and his blessing. In front of the sanctum sat the stone-carved bull who heard all prayers. Ishaan Dev folded his hands as he glanced over to his side, watching Priyambada pray, eyes closed and hands folded. Priyambada remembered Trinayani Devi’s words. She was here to serve her people, and that would mean cooperating with Ishaan Dev for it. There was no point getting into loggerheads with him and losing the importance she could have to influence his decision on her people. She prayed for strength and patience to make her father and brother proud.


The troops selected to serve Ishaan Dev were not all from Suryapali. Some of them were prisoners of war from Neelambargarh itself who had voluntarily surrendered. Ishaan Dev decided to include them in the troops that would serve their country again. He also convinced some of the old Neelambargarh nobles on the same. Priyambada’s faith in her people wanting the best for their motherland made him talk to the nobles and troops who were held as prisoners of war and turn them to his side. A king was nothing without his talented team of ministers. He needed to find his. 


“I have my faith in you to make him feel comfortable there. The better he is, the better he serves your people.” Although Trinayani Devi had said it with a smile, to Priyambada’s ears it rang like a warning. She sighed and moved away silently towards the Talab beside the temple. She stood there, wondering, as the palace reflected on its rippling water. Ishaan Dev silently followed her there, keeping his distance. He knew the kind of conflicting emotions she might be fighting. He wanted her to ease out. She was undoubtedly the most important member of the cabinet he needed at this point in time in an alien land. 

“Ah, the palace looks like a maze,” he tried to wonder aloud to break the uncomfortable silence that looked like the beginning of a storm.

“It is not that difficult once you know the nooks and corners.” She spoke almost defensively. “There are maps.”

“ A tour around could help.” He suggested making her sigh.

“Fine.” She said, walking past him. Ishaan Dev smiled, knowing, keeping her occupied, or even perhaps irked with him, could make the storm in her heart and mind ease away with time.


Rajkumari Priyambada walked on foot from the temple to the palace premises and stood at the threshold of the elephant gates, looking straight toward the public courtroom. 

“That is where the public comes with grievances. Only the king and the chief of ministers are allowed here.” She pointed at the elevated pavilion acting as a canopy over a marble throne. She crossed over the threshold, fighting back her tears, with a brave face, as Ishaan Dev signalled the troops to fall back and followed her inside. The maids, guided by Urvi, followed them in, as the servant started to move things inside as per Devdoot’s instructions. The troops were guided to the quarters outside the courtyard, where they could find stables for their horses and restrooms for themselves. 


“That way is the Inner House, but first…” She walked across the court of appearance and pushed open a door. It opened into a dark passage illuminated by only the light coming from air ventilators.

“ To the left are the weaponry chambers, in case of emergency.” She pointed, “To the right are the stairs leading upstairs to the semi-private areas on the first floor. The nobles have access to it along with their family. Come along.” She walked swiftly through the corridor and up the narrow, steep stairs. Ishaan Dev noticed the proximity at which he was going up the steps, resulting in his head accidentally touching her drape twice when he fell back a little. He didn’t want to upset her on their very first day in the kingdom.


Throughout the two days of the journey, the troops had barely seen the Adhiraja and Maharani interact, except for one time when he held the map of Neelambargarh in the wrong direction, and she was quick to correct it. Today, she entered the palace where she once lived and immediately took over her duties as the queen of Suryapali had expected of her. She didn’t care if he was listening or not; she was just doing her job. Ishaan Dev observed her as she walked through the nooks and corners with complete ease. The staircase opened to a corridor, one side of which was an open courtyard. 

“You see, this is an illusion that will make you feel like we were in the basement.” She pointed at the courtyard. “This is the place for private classical music concerts. Not sure how purposeful it would be to your dancers.” The taunt in her voice was evident. Priyambada was not sure why his concubines and dancers weren’t accompanying them, but she didn’t want to care.

“Perhaps I can try music for a change.” Ishaan Dev retorted in the same tone as hers.

“Oh, you won’t understand it.” She shook her head as his jaws tightened. She increased her pace and reached the other wing. 

“This is the nobleman's courtroom. Women of the house are allowed till this point.” She spoke with clear disapproval in her voice. There had been so many times a young Priyambada ran through these very corridors and towards the public courtroom to catch a glimpse of proceedings and was stopped by her wetnurses here. She never knew why.

“You don’t seem to approve of it.” He said observantly.

“I come from a school of thought that allows women to rule. So this rule doesn’t make sense to me.” She spoke genuinely. “Prithvi would have done away with…” She stopped and gulped down a lump in her throat. In one weak moment, she had seen his sympathy. She didn’t want his sympathy to be a regular part of their equation; she much preferred his respect or hatred.

“That is the map room.” She pushed open the door where shelves of old maps were preserved. “There is not a corner of the kingdom this map room doesn’t cover.” She said, sliding open another door,  “and that of enemies.” Ishaan Dev walked in eagerly and touched the shelf marked “Suryapali.” He took out a map and observed the accuracy. Priyambada smiled. 

“I used to study maps as a hobby. I could close my eyes and point to any…” Her words wandered off.

“Try Padakhs.” Priyambada looked up at his challenging tone. That was a small town in his kingdom. She closed her eyes as he spread the map on the table. She let her fingers wander and stopped at a point. Ishaan Dev appeared impressed as she smiled victoriously. “To the next room then.” She walked ahead, allowing him to follow. 

“This is the games chamber. We have pasha, snake ladders and… weapons for kids.” She smiled gently, touching one of the wooden swords as though they had memories.

“That’s the practice arena in the back.” She pointed from the corridor. “Separate for men and women.”

“That side of the corridor is for political guests.” 

She reached the stairs again. “That door leads from outside straight to this other staircase into the Inner Palace on the upper floors.” She led him inside; they crossed by a large room full of paintings of “Patronages.” She said, “We support artists.” Then one with musical instruments. 

“The royals learned music here.” She pointed.

“Did you?”His question made her stop.

“The Veena.” She said without glancing over her shoulders. “That side is the kitchen and storage area, we can store essentials for up to six months in there and behind it, the quarters for maids and servants. Upstairs now.”


When Priyambada reached the royal residential floor, her heart made a small leap, and her eyes felt teary. That was the last corridor she walked before… She inhaled. 

“Rajkumari.” Urvi bowed as she turned around. Ishaan Dev noticed her face was grim and looked away. 

“I have arranged the cooking utensils, ration and cooks. Will you decide on a menu?” Urvi’s question made Priyambada look a bit wide-eyed. She had seen her mother do that. She had been trained to run a household by the time she was fourteen. But now, weeks away from her fourteenth birthday, was she even ready?

“Umm… start off with something, I will go inspect. I want to make something for the Lord … as I used to.” Her words made Urvi smile as Ishaan Dev looked up at her.

“You can… cook?” He asked as Urvi looked away. 

“Why? Someone who can swing a sword can’t cook?” Her words came out almost like a rebuke.

“I will take your leave, Rajkumari.” Urvi bowed as she nodded.

“Urvi.” Ishaan Dev stopped her, making Priyambada look up at him.

“It's Maharani of Neelambargarh. Not Rajumari anymore.” Ishaan Dev’s words made Priyambada look shocked and pale. Maharani of Neelambargarh. That was my mother. I was never… I could never…

“I apologise to Your Highness.” Urvi bowed with a smile. “It’s Maharani indeed!”

“No.” Priyambada made them look up at her. “Address me as you did Urvi.” She said as her jaws tightened, and Urvi bowed and left in a hurry. Ishaan Dev was about to open his mouth to protest as she spoke again. “To be the king or queen of anywhere, one needs to work for it and earn that respect. A crown on someone’s head doesn’t make him worthy of the respect of a king.”

She turned and walked away towards the corridor as Ishaan Dev stopped for a while, frowning at her words. Every word from her mouth seemed like a challenge to prove himself. Ishaan Dev shook off the egoistic urge to prove his worth to her and moved ahead, behind her, as she entered the private chambers.


Priyambada stopped at the threshold of the biggest of the chambers. The walls of it were painted blue and had paintings of gods and goddesses above. “This is the king’s.” She spoke without entering the room. 

“And the queen’s?” She gave a melancholic smile at Ishaan Dev’s question.

“My mother didn’t have a separate chamber.” Ishaan Dev frowned at her words.

“They don’t have separate living chambers? What about the other queens?” His words made her look up at him and back at the room. 

“There aren't any other queens.”

“Pardon?” Ishaan Dev frowned in disbelief. “I mean your father’s…”

“In Neelambargarh, we practise monogamy and we believe someone married once is a soulmate for life.” Priyambada looked away “So there is no purpose for…” She stopped to inhale. “You can rest, Devdoot will assist your men for the needful.” She stepped back. 

“You…” Ishaan Dev looked awkward.

“I will find my old bedroom. Urvi will set it up just as before.” She reassured as her voice trailed and she walked down the corridor, Ishaan Dev followed.

“Priyambada. Wait!!” He stopped her. “I think you should have your parents’ room.” His words made her look up at his face. “I don’t want to ruin their memories for you.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.” Priyambada was firm, “It's the rule that the biggest chamber…”

“I am the king now. I make the rules.” Ishaan Dev cut her short. “You take it. That’s an order.”

“You can’t order me.” She frowned, “ I won’t give you my old room.”

“Then I will find another one.” He shrugged. Priyambada inhaled.

“Why do you want me to have that room so adamantly?” She asked almost in a murmur.

“Because I know you want to preserve the memory of your father and your brother. We could have been rivals, but I knew Kumar Prithvi was a brave warrior. You have every right to be proud of him and preserve his memories. I won’t ruin his or your father’s memories. You cooperated with me so much, this is the least I could do for our deal.” He nodded reassuringly. Priyambada fought back her tears.

“Thank you.” His brows shot up as she murmured the words.

“Did I hear that right?” he asked, tauntingly.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Let me show you Priyam Dev’s room, you can renovate it to your will.” Her words made him look up as she ordered one of the maids to shift her things into her parents' chamber.

“What about the upper storey?” He asked.

“There are private gardens there. A terrace garden only for the ladies, and a lawn and garden area for the royal men. A window of appearance and a hidden passageway for the women to see the happenings of the public court from above. And the watchtowers. Would you like to see them too?” She asked.

“No, I feel tired from the journey, and I guess so do you. I will have my lunch in the room and retire.” Ishaan Dev spoke and was about to leave. “I thank you for the tour.”

“Can I ask for something?” Her words made him frown. When did she start asking for things?

“The Maharani told me I am in charge of the inner palace, and its decisions are mine, but they still need your approval. I won’t say it happens like that in Neelambargarh, but… anyway…” She shrugged, making him glance at her.

“I want Devdoot to be the chief of guards within the premises of the palaces, especially looking after the royal security. And I want Urvi as my housekeeper. I know they were just my bodyguard and maid yesterday, but…”

“You trust them.” Ishaan Dev cut her short. “Forget what the Maharani told you the rules were.” He shook his head, making her look a little surprised. “Neelambargarh will have its own rules. So next time you take any decision for the inner palace that doesn’t directly concern me, you don’t need to involve me. The Maharani here has the autonomous right to do that.” Priyambada frowned slightly at his word, as he used her new title, making her uncomfortable with the kind of trust and authority he was giving her. She nodded and walked away towards the kitchen area to let Urvi and Devdoot know of their new roles.


Ishaan Dev walked into his new chambers, trying to settle into the surroundings, took a bath that the servants prepared and finally put on a light robe to relax for a bit when Devdoot appeared at the threshold and bowed. Unlike before, now Ishaan Dev found him to be the only familiar and non-judgmental person around and nodded at his arrival. “Rajkumari… The Maharani has asked for an audience.” Ishaan Dev frowned at his words. They had just met. What did she want now? He nodded as Devdoot left, and a few minutes later, he could sense Priyambada approaching with her jewellery jingling in the corridor of the otherwise quiet midday. He fastened the robe around his waist and stood up as Priyambada arrived at the threshold. She was still in her morning attire and hadn’t quite seemed to have rested since she arrived. Ishaan Dev’s attention was immediately drawn to the scroll in her hand. As she walked in, she offered him the scroll, and he opened it, unsurely to find the Doctrine of Neelambargarh written on top. It dated back a few centuries, and as his eyes hovered over the cursive, he could now sense it was a set of laws meant for the land, its administration and kings.

“For thousands of years, my clan, with the blessing of the Wind that gives us air to breathe, has served and protected this holy land and its people. My great-grandfather had the doctrines rewritten from the ancient form to this so that the laws of Neelambargarh don’t get lost. I know we are no longer free to rule at our own will, but it was my duty, as the last of my clan, to hand this over to you.” Priyambada’s voice sounded emotionless, but as Ishaan Dev observed her, her eyes sparkled a little. “Whether you honour it or not…”

“I will read through it immediately and make changes if needed.” Ishaan Dev’s words made her stop as he touched the doctrine to his forehead. “These words have come down centuries from the gods themselves, and I personally don’t think the Wind and Sun fight a lot.” Priyambada looked up at his words with slightly narrowed brows. Was he making a joke right now? “Very well.” She continued in her formal tone. “There are a few things we do… did…” She stopped to clear her throat as she continued, “Different from your land and if you want, I am just going to…”

“Have a seat.” Ishaan Dev sank back on the chaise beside his bed and offered her a seat opposite him. “This will take longer.” Priyambada was immediately intimidated by the fact that she was in his chambers. 

“We should discuss it somewhere appropriate.” She said reluctantly, as a faint smile curved his lips as if he could read her mind and was amused. 

“Maharani, take a seat.” His voice was more of a command as Priyambada’s jaws tightened. The last thing she wanted was an issue on the first day. She wanted to serve her land, and this could be a hindrance. Priyambada silently took the seat and continued. 

“Our land has a cabinet of ministers like that in Suryapali, as you know. But we also have a council of intellectuals.” Ishaan Dev frowned at her words. “A council? What is their purpose?”

“Well, these are greatly learned men from different fields of life who voluntarily ask to be part of the administration and give advice to the monarch. Eminent writers, philosophers, economists, war experts…” Priyambada’s voice had a hint of pride “There are many such learned men in Neelambargarh ready to serve the king. Because we believe even kings make mistakes and it is the duty of those who are well read to question their decisions.” Ishaan Dev nodded in agreement, and it wasn’t what Priyambada expected. “So, if you want, we can keep the council.”

“Oh, we will keep the council, of course, I will also summon applications from such men of Suryapali.” Priyambada looked up at his words, her face had a hint of amusement as if she believed that Suryapali didn’t produce such great men. Ishaan Dev ignored that as she continued. “There will also be an interview with candidates applying for ministry and other positions like that of chiefs, generals and chief of arms.” Ishaan Dev nodded. “Yes, I summoned them in the evening after I had rested.” Priyambada took that as an indication that it was time for her to leave. “Thank you for your time.” She got up and turned to leave when Ishaan Dev stood up. “Thank you for trusting me with the doctrine.” His words made her stop at the threshold. “Like I had a choice,” Priyambada said between her teeth and left.


Unfamiliar places made Adhiraja Ishaan Dev toss and turn, alert even as he dozed off. He couldn’t help but wonder how he wanted Priyambada to adapt to the enemy land in a matter of days, while he was struggling without a threat on the very first day. He got up and called on Devdoot.

“Tell the Maharani, the Adhiraja has summoned her to the nobleman's courtroom.” Devdoot looked up at his words and hurried away at the dismissive gesture of his hands.


Priyambada was in the palace kitchen, scrutinising the dinner process with Urvi. She added the ingredients of rice pudding into a bowl and stirred it. She always cooked for the Lord herself. Then the rest of it was eaten at dinner. Small droplets of sweat appeared on her forehead as Urvi walked up to her.

“You have just come from a journey, Rajkumari. Let me…”

“No, Urvi, it's been months since I served him myself. Let me…” They stopped seeing Devdoot at the threshold.


Priyambada was unsure as to why she was summoned. She had no idea that he had chosen or short-listed his ministers, nor did she expect him to ask for her opinion. Priyambada walked into the courtroom, all eyes on her as she approached Ishaan Dev, sitting in the golden high chair with questioning eyes. 

“Have a seat.” He gestured at the identical chair beside his, meant for the heir-apparent, as she stopped. She wasn’t supposed to take that seat.

“I summoned some of your old ministers and ministerial candidates alongside some of my people from Suryapali, whom I trust to form a cabinet of ministers for Neelambargarh.” Priyambada looked up to notice a few familiar faces in the crowd smiling at her. “I want your opinion on it to interview them and assess them. I want it to be a joint decision.” The men in the courtroom exchanged judgmental glances as Priyambada stared at Ishaan Dev, surprised.

“You … want me to…” She whispered almost to herself.

“Yes.” He said firmly, “After all, you will lead the cabinet as the official prime minister.”

A gasp escaped the courtroom as Priyambada’s jaws almost dropped inwardly, though she was quick not to let the surprise show on her face. Did she hear it right?

“Prime Minister?” Priyambada spoke, “But…”

“Your council is needed to run the empire, you are well capable of serving the best interest of Neelambargarh, so what is the point in not taking up the official position?”

Ishaan Dev’s words were met with silence.

“Shouldn’t we ask someone before…” She whispered unsurely. Ishaan Dev smiled amused.

“You mean like the Adhiraja of Neelambargarh?” He raised his eyebrows as her eyes reflected realisation.

“Very well, now that it's been dealt with'' Ishaan Dev addressed the men as she sat down on the chair in silence, “Anyone who doesn’t have a problem taking orders from the Maharani of Neelambargarh can step up and volunteer to be scrutinised for a position in the cabinet tomorrow morning.” Priyambada looked up at his words. Every time he mentioned the strange new title, it reminded her of her journey, her family and how she ended up here because of him. Was he trying to taunt her? Hurt her? But if that was the purpose, why make her a prime minister? Was it some kind of a trap? Priyambada couldn’t help but wonder, staring at the face of the man, in a royal purple robe, greeting the noblemen who were now showering him with gifts and praises. He was not easy to read. Priyambada still saw in him pieces of puzzles, layers of characters and surprising moves like those of chess that she failed to fit into his character. Did it intrigue her? Perhaps. Like a challenge, to reveal the true self of the man, the enemy, the king… the husband.



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Kalindi waited outside the hut, on the torn mat they usually slept on, using the hand fan to drive away mosquitoes as she stared at the empty path leading out of the house, the path Bondita had taken some time back. It was almost an hour. Did the foolish girl escape or land in trouble? To her relief, she could hear her nephew snoring away indoors, reassuring her that they were at least not caught by the villagers till now. She was sure Bondita would return empty-handed and hurt, and that she would have no other way than to accept the proposal from the Pradhan. That morning, her Kaka would accompany Sarkar Moshai to the adjacent village to talk to a family friend of the Sarkars. They were looking for a bride for their sixteen-year-old eldest son, who worked as a labourer in Sealdah. Kalindi had tears in her eyes. Not much had changed in these years; not much of women’s fate was different, wasn't it? Kalindi was about ten years old when her father took her to the Roy Chowdhury house ...

She Left...

The war was over and so were the hopes of regaining Chittor. The Battle at Haldighati had robbed the Rana of all his wealth, and brave men, and bruised him for life. Trying to match up to Akbar or rather Raja Man Singh's army with one-third its strength had cost his bravery dearly. He had lost his friend and companion. He had brushed past death. The only good thing that this war ensured was that Akbar accepted that he cannot have Mewar. His army retreated and left the country in peace after almost two decades and seventeen wars. This war gave something else too. Kunwar Shakti came to help his brother in his time of need. He lived up to his brother's expectations of being loyal to his family. A heavy-hearted Rana Pratap Singh was overseeing the construction work on his lost friend's memorial right where he died, trying to save his master. The Bronze statue of the life-like Chetak stood tall but was no match for the void Chetak has left behind. He was lost in his thoughts as ...

Purnota: Chapter Five

Aniruddha finished reading the book he had carried with him in the dim light of the bulb in his room and decided to pack it away. He was leaving in a few days and wanted to make sure he left nothing behind. The construction work on the school had started, and the Panchayat wanted to give him a thankful farewell he humbly refused. The spotlight should be on Trilochon to help with his next election campaign. Aniruddha did not want to associate himself with the party or the job. He contemplated going back home and telling his father that he had decided to pursue a career in India instead of his initial plan of going back to London. He had been giving it a thought for quite some time, and the day he said it out loud to Bondita, he knew in his subconscious mind he had already decided on it. The more he saw the village, the more sure he was that he was needed by his countrymen. Dadu put faith in him that he could be part of something bigger than himself and his career, and he intended to kee...

Purnota: Prologue

2008. Kolkata. The autumnal rain swept across the gravelled streets of Kolkata. In the darkest hour of the night, the occasional thunder rumbled across the sky, now covered in thick grey clouds. The street lights reflected on them as though a shower of golden light was flooding the streets of South Kolkata. It was widely believed that such torrential rain with thunderstorms just before the Durga Puja was a sign of Maa Durga having a marital spat with Baba Mahadev, whose possessiveness and love for his wife made him want to stop her from coming home with the four children for the five-day extravaganza. The rain was her tears, and the thunder rolls were the arguments between husband and wife. Such was the tale told by grandmothers across Bengal when the children flocked around her, scared of the thunder god’s wrath.  As the raindrops suddenly changed course and rushed into the room of the boarding house near Southern Avenue with a sudden gust of wind, she was jolted from this romanti...

Purnota: Chapter Two

“The car will not go beyond this point, Choto Malik .” The driver’s words forced Aniruddha to step out, and his feet landed in mud. “The wheels will get stuck. It seems like it rained a lot yesterday.” The driver added as he inspected the road in the dim light of the setting dusk.    “How far is the house?” Aniruddha frowned, contemplating. “I can walk.” “This is just the beginning of the area; we have to look for it.” The driver shrugged. “Should I bring out your luggage?” Aniruddha sighed. He had a trolley and a bag. How could he walk with them in the mud? Leaving the car there was not safe either. “Who are you looking for?” The childish voice came through the silence around them, though nobody could be seen. Aniruddha looked around, and so did the alarmed driver. “Whose house are you searching for?” The voice was heard again. The driver jumped back a few steps, saying, “ Bh… Bh… Bhoot… ” “What?” Aniruddha shook his head as the man looked scared “There is no such thing as…” ...

Purnota: Chapter One

“The cyclone that hit Bangladesh on May 2nd, 1994, has left parts of Bangladesh and Myanmar devastated. Landslides have been seen in and around Northeast India, and Dumdum Airport has resumed its function after two days. Fishermen are still prohibited from going into the sea. The winds reached up to 215 km/h…” The men grunted at the radio news while sitting on the bench of the tea stall in Kobi Bharat Chandra Road in Chandannagar. One of the older men put away the Ananda Bazar Patrika, picking up his glass of tea while some of the others looked through a notebook. One of them had thick spectacles on and a pen tucked behind his ear while the younger ones smoked cigarettes and debated about the India-Pakistan match at Sharjah, which Pakistan once again won by thirty-nine runs. “I am telling you, Poritosh Da, they cheated.” A young man said, letting out smoke. “No way they could have won the final had it not been at Sharjah.” “Oh, stop your theories. Nobody except Kambli stood up to them ...