Chapter Eighteen: Utopia

Sunday mornings were usually busy in the Gangopadhyay home, but with Upendra and Sharat away, Nonibala Debi could find some time to herself and sat down to make a good Paan to relax and read a book with. She could not understand why Abhaya was crying when she rushed into her room and hugged her. 
“What is wrong, Ma?” Nonibala Debi patted her oiled, braided hair gently as her Ghomta fell from her head. “Why are you crying? Someone scolded you?” Nonibala Debi frowned. 
“Yes.” Abhaya sobbed. “I don’t want to do maths. It is tough.” Nonibala Debi smiled, pressing her lips as she wiped away Abhaya’s tears and made her sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Did Swadhin scold you?” Nonibala Debi asked calmly.
“He comes home for two days and makes me study so hard,” Abhaya said in between sobs, “And scolds me.”
“How dare he?” Nonibala Debi nodded understandingly. “Let me set this right.”
Swadhin appeared at the threshold of Nonibala Debi’s room and spotted Abhaya there.
“There you are.” He said with a gasp. “How dare you leave mid-lesson?” Abhaya looked up at him with teary eyes.
“Did you make her cry?” Nonibala Debi kept away the Paan daan and asked. 
“She is so stupid that she can’t do simple calculations,” Swadhin said impatiently. “I have been teaching her all morning.” He glared at Abhaya, who hid her face in Nonibala Debi’s bosom as she held her.
“See.” She murmured in tears.
“Did you or did you not make her cry?” Nonibala Debi asked again. Swadhin sighed.
“I scolded her.” He inferred. “But because…”
“He said Gatta Khabe.” Abhaya quipped.
“Swadhin!” Nonibala Debi gasped. “Is that how you treat your new bride?” She shook her head. “I raised you better. Your father taught me too, so don't say you can’t be patient or gentle.”
“I explained it a million times.” Swadhin defended. Abhaya shook her head. “It is difficult.”
“If you can’t teach her without scolding her, I will appoint a tutor for her.” Nonibala Debi warned.
“No.” The protest came in unison as Nonibala Debi raised her eyebrows at her son and daughter-in-law, amused.
“There we go.” She said as they looked awkwardly. “I should hear no more scolding. Go study, Choto Bouma.”
Abhaya received reassuring pats on her head before she walked past Swadhin towards the bedroom. He shrugged at his mother’s amused smile and turned to follow.
“Be gentle with her.” His mother reminded him, “Her childishness is still intact.” Swadhin inhaled. The childishness which his mother found adorable was keeping him on his toes. 

Kashim was off to work with a harsh reminder to his wife.  “If Bashir comes back, lock him in the room if you have to; he owes Kabir a lot of money.”
“Perhaps if you were gentle with him…” Her words died on her lips as she drew the Ghomta. “Kabir Bhai, I have to go to the village hut to get a few things.” She turned to him as he stood up from the mat. “If you want Bhabhi, I can go with you.” He insisted. “Laali told me you aren’t doing well.” The woman shot her daughter with a warning glance. How could she tell the guest her mother was unwell? Wasn’t being unwell not an option for housewives? What if Kabir thought something of it?
“No, I will manage.” She insisted. “Keep an eye on her.” She eyed Laali and lowered her voice, “Heard that she caught the eye of one of the village goons. It scares me.” Kabir watched Laali cooking some vegetables as he nodded.
“Don’t worry, I will… keep an eye.” He insisted.

Laali served him rice with Palta Pata Bora on a banana leaf sometime in the middle of the afternoon.
“Eat, please, Chacha, Baba won’t be home till evening, and Ammu will be late too.” She took the leafy fan out of the hut to wave it while Kabir sat down to eat.
“What about you?” He asked. The girl shook her head, embarrassed. “I will eat later.”
“NO. You must eat now, I insist. I eat alone all the time. At least here I…” Kabir struck the right chord. Laali walked back to the kitchen and brought out a plate for herself. It had less rice and fewer vegetables. 
“You eat so little?” Kabir eyed her shyly, putting the morsel in her mouth. He sat opposite her and watched her eat as she apologised. “Tomorrow we will serve you fish.”
“This is fine for me.” Kabir lied. After they finished, Laali told him to rest in the hut while she went to the pond nearby to wash the utensils before she began cooking dinner. Kabir agreed at first, but the moment he sat down on the bed, he remembered her mother’s words. He felt uneasy and walked back through the village, tracing her path to the pond. On the way, he met a few acquaintances lamenting about his nephew asking about his job, and when he finally managed to brush them off and reach the pond, he heard a scream. It was Laali, no doubt. When he ran to the stairs on the bank, he saw three men kicking her utensils and pulling at her arms as she resisted.
“What is going on here?” Kabir roared, making the young men stop. Two of them ran while the other let go of Laali’s hand. 
“Who is this? Someone, you know?” The man grunted at Laali. “Doesn’t he know who I am?” Laali was teary and sweaty as she shivered in fear, eyeing Kabir, who walked down the stairs calmly in his lungi and torn-out vest and folded his arms to his chest.
“I am her family, who are you?” The man laughed at his words.
“You come to my village and ask me that? The Jomidar should know that people don’t know his right-hand man and dare to stop …”
“Go and tell him,” Kabir said calmly. “If he is ready to defend you in the Panchayat for abusing a girl on the pondside…” His face flushed. “I will come back for you,” he warned Laali, who moved back behind Kabir. Kabir watched the man leave as he picked up the scattered utensils.

“Are you alright?” he asked as Laali nodded. “Why is he after you?” Laali did not reply. Instead, she picked up the remaining utensils, tucked her saree neatly and followed him home in silence. Once they reached the kitchen and she set the utensils down, she started preparing more vegetables. Kabir stood at the threshold for a while and asked again. “Why is he after you?”
“Because I am not married.” Laali seemed oddly composed. “He wants… untouched women…” Kabir’s jaws tightened. 
“He deserves a good beating,” he shook his head.
“Who would dare do that?” Laali stood up and walked up to him. “They will be kicked out of the village.”
“You are not safe here.” Kabir frowned as he put his hand gently on the girl’s head. “Are you even alright after that?” Laali suddenly felt overwhelmed. Her parents’ only concern was to save her from the goon, but they never asked about how she felt.
“I feel dirty.” She sobbed as she confessed. “I feel nobody else would want me because he… he touched me… he violated me…”
“What did he do?” Kabir dreaded to ask as his throat went dry. Laali sobbed. “He touched me here.” She pointed at her chest. Kabir’s eyes fell briefly on her heaving youthful bosom as he looked away. “I never told my mother. She would throw me out…” Laali sobbed again. “He made me touch him, too.” Kabir cupped her chin and made her look up.
“Listen to me, Laali.” He said firmly. “You are not dirty. What he did to you was wrong, and you had no fault.” She shook her head as she sobbed, jerking his hand off her face as she hid her face in her hands.
“Who will believe me? Who will want me now?”

“Your chastity is not who you are.” Kabir protested. “It doesn’t matter if you've even been married before. Any man who can respect a woman would love to have a wife like you.” Kabir made her look up at him. 
“Do you truly believe that? Do you believe me?” Laali asked tearily. Kabir nodded.
“You are caring, responsible, gentle…” He could not continue as Laali hugged him.

Hiding her face in his chest, Laali could feel the smell of dirt and sweat. He patted her head unsurely. Kabir tried to move, but he was locked between the doorway and her body.
“It's okay,” he reassured her. Laali’s sobs reduced to sniffs as she looked up at him.
“I have never truly felt the touch of a man. I want to know what that feels like. When my friends visit home and tell me about their husbands, I can’t help but wonder what it feels like. If once, only once I could…” Laali suddenly looked up at the man she did not even know two days ago. In a few hours, he had been to her a protector, father figure, guide and friend she never had in her father or brother. Laali was overwhelmed with emotions. She stood tiptoeing, and before Kabir could speak again, she touched her lips to his. Kabir could taste the rice starch in her mouth and chapped lips. For a moment, he was confused. Then he shoved her away.

“What are you doing?” he asked as Laali looked flustered.
“I wanted to know what it feels like.” She said boldly. Kabir looked at her, a little bewildered. Had he misread the girl to be timid and coy? “You said it is not wrong.”
“Yes, but I am…” Kabir stuttered. “I am your uncle.”
“No, you are not.” Laali shook her head as she stepped forward. “And don’t lie to me that you did not like it.” Kabir was at a loss for words. He knew the rational thing to do would be to walk away and tell her she was mistaken. She was a child who needed to set her priorities right. That he did not mean… Kabir jolted as Laali touched his groin over his Lungi, and he could not resist getting hard. Laali smiled teasingly at him. Her eyes sparkled as she whispered. “You can’t lie to me with words when I can see you reacting…”
“Stop.” He shook his head. “It is wrong and …” He could not finish his words as she lifted his lungi, and her hand was on his skin. “What are you doing?” he pleaded. 
“Imagine I am someone else. Someone you want. But cannot have.” Laali whispered in his ear, and Kabir could instantly picture someone in his mind. He let his thoughts stray as he watched Laali lower herself and kneelt before him. Soon, he could feel her tongue and lips on him. Kabir closed his eyes and groaned. He could think of the consequences later. He raised her by her hair as Laali still wore a teasing smile.
“I don’t know why you are doing this.” He grunted, “But …”
“I want to know what it feels like. Nothing more, I promise.” She undid her anchol and her dusky bosoms were perky with excitement. 
“What if someone comes back?” Kabir asked as he fondled her. Laali let out a moan at his touch and shook her head. “I know when they will be back, we have an hour.”

Kabir tasted her as she watched him. He then lifted her saree and checked that she was ready for him. “Are you sure? Your first time should be…” He asked while planting kisses on her neck and shoulder.
“I am sure nobody needs to know.” Kabir lifted her light body and carried her to the bed. He had resisted his urges for too long. What was the harm if Laali wanted it too? What was the harm if, like she said, when he thrust into her and she moaned, he closed his eyes and imagined it was Meera he was making love to? Occasionally, when he opened his eyes and saw Laali moaning in pain and pleasure, he was drawn back to reality, but his mind was swayed as Laali pulled him closer to match his thrust. Something told him she was not who he thought she was. She knew exactly what she was doing. This was not her first time, as she claimed it to be. Should Kabir be more aware and let his guard up? Perhaps some other time. He was close. She was close. He could feel her inner thighs contracting. Kabir groaned as he reached climax. They lay panting beside each other for some time, when Laali got up to wrap the saree around her as he watched her.
“They will be back soon.” She said in a rather cold tone. “We can continue tomorrow.” She picked up the lungi and threw it at Kabir.

Swadhin walked into the room after dinner to spot Abhaya perched on the bed, with a copy and swaying to and fro as she memorised the tables he had noted down for her. He sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I did not scold you so much that you would go to Maa and complain.” He said as she stopped swaying to eye him. “Everyone is scolding me.”
“You said Gatta Khabe.” Abhaya frowned. “I am scared of …”
“You think I was going to hit you?” Swadhin sounded disappointed. “I was just scaring you.”
“How can you teach someone if they are afraid of you?” Abhaya’s words silenced Swadhin. Abhaya immediately wore a smile of victory on her face as he frowned.
“You cried deliberately to have me scold He narrowed his brows as Abhaya’s smile widened. 
“I guess it worked.” She grinned.
“I want the tables to be learned by heart next week when I come by.” Swadhin reminded her. Abhaya nodded. She watched him from the corner of her eyes, packing his small trunk with fresh clothes and dumping the ones he brought back home for laundry. He also took with him two storybooks from the shelf. Swadhin could sense her watching him go around the room to pack his things when Abhaya closed her books.
“Let me pack your trunk.” She insisted. 
“No, I can do it myself. I have been for…” He stopped as she got down from the bed and started removing all his clothes from the trunk.
“No wonder they get wrinkled since you keep them this way. I used to help Boudidis when they packed for Borda or…umm… Baba.” Her hand did not stop at the work as Swadhin stood there behind her, watching her. She looked around and snatched the shirt Swadhin had picked up from his hands and started folding it. “You did it because you had nobody to do it for you.” Swadhin quietly agreed. He smiled faintly.
“And what will I do when you find Didi and decide to leave?” Abhaya did not answer. She did not want to repeat herself. It was not her job to reassure him.
“Don’t forget to pack the books. I'd better sleep.” Swadhin eyed the clock and yawned, removing his glasses. 
“Can I ask you something?” Abhaya asked without looking up as Swadhin turned to his side and lay facing her. “What is the mission about?” Her words made Swadhin’s throat feel dry. Was she prying?
“What mission?” he asked. Abhaya glanced over her shoulder. 
“I was sorting through laundry, and I found a bill. Renu said Naw Da works there…”
“Oh, that.” Swadhin tried to casually shrug it off. “Yes, Baba and he help and volunteer. What about it?” He asked as Abhaya shook her head. 
“Just curious, have you been there too?” Swadhin looked up at her words. 
“No.” He lied, deliberately closing his eyes so that she stopped questioning him. He wondered what she knew and whether he should alert Naw Da. Was Abhaya out there looking for clues? Was it not expected? He could not expect her to forget everything and move on in three weeks. Swadhin grunted inwardly. He had to be careful. For his father’s sake.

When Abhaya finished packing the trunk, she got up from the floor and watched him sleep. She picked up the laundry and immediately realised that the clothes smelled of him. They smelled of the reassurance she missed throughout the week. Abhaya checked the pockets and found a handkerchief. It was embroidered and smelled of perfume. Abhaya drew it closer to her nose for the smell of roses, when she realised it smelled a bit like him too. Abhaya eyed Swadhin asleep on the bed and suddenly had an amused smile, thinking of Nonibala Debi scolding him for her. She kept the handkerchief in the drawer Swadhin had cleared out for her things and set the others down to be taken by the maid to the washer. Abhaya came back to lie down on her side of the bed. She eyed the four-poster bed, the ceiling in its decorations, the whirling fan and the clock. She could feel his breath on her shoulder. Abhaya suddenly felt a little empty in the pit of her stomach. Last week, when he left, Abhaya found the room feeling too empty on Monday night. She shrugged off the feeling as a habit of two days. She was dreading that feeling again. She turned to her side, facing him as Swadhin snored softly. His words came back to her. He did not want to get used to her or make the coexistence a habit. Why? For her or himself?

Words and Explanation:
Gatta: Teachers and elder siblings often hit younger ones on their foreheads with the knuckles instead of hitting them. It's called Gatta in Bengali.