Chapter Fifteen: Initiation

Mohini was pacing Kalyani’s room in the darkness of the night as the faint light of the Kerosene lamp made her shadow flicker and dance on the wall. Kalyani’s face was grim as she watched Mohini contemplating.

“ I was so focused on Nithercot Saab.” She shook her head in whispered regret at last. “Now, how do I get to Jones Sa’ab and make him trust me?” Mohini eyed Kalyani ``He sees me as his boss’s mistress.” Kalyani inhaled.

“What does Sharat Babu say?” She asked. Mohini shrugged. “He skipped coming here this weekend, so I have no other way but to wait for him.”

“I know their address.” Kalyani said, “You can write…”

“No.” Mohini said firmly, “The first rule of the anarchists is not to leave a paper trail.” She made Kalyani stare, “How can you communicate without a…” Mohini flashed a proud smile as she sat down beside her.

“We have established a network all over Didi. Without any papers. From Chattagram to Medinipur, from Purulia to …”

“But why…” Kalyani asked eagerly. 

“The Imperialists work on proof. Without proof, they have to let our brothers and sisters go.” Kalyani nodded at Mohini's words. “That is quite intelligent.”

“Do you know any revolutionaries? Chittaranjan Das? Arabindo Ghosh?” Mohini’s eyes twinkled as Kalyani looked confused. “I know nobody.” She shook her head. Mohini gasped. “Every Bangali knows them now, Didi. The anarchists say he helps them out, although he is a congressman. There was a bombardment at Alipore, where Arabindo Ghosh was arrested a few years back. I was just a teen then. I remember how they raided Sonaganchi, Chitpur and Metia Bruz for hidden revolutionaries back then. Every nook was to be searched, but our women are stronger than any police force in the world. They would never let these Goras walk over their temples of earning.” Kalyani looked a little confused at Mohini’s proud voice and exhaled.

“I was naive enough to offer my help, you know. But I don’t know a thing. I have never been brave. No wonder he laughed at my suggestion.” Mohini held Kalyani’s hand as her face turned grim. “Oh, Didi. Don’t be naive, I also learned. You will too. All I need to know now is to  figure Jones out myself before Sharat da comes by next week.”

“You said he talked to you, right?” Kalyani suddenly asked. Mohini nodded.

“Not like a Babu or Gora Didi, he sounded like I was some Ustad Ji he was praising.” Mohini sounded amused. “Talked of dance and art.”

“You can befriend him.” Kalyani’s face lit up as Mohini chuckled, amused.

“Have you ever heard of a Nautch girl befriending a Babu?” She shook her head. “If I talk more than intended with him, Nithercot will surely give me a good beating. Worse, he will no longer invite Jones Sa’ab to the Mehfil.” Mohini frowned. “He is a shrewd, jealous man.”

“And you cannot … umm…” Kalyani could not let herself utter what she implied. “Attract him?” Mohini smiled, amused.

“You mean seduce Jones Sa’ab?” He has not taken a single girl in any of the Mehfils. Worse, he barely looks at me when he talks.”

“Seems like a gentleman,” Kalyani seemed surprised. “This Jones Sa’ab.”

“Yes, a diamond in a coal mine.” Mohini nodded. “Not helping my cause.”

“But when Nithercot said the papers were with him…”

“I have to somehow get myself into his home,” Mohini exclaimed. “I have to do this even if I get caught.” Kalyani gasped as Mohini looked charged up and pumped her fist in the air as her eyes sparkled. “I vow that to the motherland.”

“Please don’t get caught.” Kalyani’s voice trembled. Mohini eyed her with a faint smile.

“I feel so blessed that you care, Didi. But don’t you worry, if I think I will get caught, I will drink poison.” She made Kalyani gasp. “I will never endure the torture or death sentence.”

“Don’t say all that.” Kalyani shook her head, closing her ears with her hand. “Let Sharat come, and then you can decide.” She knew Mohini was not convinced.

The whole day of frenzy seemed to go by in a daze for Swadhin. He had to endure the teasing of his sisters and wear a new Khaddar Panjabi; his Mama got him. He had to sit through rituals he did not believe in, and now, amidst the whispers and giggles of teasing cousins and siblings, he was pushed into his room, where the bed was decorated with Tube roses, jasmine and roses, and he stumbled as the door closed behind him. Abhaya was standing by the window, staring out, lost in thought, in her red Benarasi saree and bridal look with all the gaudy jewellery that Bimala and Protima had dressed her up in. She eyed him once, hearing him stumble and looked away once again. Swadhin looked awkward as he cleared his throat, straightened his panjabi and locked the door as the giggles could still be heard outside.

“You can change if you want to.”

“What?” Abhaya looked a little taken aback and shocked as her face turned red and her eyes widened as she turned to him.

“No, no, no.” he shook his head. “I mean…” He gulped. “You can take all the gaudy jewellery off as it… umm… can make you uneasy later… umm… I mean, when you sleep… ugh… Never mind.” He shook his head and proceeded to open his watch as Abhaya stood at the corner, holding her breath, watching him. A sudden fear crept in as her hand tightened around the grill of the window. What was he implying?

Swadhin did not look up at her since he had arrived. He had only glanced at her briefly during the Satyanarayan Puja when he was told to put sindoor on her hairline. It was already drawn with sindoor, and he had to put it on still. His face looked uneasy, and it had settled Abhaya’s fears that he was not interested in her. But now... She watched him undo the gold buttons of his panjabi, grab another one from the rack and open the Khaddar one rather easily. Although he had a vest under it, Abhaya turned away as her heart raced in fear. 

“I… am fine.” She said firmly. “In the jewellery.” She was not, and the saree was too heavy. She knew there were people outside their door, and she could not command him to walk out so that she could change. Perhaps when he slept… Abhaya was unsure. What if he was pretending? She eyed him again. What did he expect from the night? To take her as his wife for real? What if he did? What could she do? Protest? Resist? Abhaya’s eyes filled with tears. She could not. She had to give in to whatever he wanted. Just like her mother used to tell her. Hearing her sniff alarmed Swadhin as he straightened the Batik-printed Panjabi he had now changed into.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, and Abhaya did not answer. She turned herself firmly towards the window, and the sniff turned into a sob. Alarmed, Swadhin walked up to her.

“Don’t cry like that. Someone would hear you.” He placed his hand on her shoulder gently and pleaded. “What is wrong?” She jerked his hand away with a shrug and looked at him with teary red eyes filled with discomfort and hatred. Swadhin stepped back as if an electric current ran through his body as he inhaled and looked at Abhaya, looking away.

“I … was going to tell you two things which I can't do if you don’t stop crying.” He shook his head and sat down on the bed, with his legs folded and the dhuti lifted to his knee. “So finish crying fast.” Abhaya gasped at his words as she narrowed her brows, and the round red bindi on her forehead looked like an egg with ripples. “Why are you so inhumanly cold?”

“You won’t tell me why you are crying, so how can I help?” He shrugged with a yawn. “I had a very busy day after a train journey. I am tired and need to sleep.” A sudden relief swept across Abhaya’s face as she turned to face him, eyes still watery. “Tell me what you wanted to say.” She insisted.

“Stop crying first. Wipe the tears.” He commanded. Abhaya used her alta-clad hands in a hurry to wipe her face and smudge the kohl, Laali and bindi in the process.

Swadhin pressed his lips, watching her, trying to hold back a laugh and failing. “Why are you laughing at me?” She frowned. Swadhin sprang up from his seat, took her by her hand as she did not resist and made her stand in front of the newly placed mirror in the room. “See for yourself,” he chuckled. “You look like a Petni.” Abhaya gasped, a little embarrassed as she picked up a cloth from the dresser, dipped it in the jar of water and began to remove the mess she had made on her face. Swadhin stopped chuckling and proceeded rather discreetly to remove the petals from the bed as Abhaya watched his reflection in the mirror. She then stared at herself in the mirror. Her jewellery was indeed gaudy, and she could never sleep in it. She started removing them one by one. First the tikli, then the sitahaar, then the bangles. Swadhin eyed her over his shoulder and shook his head. “I was saying the same thing.”

“Now, will you tell me what you have to say, because I stopped crying?” She demanded as he completed making the bed. Swadhin inhaled.

“Curiosity kills the cat.” He said as Abhaya stared blankly at his English.

“Huh?” Her brows lifted. 

“It means if you are overly curious, it kills you. It's an idiom.” Swadhin proceeded to open his trunk and look for something.

“I know, Idiot.” Abhaya announced, “My father said that to me all the time.” His hand stopped as he eyed her face. There was no pain reflected on her face as she remembered her father. That was a first. “He said I am good for nothing.”

“He lied.” Swadhin stood up to face her as he said firmly. “Idioms are not idiots,” he added. “Here. You can start your lessons now,” he held out a wrapped brown packet, which Abhaya took and placed on the table. “Open it,” he insisted. Inside were pens, pencils, erasers, sharpeners, rulers, notebooks, and books with drawings on them.

“BornoPorichoy.” Abhaya pointed at the known cover. “I was taught…” She stopped as she remembered Niranjan.

“I bought everything since I did not know how much you know.” Swadhin was quick to add as she sat down on the chair, turned the leaf of the book and smelled it. Swadhin smiled at her as she looked up at him. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me yet. I am a very strict teacher.” He said, folding the sleeves of his panjabi. “We start tomorrow.”

Abhaya smiled, amused as Swadhin narrowed his eyes. “Why are you amused now?”

“Naw Da said you were his worst student.” Abhaya’s smile widened “He said I should take his help.” Swadhin gasped and shook his head. “He exaggerates.”

“Mejdibhai said she would help me too.” Abhaya smiled at the books longingly. Swadhin eyed her.

“Have you… umm… been comfortable here?” He asked. Abhaya looked up at his words as her smile faded. 

“I stay busy throughout the day. I watch Maa teach them to sew and stitch. I was thinking of joining…” She said absent-mindedly.

“You don’t need to join them.” Swadhin’s voice was quick and assertive. Abhaya was unsure.

“Why not?”

“I mean… You can already do so much around the house, so you should now only concentrate on your studies. You have a lot of catching up to do with girls your age,” he shrugged. “And then I can enrol you somewhere.” Abhaya gasped. “Enrol me? No.” She protested. “I want to learn for my own needs.”

“Yes.” Swadhin nodded, “But what is the harm in trying schooling? The girls in Dhaka go.”

“This is not Dhaka.” Abhaya shook her head. “Even Renu and Uma are home-schooled.” Swadhin found it best not to argue. He silently nodded and looked serious.

“There is one more… umm… news.”

“Is it bad?” Abhaya asked softly. He shrugged. “It is not good. My friends from Kashi and Vrindavan said they have not found Didi.” He could hear Abhaya sigh. “But that doesn’t mean she is not there. She perhaps changed her name, or they did not look enough.” He added quickly. Abhaya shook her head.

“Can we not talk about it?” She looked up at him with twinkling eyes. “I pray every day, and I believe Radha Krishna will bring her to me if they choose to.” Swadhin nodded. He yawned again, although he tried to suppress it. “I better…” He stopped at the edge of the bed and eyed Abhaya, still unmindfully observing her.

“Umm… which side do you sleep on?” His voice was awkward. Abhaya looked a little flustered as she turned to see him scratching his head. 

“Umm… I…” Sleep in the middle?

“I am taking the window side.” Swadhin declared, and Abhaya did not respond. He lay flat on his back and exhaled as his body was aching after a tiring day. Abhaya went back to her books.

“Do you plan on staying there all night?” He asked as she shook her head.

“I… can I ask you something?” She said as he nodded. “Hmm?”

“Does… umm… Meera Di knows…about me?” She stopped as Swadhin sat up with a frown. “What are you implying?” He asked, rather irked. “If I met her while I was away?” Abhaya could sense the irritation in his voice as she licked her lips and pressed them together, turning her chair halfway to face him. She did not respond.

“No, I have not, and it doesn’t matter if she knows or not.” He shook his head. 

“All I want to say is I don’t want to cause any misunderstanding…” Abhaya said, unsurely. Swadhin inhaled.

“I have told you before she is not my… we are not…” He was not sure how to put it to make it sound respectful in Abhaya’s eyes. She inhaled. “Who is she then?” He looked up at her words. “Just another person I know.” He shrugged, “If you don’t believe me…” He stopped as Abhaya stood up, her hands clasped together as she looked away, and his eyes on her made her uncomfortable. “Then why …” Abhaya stopped. “I am just curious about that…” She fumbled to find the right words. “Why do you not expect me to be…” She looked a little flustered as Swadhin’s brows arched and his heart made a funny leap. It was as though the room was shrouded in a mist of awkwardness, and from that emerged this image of Abhaya in front of him. Not the Abhaya he knew as a kid, innocent, naive, fiery and intimidating at times, but submissive, wifely, more of a woman than the girl he knew. An image of her suddenly flashed in Swadhin’s inner mind. Her wet saree clung to her features, her eyes were timid, and her gestures were shy. He looked up at her again, almost forcibly to remove that image from his head. “I am sorry, I should not have.” His lack of response embarrassed Abhaya, and she turned to go back to the window. Swadhin held her back by her wrist in a reflex. “No… I… Do you want…” He let go of her hand as she stopped. Swadhin breathed in as he stood up behind her. “Do you want me to expect you to be …” He could sense her breath in as she stiffened. “I want to do whatever is expected of me.” She said rather gently. “I have no say…” She stopped as Swadhin held both her shoulders and turned her around. A chill ran down her spine as Abhaya looked scared at him. “You have a say. And I will not do anything to disrespect you or your say. I promise.” Abhaya looked up at his words as her throat went dry. “I… I am… not…” She fumbled.

“I know. You are still too young to understand things, Abhaya.” Swadhin smiled faintly as she looked away and back at him. “And that doesn’t mean I run to another woman because I can.” Swadhin’s voice sounded disappointed. Abhaya’s eyes narrowed. “I did not mean…” She protested. “I was making sure I am not causing…”

“If you were, I would not have been here, and nobody could make me.” His words made Abhaya wonder. Once in a while, there were these glimpses of the Swadhin she once knew. He let go of her shoulders. “And you are wrong. I am not too young to understand…” Abhaya stopped as Swadhin had an amused smile on the edge of his lips. She turned a little red with embarrassment as she bit her lips and lowered her head.

“Fine. Now, can the grown woman allow me to sleep, or are we going to stay awake for another night?” She shook her head with a faint smile on her lips as he walked up to the bed. Abhaya reached for the lights.

“Ummm… another thing…” She said awkwardly. Swadhin was lying down and closing his eyes, his hand over his head now. “Hmm?” He said sleepily.

“I need to change the saree.” She said sheepishly as he inhaled. “It is too heavy.”

“When I told you to…” he shrugged.

“I thought…” Abhaya sounded embarrassed as realisation dawned on him.

“I am sorry.” He said, making her stare. “I should go out.”

“I can still hear people awake in the corridors.” She exclaimed. “If you go…”

“Then what do you suggest?” He eyed her suspiciously as he lay still.

“Turn around, and I will change. I will tell you when I am done.” She suggested as Swadhin shook his head and turned to the side, facing the empty side of the bed. She quickly grabbed the saree and put the drape over her bosom. She changed the saree and proceeded with the blouse. “You can turn around now.” She picked up the saree as she frowned at his lack of response. Abhaya walked over to the other side to watch him sleep peacefully. She shook her head and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at his sleeping figure in the darkness. She lay down on her back, and she could feel his breath on her shoulder. She moved a little away from him and turned to her side, back to him.

Abhaya contemplated the day as she played with the chain on her neck. When she was told to touch his feet by the elders, she had at first decided not to actually touch his feet. But when she sat down amidst the directing relatives, a sudden overwhelming of emotions took over her. She felt that if he were not there, she would still be dying in a dungeon or held in the Andarmahal of a Zamindar Bari. She was here, respected by the people around her, loved by the woman she now called mother and adored by the sisters-in-law. She had never received such respect and affection at home. And it was all because of Swadhin. She had her grudges against the leader and perhaps even Naw Da, but Swadhin was not a part of it anymore. She had, in a week, learnt to see the family separately from her battles with the leader and his group. And in the middle of her turmoil, Abhaya found herself touching her head to his feet, as Swadhin moved away a little awkwardly, murmuring, “You don’t have to.” Abhaya inhaled as she glanced over her shoulder again at Swadhin’s sleeping figure. She wondered if what he said was true or just words. Was he going to be celibate or seek Meera out behind her back? The thought disturbed Abhaya. It irked her because she realised she had no right to demand otherwise from him. His loyalty was his choice, and she had no right to complain until she was ready to be his wife. A sudden feeling of emptiness crept in. What if she never felt that way? Abhaya suddenly remembered the sounds she heard that day at the Nat Mandir. She could not help but wonder if Swadhin at all saw her as a woman, like he did Meera, or if she was that child she always was to him. Abhaya did not know when she fell asleep.

When Swadhin woke up as the birds chirped, he could see her face, sleeping peacefully in the morning light. He sat up, and his eyes involuntarily travelled to her exposed navel and the misplaced drape that made her cleavage visible as her soft breathing made the bosoms rise and fall. He inhaled with a dry throat. The primitive urges of a man were stronger than he anticipated. He forced himself to look away and place a blanket over her before he went to the window and pulled the curtains guarding the light. The flowers on the bed now smelled a little stale than last night, and he eyed the frames lying in a corner of the room with the pictures facing the wall. He inhaled and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Mohini was startled by the knock on her door at dawn. Nobody was awake. For a moment, she was scared that it was a police raid.

“Open up, it's me.” She recognised Sharat’s voice. She opened the door as he let himself in and shut it behind him.

“It is Sunday, Sharat Da.” She looked at him suspiciously.

“I know. I was stuck yesterday. I will just talk and leave before everyone wakes up.” He reassured her. Mohini watched him sit on the mat as she offered him water. “There is bad news.” She wasted no time. “We have the wrong target.” Sharat looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know where Roopganj Bazaar is?” Mohini asked. Sharat nodded. It was in Narail where the historical Indigo Revolution happened. 

“I heard they have a secret warehouse there… somewhere in the premises of Victoria College…” He appeared to be thinking.

“I know everything but the time. The time is in some paper, Nithercot gave Adham Saheb.” Sharat frowned at her words. “The problem is, I am already his boss’s mistress. He would not touch me. And he seems like the… gentleman type.” Sharat eyed her and grunted.

“An Englishman and Gentle? Such a paradox.” He shook his head. “Let me think about it, till then continue to entertain, no false moves.” Mohini nodded. “And if possible, try to establish a rapport and impress Jones.” Mohini nodded again. “I have to head out now. The trial is soon, and we have a meeting.” Sharat stepped out into the empty courtyard and walked to his cycle as Mohini shut the door behind her. He stopped at the threshold and contemplated. Turning around, he walked up to the other side and knocked on another door softly.

“Ke?” A faint, unsure voice asked. “Kalyani, it's me.” She opened the door and smiled as Sharat entered the room. Kalyani looked around at the sleeping courtyard and shut the door behind her, and Sharat looked up at her, a little taken aback. He did not expect her to. He eyed the mat unsurely as Kalyani said, “Sit down. I have some Batasha and Muri, other than that…”

“How did you know I'm hungry?” He asked, surprised. Kalyani smiled faintly as she picked up a bowl. “Because you are here now, that means you came out of your home around midnight, and it is almost time for breakfast.”

“I have to head back before…” Sharat sat down on the mat, and she pushed a bowl full of Muri and Batasha at him. “Eat first.” She insisted on taking the hand fan and waving it while she adjusted the drape of the saree on her head. Her hair was growing rather unevenly, and Sharat suddenly noticed the curls. He looked away and took a morsel in silence.

“Why did you not come yesterday?” She asked, “Is everything fine?” He nodded.

“Were you waiting for me?” Kalyani eyed him as she fanned, and he looked away again.

“Everyone waits for you on Saturday.” She said and paused at his disappointed face with a faint smile. “So do I.”

“What if…” He placed the bowl down as she stopped fanning. “Some day I won’t come by anymore?” 

Kalyani stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can be somewhere else, running from the police or…” He eyed her, “Married and my wife won’t allow me to…” He stopped as Kalyani laughed. He had barely seen her laugh.

“So Sharat Babu thinks he is that obedient of a woman?” She sounded amused.

“You do not?” He asked, raising his eyebrows as she shook her head.

“I think he does what he wants to do fearlessly. I admire that because I cannot.” Kalyani’s eyes sparkled as Sharat’s eyes met hers.

“You also can, Kalyani. You just have to stop worrying about people and society.” He said in a soft tone. “All you have to do is be brave once.”

“And then?” Kalyani asked with a faint smile appearing on her lips. “Where will I go if society rejects me?”

“To someone who will accept your fearlessness,” Sharat replied promptly. Kalyani smiled. 

“I will let you know when I find someone or something worth defying society with.” She shook her head as Sharat’s smile disappeared and he stood up.

“I came to visit Mohi.” He said, taking some Annas out of his pocket as Kalyani placed her empty palm in front of him, waiting.

“I know.” She said, Sharat placed the Annas in her hand and asked. “Does that bother you?” Kalyani smiled.

“Why will it bother me?” Sharat was at a sudden loss for words.

“Never mind. I will be back when Mohi gets another invitation. Hopefully one from Jones soon.” Kalyani nodded at him and watched him leave. “Dugga Dugga.” She prayed for his safe travel.