RAABTA

Abhaya spent a sleepless night contemplating her options; whether she should tell the truth and hope the police believed her words over any concrete evidence or whether she should be grateful to the home she found in the Gangopadhyay house and the support Swadhin showed her, encouraging her education and remain adamant on the version of events Sharat taught her. It was evident from his demeanour that he did not trust her. She could not blame him. She was not so sure of herself. Sharat ensured they went over the timeline a thousand times so that any roundabout questions would not make Abhaya slip up.  She had never set foot in a police station before that day. The closest she got to it was riding in the car with her brothers and picking up their father on the way to some invitation. Abhaya stepped out of the house in a bright yellow Tant Saree with the Ghomta over her head after Nonibala Debi gave her a mouthful of curd and sugar for good luck and reminded her to be brave. Nonibala Deb

Meera travelled to her Pishima’s house in Chattogram from Dhaka after meeting Swadhin. She did not linger a moment longer in Dhaka. All through her journey, she couldn't help but think about Swadhin’s safety. He was not a child she could manage but something in him was different. Like Abhaya had him at her fingertips with her feigned innocence. It disturbed Meera. She had never seen Swadhin that way. Perhaps that was not entirely true. Swadhin was always submissive. Wasn’t that what Meera liked when she was the one dominating him? She sighed. Perhaps it was Abhaya’s turn and that bothered her. Did it? She wondered if Kabir thought of her concern to be something else. Meera had always been fiercely protective of the people she knew and cared for. But she would never be in love with someone as immature as Swadhin. It made her contemplate her own life and experiences. Meera remembered her father. He was protective of her and often talked of the world like she never understood it yet s