RAABTA

Meera adjusted her spectacles as she leaned in to read one of the advertisements in the local newspaper. She was sitting on the balcony of her son’s quarters in Birbhum. He worked as a Sub-Divisional Magistrate as one of the first IAS officers of Independent India. She read the particular section that attracted her attention again and again, and that prompted the maid who served her tea to ask, “What is it you are so eagerly reading? Didimoni?” Meera looked up from the newspaper at the maid and asked in urgency, “Where is Dadababu?” “Oh, he is meditating.” She pointed at the other room. Meera did not wait for her son to stop meditating. She walked into his room and placed the paper down. “We must leave for Medinipur immediately.” That made him open his eyes. If anyone saw Azad Ahmed’s twenty-five-year-old face, he would remind them of his father. He frowned at his mother’s words. Not the first time he had seen her being impulsive. “Medinipur?” He asked, straightening himself and reachi...

  This outtake can be read after Chapter Five. Adhir had always looked up to his father. From an early age, he had been home, taking care of his little sister, doing chores around their small Shanti in Barishal’s largest slum area while their father ran a Paan Shop in front of the Police Station. He had always seen his father wake up at dawn before the first ray of the sun, pray to the Lord with his wet clothes still on, and leave for work, dangling a Thali of Ruti and Torkari for his lunch that he had cooked the previous night. Adhir would wake up right after him, help his little sister, make their tiffins and go to school. Benimadhob had enrolled him in his friend Upendra Gangopadhyay’s school for poor children. That was where Adhir met Master Moshai and Bina. Through his teens, Adhir slowly and steadily discovered a new side of his father, along with Mastermoshai. The Paan shop would be shut around 9 PM, but his father did not return home well after 11. The neighbours gossiped t...

Nonibala Debi had fainted as soon as her husband left. Abhaya stood by the headrest as Protima and Bimala splashed water on her face, and the brothers waited outside the door. Abhaya tried to touch her forehead when Bimala pushed her hand away.  “Don’t.” She almost snapped. “ Why are you showing her false sympathy?” Abhaya frowned at Mejdibhai’s words.  “Leave her alone, Mejo. It’s not really her fault, is it?” Protima warned. “It's our ill fate.” Nonibala Debi stared at the ceiling as if she were trying to recollect what was going on. Her eyes fell on Abhaya, who stood at her bedside, and she burst into uncontrollable sobs once again. “I am so sorry, Choto Bouma. I am so sorry. Your… your… mother… Hai Ram … your innocent mother…” Nonibala Debi lamented. Abhaya’s eyes were teary, but she could not move from her place. She felt helpless. “ I never imagined… I could never…” Nonibala Debi sobbed as Bimala offered her a glass of water; she pushed away. “Go away, Abhaya,” Protima s...