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Tulsipur

When the country was ignited with the fiery spirit of freedom, on one side, Yugantar Dol was attacking the offices of the British government one after another, and on the other, the treasuries or officials were being constantly targeted or gunned down, how could Tulsipur, a small village in a corner of Dinajpur, be left out of it? People were joining Congress or Bengal Volunteers in groups in a bid to contribute to the movement. 
Zamindar Trilochan Roy Chowdhury was now fifty-four years old. He remained unmarried throughout his life, being a parent to his three motherless nephews. He managed his great-grandfather's estates, and he was unwilling to sell his pride in the greed of the title of Ray Bahaduri to the British. He had to fight regularly for that. 

This was the end of winter. Just as he was about to sip his morning tea, the old servant Bihari came and informed him that an officer of Balurghat Police Station had come to meet him. Zamindar Trilochan Roy Chowdhury sent for another cup of tea and straightened himself. His English-speaking younger brother was summoned to converse with the gentlemen. The stance about the British caused a major disagreement between the otherwise united bond of the Roy Chowdhury brothers. Binoy was in favour of the Government because he needed to run his business with these people. His elder son's appearance is very similar to Binoy Roy Chowdhury's, some would say, his son would look like him once he reached his late forties.

The English Police Officer came and stood near the Zamindar Babu. He knew very well that there was no proof of the suspicions in his mind, these people were educated enough not to be intimidated or outsmarted easily. He could not mess with them. Apart from being the god-like landlords that they were, they also knew the Commissioner’s secretary. 

"Why are you here?" Trilochan said in a slightly annoyed tone to the constable who had accompanied him. 

"Agge, Boro Kotta ..." said Mukherjee, a village boy who had just become a constable, hesitatingly, "We are looking for a group, I mean, sir thinks they are hiding in Tulsipur."

"Does he have any proof, your sir?" The zamindar grunted "Or did you come here early in the morning to instigate some fear?" The constable stood silenced. The Sahib's face wore a frown. He could understand Bengali even if he didn't speak the language.

"Trilochan Roy Chowdhury is not afraid of anyone. Tell that to your master. Do not come into this village without proof. My ancestors did not support these Whites after Palashi, they had to give their lives for it. If necessary, Trilochan Roy Chowdhury will also...” Excitedly, he grabbed the ivory cane he was resting his hand on. 

"Dada, let me talk to them." Binoy interrupted the conversation as he walked in. There was a break in the conversation as the servant arrived with a kettle of tea and a few porcelain cups. After he left, Binoy offered a cigar to the officer. He does not smoke in front of his brother, but what was the use of making the British angry? The gentleman shook his head and refused the cigar. 

"We will inform you as soon as we get any news," Binoy informed the gentleman in clear English. He shook his head and got up to leave. The Boro Zamindar watched them go. 

"Huh!" Trilochan grunted, "It is a shame for Bengal’s sons that they have to kneel and lick those British boots."

"Dada, I have told you before, explained this many times. What's the use of inviting trouble? When we don't know anything?” Trilochan got up and left. Binoy heard him inside the house "Maa? O Bouma? Come to my room once, and tell Bihari to bring the hookah."

Bondita was heard answering from the kitchen “Aschi.” Binoy sighed and lit a cigar.


His brother wasn't always this kind to the girl he now calls Maa. But for so many years, he had personally taught the girl to take care of their family and the village. Maybe that's why Trilochan Roy Chowdhury formed an affection towards the fatherless innocent Bondita. But the day Bondita first set foot in Tulsipur, it was as if a storm blew over the Roy Chowdhury family. Aniruddha, ever stubborn, stood there modestly. What was his fault? Binoy knew his son was like him. But how could someone be this stubborn? The young man who sat at the breakfast table in the morning and argued about the serious disputes regarding child marriage, destroyed his life and peace and willingly brought an eight-year-old child in the very evening as a wife? What was he thinking? Bondita was poor, of low caste... If he did not even consider those atrocities, still how could he show his face to Soudamini's father? What would he say to society? The Roy Chowdhury's eldest son married a widowed child? Why?

"Couldn't the child have been saved in any other way?" Trilochan Babu roared, "And if not, why did you need to waste your life doing social service? Let her die!”

"What will I say to Soudamini's father?" Binoy had asked him. Aniruddha, who always argued, stood speechless that day in front of his father and uncle. How could he leave such an innocent being to die? He could not have forgiven himself if he did. Could he have kept Soudamini happy with that guilt? And if he didn't marry her, how could he bring her to Tulsipur, what would he introduce her as? Did he not know the villagers? Aniruddha's vision blurred that day. Trilochan stopped suddenly; He had never seen Aniruddha cry after his mother's untimely death. Aniruddha folded his hands to apologize. He was the culprit of Soudamini, but for some reason, he developed a strong sense of responsibility towards Bondita as soon as the vermilion touched her hairline that day. Amid his father and uncle’s rebuke and the surprised looks of his brothers, he stared back to find two innocent eyes full of wonder staring at him. Was Bondita afraid that day? She could have been for she was not yet familiar to how stubborn the eldest son of Roy Chowdhury's house was. Now Bondita whose tiny footsteps once entered the Zamindar house like a storm, was the light of their lives. Time is indeed a wonder.


"Baba, will you not go to work?" Binoy was startled out of his thoughts by his secondborn, Somnath, "Khajanchi Babu is here." 

"Come on." He got up.


Bondita entered Trilochan's room with Bihari. Bihari left the newly arranged Gargari in front of Zamindar Babu and Trilochan, who was lying comfortably with his eyes closed on the chaise, raised his face and looked at his daughter-in-law. 

"Binoy left for work?"

"Just now…" Bondita nodded, "Did you have something to tell him?" She asked, "Then I am telling Biharibabu..."

"No, no," Trilochan suddenly lowered his voice, "I am saying that the food for those boys.."

"What do you think about me? Have I not done this before?" Bondita's eyes narrowed, "No one will know except Koeli Didi and me. Koeli Didi will take their food from the kitchen. I could have gone if you had let me tell Barristra Babu. We did not need to involve Koeli Didi too.”

"No need to tell him anything." Bondita suppressed her smile at Trilochan's words. She was not alone, everyone in this house was more or less afraid of Aniruddha. "And you don't need to go see them."

"It would have been fun." Zamindarbabu suddenly looked up curiously at her choice of words, "I have never seen a rebel, I mean, what do they look like?" Trilochan laughed at Bondita's curiosity. 

"Just like a human being, don't you see your husband?" Roy Chowdhury Ginni suddenly felt embarrassed. She was now grown up, if someone else made fun of her husband, she felt shy indeed. Especially when it was the father-in-law. 

"Is he even a revolutionary?" Bondita asked in a shy tone. 

"Bouma, is there only one type of revolutionary?" She was surprised by Trilochan's words. Bondita agreed, then saw her father-in-law holding the Hookah pipe in his hand and left for the reading room. She started turning the pages of the book. A lot of work remained unfinished.





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