And the voice faded: Rimli Bhattacharya


Mrudul is still my best friend and confidante…..

It is nine in the morning and the crowd outside the courtroom building is already buzzing with people. In poetic verse I would say the crowd was like those crystal raindrops protesting to join the ocean. The lawyers are surrounded by the petitioners and respondents……why only them, it can also be their relatives sounding loud and looking disquieted. The court opens at ten, so I settle down on the bench under the Gulmohar tree adorned with dazzling red flowers matching the rage which is waging a war deep down my heart. The six month old plays on my lap as if amused to think what might be going through the mother’s mind. But her silence and smile doesn’t last long. She starts wailing. Removing my sari a little I lift my blouse and my netted black bra with a red outline, which he always said beckoned him. I hold the baby to my chest. She starts suckling. And then I see him. Alighting from his Sedan he walks straight towards the entry gate, Aniket now a man in his forties.

 

***

 

I was three and have vague memory of my kindergarten days. I would try resisting to wear my uniform and cry every passing day as my mother fed me a glass of milk mixed with Bournvita. Hours later when I returned home my shirt would be smeared with my vomit. I would cry both at home and in school and then one day I stopped whining. I had with me a new teary eyed child with a shaved head. The other kids would make fun of her and call her by names like bell matha, laddoo etcetera. She would cry helplessly and to pacify her I would share my color pencils. We would draw shapes and laugh. And even before we realized soon we became best friends and confidante.

 

Mrudul, though I spelt her Mudul. I would carry home stories of Mrudul, little did I realize my mother took this opportunity to feed me a cheese sandwich, or a bland bread butter topped with jam and cherries, or an egg or an apple and that glass of milk. I would return home with an empty tiffin box, albeit sometimes it would be left with remnants of Mrudul’s tiffin. Mother would smile and ask me what Mudul brought in her tiffin and I would give her a long list of junk foods. I also told my mother that I shared my paranthas, sandwiches with her. Certain days I would go hungry as Mrudul would finish hers and look for my tiffin. But I didn’t mind. After all she is my best friend. 

 

It was on our graduation day from preschool to primary, our parents met. Mrudul’s family had moved in from Delhi to Mumbai. My mother whom I called ma, but everyone addressed her Dulali invited Mrudul’s family to our home that evening. Mrudul introduced me to her brother Aniket who was then a boy of thirteen but has already started preparing for his IIT and Medical entrance exams.

 

“Jaya, why such a long gap between the siblings?” my mother chuckled while asking Mrudul’s mum.

 

“I had two miscarriages, we wanted a girl”.

 

Miscarriage, I had so many horse carriages back at home. I should be careful with my toys. I shared this secret with Mrudul and she agreed. Aniket dada who stood next to us lifted me up in his lap, removing the phlegm from my nose he planted a kiss on my cheek and assured me that no one would destroy my carriages. And if someone dares to do so, I should punish that person.

 

“But how? I am so small.”

 

He wouldn’t stop laughing. That infuriated me.

 

That evening Mrudul’s parents came to our place. Ma was in her purple Kurta and black sweatpants and baba in his while shirt and white trousers. He had a fascination for white and his wardrobe was full of white clothing. He was a dark man and in those whites he looked even darker. When I grew up I resisted his fascination for white. I would pester him to wear other colors.

 

“How come he is so fair? I am dark, Dulali is dark”.

 

“No hemoglobin”, the doctor had said.

 

From then on I stopped interfering to my father’s choice of colors. I didn’t have any memory, we didn’t even have a photo either, anywhere on our walls. When my mind would go curious, I would ask it to shut up. May be that’s the reason baba would lock himself in his study for hours together and ma prayed a lot more.  And may be that was the reason my parents would start loving Aniket dada more than me and Mrudul.

 

“Babi”, my ma called out.

 

I knew the reason. I had to touch the feet of the elders and I complied obediently.

 

“Mishti meye”, Jaya aunty pinched my cheeks and lifted me in her lap. I didn’t like it and asked her to leave me. After all I am a big girl.  I go to school. I am also teacher to my dolls.

 

“Babi”, my ma called out my name again coupled with a hard glance and I shut my mouth.

 

Later as Jaya aunty released me I ran towards Mrudul who was busy playing with my doll house. Strangely I allowed her to touch my toys which I wouldn’t share with anyone else.

 

***

 

We grew up together. Though Mrudul’s father had a transferrable job, he decided his family should settle down in Mumbai for the sake of his children. Mrudul lived two kilometers away from our house and I would peddle and visit her often. Sometimes for notes, sometimes to play, sometimes to hear stories of Adventures of Tintin from Aniket dada and likewise. It was the same year when I menstruated, Aniket dada failed to clear his IIT exam for the third time and medical entrance for the second. Mrudul’s father left for Dehradun with a faint hope that his son might now clear the Medical Entrance tests. But Jaya aunty was devastated.

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong, Dulali. Aniket has been a topper. How can he fail?”

 

“It happens Jaya. You know I have heard people having contacts with the paper checkers and would bribe them for their child’s admission in reputed colleges”.

 

“Do you know the source?” Jaya aunty looked buoyant.

 

Umm hmm will let you know Jaya. Very soon, haan. Ye umm can Aniket take Babi’s Maths and Science lessons? Babi is very poor in those two subjects.”

 

“Sure, sure. Why even ask? And do not forget to give me the details of the contacts, okay haan”.

 

What contradictory statements, use yes and no in the same sentence? Also yes would mean a no and no would mean a yes. Swear these adults. Worse than us, truthful children who always did as said.

 

To me it sounded more like a deal. You give me this and I will give you that. And I also knew my mother had no contacts. Nicely played, mum. A guy who is a big a zero will now be taking my tuitions.

 

But I was proved wrong. Aniket dada was too good in those two subjects. I and Mrudul would sit together, while Mrudul was quick like her brother, I was the weak link. Dada had to repeat several times to get those Geometry, Algebra, and Trigonometry go in my head. But he never complained. He would rather keep watching me and I would turn red and start blushing for the utter failure. But that year I scored an ‘A’ in both the subjects and Aniket dada finally cleared his medical entrance examination and got admission in Grant Medical College, Mumbai. One of the best colleges in the city.

 

Hneh hneh, Babi is a good luck charm”. I eavesdropped Jaya aunty faking a smile while speaking to my mum.

 

I couldn’t hear what my mother spoke on the other side but this time when I reached home from the tuitions she looked shattered.

 

“Where will I get a good tutor now?”

 

“I don’t need one. Anyways I don’t like Math and Science”.

 

“Stop talking like a fool. You need to be either an engineer or a doctor.”

 

“And who said that? Are you going to decide my fate?”

 

I didn’t wait for an answer but stormed out of my room. I was only nine and I menstruated. I was ahead of my age. My mother knew that.

 

***

 

Dada left for his hostel but not before planting a kiss on my chubby cheeks. I wondered what made him pull me aside, look around though no one was at home including Mrudul and then plant that kiss. I too kissed him in return when he offered me the other side and I kissed there as well.

 

Dada couldn’t make it to home during the holidays and I too had no time to think of dada as I was growing up studying Math, Science on my own. I dismissed my mother’s plea to go for classes and brought home ‘A’ grade in humanities and ‘B’ grade in those two subjects.

 

And Mrudul too had the same fate.

 

Aiyaa, you don’t want to be like your brother?”

 

“Like what? Five times a loser and then hit a six”.

 

“Shut up, you need to be either an engineer or a doctor.”

 

“I won’t let you decide my fate.”

 

Dada would come home for a day or two but I never got to see him. Mrudul would share stories of her brother on how much he has lost weight, how weary he looked and we thanked our luck that we made clear to our parents come whatever may we will never study Medicine or Engineering. Our stories would now revolve around the Mills & Boon series, we would go together to the library and would settle down with a Nancy Drew series safely tucked inside a fat History book. We would get a haircut from a fashionable salon rather than our respective mother’s cutting our hair.

 

We imagined our heroes to be that guy who could swipe us off the tracks. That sudden rush of adrenaline for the nonchalant gaze and a one sided smile. No matter what, our heroes would still remain a one woman man even as those countless girls who would fall for him. Just like in the novels. I suddenly remembered Aniket Dada. I quickly dismissed the thought. And we kept the ultimate secret to ourselves, for our wedding nights. Mrudul and I would wink each time we would read about it in any of the story books.

 

We were fourteen.

 

“You need size 34, I will get you two sets”, my mother announced one morning.

 

“I need a colored one with lace”

 

“Hey hello how do you know all these stuff? I am warning you, do not be a rebel. Your mother can be worse”

 

That said ma got me two sets of plain white brassiere and handed them to me. I wanted Mrudul’s approval on them.

 

I stopped for a moment. I will be wearing to cover my chest.

 

White. No hemoglobin. Chest compression. Rescue breaths. Ma lay unconscious and father turned a stone.  

 

I wanted to hug my father. May be that’s the reason he is so quiet. May be that’s the reason ma worshipped Aniket dada. My legs stopped.

 

“Ma”, I yelled as she prepared hot paranthas for our dinner.

 

“What now?”

 

I ran to the kitchen. Holding the whites I told her to get me any other color but not white. She stopped for a second, then turned her back to me and started chopping the onions. Tears poured from her eyes – but I was unsure if it was for the whites or the onions were needed to be blamed for those tears.

 

Next evening I got two black ones. I wasn’t happy. What did I look for? Mrudul’s approval? Or was it something else? May be that dirty thought which I shut out from my mind.

 

“Aiyaa, now only?” Mrudul couldn’t believe.

 

“And size 34”, I giggled.

 

The following month Mrudul got two for herself, black with a red lace, size 32.

 

Now Mrudul was too close a friend and confidante.

 

***

 

I was fifteen when Aniket dada returned home as a doctor. Jaya aunty invited us for a puja in the afternoon, coupled with lunch in his honor. Uncle who was now posted in Jaipur also came down to grace the auspicious occasion. Mrudul and Aniket dada sat near the pandit chanting hymns. The womenfolk were busy in the kitchen and the men chatted among themselves. This is the privilege men share. Do nothing and gorge on the women’s fruit of labor from the hot and sultry kitchen. I could smell the aroma of the poori’s while taking the steps to the terrace. I had no clue for how long I stood in the heat as my feet started burning when I felt a slight tap on my adolescent shoulders. Then a firm grip on my arm and I turned around with a shock.

 

“Why are you burning your feet in this hot sun? You should come and sit with us for the puja. Also these tender feet and palms are not meant to be charred in the heat” Dada smiled.

 

“Dada, you came searching for me?” I sounded flattered. I was flattered.

 

“Come for tuitions from tomorrow. Your favorites; Maths and science”, he winked

 

He rushed down the stairs and I followed him.

 

Aniket Dada started his practice with King Edward Memorial hospital. At seven in the evening I reached Mrudul’s place carrying my thick Maths text book. I wanted to study Binomial Theorem.

 

Dada haven’t returned yet from the hospital. Mrudul and her parents were out. The maid was preparing to wind up her day and leave.

 

“Are you going to wait?” she asked me while cleaning her sweat with the corner of her sari.

 

“Hmm, mm”

 

“Keep these keys and hand over to whoever reaches first”.

 

Dada was the first one to reach. When dada entered I was trying to solve those equations. I was deep down working on those equations when the fuse blew up.

 

But they had an inverter. Why is it not starting?

 

“Secrets need to happen in the dark. That is why it is a secret. Union of souls isn’t bad. It never had been. And it’s in this darkness that two people unite. Lovely brassiere, next time get a laced one. You look like a dark horse who has kept her carriage intact. No miscarriage”.

 

Coming from a medical school, dada knew the tricks. He was gentle, his touches even gentler and that’s the reason I could see my blood on the tenth day instead of our first day itself and I wasn’t menstruating either. Dada smiled, but I was anxious.

 

Since then it turned a daily ritual, like we are true life partners. We crossed all the boundaries of being careful and of being careless and what we only knew was the hunger, the compulsion for physical intimacy and fantasy.

 

Then one day dada ceased to be dada anymore. I would address him by his first name during our acts, but in public he was always dada.

 

***

 

No matter how much Aniket cajoled us to learn Maths and Science, both me and Mrudul picked Geography for graduation.

 

I was just back from college, when Jaya aunty entered our house with a box of sweets.

 

“Dulali, we will now have two doctors at our home”, she smiled.

 

“But Jaya aunty, Mrudul and we are always together right from our school days.”

 

Arre who is talking of Mrudul here? Your Aniket dada is getting married. He has been dating Sreyasi, his college mate but had kept it a secret. The other day he was out. For the past few years he has been disappearing between 7 to 9 in the evening. We asked Mrudul to keep a watch on his whereabouts. She had been to his chamber but the watchman had said Aniket comes only around 8.30. I grew suspicious. After he returned at 11 in the night I grilled him, and see na, he got red like tamatar. Hneh hneh, at least something good is happening now. The fellow was avoiding getting married all these years. He would always say what’s so great in getting married, till we found Sreyasi”.

 

Our family was ecstatic. As if I was the one getting married.

 

I stood stupefied. Brain stuttering and eyes growing wilder as if to gorge on all the surrounding lights I paused to catch up on my thoughts. No, I didn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry. Later in the night I dreamt of hunters, naked, searching for a prey and then tearing it down.

 

White. No hemoglobin. CPR won’t help. It might kill.

 

I shut my ears. My father, did he deserve this life? And my mother she had already been through a bitter trauma. Somewhere the miseries should end, but how?

 

***

 

I wore a white Kanjivaram Sari. No makeup. No jewelries. My waist long tresses flowing freely.

 

“Babi, you look like dead. Is this the way you will go with the Barati?

 

I saw no point in talking to my mother. Humming this song, I left.

 

“I never thought that I
Was that strong
To carry on, carry on tonight
Forgiveness in your eyes
With nothing to hide
All I know, is you've shown me
It's a beautiful world
It's a beautiful world”

 

Aniket jumped up as he saw me, but his eyes couldn’t meet mine. I inched forward, touched his fingers and whispered “I need these touches for one last time tonight.”

 

“Where were you all these days? Why haven’t you groomed yourself? No calls either. You know, you see, I will, just time….”

 

“Just tonight”

 

“Are you crazy?”

 

“No serious”

 

While all were busy getting prepared, we vanished to his study. He bolted the room from inside.

 

“Fast, Babi” he looked for a condom.

 

“No need. I have taken precaution. Let’s be Adam and Eve tonight”, I whispered.

 

Far away, in a distant no man’s land the hunters danced to the tunes of Sitar Maestro Ananda Shankar’s ‘Beats of Kajiranga’. I closed my eyes. “Self-destruction”, the voices said and I shut my ears.

 

Aniket was panting when I freed myself from the union. Giving a wry smile I wished him good luck.

 

“Aren’t you coming?” he looked perplexed.

 

I draped my sari and left the room. I didn’t turn and look back.

 

“Listen I got to talk to you…..”

 

***

 

“Why do you always come along with your brother, Mrudul? It weakens me.”

 

“Your parents are dead tired of you. They need you. Come back home.”

 

“Start hating me, Mrudul. It’s me who has dragged your brother to the court.”

 

Arre you are a blessing Babi. That woman has left. She was nasty and my brother isn’t a good man either.”

 

“And your parents?”

 

Mrudul kept quiet.

 

Aniket looked tense. The DNA of my daughter has matched his. The long battle of 12 months is finally over. The order will be spelt now. I could see him looking out for me.

 

“So quick to point the finger
When it was me to blame
So hard to realize
I kept getting in my own way

I never thought that I
Was that strong
To carry on, carry on tonight
Forgiveness in your eyes
There's nothing to hide
All I know, is you've shown me
It's a beautiful world

Oh the stars align
Let's watch them shine for you and I
Oh these open skies
Can we just lie here a while
In this beautiful world?”

Humming this song I walked towards the exit gate.

***

Aniket is a good man, at least I thought so. Then, did he really deserve this vengeance of mine. Just that he wasn’t sure and wasn’t brave enough to confess him being physical with me and staying with me for the rest of life. But Sreyasi? She is a truth no one can ignore. Aniket did a major damage. He couldn’t pair a bond with me to last a lifetime. It took me long to learn to break that union, even worse the four letter word called “Love”. The ancient hunters taught me to look for a pair bond that would last a lifetime, which Aniket failed to give me.

 

“No need to end the relationship”, my heart murmured.

 

Just that it wanted me to cure of the pain I endured, the pain of losing a union which I considered auspicious. The hunters told me to move ahead and start anew, just that I need to be careful and choose wisely whom I should hand myself to, completely. The auspicious bond called love which Aniket had no right to play with it.

 

“Listen I got to talk to you…..”

 

“Listen I got to talk to you…..”

 

“Listen I got to talk to you…..”

 

And the voice faded.


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