THE HOMECOMING

THE HOMECOMING

 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
Please check earlier stories by clicking on the month on the right 

There was a light rap on the front door. Ratna was putting the weekly groceries away when she first heard the knock. By the time she managed to get past the bulging grocery bags mounted on the floor, the rap grew desperate. "Coming," she said. She wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and went through the little passage that came between the kitchen and the drawing room to get to the main door. She was still not very sure of her bearings around the house they just moved in a couple of weeks back.

Shankar had managed to find the place through a broker before Ratna arrived from Delhi with Shuvam, their four-year-old son. She didn't much care for the neighborhood. It was in the outskirts of the main city in a deserted part of Calcutta’s new satellite town called Salt Lake which still had just a few small cottages on little patches of green. Some of them were coated with layers of cement waiting for a fresh coat of paint.

 "Couldn't you get your broker to find a better place for us?" Ratna had asked Shankar. "This place is so far from the main city that I feel scared to step out because I know I won't be able to find my way back again." She had pouted.
"That is precisely why I like this place," Shankar had said with a mischievous grin. "Maybe, I don't want you to step out and get lost. I certainly don't want to lose you."

"Can't you ever be serious? I am serious. This place gives me the creeps. I am sure I'll never be able to find my way back if I went out. And I want you to know that I am not one of those to sit around the house and just do nothing. Once Shuvam starts school, I would like to do a few things on my own. I want to move around, Ok, Mr?”

Ratna came close to run her fingers through his hair. “Now will you ask your broker to find us a place in a more civilised part of the world?"

Shankar looked pleased and pampered. He said nothing. He lit a cigarette and was aware that Ratna was truly displeased with the selection of their home in this new town. But he liked the small two-storied house he managed to get with great difficulty, with a terrace and also a bit of green at the back to grow flowers and vegetables. There was an aura about the place. It had a sense of history and mystery.

They said the owner of the house was a public servant and with his life’s savings he had built this house but couldn’t enjoy it because of his son’s tragic death. So the family moved out and rented out the place. Living in a big city like Calcutta had never been Shankar’s dream. He had grown up in suburbia with a lot of space around where there were trees to house koyels and mainas. Besides, practically speaking, rents around this area seemed more reasonable than in areas close to the city centre. They would have to pay triple the amount for a tiny hole in Ballygunge or Lake Gardens. But how does he make Ratna see that! He too hated commuting everyday through congested areas with revolting body odours and filth enveloping him. Which is why at the end of the day, he was happy to come back to a place that was quiet and stench free. It was like heaven to him.

But Ratna was different. Coming from a clean and buzzing area like Alaknanda in New Delhi, she complained about feeling insecure in a lonely place with no friends around.

The rap on the door grew more intense.

"Coming, baba, coming. What's the hurry?" Ratna was a little annoyed at the fact that Parvati, the maid had left to pick up Shuvam from the neighbor's playground leaving her to do the cleaning up in the kitchen and answering doorbells. The local grocer had delivered the package some time back and she was hoping Parvati would give her a hand in putting all the stuff away. Somehow the heat in the city drove her to madness to the point of being listless and lazy.

Ratna unconsciously ran her fingers through her hair to tidy it a bit and mopped her face with the end of her dupatta. It could be Shankar. He hated to wait outside the door for too long. She looked at her wristwatch. There was yet some time for Shankar to return home. He usually got back around seven and it was not yet six. She hoped that it wasn't any vendor ringing the bell to sell something. There always seemed to be an endless race of them moving from door to door to offer their fares to bored housewives.

She opened the door gingerly.

         

"Sorry to bother you, Ma'am," said a young man in his twenties. He looked tired and kind of anxious. Ratna tried to think if she had ever seen him. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt with thin checks on it. His hair was untidy and a night-old growth on his face gave him a scruffy look.  She was trying to get used to the way Bengalis looked and behaved in this part of the world. They were ever so polite and respectful towards women, she thought.

 "I am sorry to trouble you." The young man said. Ratna decided she had never set eyes on him.

The young man was very apologetic. "I didn't mean to disturb you, Ma'am. I was looking for Mr. Nair. I have some business with him."

"Oh, I see." Ratna was a little embarrassed...” But he is not back yet from work. Should be back soon. Would you like to wait for him?" Ratna said falteringly.

"If it's not too much trouble." The young man looked relieved. There was something about his eyes. They looked so mournful, Ratna thought. She hoped the man was not here for financial help from her husband. As it is Shankar was always running short of money for every little thing. She looked at the young man and wondered what to expect.

The man turned back to wave at the taxi that was parked at some distance from the house and Ratna followed his gaze.

"I'll just ask him to wait for me here. I'll be back in minute,Ma'am.“

The man gave an embarrassed smile and stepped down to go through the small gate that stood decoratively in front of the shabby old house with a new name plate hanging on the outside. He went and spoke to the cab driver and moved back to the house where Ratna still stood wondering if she had done the right thing by asking him to come in and wait. She had plenty to do in the kitchen and there was no sign of Parvati and the kid.

Ratna asked the young man to make himself comfortable and at home. "Don't worry, Ma'am. I'll be all right." He said with an embarrassed laugh."My name is Debdulal Ghosh. I am a reporter and I am covering a project taken up by the UNESCO that is doing some work on the spread of arsenic in West Bengal. That's why I wanted to have a talk with Mr. Nair. I didn't mean to give you trouble."

"No, it's no trouble at all," Ratna smiled. She was a little relieved to learn that Debdulal was not here to get money from her husband. She heard the taxi move up to the front of the gate and stop.

"It's so difficult to get cabs around here. I thought it best to ask him to wait." He bared his slightly uneven teeth.

"Yea, I think that's the best thing to do. Taxis are difficult to find here. Especially this side which is quite a way from the main road."  Ratna sat down at the edge of the sofa facing the young man. She had left the front door wide open to be able to look out for Shankar to return. The man seemed harmless but she had never seen him and wondered if Shankar was going to be happy about letting him in. "Would you like to have some tea?" Ratna was surprised to find herself offering him the age-old Indian brand of hospitality.

"No, thank you. If I can just get a glass of water......." the man left the sentence unfisnished.

"Certainly," Ratna was happy to be able to disappear from his sight for a while. This would give her an opportunity to think. She wished Parvati would return with the child and Shankar would also come back home soon. She found herself getting annoyed with him for not having told her about his appointment with some stranger. They were yet to get their phone connection.

"Thank you, Ma'am," the young man got up to take the glass of water from Ratna. He drank it all up rather fast. While he tried to put it back on the centre table, he tripped and the glass jumped out of his grip crashing to the ground with splintering bits of glass flying all over the floor. The man fell over the same and there was a trickle of blood oozing from his forehead and palms tht held him back from the fall. Ratna gave out a shriek and ran to help him get up. Debdulal was embarrassed and started stammering as he got up.

"Oh, no, that’s okay, Madam. I’m fine, I can manage,” He pushed himself up and sat carefully on the sofa.”I-I am really sorry, I broke your glass." He started picking up the broken pieces. He got the big pieces and heaped them on top of the small tray on the table. By then the blood from his forehead had traveled to the collar of his shirt and was threatening to pour out with a vengeance.

"Let me get some dettol for you," Ratna said looking a little worried.

"Oh, no. Please don't bother." Debdulal rubbed his wound with his shirtsleeves. Ratna was horrified. She insisted that he wash the wound with some dettol.

"That's alright, Ma'am. If you could show me the restroom, that'll be fine." Debdulal was apologetic. Ratna guided him through the passage to the restroom downstairs next to the kitchen.

She showed him the medicine cabinet on the wall where he could find the things he needed to treat his wound. Debdulal said a faint 'thank you' and locked the door behind him. Ratna stood there for a while with a puzzled look on her otherwise pleasant face. She went back to the drawing room to clear the mess on the floor. She was busy picking up the small pieces of broken glass when Parvati returned to say that the birthday party was not over yet at the neighbor’s and that Shuvam would return later.

"Who is going to bring him back?" Ratna sounded irritated.

"Aunty-ji said her son, Ajay, will drop him back when the party is over. There are so many children, Bhabi, and they are making such a racket." Parvati was filling in the details about the birthday party.  "They have a paper animal hanging from the ceiling. All the kids are poking at it with hockey sticks and, believe me, the animal was raining toys and sweets wrapped in silver-paper." Parvati's eyes were shining with glee and she hoped Bhabi would also share some of her excitement. She took the mop from Ratna and got busy cleaning the floor while she jabbered away.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. They always have something like that at children's birthday parties." Parvati was a little surprised to hear the tone of Ratna's voice and her disinterest in the whole matter.

It was not before a good twenty minutes that Ratna realised that Debdulal was still not back from the restroom. She asked Parvati to go see if the bathroom was still occupied. The man looked so vague. What if he couldn't find his way back to the drawing room and was loitering around the house! She frowned at the thought of it. What if he’s loaded with a gun or some weapon! She shuddered.

A few minutes later Parvati came back to say that the restroom door was slightly ajar and that there was no noise coming out of it. Ratna was stunned. Where was Debdulal? She grabbed Parvati's arm and took her in.

"What are you saying?" she whispered. "I let the man in and he went into the toilet. Where can he be?" She checked the bathroom door and the kitchen. But neither of them saw any sign of Debdulal anywhere downstairs.

Suddenly it struck Ratna that the man didn't seem stable after all and, possibly out of curiosity had perhaps taken the stairs to go up.

"Parvati, let's go upstairs to see if that gentleman is there?"
"What gentleman are you talking about, Bhabi? I don't know what he looks like." Parvati was a little puzzled. She was sure, Bhabi had lost her mind! She realised that there was fear in Bhabi's voice. What man had she let in at this time of the day, she wondered.

Ratna ran to the kitchen to look for something. She could only find the kitchen knife. She grabbed that hiding it under her pallu.

The two women hung on to each other and crept up the steps that led to the bedrooms upstairs. They stood at the end of the last step and waited for any uncanny sounds they might hear. What was even more disconcerting, was the fact that there was none. And when the front door suddenly shut with a bang, both of them almost jumped out of their skin.

"Where is everybody? Ratna!" Shankar was back. Ratna was relieved to hear his voice from downstairs. She ran down the stairs with Parvati following suit.

"Oh, you're back. Thank God!" She stopped to take a deep breath

"What's the matter? Why was the front door left open?" Shankar was busy loosening his tie when he realised that there was something truly wrong. He studied Ratna's partly frightened and partly confused expression and added, "Why is that taxi standing there in front of our house? Who is here?"

"Sh-sh," Ratna whispered. She looked frightened. "There is a man inside."

"A man? What man?" Shakar was really confused.

"Some guy called Debdulal Ghosh. He wanted to see you. He went inside........"

"Inside?" Before Ratna could finish her sentence Shankar hissed. "Went inside? Why? Who is this Debdulal?"

"How should I know? He said he wanted to see you regarding some UNESCO project."

 "And you let him in?" Shankar was really mad this time.

"Well, he said he knew you and would like to wait for you to come back."

"And?" Shankar questioned her looking angry.

"And then he broke a glass and cut himself. He wanted to go to the loo to wash the wound..." Ratna was almost in tears. She knew Shankar was not going to understand the rest of the story. "And now he is nowhere to be found." She mumbled.        

"I don't believe it!" Shankar threw up his arms. "Where is he?" He charged through the passage to the bathroom, kitchen and ran up to the bedrooms upstairs. Debdulal was nowhere. Not even in the bathroom.

Shankar grew increasingly worried and suspicious. He took the stairs that led to the terrace, which he had virtually turned into a terrace garden. What if the man was waiting there with a gun or a weapon to strike after midnight? He was getting really worked up. He had meant to put a grill-gate to the door that led to the terrace but was putting the project off. He pushed the terrace door carefully. The evening air was filled with the fragrance of the chamelis and juhis he had potted so lovingly once. The sky was already quite dark and the lights from neighboring houses didn't really help much. He stepped into the terrace and looked around. There was nobody.  He realized that there was no scope for anybody to hide behind the water tank as it was placed flush against the wall. Where could the man disappear? He couldn't have taken the back door that was kept locked at all times. Still he decided to go down to check it out.The back door was shut and sealed. No soul could step out that way. Ratna looked terrified and when the doorbell rang she shrieked.

Parvati went and opened the door. It was Shuvam. Ajay, the young man who brought him back from the neighbor's, greeted her. But there was another person standing outside.

"Bhabi, please come this side," Parvati called out. Shuvam had already run inside to greet his dad. He had his hands full with back- presents from the birthday party. He wanted to show them to his dad. They all moved to the front door. The man standing next to the neighbor's son Ajay was the taxi-driver in his shabby grey uniform.

"How long am I going to wait, Memsaab?" the cabbie said. "I have been waiting for more than an hour. Please call the young man visiting you to pay me my fare and let me go. It’s going to cost him double the amount he agreed to pay me." The arrogant frown on his face proved that he was cheesed off with the kind of waiting he had been doing.

Shankar moved in behind Ratna and frowned. The driver looked at Shankar and wondered if he had said something out of turn in his presence and lowered his voice. "Saab, you can take his things from the cab. I just need my fare and leave Can I get it?" His tone was different this time.

"Wait a minute," Shankar moved forward. "You brought the young man here?"

"Yes. Why?" The driver was a little taken aback.

"He hasn't left yet? I mean, you haven't seen him leave this house?"

"Why Saab, I have been waiting here since he told me to park the taxi out there," the taxi-driver pointed to the spot where the cab was parked in front of the house. "I couldn't miss anybody even if it was a small fly."

"Where did you pick him up from?" Shankar was curious.

"Why, from Shyambazaar. He seemed to be in a hurry. There was a big accident there and he told me to get out of there as fast as possible. I took the longer but clearer route and got here as fast as I could.” He looked puzzled.”Why, Saab, is anything wrong?"

"Well, no, nothing as such. You said he has left some things in the car. Could you bring them here?" Shankar was confused. He was getting more and more baffled by the minute with the turn of events.

"Sure, why not?" The cabbie stepped out and moved towards his cab. Ajay, the young man from the neighbor's, was getting curious. " I’ll go with him." He told Shankar who nodded.

              

They brought back a cotton carry bag and a plastic folder containing some yellowing newspaper cuttings. The carry bag had a plastic water bottle, half-empty, a folded newspaper and a notebook. There was nothing suspicious or unusual about anything. Shankar looked at Ratna who seemed quite terrified and was clutching on to Shuvam. Shankar opened the notebook. There were pages full of reports from various sources. The thing that he found a little unusual was the dates marked on them. They were all marked between September 1989 to August 1990. It was obviously an old notebook.

Shankar picked up the yellowing newspaper from the bag and turned the pages while others pored over it to see if any suspicious looking object was embedded in it. It was a Bengali daily. He couldn't tell the date on it. He asked Ajay to read it out to him. It was dated August 22^nd, 1991 exactly three years ago to the date. As he turned the pages, Ratna suddenly gave out a cry.
 "That's him. That's him. Debdulal Ghosh," she covered her mouth, almost happy to be able to give a face to the name of the guy they were all worrying about. “Your friend,” she looked hopefully up at Shankar.
“My friend! Are you out of your mind!” He grew exasperated.”This is an obituary.”

Ajay took a close look at the picture of the young man in the photograph and looked shocked. "Yeah. That's Debuda." He stared at Shankar and Ratna for a while who stood there with eyes dilated with horror creeping in. He took the paper from Shankar's hands and read out the piece of news. "That's Debuda," he said again his voice faltering. "They used to live in this house some years ago when we were young. But..." he stopped to take a deep breath.

"But what?" Shankar sounded impatient. Ratna gasped.

"But he can’t be here today.” He looked frightened.

“Why not?” Shankar’s face clouded.

“Because…..  he died in a road accident three / four years back…. from a head injury." Ajay handed back the newspaper to Shankar."The picture is with the obituary from the publishing house he worked for," he said, looking at all the stunned faces around him.

************************************* THE END *****************************

The story was seen in a dream and recounted for your reading. Is there some connection with past life regression?

Dola Dutta Roy

Calcutta; completed in January 2004

Word count: 3,582

Pages 13

THE GUARDIAN

Please check earlier stories by clicking on the month on the right 

For August 2014

THE GUARDIAN                                                                                 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The morning sun was already blazing. It was the middle of May. The air was hot and burning. The shadow of the three-storied building facing Pritha’s balcony was almost touching the wall to her room and she knew it wouldn’t embrace it completely before nine-thirty-five in the morning . She just finished watering the plants in the balcony before the moment arrived so she could hide in the cool comfort of her bedroom with all the shades down.

Pritha Biswas was late in rising today and she felt guilty about it. But then she realized there was nothing to do for her.She was not late for anything. Anything that could make a  difference in anybody’s life.

For the last couple of years,everyday she woke up around four in the morning to the chirping of the birds that flew about outside her window. Lying in bed she would stare at the blue sky for a while changing shades. She liked the color of the vast expanse at that time; not quite indigo blue but more like royal blue and it amazed her to see the shade change to a grayish tint as the sun ascended the sky.But that’s where it ended. She had no time the rest of the day to look out her window at life that went past her. The clock moved around to remind her of the time to give Ravi , her husband, his breakfast, wash, his meager afternoon meal followed by some shots, then some snacks, physio-therapy, the douche, the bed-pan and, of course, loads of medicines, in both liquid and tablet forms. There was help at home to look after Ravi's needs, but Pritha made it a point to supervise everything personally that was being done to poor old Ravi. It was only at the end of the day that she would make a mental note of another uneventful day spent well. For Ravi's sake, at least. Ravi hardly complained as he lay in bed, inert. It had been like this for quite some time until tragedy struck and Ravi bid his final adieu to the world. He was gone. Gone with his baggage of sufferings; his moans and groans when the pain was unbearable. That was just a couple of months ago.

Today again she was at a loose end. It was another day to face alone. Everyday seemed so quiet and peaceful and yet so meaningless.Uneventful, to be precise. 

Only two months back there had been many footfalls in the house.The house had been buzzing following Ravi's demise. Ramona, her daughter, flew in from Delhi and stayed with her for a long time and so did her own sister, all the way from Jamshedpur. But they all had a home to return to, a family that they could not neglect for too long. For some time, there was the sound of laughter with children playing about, in spite of the somber atmosphere in the house that had just been visited by death. The flow of visitors shedding secret tears to share the bereavement of a loss, the loss of precious life, was a welcome change in her otherwise dull life. Pritha had no idea so many people cared for her and that she had invitations to visit anybody, any time she wanted, anywhere in the world -- now that she was free from her duties. 
The sound of human voices kept the house alive for some time. Suddenly all that stopped and there was nobody to talk to. She could even hear herself breathe. The silence grew ominous. 

She remembered how she had longed for days like this for many years and suddenly when she found them, she didn’t know what to do the whole day. 

Her daily routine generally revolved around Ravi and when he dozed off in the afternoon, for a short time it was her own time.She would take a book in hand to read or turn the TV on softly. Sometimes she even sat with some knitting but she neither finished her book nor did she watch TV or complete her knitting.Sending off emails to Ramona also grew irregular.The attendant woman would sleep in her chair to make up for lost sleep at night looking after her patient sometimes. 
But Pritha grew restless.

And even today she had all the time she wanted but nothing special to do. She got tired of the song and dance programs on TV, the endless chains of cookery shows with treasures of international cuisines to suit your palate, or even the churning of tear-jerking sentimental sagas of the soap serials. If this was entertainment, she didn't want it. 

******** 

Sitting in her bed Pritha stared blankly into space. Then all of a sudden she was overcome with emotion and fear. She wept for a while knowing it wouldn’t reach anybody’s ears. She swallowed the fear that was creeping up from the middle of her navel to her heart. She realized that she was already forty-eight years old and there was nothing much to look forward to. “It is the beginning of the end,” she thought to herself. There was nothing but waiting and counting days inching towards her own end and then finally passing into oblivion.

“What should I do now?” Pritha got up and got ready to make some tea for herself. Having tea alone with no one to even admonish and chase, didn’t seem alright.She needed company. Ramona had suggested keeping boarders or a PG for company.The house was big enough for four people and if she wished, she could even rent out a section of the flat to a young couple by locking the door that led to a passage and the two rooms on one side of the apartment. This way she could have her own privacy too. At least, there would be some people close by, some noise and some friends to reach out to. Pritha didn't dismiss the idea and had said she would consider the matter. 

Having nothing constructive to do, she had dwelt on the idea for half a day and dismissed it by the evening. Pritha felt uncomfortable with the thought of having unknown persons in the house with Ravi gone. She was not really a people’s person anyway and now she had evolved into a recluse altogether. She could spend hours sitting in the balcony watching the frantic pace of life in motion below. The clamour, the noise in the distance and the smell in the air kept her alive.  
But Ramona did warn her that that was an unhealthy approach to life.

So today when she sat down to have her first cup of tea, she made plans for the day. She was going to start it by giving the dirty linens in to the washing machine and then take out all the little knick-knacks from the glass cupboard to dust and clean as Shonkori, the cook and housekeeper, went about her chores around the house.

**************                          

2.

The bell rang for too long, thought Pritha. Someone seemed happy to keep the thumb on the button for some time. Shonkori just pressed it once and waited.  When Pritha opened the door, she found a little boy standing there with an awkward smile.

“Who are you ringing the bell at this hour for so long.? Is this the time to play ringing the bell and waking people up?” Pritha looked rather angry.

The boy was taken aback. He stood there with his mouth open looking for words for a while.

“Maa sent me to tell you she won’t be able to come today. She has fever.” He said rather in one breath.

“Maa? Are you Shonkori’s boy?” Pritha’s tone softened a bit. The boy gave a definite nod.

“Maa said if you want anything you could tell me. I could do some work for you.” His eyes were wide open. Pritha thought for a while and then let him in. She looked at his childish face, his faded striped T-shirt and frayed Bermudas. She could tell his hair had not been oiled or washed for some time either. He couldn’t be more than nine or ten but was rather tall for his age even though quite thin. 
He should be going to school now, she thought, and instead he was sent to help her out! "Come inside," Pritha said with an air of authority.

The boy stood stiffly in a corner and waited for commands to follow. His eyes were following Pritha as she made herself comfortable in a chair at the dining table. “What do they call you?” She asked him gently.

“Rana.” He said giving a slight twist to his body. But he was still unsure of himself in a strange place with a peculiar and irritable lady. He kept rubbing his feet on the mosaic floor.

“Don’t you go to school?” Pritha frowned. The boy inclined his head and looked down making half circles with his toe nail on the floor this time.

“Then why haven’t you gone to school today?” Pritha looked rather stern.

Rana looked up with a start. “Maa said you were alone and needed help.” He stuttered. He didn't understand why the lady was being so difficult. His mother had told him to bunk school and see if the lady needed help and he had obliged. 

Pritha got up from her chair and went to the kitchen. She put the tea kettle on the fire and took out some bread and butter from the fridge.

“Has she seen a doctor?” She asked the boy from the kitchen.

The boy fell silent. He didn’t know what to say. “I asked you a question. Has she seen a doctor?” She repeated. The boy shook his head.

“And why is that? Doesn’t she know that there is a chance that it could be dengue or something serious?”  She toasted a few pieces of bread and put them on the table. The boy didn’t take his eyes off from the ground.

 “Have you had something to eat before you came here?” Pritha looked at him.

Rana looked up and scanned her face for a while with suspicion. Was he going to be rebuked for that too? he wondered. Then he just shook his head a little. "We get 'tiffin' at school," he said without really looking at her.

Pritha had already buttered some toasts. She put two pieces of toasted bread on a quarter plate and held it out to the boy. Rana put his hands behind him and shook his head.

“What happened? Finish these and then we’d talk.” Pritha put the plate in the boy’s hand and went into the kitchen to pour some tea out for herself. Then she thought for a moment and poured some tea in the cup that was meant for Shonkori and held it out to the child. 

”Like to have some tea? I hope you are big enough to have tea.” Pritha parked herself in the chair again. Rana had squatted on the floor folding his legs and was relishing the buttered toasts shyly. He gave a nod. 

“Maa gives me tea too. She says it's good to have tea as it has some milk in it.” He said sheepishly. Pritha poured some more milk in the boy's cup and offered it to him.

Pritha was still sipping her tea when Rana got up to wash his plate and cup. She watched him. A slight boy with a squeak, he had a sweet innocent face. His large eyes drooped slightly at the ends giving him a pensive look. He came back to take Pritha’s plate and cup to wash as well. She let him. 

Wiping his hands behind his shirt, Rana waited for orders from the lady.

“What can you do for me?” tilting her head on one side Pritha asked him. 

"Anything. I can wash the dishes, do the floors but…., “ he stopped abruptly.

“But ?” Pritha was amused.

“I can’t cook for you.” His eyes looked fearful.

“No, you don’t have to do any of these.” Pritha couldn’t help but smile. “You will go home now. Actually, go to school and in the evening you can come by and get me some milk from the Mother Dairy stall and a few things from the grocer's nearby.” She looked at the boy’s reaction and added, "Do you think you can do that?”

The child looked apprehensive, " But Maa will be angry if I don't do your work now," he said looking concerned.

"Well, then let it be a secret between you and me and you don't have to tell her you went to school instead," Pritha laughed. "Can you keep a secret?" Rana gave a big smile and said he could.

“Now run along and tell your mom to get well soon and see a doctor.” She took a strip of Paracetamol from the medicine box and handed it to Ratan. “She should take two tablets a day for five days and she’ll feel better soon. But she must see a doctor too." Rana agreed readily. He left in a hurry saying he would come in the evening to get her milk and whatever she needed. In a few minutes he was out of the building and Pritha saw him running to cross the road towards the slum under the bridge in the distance where his mother lay sick in bed.

********

3.

For the next three days, Rana came every evening to fetch milk and some small essentials for Pritha. Shonkori was ready to join work soon. Every time Rana got back with milk and other things from the grocery store , she gave him some snacks and they sat down to discuss his progress in school. At first Rana was hesitant to talk about school but Pritha probed and learnt that his favourite subject was Maths but he hated History as it was loaded with boring facts. He was in class five and enjoyed going to school but not the teachers. Pritha would tell him to take his studies seriously if he wanted to be somebody someday and that it was the only weapon one could have in today’s world. 

Rana was no longer scared of the old lady who listened to him and also cared for him.

The next day when Shonkori came back, Pritha was secretly a bit sad as she hoped to see Rana again. 

“What happened? Did you take the tablets I sent you with Rana?” She asked Shonkori who looked emaciated.

The woman had lost weight and looked tired but had not lost her spirit. She giggled a little and said that she felt better from the second day but didn’t quite have the strength to go on. She hoped that Rana did his job and didnt' give Pritha any trouble. She hoped she didn't have to work hard. 

Pritha laughed. “Well just because you have spoilt me, doesn’t mean that I have forgotten to do any work around the house.” She said sounding rather glad that Shonkori was back and would take over from there. “By the way, did you get to see a doctor?” She raised her eyebrows.

Shonkori shook her head. “No chance. You go to see a doctor and you waste a whole day. Who has the time, tell me? I have two more houses to take care of.” She pouted. “Then they ask you to take so many blood tests and god knows what. I don’t have so much money to waste.” She started doing the dishes furiously and then started washing the vegetables she had just chopped. 

Pritha knew why Shonkori was scared to go for a check-up. Her husband had died of lung cancer and it was detected after several tests that wiped out all their savings. She neither wanted to spend that kind of money nor did she want to hear any bad news. She was willing to challenge destiny.

"But if anything happens to you, what'll happen to the boy? Have you thought of that?" Pritha argued.

"Well, whatever God doles out to us, we have to accept. I've prepared my son for that." Shonkori twisted her face in a grimace. Pritha thought it best not to pursue the matter any further.

But Shonkori didn't come the next day and the following day either. Nor did her son Rana show up in her place. The third day Pritha got worried.She had no way of getting news from them. She had no idea where exactly they stayed and realized she had never actually cared to know. She was so busy with her lot that everything else was a blur for the last couple of years. She didn't know how to get any news of them and it bothered her.

She managed the housework alright and didn't let things upset her if they remained unfinished. Everything seemed so unimportant these days. Life is like living in a quicksand where there were no traffic lights to guide you and warn you of impending catastrophes. She checked with a couple of girls that worked in the building but nobody seemed to know what had happened to the mother and son. As it appeared they didn't live in the same slum.

A week later, Pritha debated to go on foot to look for them across the bridge to the slum that lay under it. Then she decided against it. Her knees and ankles gave her trouble with the rise of Uric acid in her system. She couldn't walk for long. And a rickshaw was difficult to find locally.

Just when she was giving up on them one morning and wondering if she should look for some other maid to take Shonkori's place, the bell gave a familiar long ring. Pritha went eagerly to the door.

Rana was clad in a white piece of cloth and clinging on to a rough piece of jute in his hand. Pritha stood there with her eyes wide open. It took her a while to find words to say. Looking at the boy's hollow, stricken face she said quietly,"When did this happen?"

Inside Rana kept whimpering. In between sobs what he said was that the day his mother returned to work, she collapsed on the way back near their dwelling. Neighbors brought her in and called for him. By the time she was taken to the nearby hospital for the poor, her condition had declined rapidly. There were seizures and vomiting, and before she could get proper care at the hospital, she passed away in front of him the next day. Fortunately some of their neighbors were with him who took charge to get the body released and cremated. But as her son, people said he had to perform the Sradh or the last rites, to release his mother's soul from the agonizing cycle of birth and rebirth engaging in penance. 

He had come to Pritha to ask for some money for the ceremony. 

Pritha slumped on to a chair at the dining table. God doesn't spare anybody, she thought. Not even a child. She looked at the child with blank eyes for a while and then got up to get some money from her cupboard. Her gait was slow and tired and she released a long sigh as she came back and sat down. The boy was sitting on the floor on the piece of jute that he was carrying as is the custom among the Hindus. The white wrap that draped around his frail form looked too new on him and would be his mantle till the Sradh was over. 

" Are you having an elaborate ceremony?" Pritha asked Rana.

"I don't know. Shadhon Jethu says I must do the right thing and properly so Maa could be happy and proud of me. So I need a lot of money to do the puja and feed the Brahmins." Rana said looking at the floor. 

Pritha realized the boy was following orders and was perhaps taken for a ride even at his poor mother's expense. 

"Who is Shadhon Jethu?" Pritha scowled.

"Our neighbor next door," Rana said with no emotion. The boy obviously looked famished. She wanted to feed him but she knew he had been briefed not to take food from other homes as is the norm when there has been a death in a Hindu family.

"When is the sradh?" Pritha asked quietly.

"Day after tomorrow." Rana took a quick gulp of his own spit in the mouth.

"And after that?"

"I dont' know." Rana looked up at her for the first time. There was uncertainty mixed with fear in those eyes.

"What do you mean?" Pritha frowned.

"I don't know where I'll be. Jethu said he would put me in a boy's centre where they give you food and clothes against some light work..... or maybe to what they call a Home...." he paused for a moment and then continued, "Perhaps I'll move into one of those."

"What happens to the place where you already are?" Pritha was not quite pleased with the turn of events in little Rana's life.

"They have given the place to Shadhon Jethu as I cannot pay the rent." It figures, Pritha thought. Turn out the child and take away his home.

"And your Maa's belongings?"

"I can take what I want, the rest they will throw away as no one would be interested in them." Rana's eyes were welling up. 

Pritha rose from her chair quite alarmed. Visions of Rana in a rehabilitation centre with a pack of street boys into drugs and many other vices flashed through her mind. Horror stories of what happened to the innocent in those Homes nauseated her.

"And school?" she said with a hiss."Do you go to school?"

"I have no idea," Rana wiped his eyes and tried to look brave."Jethu says they teach you new skills at the Homes to get a proper job in life." 

Pritha was pained to realize the stark reality of the existence of the unfortunate. It was a tragic revelation. There was perhaps no sign of grief among those surrounding the child; no home that would embrace him as a member and no one who cared about the future of the orphaned child. Before everything was over his dwelling and belongings were being auctioned off casually as redundant items. Rana himself was thrown into the big bad world to learn the ropes of survival the hard way. Life could be so relentlessly cruel and sinister at times, she thought.

"Just leave your address here and I shall be there for the sradh, day after tomorrow." Pritha gave Shonkori's full-month's salary that she owed her and five-hundred rupees extra to the boy and asked him to keep in touch. 

"But it's not taking place in the slum." Rana said between breaths  with sudden realization .

"Then where are you having it?"

"Jethu said it's better to do it at the Mandir near the river."

"Mandir ? River? Where?" Pritha was a little taken aback.

"The Kaali Mandir next to the bridge. Way out there.” He went to the balcony and pointed a finger in the direction of the tram lines running over the bridge and down below where a thin ribbon of a waterway ran past the hut-ments.

When Rana left, Pritha sat there with the boy's address on a chit of paper in her hand and ruminated. It was not nice for a child to lose his mother at this stage in life when it had just begun, she thought. Is there no relative or friend who could give the boy a home, some shelter ! She wondered. She got up and paced the room with a vacant mind that wouldn't let her rest either. It left a bad taste in her mouth. Then she thought of more practical things at hand. She should talk to Shyamoli, the maid upstairs, to give her someone to take Shonkori's place. The day soon fell into the traps of routine work and she forgot about Rana's displacement.

*******

4. Pritha managed to get a cab to go over the bridge to the Kaali Temple where the Sradh was to be performed by little Rana. When they stopped in front of the temple, she found throngs of people crowding the place but she didn't see anyone vaguely resembling the boy. Of course, she didn't know how Rana would look with his head shaved as he must sacrifice the remains of his hair and nails to close one chapter for regeneration as life has to continue thereafter. 

She asked people around for a ceremony being held there for a departed soul. People gave vague answers and some said honestly that they had no idea. They were only interested in receiving blessings from Kaali Mata. Finally, when she spotted a priest in faded saffron, she got some answers. She was told that there was a ceremony being held behind the temple under a banyan tree for someone. If it was a sradh he wouldn't know. Pritha moved gingerly to the back of the temple over a dirt filled open field.

There was a priest with a child performing some rites in the shade of a big banyan tree. The place was littered with junk, empty plastic water bottles and rags and rubble. A small area was cleared up in the shade to perform the puja under the tree that looked at least a hundred years old with its heavy branches touching what was left of a ravine next to it.  Some food, some clothing and essentials, were displayed on a straw mat next to the boy. Pritha made a note of the pair of sandals and an umbrella on the mat too. It was everything that a living person needed to carry to the other world. Some scrawny looking hungry pie-dogs were hovering around to get food after the show was over. Street dogs had picked up the way of life in a city like Calcutta. They had learnt that patience usually paid off in situations like this.There were two men and a woman sitting close by. A row of five men sat on the side in shabby clothes and bidis in hand, busy chattering away. They were the Brahmins Rana had to feed to secure blessings from for his mother's departed soul.

As Pritha neared the puja area, some of the dogs went slinking past her, as if in shame. The chattering of the five ravenous pure brahmins stopped. The two men and the woman turned to follow the gaze of the famished  bunch and grew curious. 

Suddenly the priest, performing the rites, looked up and gasped. He forgot his lines and kept repeating the same words for a while and finally he stopped to draw Rana's attention. Pritha was standing at a distance behind him. When he saw her, his mournful eyes sparkled. His face broke into a sad but grateful smile. Pritha just nodded and waved to him asking him to continue with what he was doing.

Lunch was a simple meal. Khichuri ,thin slivers of potato crispies and a bit of ghee to go with it followed by a laddoo or two at the end. Nothing elaborate. Pritha was offered some food on a banana leaf, but she said she'd rather take it home and eat. So it was wrapped up neatly by the woman and put in a plastic bag for her. She noticed that the priest declined to have anything cooked but a sweet and plain water from an earthen cup. But he was too busy putting all the items on display offered to the dead and the ancestors of the deceased in his dirty little cloth bag. The ceremony was over and the dogs got busy looking for morsels of food. When they found none, they decided to lick the banana leaves that still had flavours of the Khichuri and ghee.

Rana started to sniffle when he came close to where Pritha stood. She put her hand on his head and asked him to stop acting like a child. She told him that he was a grown-up now to fight life's battles alone. "Will you be able to do that?" Pritha asked him affectionately. 

Rana just inclined his head to say yes. In the last few days, he had lost considerable weight and his eyes looked too big for his small face. His white robe had gone grey with the passage of time, Pritha noticed. Perhaps his only other outfit now. She also saw him carrying all his belongings in a big plastic shopping bag, ready to move on. As they stood communicating in solemn silence with words thrown in in between, one of the men came forward to remind them that it was time to go.

"And you are....," Pritha left it at that wanting to know if he was a relative.

"He's Shadhon Jethu I told you about," the boy said. "He used to look after us." The man with the scruffy look and deep sunken eyes gave a greasy smile and grunted.

"Are you taking the boy with you to stay?" Pritha asked emaphatically reminding him of his neighborly duties.

"Oh, no. We poor people have no money to feed an extra mouth," the man said baring his yellow teeth.

"A centre for boys?" Pritha asked."What is it called?" Pritha had no expression on her face.

Shadhon looked nervous. He started to press his knuckles and said to the other man,"Why don't you explain it to Madam."

The man in the checked shirt and navy blue trousers came forward with the woman in tow. Taking out a visiting card from his shirt pocket, he gave the name of a well-known centre for orphaned kids. "Actually, Madam, it's a centre for runaway boys we pick up from railway stations and the roadside who need help. We give them food and lodging." The man smiled a heroic smile. Pritha knew the type. She was sure he had connections with the underworld and ruined young boys -- training them to engage in criminal activities eventually. She shuddered to think of Rana in the clutches of a gang like that.

"And....?" she took a look at the visiting card and pinned him with a piercing gaze that said she didn't believe him.

"Aaand... Madam, we give them some education and teach them skills that they can use to earn a living in life." The man was rubbing his hands as he tried to explain their boundless acts of generosity and  how clever the boys were at the Centre and how happy they seemed. She also learnt that the Centre was funded by a well-known foreign concern and money was pouring in to rehabilitate and take care of these destitute boys. 

Pritha aborted the lecture saying that she had heard of the Centre and that they were doing a commendable job. But at the back of her mind she began to wonder if the man had stolen the cards to impress and deceive people. These days there was no telling.

"But why to a centre?" she argued. "Isn't there any home he can stay with? No relatives or friends?" Her voice rose with impatience.

"Who will accept an orphan boy like this, Madam?" Shadhon came to the rescue of the guy from the Centre. "They will neglect him, make him work  and treat him badly. Then he'll run away and turn into a criminal. We don't want him to go through that." He ran his hand affectionately on Rana's shaved head. Pritha looked worried.

"There are many organisations today that offer help to the poor, Madam." Shadhon continued to enlighten her. "Maybe that's where the children are better off than being with a relative or a friend,"Shadhon cleared his throat. "Otherwise even people like you could also help out but they don't. They are indifferent and don't like society to laugh at them and talk behind their back." There was venom in those words.

Pritha kept quiet for a while and her eyes went back to the boy. Rana was looking at them talking and trying make out if they were fighting. He couldn't comprehend what was going on and what all this fuss about. 

"What if I do take him home and look after him?" Pritha couldn't believe she was actually conducting a deal with these guys over this dark, skinny slum boy!

There was a long silence for a while. The men looked at one another. They couldn't understand why the lady should offer to help. They grew suspicious and apprehensive.

"Do you want to take him home to work in your house?" This time it was the woman talking. 

Pritha didn't know what to say. She just shook her head. She thought for a while as she had to know herself why she should take the little boy home. It was a moment’s impulse that made her say so. What would Ravi have said, or Ramona or her other relatives? What would they think of this uncalculated act of kindness? Were they going to boycot her? Were they going to say she had lost her mind? She was quite blank in the head for a while and then suddenly she knelt down and looked the boy in the eye. 

The boy still looked apprehensive and exhausted. Perhaps he had had no time to mourn his mother's death and weep, or even find any comforting arms to envelope him and say all was going to be okay. He certainly looked scared and weary.

"Rana," Pritha's voice was filled with a flush of emotion, "would you like to come and stay with me?"

The boy looked with wonder in his eyes. He wasn't sure what Pritha meant by that. He looked up at Shadhon and the other man and woman. They looked down at him saying nothing. And when he saw that there was no hurt or anger in their eyes, he nodded hesitantly. 

Pritha got up carefully. Her ankles were giving her trouble again. 

"You heard the boy. Now what do you think we should do?" she asked the men who fell silent, thinking. 

"If you want, you can take him but take him as a member of your household, if you can," Pritha said to Shadhon, "and if you think, he'd be better off in your care with the other boys, you may take him with you too.” Her voice quivered a little. “But I'll be checking on his progress, and an organization of your stature wouldn't like to get a bad name,” she stared at the boy who still looked confused. “But I must tell you, I may be an old woman but I have very long arms if I want to stretch them." She sounded ominous meaning to warn them.

"Madam, there's no need to stress the fact," the man from the Centre scowled. He felt insulted."Our's is a reputable organization and we don't lack money. But if you ask me, I would say he should go with you if he wants to and if you have faith in him. In fact, we want more and more people like you to come forward to accept unfortunate kids and give them a home. That's all they need. But we find no such people coming forward. Instead, most people would like to hire them as child-workers -- as cheap labour." He grimaced.

Pritha was pleased to hear that. She wondered if she could be a bit generous and make a difference in the child's life instead. 

"Are you going to adopt him?" the woman asked suddenly. Her eyes were sharp and she was looking at Pritha with suspicion and disbelief.

"You mean legally adopt him?" Pritha thought for a while."I don’t think so. I would like to give him shelter and look after him,” she grew serious. “I would also like to give him a good education so he can look after himself later in life." Her eyes grew moist. She remembered the number of unknown boys who took shelter in her Granddad's mansion in North Calcutta, who still visited them after Durga Puja to touch their feet without fail. They were all well established in life.

When the boy was ready to go Shadhon hugged him and asked him to be good. He told him he was there whenever he needed him but he also added that he knew he was in good hands and wouldn't need him.

The boy started choking.

On the way back home, Pritha didn't know if she had done a favour to the orphaned boy or he did one to her at a time when she needed a purpose to go on. She made hurried mental plans of first feeding and clothing Rana properly. Soon she would find a good tutor before she could put him in a proper school. She must also clear one of the rooms next to hers. 

Pritha took in a fresh whiff of the fragrant air inside the temple while praying for Shonkori's soul. After a long time there would be light and laughter at home, she thought. When they came out of the temple, she tightened her grip on the boy’s arm. 

***************************** THE END ******************************

By: Dola Dutta Roy, Calcutta, India
Finished on Oct.1,2013