Dawn at Midnight.
Book 2: Blistered Feet. Chapter 5: Destructive Catastrophe
I applied for my maternity leave in my school. On first week of November, ChotoMa called Himadri and asked his permission to bring me to Kolkata. I was in my third trimester and I was due on first week of February. ChotoMa wanted to take care of me until my baby would be born.
Himadri came with me to Kolkata. Before leaving, he kissed my cheeks and said---“Take care. I will call you every day.”
I was bit offended, I thought he would go down on his knees and kiss my protruding womb and would talk to the unborn baby. However, he did not do anything of that sort.
I stood at the balcony and watched him as he boarded the taxi and went away.
ChotoMa understood my sorrow and caressed my cheeks---“Paree, it is nature of all males. They do not understand the pains, that a mother has to bear. Only when the child is born, they take the credit. Come on cheer up, your ChotoMa is here to take care of you.”
I smiled at ChotoMa and hugged her.
She took me inside her room that night and gave me a beautiful mauve coloured chiffon saree.
ChotoMa said to me---“This is for your birthday. I missed my child’s birthday this year.”
She kissed my forehead.
ChotoMa and Babu were very much concerned as I had some minor complications with my uterus. My blood pressure was little high but my gynecologist explained it to ChotoMa that it was normal. She prescribed me to take walk after dinner. Sometimes I experienced a sharp pain emancipating from the back of my spine, spiraling upwards surrounding my hips. At first, ChotoMa said that it was normal birth pains. I could feel my sapling’s kick on the walls of my womb. The throbbing sensation was awesome. It felt like a heaven to me. The feeling of those small kicks drowned those sharp, vein writhing pains.
I was very happy, the way ChotoMa treated me. Every evening, Babu used to bring chocolates and vanilla ice cream for me. He used to chop apples and other fruits like oranges for me.
Every morning, it was a usual routine for Babu to take me for a short morning walk in the garden.
---“ShonaMa, don’t stoop. ShonaMa don’t bend.”
Sometimes I felt so annoyed that I had to scold him playfully---“Nothing is going to happen to your grandchild, Babu. I am ok.”
Himadri called few times, after he left. All those conversation were very formal ones. He used to ask whether I had taken my medicines or not or normal queries about ChotoMa and Babu. “What was taking him away from me?” I was unable to understand then. Was it his work pressure or his excessive booze or his carnal hunger?
I observed that the second floor room was open. One day I entered that room and found that the bed was not there, neither there was the table and chair. I could not even find the old small wooden box that contained his glass marbles. I was not missing him then because it was he who had not contacted me. I smiled at myself “My fate that you are not here and you didn’t even contacted me. I had to surrender Abhimanyu. I am sorry.”
At times, I looked at the huge painting of “Death of Socrates” that graced the wall of the drawing room. He was really a beautiful painter.
It was last week of November. The winter was knocking softly on the door of Kolkata, whispering in its ears that it has arrived. Peoples were in their sweaters and cardigans. I was sitting in the drawing room and reading a novel. Babu was not present; he was out for some work. ChotoMa was at school as usual. Before he left, he kept all my foods on the dining table and my medicines on the centre table. He cautioned me not to go downstairs to open the door.
My attention broke as I heard the doorbell.
I went to the balcony to find out as that could have ranged the bell. I saw a postman.
He shouted from downstairs---“Madam, airmail.”
“Airmail?” I thought. “Who could have send an airmail and to whom?”
Somehow, I went downstairs to collect the letter.
I took the white envelop and came to the drawing room.
The moment I saw the address and the handwriting, I felt a thunder to strike upon me. Every single nerve and veins shook. I could not believe my eyes. My hands trembled, my chest shook violently. To support myself, I held the railing of the staircase.
It was Abhimanyu’s handwriting on the envelop, postage stamp was of Brazil. His style of writing “S” was very artistic whenever he wrote my name. Very slowly, I came to my room. I was shaking like a twig caught in a breeze.
My heart and soul was racing very fast. “What could be written in that letter? Was he asking my forgiveness? Does that contain letters that he has married to someone else?”
I opened the envelop, it was blank. An electric pulse ran in my brain. I lit a candle and placed the letter in front of the flame. It was written in lemon juice, invisible to all.
***********************
“My eve.
The fairy of my dreams,
This is the thirty-second letter I am writing to you.
By now, you must be teaching in some school or college.
I know by my heart that you are still the same.
I miss you very much every day, every hour, every second. One thousand one hundred days have passed. However, when I write these letters to you, I know that your silence is my strength that kept me alive for so long. Your small silk handkerchief still smells your jasmine fragrance. Your Jasmine fragrance blew the fire in my life and kept me alive.
I am currently in Brazil. I have been promoted to a senior technician. I am returning to India in last week of December.
I will kneel before Maithili and beg her to forgive me.
I will talk to Grand Aunt and will persuade her. I will ask her for her doll, for my fairy. I am sure; she will sympathize us more than my mother. I have prepared myself to crush her ego and her arrogance. This time, I am not going to ask her for your hand. This time, I will earn you with every drop of blood in my veins.
I will call Kalyani once I reach India.
My sweet kisses, on your beautiful forehead, where I first kissed.
Keep a smiling eye on the door. Your thief can knock in anytime.”
***********************
A huge turbulent swell suddenly culminated inside my chest. I took a deep breath and bit my lower lips to control that wave from crashing on the shore of my heart and mind. Nevertheless, that wave was far stronger than my strength. I pressed the paper on my chest and threw my head back.
I closed my eyes and clenched my jaws and cried out “NO…. this cannot be possible”.
I could not believe what I saw in front of my sniveled eyes. He was standing there in front of me. I shook my head violently “GO AWAY, GO AWAY.”
It was not tear drops, it was blood, which was gushing out through my eyes and ears and nose. My head was on the verge of explosion. I felt the veins of my head and neck could rupture anytime.
I clenched my fist and banged my forehead. “What have I done? Why I lost the faith in you?”
I kept on reading those invisible words repeatedly. Even if I was Mrs. Suchismita Karmakar, I kissed and smelled the envelop. I tried hard to press the piece of paper with my chest so that it could dissolve with the drops of blood in my veins. I tried to feel his warm touch through that piece of paper on my bosom.
I crept on the bed and cried out loudly thumping my head on the pillow. There was no one to hear and understand my pain. I could not close my eyes. Whenever I closed my eyes, I felt that he was there in front of smiling.
I got hurled into a deep dark oblivion of pain and vacuous. I crept in my shell of destitute and sorrow. Every pores of my skin was cursing ChotoMa and me. I was unable to sleep, I was unable to take my food, and I was unable to find myself in a normal condition. I was so much depressed that my health started to deteriorate. I could not come into terms with the naked truth that those persons, whom we adored most in this whole world, betrayed us both. For Abhimanyu they were his parents and for me ChotoMa.
The pains were evident and it showed all over my face. ChotoMa kept on asking me as what had happened. I could not mutter any word. I felt like stabbing my heart whenever she talked to me. I kept myself aloof from the whole world, in my room for two long days. ChotoMa and Babu were very much agitated with my behavior. They were at their wits end. They were unable to understand as what could have happened to me. They kept me asking whether I had a fight with Himadri or not. With every question, I only shook my head like a vengeful idol. They even could not fathom my rage and pain from my bloodied eyes. My ears burnt every moment; I looked at the bed, the bookshelf, the table. All were his; he was shifted to the second floor so that I could come in his life.
All I could think was that “Abhimanyu never left my side. He was always there with me. Only our fate, which was all due to ChotoMa, not even it was God’s wish to separate us.”
For whole two days, I could not talk to anyone properly. Himadri called me few times; I had to feign my pains and talked with him very normally.
On the third day, I pulled up myself. I told to myself “I had to come out of this somehow and inform my baby prince. I will live the rest of my life as a corpse but he must not suffer.”
After a long time, I went inside the bathroom and sat under the shower. On the back of mind, it was running that I had an unborn verdure with me. I caressed my womb over my drenched gown and sobbed “My baby, for your sake only I will live.”
The cold water was unable to extinguish the impending anger in my mind and soul. I felt a soft rumble in my womb. My baby whispered to me “Please do not cry, Ma.”
I wiped my face and eyes, came out of the bathroom, and changed my dress.
Book 2: Blistered Feet. Chapter 5: Destructive Catastrophe
I applied for my maternity leave in my school. On first week of November, ChotoMa called Himadri and asked his permission to bring me to Kolkata. I was in my third trimester and I was due on first week of February. ChotoMa wanted to take care of me until my baby would be born.
Himadri came with me to Kolkata. Before leaving, he kissed my cheeks and said---“Take care. I will call you every day.”
I was bit offended, I thought he would go down on his knees and kiss my protruding womb and would talk to the unborn baby. However, he did not do anything of that sort.
I stood at the balcony and watched him as he boarded the taxi and went away.
ChotoMa understood my sorrow and caressed my cheeks---“Paree, it is nature of all males. They do not understand the pains, that a mother has to bear. Only when the child is born, they take the credit. Come on cheer up, your ChotoMa is here to take care of you.”
I smiled at ChotoMa and hugged her.
She took me inside her room that night and gave me a beautiful mauve coloured chiffon saree.
ChotoMa said to me---“This is for your birthday. I missed my child’s birthday this year.”
She kissed my forehead.
ChotoMa and Babu were very much concerned as I had some minor complications with my uterus. My blood pressure was little high but my gynecologist explained it to ChotoMa that it was normal. She prescribed me to take walk after dinner. Sometimes I experienced a sharp pain emancipating from the back of my spine, spiraling upwards surrounding my hips. At first, ChotoMa said that it was normal birth pains. I could feel my sapling’s kick on the walls of my womb. The throbbing sensation was awesome. It felt like a heaven to me. The feeling of those small kicks drowned those sharp, vein writhing pains.
I was very happy, the way ChotoMa treated me. Every evening, Babu used to bring chocolates and vanilla ice cream for me. He used to chop apples and other fruits like oranges for me.
Every morning, it was a usual routine for Babu to take me for a short morning walk in the garden.
---“ShonaMa, don’t stoop. ShonaMa don’t bend.”
Sometimes I felt so annoyed that I had to scold him playfully---“Nothing is going to happen to your grandchild, Babu. I am ok.”
Himadri called few times, after he left. All those conversation were very formal ones. He used to ask whether I had taken my medicines or not or normal queries about ChotoMa and Babu. “What was taking him away from me?” I was unable to understand then. Was it his work pressure or his excessive booze or his carnal hunger?
I observed that the second floor room was open. One day I entered that room and found that the bed was not there, neither there was the table and chair. I could not even find the old small wooden box that contained his glass marbles. I was not missing him then because it was he who had not contacted me. I smiled at myself “My fate that you are not here and you didn’t even contacted me. I had to surrender Abhimanyu. I am sorry.”
At times, I looked at the huge painting of “Death of Socrates” that graced the wall of the drawing room. He was really a beautiful painter.
It was last week of November. The winter was knocking softly on the door of Kolkata, whispering in its ears that it has arrived. Peoples were in their sweaters and cardigans. I was sitting in the drawing room and reading a novel. Babu was not present; he was out for some work. ChotoMa was at school as usual. Before he left, he kept all my foods on the dining table and my medicines on the centre table. He cautioned me not to go downstairs to open the door.
My attention broke as I heard the doorbell.
I went to the balcony to find out as that could have ranged the bell. I saw a postman.
He shouted from downstairs---“Madam, airmail.”
“Airmail?” I thought. “Who could have send an airmail and to whom?”
Somehow, I went downstairs to collect the letter.
I took the white envelop and came to the drawing room.
The moment I saw the address and the handwriting, I felt a thunder to strike upon me. Every single nerve and veins shook. I could not believe my eyes. My hands trembled, my chest shook violently. To support myself, I held the railing of the staircase.
It was Abhimanyu’s handwriting on the envelop, postage stamp was of Brazil. His style of writing “S” was very artistic whenever he wrote my name. Very slowly, I came to my room. I was shaking like a twig caught in a breeze.
My heart and soul was racing very fast. “What could be written in that letter? Was he asking my forgiveness? Does that contain letters that he has married to someone else?”
I opened the envelop, it was blank. An electric pulse ran in my brain. I lit a candle and placed the letter in front of the flame. It was written in lemon juice, invisible to all.
***********************
“My eve.
The fairy of my dreams,
This is the thirty-second letter I am writing to you.
By now, you must be teaching in some school or college.
I know by my heart that you are still the same.
I miss you very much every day, every hour, every second. One thousand one hundred days have passed. However, when I write these letters to you, I know that your silence is my strength that kept me alive for so long. Your small silk handkerchief still smells your jasmine fragrance. Your Jasmine fragrance blew the fire in my life and kept me alive.
I am currently in Brazil. I have been promoted to a senior technician. I am returning to India in last week of December.
I will kneel before Maithili and beg her to forgive me.
I will talk to Grand Aunt and will persuade her. I will ask her for her doll, for my fairy. I am sure; she will sympathize us more than my mother. I have prepared myself to crush her ego and her arrogance. This time, I am not going to ask her for your hand. This time, I will earn you with every drop of blood in my veins.
I will call Kalyani once I reach India.
My sweet kisses, on your beautiful forehead, where I first kissed.
Keep a smiling eye on the door. Your thief can knock in anytime.”
***********************
A huge turbulent swell suddenly culminated inside my chest. I took a deep breath and bit my lower lips to control that wave from crashing on the shore of my heart and mind. Nevertheless, that wave was far stronger than my strength. I pressed the paper on my chest and threw my head back.
I closed my eyes and clenched my jaws and cried out “NO…. this cannot be possible”.
I could not believe what I saw in front of my sniveled eyes. He was standing there in front of me. I shook my head violently “GO AWAY, GO AWAY.”
It was not tear drops, it was blood, which was gushing out through my eyes and ears and nose. My head was on the verge of explosion. I felt the veins of my head and neck could rupture anytime.
I clenched my fist and banged my forehead. “What have I done? Why I lost the faith in you?”
I kept on reading those invisible words repeatedly. Even if I was Mrs. Suchismita Karmakar, I kissed and smelled the envelop. I tried hard to press the piece of paper with my chest so that it could dissolve with the drops of blood in my veins. I tried to feel his warm touch through that piece of paper on my bosom.
I crept on the bed and cried out loudly thumping my head on the pillow. There was no one to hear and understand my pain. I could not close my eyes. Whenever I closed my eyes, I felt that he was there in front of smiling.
I got hurled into a deep dark oblivion of pain and vacuous. I crept in my shell of destitute and sorrow. Every pores of my skin was cursing ChotoMa and me. I was unable to sleep, I was unable to take my food, and I was unable to find myself in a normal condition. I was so much depressed that my health started to deteriorate. I could not come into terms with the naked truth that those persons, whom we adored most in this whole world, betrayed us both. For Abhimanyu they were his parents and for me ChotoMa.
The pains were evident and it showed all over my face. ChotoMa kept on asking me as what had happened. I could not mutter any word. I felt like stabbing my heart whenever she talked to me. I kept myself aloof from the whole world, in my room for two long days. ChotoMa and Babu were very much agitated with my behavior. They were at their wits end. They were unable to understand as what could have happened to me. They kept me asking whether I had a fight with Himadri or not. With every question, I only shook my head like a vengeful idol. They even could not fathom my rage and pain from my bloodied eyes. My ears burnt every moment; I looked at the bed, the bookshelf, the table. All were his; he was shifted to the second floor so that I could come in his life.
All I could think was that “Abhimanyu never left my side. He was always there with me. Only our fate, which was all due to ChotoMa, not even it was God’s wish to separate us.”
For whole two days, I could not talk to anyone properly. Himadri called me few times; I had to feign my pains and talked with him very normally.
On the third day, I pulled up myself. I told to myself “I had to come out of this somehow and inform my baby prince. I will live the rest of my life as a corpse but he must not suffer.”
After a long time, I went inside the bathroom and sat under the shower. On the back of mind, it was running that I had an unborn verdure with me. I caressed my womb over my drenched gown and sobbed “My baby, for your sake only I will live.”
The cold water was unable to extinguish the impending anger in my mind and soul. I felt a soft rumble in my womb. My baby whispered to me “Please do not cry, Ma.”
I wiped my face and eyes, came out of the bathroom, and changed my dress.