Divorce saga

It was around 11:30 p.m. Piku had finished his dinner and was lying down lazily on his bed. Saturday night, nothing much to do at hand. Pico scrolled some YouTube videos. Then he gave cursorial touch to his Facebook account.

10 years challenge was in Vogue. almost everyone he knew had been posting pictures of themselves 10 years back and now.

Piku remembered the fat Piku he used to be in 2009. There was a picture taken by a batchmate while he certain the medicine ward of North Bengal medical college. He had a pink shirt on with the stethoscope wound over his neck like a snake and serious look stamped on his face with chubby cheeks.

Years had gone by and he had shed those extra kilos. Scrolled through his recent pictures. He saw the background picture on his laptop. How different he looked! The Piku of 2009 would not recognise the Piku of 2019 if by chance the came face to face. Time had shaped him in such a manner, be it his body or his mind.

He was smarter; he was handsomer then used to be and still, he was stupid just as he was way back in 2009.

Some traits never leave you try how hard you may.

Piku was lost in himself when the mobile rang. It was Bidhu Bhushan Da. He was often called Bidhu by his batchmates whereas Piku called him Bhushan da.

‘I got my divorce paper today. The whole procedure is complete and now I am single again’, he said with the breaking voice. Piku had no idea how to respond to such emotional situations. He said after a pause, ‘jakgge finally you are free now’.

Bhushan da was quiet for sometime and then said, ‘what will I do now re?. You know today I sent back everything that her family had given me during our marriage. The bed, the mattress, everything’.

He went on to elaborate how bad and lonely he felt. Life felt meaningless to him now. When his wife was there he would argue with her. When she left he tried to woe her back. Finally, when things reached a point of no return, he had filed for a divorce.

He has been confused about the whole affair. He had missed date after date of the hearing which again led to arguments with his wife. She felt caged in the relationship. She wanted an escape. Fight and argue to whatever extent he may, he still loved her and wanted her in his life.

But you cannot keep a person close to you without that person’s free will. And when the other party had already decided this marriage was not going to last, can you do anything?

I think it is prudent to let go of people who don't want to stay after a certain point. Begging someone never yields respect. It can only get you sympathy.

‘Janis, she used me to rise up her career ladder. How much my mother and father had loved her as if she was their own daughter. They are the ones who were hurt the most after this affair. She made a career for herself and left the country. Now madam is in Canada. She has enrolled herself into some masters’ course in management. And soon afterwards, she will get herself a work permit and will settle down there. While the stupid me is sitting here and crying thinking about her. She who doesn't even bother’, he said with a sob in his voice. Probably he was drunk.

Off late he had taken to alcohol. The last time his family had gone out on a Europe trip Piku had gone one night to stay at his house because he felt lonely. After dinner they had gone out for a walk and when they got back he brought out a bottle of whiskey and emptied it down before going to sleep. Pico watched in surprise. This was not the Bhushan da he knew from college.

A failed relationship makes your life bitter just opposed to a successful relationship, that makes you a better person. Between ‘bitter and better’ there is difference of only  i and e, but how differently they change the meaning of life - in a bitter or better way...

Little Andaman

At the Andaman Islands…

While vacationing across the beautiful Andaman Islands, Piku had one wish that was still unfulfilled. Meat!

Yes, Piku was a meet lover. He loved his chicken for his breakfast, lunch as well as dinner. He could very well have a chicken leg as a snack in the evening.

When at Med School they had a guy from the Andaman Islands. One day as the talk turned to eating meat he was asked what were the different kinds of meat that he had taken. The air was ripe with BHAGAR controversy. Everywhere people were discussing about meat; what poor quality meat unsuspecting Kolkatana had been served all this while and they had relished and digested. Some were even of the opinion that BHAGAR meat helped to strengthen their immunity power and digestive system. It was an indirect indicator of the good health of a Bong's guts. If he could digest BHAGAR, he could practically digest anything.

Other more concerned citizens had new found interest in vegetarianism. Many of them felt veganism to be the way of life. Some had started bringing green leafy veggies for lunch - a small step towards good health, they would explain. Some people had even started shunning chicken shops completely, as if the live birds smelled of stale meat.

Back in the Med School, especially during the duty hours in the evening time when pang of hunger struck, nobody much bothered that what went down as long as it tasted good and made them feel heavy.

On one such occasion just after the evening rounds where over, the young doctors we are munching on chicken lollipops frisked in from nearby eatery. As the meat pieces on the lollipop made their way into the stomach, needless to say the topic deviated towards BHAGAR. What could have been laced with the chicken meat that they were eating - cow, dog, pig, cat…

Talking about different animals soon turned the topic towards animal meat that they had tasted so far. A guy said he had eaten beef when another admitted to enjoying pork in park Street. Someone had tasted snake meat in village. Amid such talk the guy from Andaman surprised everyone with crocodile! He had eaten crocodile meat and it tasted real good as per our statement. To the utter disbelief of everyone he described how a crocodile was caught, killed and its meat cooked and enjoyed.

This time during the vacation at Andaman Piku remembered the crocodile meat. Many of the beaches and the Islands where infested with the dangerous creatures. The warning signs on the beaches made Piku wonder if meat was available for him to taste - a culinary memory for him to take back home.

They had been to Neil Island and Piku had an awesome time. After returning from Neil, as they landed ashore on Port Blair, Piku asked the driver who had come to receive them at the port and drop them to their hotel if crocodile meat was available anywhere in Port Blair and if the meat was good to eat.

‘Yes indeed, the meat tastes very good. In fact it is much better than chicken’, said the driver. ‘However you will not be able to find crocodile meat here in Port Blair sir’, he said. On inquiring about availability of the meat he informed that crocodile meat was available at ‘little Andaman’. For that they needed to travel for around 8 hours on a ferry from Port Blair to Little Andaman.

Piku was not very fond of the limitless sea. It frightened him. He had always enjoyed the safety of the sea-shore while enjoying the waves splashing over it. The very idea of Blue water everywhere for 8 hours straight, was uncomfortable to Piku.

To do hell with the wretched organism! He was not going to risk eight hours on the dangerous sea water just to eat some man eating creature called to crocodile. Let people savour whatever they wanted to. Crocodile meat was not going down his belly.

Back in the City…

His cousin had just called. She was on the verge of a mental breakdown. She was happy. She was scared. She was sad. She did not know what she was.

Only thing she knew was ‘two lines’ on the prega news strip. She was pregnant! She had repeated the test and everytime it gave 2 lines indicating a positive result. She called her cousin to confirm if what she understood was actually what she understood.

‘Congrats Behna, Jiju did it! You are pregnant’, Piku said on the other end of the line. ‘But I am not mentally prepared the Dada’, she cried.

She was looking forward to her upcoming trip to Kolkata. She had taken a month long leave from her Mumbai office and would be down to the city for the Durga Puja celebration. Meanwhile as Piku's Facebook wall started filling up with the pictures from his Andaman trip, she also started planning to go on a week-long tour to the islands with her family.

Aunty seldom had a scope of going out and travelling. Her brother was still in college and uncle being an introvert guy would spend most of his time reading the newspaper or going out on long walks. And amid everything, after the household chores were done, aunty would be left to herself. She looked forward to her daughter.

Over the years her little naughty darling daughter had grown up into an understanding friend with whom she would share almost everything. She was looking forward to the upcoming Andaman trip as well.

But the two lines on prega news confused everyone. Aunty saw the dream of her walking along the coastline on Neil Island vanish into thin air. The pictures of Piku had come perfect.

And now this pregnancy! Couldn't her daughter be a little bit more cautious? Was this the right time? Was she even prepared for it?

If only their daughter had attempted pregnancy after another year, their son would have finished college and aunty could have been in Mumbai taking care of her darling child at the time of confinement. And amid everything she saw the dream of her much awaited Andaman trip vanish.

She felt the pang of anger towards her daughter. But then she was again happy for the new member. It was a mixture of strange emotions. Her little child would now be bringing into the world, another little child.

‘the child that took away her Andaman trip’, and she named the little one, ‘little Andaman’...

‘Andaman’ seems to be a boyish name’, Piku had observed munching on her famed Jhal Muri mixture. ‘what if its a girl?’, asked Piku.

‘Doesn't matter’, said aunty, ‘it will still be my little Andaman’...

Mr Bose takes Vertin

The afternoon of 24th August 2016. An otherwise uneventful Wednesday afternoon for Mr Bose. With nothing to do at hand he decided on having an afternoon siesta. He was soon snoring away into a peaceful sleep after a lunch composed of the routine Bengali maach bhaat. Kamal had cooked ‘parshe macher jhol’ along with 'Cholar dal’.

Although Mr Bose was never a fan of Pershe mach but being the worshipper of his wife, as usual he gulped down an entire fish as per instruction of his loving wife. After lunch he went into the room where his father-in-law once slept, turned on the AC and went off to sleep.

It was decided by Mrs Bose that her husband had been going through a tough time after her recent diagnosis of being a diabetic thus, resulting in her mood fluctuations as she was unable to eat a lot of things that she loved. She had to say no to her daily dose of roshogolla, plate full of rice, spice rich mutton, chicken rolls in the evening, just name of few.

Her inability to achieve satiety owing to all the restrictions set by her doctor led her to misbehave every now and then with her husband over whom she had absolute control. He was a devoted husband and she was a loving wife. She realised, he needed to have some rest from all the bickerings she had been throwing at him ever since she had been diagnosed to be diabetic.

So today he was supposed to have an afternoon nap after lunch. For the past 7 days she had been keeping him awake and and on his toes to do whatever errand came to her mind. The tasks ranged from filling the empty water bottles on table, to giving her a head massage, to staying awake with her because she was unable to sleep out of hunger because she had skipped that tasteless diabetic meal especially prepared by Kamal for her.

Needless to mention here that Mr Bose had also started taking a diabetic diet. He felt that having a diabetic diet would do good to his health and keep company for his wife.

Today morning as a blood test came within the permissible limits set by her physician, she treated herself with dose of rosogolla that had been drained off its syrup. As she gulped down the rosogolla, her husband handed over the medicines.

She looked at him and felt pity for the ageing handsome hunk cowed down by her immense love into a docile domesticated husband. His greying hair looked more grey and the baldness of his head look more bald. He must get some rest today, she immediately decided.

The satisfaction from rosogolla was going to be a strong sedative for her afternoon nap as well. If left on his own Mr Boss would turn on the TV and keep watching news till dinner time and as usual she took matters in her hand and ordered him to go to the other room and take a nap. Mr Bose followed her command like an obedient school boy.

It must be around 4 p.m. in the afternoon when Mrs Bose woke up. It was her usual tea time. She made two cups of Darjeeling tea and called Mr Bose. Soon they were sitting at the dining table sipping the afternoon tea while, the TV was turn on and played some local news on a regional TV channel.

Mrs boss suddenly felt the table move. She had cervical spondylosis and often suffered attacks of vertigo. The vertigo would soon be followed by nausea and sometimes vomiting. She was in no mood to destroy the beautiful afternoon. She decided on a preventive measure and immediately ordered Mr Bose to get her tablet vertin.

The physician had advised this tablet to her mother during their last visit when she complained of occasional dizziness and vertigo. Mrs Boss had a quick acting mind. She immediately ordered her husband to open the case of medicines that belonged to her mother. It was placed on the table where they were having tea. Soon the case was opened and she had a tablet of vertin in her hand which immediately gulped down.

Mr Bose watched her and  said, ‘you see I am also having vertigo’. ‘then you take one too’, she handed over another tablet of vertin to Mr bose which he obediently gulped down.

Mr Boss had just swallowed the tablet when his attention was broken by ulu from a flat in the adjacent tower. A woman in another flat has started blowing the conch shell. It was at this point he realised that it was actually an earthquake that had shook the house and his wife thought it was an attack of vertigo.

Poush Sonkranti, January, 2019

Went out on a picnic to Rupnarayan Tourist Lodge at Gadiara

A winter night's sleepless tale

2:05 a.m. is exactly what the time shows on my mobile screen. Had a hectic day at work and back home as well. And like any other day that I have been having recently, I had carried work from office back home.

At home I kept delaying my work for as long as past dinner time. Once filled to satiety on a cold winter's night, it gets even more difficult to sit with boring office work. However, finally I put myself on the laptop and sluggishly finished up the leftover work.

By the time I had completed my task and shutdown the laptop it was already 1:30 am. I was almost dying for sleep. I coulf drop dead at any moment from sleepiness.

Finally I forced myself out of the warm rug and brush my teeth. After peeing, I switched off the light and jump into my bed.

I have always loved winter nights. Warm and cosy beside large window with cold misty world outside. The mystery in the mist on a cold winter's day has always filled me with awe. As a child I'd often read myself to sleep with an adventure novel on such wintery night.

The room was dark, I was tired, everything was set. I got inside my rug and closed my eyes. It was cold and quiet. I could hear the noise from distant insects. A lonesome dog howled once in a while. The overbridge on belghoria expressway rumbled with the passage of a goods carrier.

I kept my eyes closed but then where was my sleep? Suddenly I felt more awake then I had been also the day! It was such an awkward feeling. Just moments back on my laptop I struggled to stay awake. And now that my work was done and I was in my bed sleep was nowhere near me.