A MEET WITH MY WOULD-BE
PRADIP KUMAR BISWAS
The
narrator of this story is a property agent. She short listed a suitable house
for a NRI artist client and went for due diligence and site study. During site
visit, she found a sketch of a young girl looking similar to her. The current
owner of this house drew this sketch. Later, while examining the deeds of the
house she found another startling fact. The owner Shantanu was the same man
with whom her marriage was finalized but the marriage did not take place.
Shortly after this, Shantanu was absconding. In the afternoon, at the time of
her leaving Shantanu explained why he avoided the marriage and ran away. Read on for the full story.
It was late morning when I came to your house. Now it is
late afternoon. The weak and tired sunrays from the western hill are, as if slowly
jumping out of the grills of window.
Keeping back the deeds of the house in the table, I came out of
the guest room and called the housekeeper. Only an hour is left for the train
to Kolkata. I shall better wait in the garden. The housekeeper maid said that
she already placed a table and if I would like my tea over there.
I run a small property agency. Besides the receptionist, we are
a two-member team, Bratin, and I. Bratin, a civil engineer, understands the
technical side and moves to sites. Out of compulsion, I also gathered a little
bit technical words during years of struggle for existence and the rest from
Bratin.
We have a reputed NRI artist client. He wants to settle in a
proper house. The location must meet his temperament and suitable for his
further creations. Although difficult, we short-listed a few suitable
houses. This house at Galudih, near Tatanagar, is one of them.
Bratin has suddenly caught chicken pox and it may take
time to come round. Galudih is not far off from Calcutta, only a few hours
train journey. I felt not to delay the site visit and due diligence of the
property otherwise, this good house may go out of hand.
As the train left the platform of Galudih I found only few local
tribals, some were my co-passengers. As per the house owner's description,
"Tagore house" is at a walking distance from the station.
But, it appeared that none has ever heard such a house here. Railway
personnel, with red and green flags in his hand, while going towards stationmaster’s
house, came to my rescue.
He heard the name, reacted like others but unlike other's
he was able to show me the house.
"You are from Calcutta
Rolling his both green and red flags, he pointed with one of
them
“You see that house on the small Hillock. We reach there by short
cut within minutes. There is a spiral drive way also."
Looking once again at me he said, "That house belongs to Thekedar Sahab (Civil construction Contractor). His pick-up Jeep shall arrive just now to pick up those materials. If you are his guest, you better go by that Jeep.”
The driver clicked a button on a remote
panel and the gates opened automatically and closed after we are on the 'S'
shaped red soil driveway road cutting across the gardens and lawns on both
side.
A cool flower scented breeze from the
lotus pond beside the Portico welcomed me. While few gardeners were unloading
the containers, one of them ushered me to the drawing room.
You arrived within seconds and greeted
me. After initial exchanges, we settled quickly.
Ten years from now, you came here and
seeing the site, you had an idea to set up a resort. The property belonged to
an Anglo-Indian lady, who sold it a throw away price before going to settle in Australia
The whole set up was in a dying state.
The hill house, the old artesian aquifer, the garden, and the pond were
gradually revived one by one.
Meanwhile the proposal for World Bank
funded dam came up and you won the bid to build a part of the dam. The idea of
resort business was kept aside. This house became occasional rest house for few
selected friends and few movie outdoor shooting locations. The garden, poultry
in the adjoining area, is yielding some revenue.
While all this talking was going on, I
felt as if you were trying to relocate something in your memory, some thing out
from this topic.
Looking at your watch, you got to your
feet and said, "Unfortunately today is the final measurement day of the
part of dam area built by us. The engineer-in-charge may arrive at any time in
time at the site. I am compelled to go there."
Handing me a big file cover you said,”
This file contains the original papers of this property, Tax receipts, recent
searching results by other parties. Please go through all these. You are at
liberty to visit all the part of this property and every rooms of this house.
Meanwhile the only train going back to Calcutta
I walked almost about one kilometer in
length and about half a kilometer in breadth. Seeing all these, I could not
resist myself for taking a rest in the palm tree shaded pond surrounding the
gardens.
One of the gardeners arrived with pairs
of green coconut. Sipping the coconut water drink I felt relaxed.
Sitting from here, I took another look
at the house. At the roof top there is a single big circular room with glass
windows. I must see this room before settling down in the guest room and
checking the papers of the house.
From this roof, in the background of the
hills on either side of the river and the partly constructed dam, the moving
dumpers, and people working there, all appeared like small battery powered
toys.
On all sides of this terrace, the distant
series of hills are visible and appears to be straight out of a landscape painting.
The single room at the central part of this floor has a slanting roof and
number of glass windows on all sides.
The mounted slanting drawing board
occupies the central part of the room. At another corner, there is an artist’s
drawing board along with a blank canvass.
On opening cross-windows on both side of
the wall, the wet breeze from the lotus pond filled the room with flower scents
from the gardens.
I was sure my client would certainly
love this house. The outside terrace contains unending series of nature made
landscapes, which may inspire his mood.
A strong gust of wind suddenly entered
the room. Before I could close one of the windows, some paper bunches fell of
from the self at the corner.
Closing the window, I was collecting the
bunch of papers to put back to the self. Few sketches of the side view of a
young woman came in my hand. There were some landscape paintings, all marked as
'Shantanu'-the owner of this house.
That pencil sketch was marked as 'my
would be' and the subject is some face as if known to me. I stopped my spilt
second's glimpse and kept back the folder in its own place.
Accidentally and unintentionally, I
intruded into some one's personal life and I felt sorry for it. In quick but
careful steps, I came down to the ground floor and decided to concentrate into
the legal papers of the house.
The first Para
of the title page of the deed described the legal identification of the
previous owner. This was followed by the Identity of the present owner, the
then buyer of the House Shantanu Ghosh, son of late.... and residing at....
Sipping a part of water from the glass,
I calmed my thumping heart and read once again the title page, and stopped reading
the deed. The sketches I saw in the terrace room could be mine.
My mind was reeling back.
While we were talking, you were trying
and possibly successful in placing me. I
could not recognize you. It was not possible for me. Ten years from now, I just saw a glimpse of
you.
That
was an evening of winter and an important part of the 'arranged marriage
system'. You came to meet me.
I
just passed my law exams and my name is Soma. That was all I replied. No other
questions were asked either by you or by your companions. I had the feedback
that you are a civil engineer in P.W.D.
I left the drawing room and half an hour
later the whole family was celebrating the news with my relatives that the
"boy liked".
My aunt, the only elderly lady in my
house after my mother expired, asked whether I agree to this proposal with a
saying, "We the women here are like water and take the shape of the water
pot."
A month later, colder than the last
meet, I was waiting for you with a traditional bridal dress and make up. Your
arrival at our house was getting delayed.
Your house was not far-off but no one
was answering the telephones. Some one rushed to your house and brought sad
news at midnight.
Shortly after the groom's party left,
your mother had an heart attack and she expired. The groom’s party came back;
marriage for religious custom was postponed.
After the rituals were over there was
another bad news. You suddenly disappeared and there was no trace of you. There
were attempts to locate you by your relatives and from my family but it was in
vain.
My father was once again looking for a
suitable match but it was difficult to get married a girl whose proposed
marriage broke up following a sad event.
My father with his broken heart expired
after a year and I took over the responsibility to bring up my brother and
sister. In all these years, I had nothing but struggles after struggles and now
achieved a feeble glimpse of success.
The housemaid called me for lunch and
she apologized on behalf of you that you were held up at site and your return
is indefinite. I did not want to expose my present mental state and despite
unwillingness from the stomach, I tried to take something.
I could not take the lunch but took a
few spoons of curd and rice and went back to my room. This time I concentrated
on reading the legal papers and was on a responsible duty for my client.
Looking at my watch, I was about to
leave. Just at that time, your vehicle centered and halted with screeches on
tyres.
Hopping down quickly and with usual
words of apology, you said, “Train would be late by an hour. May we
spend a little time in just having Tea? If you decline I shall understand that
you did not forgive me at least this time."
While you excused for a quick wash and
change I settled in the same location at the garden controlling and
extinguishing the fumes and pain inside me from your last words of
"forgive me at least this time".
I forgot the old scar inside me long
back. A sudden death had stopped you to marry me. You ran away and began
something else and I was compelled to do something else.
I preferred to take care of my
responsibilities than marrying. But, what stopped you to marry someone else?
Why you limited yourself in just drawing few half-face sketch of a girl having some similarity with me?
What stopped you in coming back to me? Like many others, did you take me as
inauspicious?
Through corners of my eye, I saw you coming. I vainly tried to
become a professional real estate agent and said
"I was satisfied with this complex and checked the papers
also. I shall let you know the final deal in a few days time."
The housemaid placed big sandwiches and teapots. After she left,
you said slowly,
"That is O.K with me. I shall be at Calcutta
Munching a part of the grilled sandwich, a few words
certainly slipped off my tongue," Why do you want to sell off this nice
property? Are you planning to run away somewhere else this time also?”
Wrong! Wrong! I bit my lips and cursed myself but by that
time, the arrow has left the bow and hit the target. A swarm of sadness came to
your eyes and it flushed your face for a while.
Before I apologized, you quipped
“Ten year's back this place was almost dead. Now it is back to
it's own pace. It may stagnate if I continue here. Time has come to hand it
over to some one, who is also creative. He may add another stream of growth. I
shall go to some place else to start something new or revive the dormant
existing.
Previously, this place stagnated and then it stated decaying and
I saw it in a dying state. I learnt this lesson from this place.
You paused for a moment.
“The same thing happened in my family. It was a stagnated
environment from my childhood days and then death started in a row. The old
Banyan tree died first, and then in a row my grandfather, father, brother, and
sister died within a year. I was about to start a new life with you but my
mother died when the marriage party just left for your house. I tried to counsel
myself that my new life may change everything. But I was scared of
death, mentally ill and unfit to become your life partner. Something inside
told me to run and run and I came to this place. When I learnt this lesson of
life and cured myself it was too late to return to you."
I was silently hearing the words of a person who was my
'would be...' and stagnated as "would-be'.
The first bell of my return train and announcements of the
arrival were clearly heard from here. I took my bag and rose to my feet. It is
five minutes walk, possibly more quicker while walking down the slope and I
politely declined the 'vehicle drop' offer.
Just near the gate, I stumbled onto something and was
about to fall. Walking behind me, you extended your hand and saved me to fall.
Like this, we could have walked in our life but it did not happen. Tears now
rolled out from my eyes, no dam could prevent that, not even this Dam engineer.
Before entering the Galudih outer signal post, the train
was crossing the Bridge on Subarnarekha
River
As if after ten years, the postponed Sehanai of my marriage
is now playing the much-awaited tune at this station platform.
