RIDER ON A STRIDER

                                     RIDER ON A STRIDER 

                                 PRADIP KUMAR BISWAS   

This story is an entry to Fiction writing workshop. This story is developed and based on a Plot given by The fool and is linked to the following link.

 http://indifictionworkshop.blogspot.in/2012/09/rider-on-strider.html

(About me: I write what my characters speak among themselves or to me, so I am not a writer to but a steno to my characters.  I move out for my day to day work and the persons or places whatever I see creeps in my subconscious mind forming a dream sequence. When the dream ceases, I see the characters once again and they start talking. And there starts my stenography. I have many published and unpublished stories and one published novel “A Trek to Unknown” by Bibliofil.  Prior to this story, I never developed any plot of other. Here also I failed at first, but coincidentally, I met with two characters recently,   who installed and trained us for  two software packages that our company bought. One was an ordinary but very sharp software technician and another was V.P, also  known as ‘Hunterwali’ by her officemates. This story was based on their interaction with me.I am a geologist   by profession and lucky enough to visit places and persons around India and world for mineral exploration and mining. They all love me very much and I am their obedient Stenographer.)                   

Suddenly Meghna found, her horse has moved too fast and she is now isolated from her companions. An enemy warrior in black dress came out from a bush and his horse blocked her way. In quicker reflex, her sword flashed and she tried to defend the attack of the tall man by hitting his shoulder. The man helplessly lowered his head, only to be beheaded. However, just before that, he threw his javelin towards her. A tall dark man on a white horse appeared from nowhere. His Horse galloped high, his sword flashed like a lightning, and blocked the Javelin.  He looked back and raising his sword signaled the Artillery behind him to start firing at the direction of the bridge on the river. Now, Meghna  had a glimpse of the Warrior. His face was covered with the protective hanging iron chains from his golden headgear. The bright embossing on his golden helmet and bright crown silver mark on his dress marked him as the strider of the main clan. As a leader of the sub-clan, she saluted him and he reciprocated and  his horse carried him away fast 

The “boom- boom” deafening sound of the shelling started from their side were enough to pull her from her bed. Meghna opened her eyes and   she heard clearly the sound of another bomb. She got up and looked through the big windows. The smokes can be seen still. It is from the main road.

Today is 20^th September, the day of “Bharat Bandh”. There could be a clash between the ruling and opposition political parties. Somewhere from her room there was a clatter of breaking glass panes. She was now afraid and looked around. 

The morning TV live show was showing the activities of miscreants pelting stones to a bus and breaking the front glass into pieces. She was trying to recollect how she slept here.As usual, she got up early only to remember that it was the “Bharat Bandh” day and she might not be able to go to office. 

She opened the TV to check the News but found none. Keeping the TV on, she opened her computer to play her favorite online computer game of MMORPG but soon was asleep. 

The game she was playing currently is the War-Game led by a strider of a clan and Ex- army head of a country, now in exile. The queen, a foreign national, opened the country free for traders of her motherland. The Army head opposed the idea and he was banished. 

The general soon found out patriots like him in exile, united them, and formed a clan. The aim of this clan was to free their own country from the clutches of the queen.One can join the clan and be a member of the sub-clan depending upon the resource and the challenges the person can opt for. 

Meghna was inducted in the guerrilla warfare sub-clan and upon destroying two strategic positions; she is currently the group head of the sub clan. 

They are now near the border of the country. They have to capture a fort occupied by the enemy on the other side of a big deep river. There is a bridge on the river approaching the fort. But this heavily guarded bridge is covered by the artillery from the ramps of the fort.  Casualty on their side could be very high if they want to cross this bridge. 

Meghna was watching the move of their strider took to capture the bridge and the fort. She played the game upto this but soon she fell into sleep.As she woke up, she found an excellent move was taken by the strider. The enemy side kept the prisoner of wars (POWS) in front, led by a Captain from the Queens side. The tyrant captain compelled them to make a do or die fight with Meghna’s clan. The main force of the enemy with artillery coverage was behind the bridge approaching the fort and in the rampart of the Fort. 

The Move taken by the Strider.

·        The brave warriors sub clan on horse back swept past the POWs guarding the direct entry to captain’s arena.

·        Captain was isolated.

·        The POWs now surrenders to Striders clan. 

·        The artillery clan successfully demolished the bridge.

·        The enemy force was isolated.

·        POWS guided them to cross the river through a narrow and shallow part.

·        Meghna’s guerrilla sub-clan was given a cover to cross the river along with them.

Now the Strider ordered Meghna to make a successful operation to reach the rampart of the Fort.  Her sub-clan either silence or capture the Guns and pave the way for the gunner sub clan to start shelling at the enemy guarding on the spire road approach to the fort with minimum casualty and complete the operation before dawn. He also warned her that there is a full moon light in the sky. 

Looking at her watch, she left the game for sometime and  got to her feet. She must freshen up before the production report from the mines and progress reports of the Solar Power arrive. Soon a call came up. Thinking it as a call from the Port, she looked at the Number.

This was from her friend Tanya, the chief editor of BP Group. Tanya was her classmate at IIMA. She joined the BP group and Meghna in DFC Bank. 

After initial exchanges of welfares on both sides, Tanya reminded the interview Meghna promised might be held today. Tanya could send her representative Jona at her residence.

She said, “Do not worry about her. News people can reach any where at ease even during the All India Bandh. Right now Jona is giving live coverage in a locality close to yours. If you are comfortable now she may visit you within half an hour.”Meghna said “Send her, we shall have breakfast together.” 

Jona said “Congratulations Meghna. We all think that you long deserved this award of the Top Executive of the year by FICCI. How do you feel about it?”

Meghna “I consider this as recognition of Shyam Group as a whole. I only played my role as Vice-President of Business development and strategies”

 Jona “Before you joined, the group was plunged in debts and a bad achiever in Stock market. What strategies are implemented by you to pull it up?”

Meghna “Before I joined. Shyam group was in only Mining business, which was reeling with recessions. We diversified ourselves in Steel making, Solar, and wind Power. Diversifications in right and Pioneer areas brought in bright results in the balance sheet of the company.”

Jona “FICCI observed that your strategies alone made the Shyam group to turn around. How do you feel about it?”

Meghna bit her lips and paused a while and gave a diplomatic reply “We act as a team, some one initiates and others participate. The team develops and implements it to further.”

Jona “Do you initiate always and others…”

Meghna “I can not divulge company trade secrets.”

Meghna could not say that she found none so far.

None, including the fat CTC earners of few crores, the COO, directors and her colleagues senior and junior to her, has the capability to initiate or wish to do so.

Every time she has to initiate and face the lone battle of bottlenecks in each piece of new ventures that has brought the company to limelight.  Nobody ever participated in strategy, Business development, or Vision. They only criticized her but eat the cake every time merrily at the end. What she has got, apart from a good package? She knows people down or up her line call her “Hunterwalli”.

Jona broke the pause “Meghna, there is a   query from our readers and viewers. You are very much selective in your core team. Each member has to be bright, graduates from top institutes like IIMs and IITs and good connections. What is your comment on this?’

Meghna “It is true that each core team member is not only bright but they are very hard working and sincere. We have both, pass out from top institutes and people like me who started their career with basic qualifications and gradually obtained some more professional qualifications.

 After+2, I worked as an accounts-assistant, passed B.com through evening course and saved enough money for a coaching session for CAT and got into IIMA supported by Bank Loan. 

There is another Guy, Arup, currently our senior IT technician. He discontinued his studies because of family problems, began as a office boy but gradually obtained certifications and a degree in IT through correspondence course. Without him, we could not have ventured into our network communications linking the mining and solar power projects, installation, maintenance, and security of softwares at all the projects and our corporate office. In fact one of his brainwaves saved us a lot of foreign exchange for the computerized solar Power plant control room.”

Jona “ One  last query. What inspires you to your role?”Looking at the computer screen lying at her small desk, Jona further asked “Please forgive me. I am seeing an online role-playing game on your screen. Do you or someone else play this game?”

Meghna “I think you have answered your query by yourself. Yes, I play this game but in a small role. But, I learn a lot from the team members and from the Strider. Every time he makes excellent moves, compelling each to play their role and he also brings out the hidden groups that can participate. I think this person, who can play at ease with excellent strategies may be a very high and decision making executive in a big corporate sector. He cannot be any ordinary person. Someday I may be able to stumble into his identity and meet him in person.”  

Jona “Thank You Meghna, for sparing your time for this interview. I believe this story inspire our viewers and readers.”

Meghna said, “One moment Jona. Can you do me a favor? I think it shall be too unsafe for me to take out my car and reach office for a day like this. May you please drop me at your office?”

Jona “Oh yes Meghna, our pleasure. No one dares to touch our ‘Press’  vehicles” 

Meghna has a scheduled video conference with the manufacturers of solar photovoltaic modules at noon and she was looking at the last minute glance of the PowerPoint presentations. 

As usual, the attendance in the office was thin and she was feeling a bit nervous with the manipulation of control panel from the various video and audio outputs. 

She was missing Arup badly. Normally Arup and her secretary Zinta look after this. Arup anticipated his absence for the “Bandth” and showed her the necessary manipulations the server to connect, disconnect and synchronizations with mixers blending audio and Video inputs. He assured her that Zinta is sufficiently trained to handle this in his absence.

Zinta’s voice came over in the voice receiver “Mam, I am afraid. There is a snag in the system.   I tried all but it appears it is out of my reach”

Meghna said in her firm and cool voice “Come out of panic and get me Arup. Tell him to talk to me immediately” 

Arup was online within a few minutes. In his usual cool and confident voice, he said, “I told Zinta to put off the voice transponder for half an hour and run the antivirus programme. There could be a virus attack to copy our Solar operations files. It shall be all OK much before the CONCALL of US experts.”

Meghna said, “Could it be due to the computer games we allow during the Lunch recess?”

Arup said, “Mam, I check all the games that our employees play from their IP address. None found so far as malware. Any way Mam, I am trying to reach office by my Bike; I am already on my way.”

Meghna put down  her receiver. She had a sudden brainwave.  and called Zinta. “ Zinta, come to my room with a print out of the IP address and games logs  of all employees  from the server.  Make it fast.” 

Now she shall come to know whether anyone is playing that Trozan game or not. In this game, there is a chance you send hints to crack the passwords of the vital installations. 

She already doubts few and now she would  be able to catch their collars. Looking at the print outs, she suddenly stopped at the third page. Two people in the office are playing MMORPG games. One I.P is she but who the other is?

Looking at her pencil,Zinta said “Mam, that I.P is inside the server room. That is Arup’s computer.”

Meghna said “Do you know his passwords?” 

As Zinta nodded approvingly she said “Go, open his computer and I shall be there to get the links for the transponder response. After this, go to board room and check whether the video CONCALL is operating or not. Call Arup and tell him to join you in the Boardroom and further confirm. ”

Meghna saw Zinta moving to Boardroom arena and she hurriedly entered the Server room. Although unethical, but she exercised her right to know the details of the Game that any employee plays. She was expecting Arup might be playing at the best a supporting technical sub-head in this game.

Her heart thumped a   bit, Arup may come here at any moment. Within a second the game opened and her surprises one after another begin. 

This man Arup playing the role of Strider is just a simple Senior IT technician, not at least a HOD. She looked into the subroutines he designed for the possible and expected future strategies to put the Queen as a prisoner.  She looked at the glass doors and swiftly shutdown the computer.

The future game plan and strategies clearly reflect his hidden talent and potential to be an excellent decision maker. But all strategists make some mistake. He did a mistake about himself and his own career.   

Going back to her room, she was entering through the backside passage of Directors rooms and the Boardroom. Between the curtains, she glanced at the glass widows. 

Arup and Zinta are sitting near the console panel and they are sitting too close to each other. They are gazing more to each other than examining the console panels for the CONCAll. This is office after all; they should not forget the decorum. 

There are two long pending applications from Zinta and Arup. Zinta wanted a transfer to project side, close to her home. She recommended strongly and kept it in the out tray. Arup applied for the management quota to Study evening course Of MBA.

While she was busy putting the right words for the recommendations for Arup, someone inside from her talked.

“You are sure for the transfer of your efficient PS, Zinta. Are you Jealous?” 

“Stop talking rubbish. I am just helping my colleagues. Zinta should better be near her Parents and  Arup should not rot himself as  a senior technician of IT and talking to everybody. In case he faces any help for MBA programme, he should come to me. I am a good teacher.” 

“You sure only talking.”

“Yes only talking and often tips for a better role in MMRPG game. We are good friends too.”

“Only friends?”

“Oh get lost you buddy. I have a CONCOL to attend.” 

Arup just knocked outside her glass door. She felt as if her heart was beating too fast.  Has she become a rider on a Strider?

Making of my stories and Novel( Part 2)

                   The Making of my Stories and Novel  (Part 2)

This story “Feathers of Jungle Fowls”was another stenography from a person Budhia and others. The story in summary goes like this. If you are interested in reading the detail please click the following link

 http://pradipwritenow.blogspot.in/2012/03/feathers-of-jungle-fowl.html

Budhia loves the nature and moves in the forest.. Massod, the guest house keeper, negotiates with him and takes the whole lot of Jungle fowls. That night Massod earned a lot from a guest by providing him roasted jungle fowls in the dinner and arranged Somebari to entertain the guest in his room. Somebari was the proposed bride of Budhia but due to a trick pulled by Masood, the marriage could not take place. In that chilly night, Budhia’s father, an asthma patient, became very sick. Budhia needed firewood to keep his father warm. He ran to guesthouse where Masood stockpiled firewood. He was about to stumble on a red sari near the Sofa just opposite the closed bedroom of a guest and heard the moans of Somebari from the room of a guest. He recognized this red sari which he gifted Somebari just before the marriage. In the back yard of the guesthouse, he found out the firewood and heaps of the peeled feathers of the killed Jungle fowls. He took the firewood and the feathers also. He thought that firewood and the feathers burnt together might keep his father warmer.(Read more for the full story)  

I was working for a multi-national company for location of iron ore in Chhatisgarh along with one Australian colleague. One afternoon almost at the end of our work we saw a man down the valley. He was doing something to pull a chord for bird trap. Very soon, he vanished in the forest cover.

We were staying in the forest guest house on a hilltop after crossing the valley. As we were approaching the spiral way towards hilltop, we saw our guesthouse keeper, Masood was making a hard bargain with a person having two basketsful of live Jungle fowls,(Bon-Morag). Seeing our Jeep, Masood slid away.

We easily recognized the seller. He  was that man  busy with the bird trap.  He is Budhia, the local “Vaidji”, who sells medicinal herbs in the local weekly market. Few days before, we met him in the forest and he gladly guided us

Masood is a money lender also. He  cheats the local tribes by  lending money with very high interest in a never ending EMI and  also compel to agree them to his terms of complicated barter exchange. 

But this man, Budhia was talking so much about nature and now he was doing something illegal. He caught the Jungle fowls by laying a trap and he was bargaining  with Masood to sell them.   We were surprised.

On that night, we heard Masood yelling loudly. He caught a thief. We came out from our rooms and found Masood caught Budhia for stealing firewood from the guesthouse and each calling each a thief.

We settled this matter and told Masood to leave him along with firewood. Budhia went away without taking the heap of firewood.

Next day we heard Budhia’s father, an asthma patient expired. It was a chilly night in December. Possibly Budhia was stealing firewood to save his father from the cold. We could not trace Budhia after this incident but one night he came in my dream and narrated this story. 

MAKING OF MY STORIES AND NOVEL

               Making of my short stories and the Novel “ A Trek to unknown”

                                                          ( Part 1)

I am not a writer but a steno to my characters. That is my straight and simple confession to all the persons who kindly read my stories and the single Novel for  patiently for the entire content/  laugh at it/  throw it out in the waste paper bin.

Sometimes, a few among these kind persons either call or write to me. Most of them ask me what the background of the story is. I think a time has come up to blog about it than answer it individually.

As I go out from my residence to market/workplace/ and vice versa, my subconscious mind starts shooting. At night when I finally go to bed and close my eyes, the movie camera rolls back. I go on seeing the happenings of the day until a cold wave flows from the bottom of my leg and puts me to sleep. Any insomniac may try this.

However, in some night, this movie runs in a different way. As the movie progresses, suddenly a freeze shot appears. It could be a person of any age or a place.   I may be able to identify the person or place, but only the first part. In the later part, I see persons, inside or outside of a house or building, or some alien place or country which I have never seen before. Soon these persons start interacting among themselves. They talk, argue, smile, weep, cry, laugh and I listen to everything and very soon, I am compelled to get up. The characters start their activity once again and like a good steno, I write whatever they whisper among themselves. I cannot change anything on my own. If I do, they protest.

With this background I am now telling you the making of  two of my stories and the single novel “ A TREK TO UNKNOWN”.

The Story  “A meet with my would be” goes like this. To read the story, please click the following links. http://pradipwritenow.blogspot.in/2012/06/meet-with-my-would-be-kumar-biswas.html  

  

A property agent, during site visit finds that the current owner of this house Shantanu( a dam engineer and civil contractor) , was the same man with whom her marriage was finalized but could not take place. His mother died soon after the baarati party left for the marriage house and the marriage was postponed.  Shortly after this, Shantanu left his house and never returned.

While she was leaving, Shantanu explained that deaths in the family one after another made him too morbid to start a new life.  He avoided the marriage and ran away. She was not convinced but avoiding the argument, she only told herself “You fool, you should have come to me, I would have shared it and it could have been lessened or wiped out.” Just near the gate Shantanu saved her from falling. She thought they could have walked like that throughout the life but it did not happen Why?

Shantanu escorts her to Station to see her off. As the train was entering the station, the blows of whistle were as if the postponed tune of Shenai of her marriage with Shantanu.

This story dates back to 1980. I was doing prospecting work for copper in Singhbhum and stayed in Ghatsila and Mossabani area. Just near the railway station of Galudih( between Ghatsila and Tata) I saw a hill house on a flat land. One day I saw a couple coming down from that house. The woman was in front and the man was behind her. Suddenly she missed a step or so but the man extended his hand and saved her from falling. That day in the evening, while we were returning to our camp, our jeep saved a head on collision with a truck in the NH. Fortunately, only the jeep was damaged and we had only minor injuries and shock.  The accident site was near to railway station. We decided to catch a train from there to reach Ghatsila. The only train was in late midnight. I spread my body in a bench on the dark platform. I woke up on hearing some whispers in male and female voice. The female voice said, “You ran away like a coward, leaving me alone for whole life. I found you here but now tell me what to do” The man did not answer. A goods train was entering the platform and the engine light was flooding the platform. I now could see both of them clearly. They were the couple whom I saw in the day going down the steps from the Hill house. Who are these characters? Were they ex-lovers?

 In the following few days these two characters came in my dream who talked at length and compelled me to write this story. This was written in a bound field notebook and the last few lines were smudged. “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.” While taking the dictation (not writing, as I said earlier) for this line from the character, tears rolled down my cheek and fell on the notebook smudging the last lines. I had to rewrite these lines. That’s what, happens to me every time, I also share their emotions.

 ( Continued in Part 2, the making of “ Feathers of Jungle Fowl)

  

THE TWO FACES OF MARRIAGE “ARRANGED” OR “LOVE”

(This story was written as an entry to a contest of Indiblogger's Love Marriage ya Arranged marriage competition in association with Sony Entertainment Television, and linked to http://www.facebook.com/LoveYaArrange

Two old friends, One a VIP, film star and producer-director (Suparna Sen), and another (Rohan) just an ordinary person met in the waiting room of a remote railway Station. Recollecting their past, their present life also came up. Suparna underwent three different types of relations, love, arranged marriage and current live-in relation. Rohan failed to marry his lover and accepted an arranged marriage. Suparna felt that love and marriage are two different things and her arranged marriage was the best one while Rohan felt his intimate moments with his wife are intruded by the past memory of his lover. Rohan thought that whether marriage through “arranged” or “Love” success of either type of marriages cannot be predicated. People can be happy/unhappy/break apart by both types of marriages. Love should culminate into marriage. Never mind if the rules of the society or any other obstacle opposes it. If you really love, the power of love is immense to cross those obstacles. Read on for the full story.

Do we have a magnet and/ or magnetic material inside us pulling our old friends for a reunion? Otherwise how could I meet my old friend Suparna.

I was on my way from Vizag to Koraput through the comfortable train route to avoid the Journey by road through cumbersome hairpin bends of hilly terrain. However, something else happened.

At Simliguda, just before Arraku, the train stopped for long due to landslide and it might take long. The Landside has also closed for the alternative road connection to Koraput. I was proceeding to upper class waiting room for a comfortable rest, without knowing the surprise ahead.

I saw two vehicles just parked outside the fence of Station, one Honda city and another Xylo. Possibly, the occupants of the vehicles are already resting in the waiting room.. I saw a lady on the lone sofa. It took me few seconds to recognize her. At first, I just disbelieved my eyes. But, she recognized me instantly.

“Good Morning! Rohan, Old garbage! You must know the world is round and you cannot hide for long. ”

“Parn! How are you here?”

“I was on my way to Arrraku and further for selecting few outdoor locations for my upcoming film. But this Landslide on the road stooped me. I thought to make it by train but the same thing happened to this route.”

“But thank god! Just for this we could meet, long after a decade.”

Suparna and I were college friends of different streams and were on top demand for our respective performance in singing and drama in college socials. We were from different levels of society and life styles. Yet we were close friends, perhaps our common interest brought us closer.

After college days, Very soon, Suparna got her first break for a side role in a film but I realized that talent alone could only bring me medals from competitions. To become a playback singer I need the blessings of X-factor. I realized it was far to achieve. I must rather pass the final exam of CFA to survive in the world of hard reality but little knowing that soon another dream was going to shatter.

I shall tell you that a little later.

Suprna became a top film star in Bengali Movies and now a successful Producer-Director. She is also a well-known intellectual taking part in Local TV interviews on burning topics. Local people here are mostly tribal and may not have heard her name or seen her film. Now being a rainy season, there will not be any tourist and hence no fear of mobbing or any media exposures.

Her personal life is an open book, thanks to print and electronic media. First marriage, a love-marriage to a film producer lasted for two years, followed by an arranged marriage by Parents. Unfortunately, he died in an accident after four years of marriage, but blessed with a daughter, now a budding TV actor. Currently Suparna has a “live-in” relation with an industrialist NRI.

In the following hour we two friends, a common man and a VIP, were settled comfortably on a sofa. Her staff preferred to wait in their vehicle and placed the hot boxes and Thermos on the center table.

At this time of life, we had a varied experience of social and work life and achievements and our chats started revolving around that. I wanted to keep her and my personal life out of discussion. When two friends meet after a long time it could not be avoided either.

Munching a sandwich, she said, “How is Riya?”

I said, “Now I do not know about her.”

“I am sorry Rohan.”

“Our love did not mature into marriage. We both thought otherwise.”

“But I knew, she was serious about the relation to continue. If I am not hurting you anyway, what exactly went wrong?”

“She was afraid of the bitter oppositions with in-laws on her side and my side. True, on both sides, everybody was against it as we two were not only from two walks of society; we were also from two different religions. But, all these problems were temporary and I suggested her alternative and amicable practical solutions.”

“Like?”

“The oppositions would be strong initially and it would die out with time. She said the outcome of the opposition might spread to us and sour our relations.

I was even ready for a change of religion. She said No to it. To her, Religion is an embedded belief. It cannot be changed.

Lastly, I suggested, we could go to some other country and settle there. She argued there also and finally discarded the idea of getting married to me.

Our friendship metamorphosed to love; we came close to each other and fell for each other. Both were unaware of entering into a blind lane. The innocent bond of attraction, originating from nature between a male and a female of same species do not recognize the sheer rules of society.”

“Then what happened?”

“Her parents arranged a marriage for her to the most eligible bachelor of their community. I heard with two children she is settled nicely.”

“And You?”

“It was also an arranged marriage after three years of her marriage and I do not think I am unhappy with Snigdha.”

“You said that you were not happy either. Are you not fully happy?”

“I admit that. The trail of my real love could never become stale. It peeped through my intimate moments with Snigdha. She also felt it, but like a good Indian woman, never complained about it.” Suprna could not hide a long sigh and went to wash room, possibly to hide her tears.

Her companions brought news of temporary but safe clearance of road. However, the badly damaged railway track might take a day to restore.

Upon her repeated insistence, I accepted her offer to travel with her in her car.

“Can you drive my Honda?”

“I was the construction manager for making this hilly road.I know every hairpin bend of this hilly road like back of my palm.”

We are now crossing a hilly terrain through sharp hairpin bends and negotiating the curves in low gears but at ease. Rising to the Flat terrain of Plateau, she said after a long silence

“What a spectacular view! But I find you are till sad.”

“Not at all my friend, I am rather relieved to share my pain.”

“But now listen to me. I am the one who has undergone three different types of relations between a man and woman, two marriages and one current Live-in. I can tell you two important things. First, Love and marriage are two different things. Second, the relation which I most liked is the marriage arranged by my Parents.” She failed to manage a deep sigh and continued.

“Nitin and I loved each other madly but after marriage his love diverted into jealousy, over-possessiveness, and doubting. I tried to negotiate the first two aspects and was even ready to leave my film carrier. But, faith is the foundation of married life. When that is shaken, I could not help and walked out of relation.”

Tears now came out of her eyes. I preferred to remain silent. We both are having opposite experiences. Suparna married the one whom she loved but they broke apart. Riya and me loved each other but could not marry. The one I married could not replace Riya.

The pause between us helped Suparna to control her emotions. She continued further

“You know something, when you are in love, something like anesthesia acts on you. You fail to see the drawbacks on each other. When love matures into marriage if the state of anesthesia continues on both the marriage becomes successful otherwise not”

At the next moment something came out from my mouth “Suparna, tell me could you love your second husband same as your first marriage?” I cursed my lips but she did not mind my words.

“You can not compare between two. One is a pure love, which cannot be based on any reason, calculation, caste, religion, feasibility, or outcome. However, my second husband was caring, dependable and gave all support to inspiration to my career. He won my heart. I also loved him, but honestly speaking that was an imposed love and different from the uncontrollable strong mutual attraction between the two opposite sex by the rule of nature. But it was a very happy marriage”

She paused a little and continued “ I still say Love and Marriage are two different things. Two people may always fall in love. Later on if he or she also becomes suitable for partners of life, then they should marry. The suitability is a complex matter.”

I was angry now but was successful to suppress it but said dryly “Complex matter like?”

She looked at me and said,” There are many things. Getting married is no longer the matter between the two. Whether you like it or not, both of you are coming under the jurisdiction of society. You must be acceptable to society, family and last but not the least, not so far judged by both of you, the acceptability to each other. These are just the few. There are many other things. You need to have the assistance of some one who genuinely thinks the best for you because at that time both are under the sedation of love.”

I smiled and said, “So you are saying that like cricket there is the need for a third umpire and are you meaning the consent of Parents? What if when they say no? You look for another person to fall in love or go to matchmakers market with the parents and ask for few quotations. What happens to your abandoned lover? Force that person to do the same thing? In your second marriage how could you or your parents knew that he would be the sought after person.”

“ My parents knew him and his family. I also talked to him many times and said yes to the proposal”

I controlled my lips and said to myself only “ By talking and knowing a person and his family for years together can no where reach near to the inner mental qualities. At the best you make wild guesses only.”

“Slow Rohan, we are now going down the hill”

I swerved a little left for a vehicle coming up in opposite direction and said “Don’t worry, I am a cautious driver. However, what irritate me are the rules of our society. From Dhoti-Kurta-gamchha-Chhappal, we have changed to Suit-Tie-Boot, but remained in the days of great grand parents in our attitude particularly for marriage.”

Both of us remained silent for sometime. She was reading very minutely all the safety ads for safe drive and she pointed me to a overturned vehicle just near a big hoarding of drive safe. I smiled at her but I preferred to keep certain things inside my mind.

Her two marriages one “love” another “arranged” did not last long because of sheer luck. People can be happy/unhappy/break apart by both types of marriages. Love should culminate into marriage. Never mind if the rules of the society or any other obstacle opposes it. If you really love, the power of love is immense to cross those obstacles.

Just at Sunset, we were at outskirt of Arraku valley view point and was watching the breathtaking view of the valley. Darkness has just set in. As I switched on the headlights, Suparna insisted me to stay back at Arraku and proceed to Koraput early morning. I thought. “Better it is. We can have few beers and forget this bitter endless topic. The twin face of Marriage “Arranged” or “Love” is actually a bitter Gourd, beer is less bitter than that.”

                         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 and you are looking for... Oh! few people know it by that name, people call here as Tiger House."

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 is in the evening. You declined breakfast here but have lunch here please. We have every thing fresh here, starting from the kitchen garden to poultry at the back yard and Pond at the front. Please excuse me for few hours."

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 soon to complete certain formalities with my dam building client, you may call me then."

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 and the whistle started blowing loudly.

As if after ten years, the postponed Sehanai of my marriage is now playing the much-awaited tune at this station platform.