~ 1 ~
The present day…
It was 2 a.m. and Mohan woke up to the sound of 'dhinka chika'
blaring in his ears. "What in hell..." he exclaimed quite apparently
pissed off at being startled from his utopian dreams by this untimed phone
call. He snaked his hand out of his blanket and without even looking at the
screen, disconnected it. He covered his head quite snugly under an extra
pillow, and tried to go back to sleep. "Dhinka chika re e e e"...the
cell phone started ringing again.
"Son of a gun!" he yelled. Who was calling him at this
ungodly hour? "It better not be the bloody customer care", he said
aloud as he straightened the phone to see who the caller was. Rohini, her name flashed on the
screen. Mohan's irritation gave way to anxiousness. He picked it up at the last
ring.
"Hello, Rohini?"
No reply.
"What's the matter? Is everything all right? Hello?"
Silence.
"Rohi...uh!"
His words were abruptly greeted by the dial tone.
Mohan twitched his eyebrows in confusion. He stared at the phone
for a few seconds, half expecting something. After bargaining about whether to
call her back or not, he decided against it and finally put his mobile on the
bedside table. Putting his hands over his head (like he always did when he was
thinking hard about something), he stared into the dark ceiling.
"And there goes my sleep", he thought aloud.
Why was she calling him so late at night? And why then, did she
not say anything? Maybe something was troubling her, and she wanted to get it
off her mind. Maybe she needed help. Maybe she was feeling lonely. Maybe she
wanted to talk to him. As soon as he thought of this, his conscience chided him
for being so foolish. Why would she want to share her personal thoughts with
him, of all people? That too at two 'o' clock in the dead of the night? No,
maybe it was one of those calls that got connected by mistake. Like when
unknowingly the caller applies pressure on the buttons of the mobile; that
mostly results in random numbers getting typed on the screen, or blank messages
and sometimes even unintended calls. Yes, that's what it was. He tried to
sketch out the possible scenario. She must have been sleeping with the phone on
her bed, and had rolled over on it; when the buttons, aided by the SIM card,
deviously hatched a plot to connect a call to him and deprive him of his
precious slumber. That brought him to the image of her sleeping. Was she even
sleeping or...? I mean, it was not as if she had the bed all to herself.
Mohan pulled himself back from such melancholy assumptions. They
only gave him heartburn. But, if the call was mistakenly connected, then why
did it get disconnected? Maybe she was calling him. Was she? Mohan steeled
himself again. He would not let his heart fall prey to worthless hope. He knew
the perfect explanation. Yes, it was because she realised that she had called
him by mistake, and so as not to disturb him further, she’d silently cut the
call. Was it Mohan's sleep or something else that she didn't want to interrupt?
"Stop it, Mohan", he said to himself. He forced his eyes shut. But
they were strained for some reason and the harder that he tried to fall asleep,
the more they hurt. He knew there was no going back to sleep again.
~ 2 ~
About a week
ago…
The
day was sultry and suffocating, as was expected in the month of May in Kolkata.
Not that it could be used as an excuse to skip work. Mohan had picked up his
assignment from his employer’s office, and now rode on his second hand khatara bike in the heat and humidity
through the streets of the Gariahat-Rashbehari connector to his destination for
the day. Lakeview was a posh residential area nestled beside lush green parks
and the lake after which it was named. He was vaguely pleased, as it meant a
change for the better from the squalid locality he had to visit the previous
day.
Mohan
was a sales representative and maintenance agent, for a company that dealt in
assorted kitchen appliances. And he did his job well. Apart from maintenance
and repair, which he had got quite skilled at- thanks to the numerous
opportunities for practice-he also had the traits that convinced people very
easily. He spoke with confidence, no doubt, but there was an honesty and
innocence in his eyes that worked together to influence his customers. He was
the guy with that do-no-harm kind of personality. People trusted him. He was 28
years old, a contented bachelor, and lived alone in a small but cozy rented
room in one of the cheaper suburbs of the city. He basically had no family left,
none worthy of the term anyway, since his mother passed away about two years
ago. He had left his home soon after, for the city where one of his
acquaintances had got him the job. He could afford his basic necessities,
gather savings and even spend some money on recreation- the TV, a touchscreen
phone and his bike. His salary was enough to sustain him, and since he intended
not to extend the number of mouths to be fed, anytime in the near future, he
was quite satisfied. Not blissfully happy, no, but satisfied. In the absence of
any kind of responsibility to anyone else, he lived in the moment; figuring
things out as they came his way. No planning, no procrastinations, no
preconceptions.
At
first he attended to the maintenance appointments he had in two different
apartments; one for a microwave oven and the other for a gas cooking hob. He
basically had to clean out colonies of tiny cockroaches from the former and
replace a faulty knob of the latter. These alone took him more than three hours
to complete and by the time he had finished having lunch in a dhaba-that surprisingly turned out to be
more expensive than he’d anticipated (sabzi-roti
for 7 bucks apiece)-it was already two p.m. in the afternoon. It was now
time for door-to-door salesmanship, cold smiling refusals, the occasional
buyer, getting doors shut in his face, the works. It was all very usual and
expected; just the opposite of what was going to happen to him next.
He
went from door to door and from floor to floor of the apartment building adjacent
to the Kali temple. Since it was a
hot summer afternoon, most people were enjoying their siestas, and naturally
were annoyed by him. But patience was a virtue that was essential to his trade.
In spite of the conditions, Mohan had succeeded in getting three prospective
customers signed up for one of the ‘special offers’ sponsored by his company.
He rang the bell of the door next in line and waited for an answer. He was
feeling subtly happy, so he drummed his fingers on the frame of the large
mahogany door, to the tune of a soppy Bollywood song.
“Who
is it?” called a female voice from inside.
“I’m
from Gemini kitchen appliances, Ma’am. My company is offering a special…”
“No,
we don’t need anything.”
“Please,
Ma’am. It will only take a minute; if you’d just have a look at the brochure.”
It was followed by a momentary silence and
then the voice exclaimed, “Mohan, is that you?”
Mohan
was cut short by the opening of the door. And then he saw her standing there
right in front of his eyes. He could not believe it; he’d never thought he’d
meet her again. She was wearing a light blue saree and her hair was tied in a
loose bun, the front parted with a line of sindoor
in between. She had a faint smile on her lips, but somehow seemed fragile to
him. Was it the bass in her voice or the dark circles under her eyes? He
couldn’t decide. She looked beautiful, nevertheless. But then, she’d always
looked beautiful through Mohan’s eyes; even when she was a mess. Her figure
bore the slight buxomness that a few years of marriage brings with it. He would
have kept staring at her like that, but in an effort not to seem rude, he
regained his composure.
“Um,
Rohini…” he said.
“What
a pleasant surprise! I thought it sounded like you…what are you doing in
Kolkata?”
“Work.
What else?” he said pertly.
“No,
uh I didn’t know...”
“Well,
whatever. Do you have a kitchen chimney?” he broke the uneasiness. He was on
his job, and he was going to make this unexpected meeting as formal as he
could. Without waiting for an answer, he reached into his bag, and took out a
pamphlet and handed it to her. “There you go. It’s the new Electra-X kitchen
chimney, 10 litres, self-automated cleaning, just at Rs.25, 000. But if you
sign up today, our company is offering a special discount of 10% and assured
gifts”, he blurted out monotonously.
Rohini
glanced at the brochure and then said to him, “Would you like to come in?”
“No,
I am all right outside.”
“I
insist. It’s been a long time. I’d like it. You can tell me about the offer
inside. Please.”
The
apartment was a lavish one and the drawing room boasted of a dark leather sofa
set, a green marble centre table and a home theatre. While brocade curtains
concealed a wide window, a Greek bust stood in the corner and a couple of
portraits adorned the wall facing them. The air conditioner was turned on full
force and it gave him comfort from the prickling heat outside. He sat down on a
sofa chair and was joined by her on the one adjacent to his. He glanced from
here to there-observing the features of the room, while she stared at her hands
before finally breaking the ice, “How is Ira mashi?”
Mohan
looked up at her for a second and then lowered his gaze. “She is, um…no more”,
he took in a sharp breath and continued, “Cervical cancer. It was discovered
late. We tried chemo, but…” he shook his head and pursed his lips. Rohini was
visibly shocked, “B…but she was so young…I can’t...I mean w…when?” she managed
to ask.
“Two
years ago in August.”
There
was a painful silence in the room. Mohan stared at the ground while Rohini
stared at him in disbelief. Before it became too much, he spoke up. “Can I have
some water, please?”
She
was glad of the interruption and recollected herself. “Tch, I’m so sorry. How
rude of me! Wait a minute, I’ll get you something.”
“No,
please. I just had lunch. I’m thirsty, that’s all.”
She
ignored him and went into the kitchen behind the drawing room. Five minutes
later, she returned with a glass of aampanna
and a bowl of chilled watermelon cubes. Mohan had his elbow propped on his leg,
and was massaging between his eyebrows. “Do you have a headache?” Rohini asked
with sincere concern.
He
lifted his head, “No, I’m just tired. Actually I was all sweaty when I came in,
and the A.C. may have got to me. I’m not really used to it.”
“Oh,
should I turn it off? Or would it be okay with you if I raised the
temperature?”
“Sounds
good. But, why did you go to such trouble?” he exclaimed looking at the
refreshments she’d got for him, “I’m really on a full stomach.” She turned the
A.C. down and said, “Oh it’s just some fruit. It’s the first time you came to
our home. You didn’t think that I’d let you leave without having something. And
anyway, it’s not like I had to cook.”
He
did not argue. She was behaving more as if he was a visitor rather than a
salesman. It should have made him feel good, but he didn’t understand why it
annoyed him so much. He could almost have laughed satirically at the situation
if she wasn’t sitting there in front of him. Instead, he obediently began to
drink the sherbet placed before him.
“So,
are all salesmen bestowed with such hospitality in this household?” he said,
with a hint of sarcasm.
“Not
really”, she said absent-mindedly. He resumed eating, and she observed him
intently.
She
tried to make small talk, “So you live here now; in Kolkata?”
He
popped a piece of watermelon in his mouth and said, “Yeah, near Tollygunge. I
figured that there was nothing left for me back in Chandannagar.” He did not
notice her flinch at this statement. “I guess it was time for a fresh start,
you know. I like it here. Yeaaah, anyway, enough about me; what are you doing
in Kolkata? Last time I heard, you were living in Siliguri.”
“Vikram
got transferred to Kolkata in November. We’ve been here since.”
Mohan
nodded. He didn’t ask her any more questions. The mere mention of her husband’s
name had made him uneasy. Moreover, he didn’t want to seem too prying.
Rohini
sensed his discomfort and tried to make him feel at ease with a general
comment, “You’ve changed quite a lot since the last time I saw you…you’ve grown
stubble now. It suits you.”
He
flashed a genuine smile and teased her, “Yeah, well; you’ve gained weight.”
pointing to what he thought was a trace of a pot-belly.
“Oh
that. Um, actually I’m pregnant.” She said matter-of-factly.
He
would have almost spit out his food from shock, but saved himself from
humiliation in the nick of time. “Ah, well…um Congratulations! I guess…” he
managed with a cough followed by a fake smile.
“Thank
you. It’s been about five months…” she said, almost to herself rather than him.
He
nodded in response and again a noisy silence ensued between them.
“Um,
I’m getting late. You should take a look at the brochure now”, he said finally,
keeping the glass on the table.
“Yeah,
sure”, she extended her left hand to him. Mohan was about to give her the
pamphlet, when he noticed a small dark bruise on her wrist. It was concealed
until then under her aanchal but now
the thin gold bangles had been displaced revealing the wound. When she caught
him staring at it, she nervously drew her hand back and smiled, “Oh its
nothing.” “It’s just a small burn from the coffee maker. I was silly enough to
try to hold it while it was still hot”, she added almost as an afterthought.
Clarifying herself thus to Mohan, who hadn’t asked for an explanation, she took
the brochure from his hands and started flipping through its pages.
He
praised all the features of the kitchen chimney in question with a fervour that
only salesmen possessed. He was in the middle of explaining to her the price and
the discount being offered, when the door of the next room opened and a little
girl came running towards Rohini. She was a toddler, three to four years old,
with big eyes on a plump but cute face. He couldn’t help but smile. On seeing
Mohan she stopped in her steps, and then warily proceeded forward to her
mother. “Ma, why did you leave me
alone in the bedroom?” she said and climbed onto her lap.
“She’s
afraid of sleeping alone”, Rohini explained to him. Then she caressed her
daughter’s hair and said, “See who’s here. Say ‘hi’ to uncle, Moni.”
“Hi”,
the little girl obeyed, apprehensive of the stranger.
“Hello,
Moni! What a pretty pet name you have!” Mohan said shaking her hand. “What is
your bhalonaam?”
“My
name is Mohini Banerjee. What is your name?” she replied promptly with tutored
confidence, apparently having lost all her former wariness.
He
laughed a little at this and answered with a similar accent, “My name is Mohan
Sengupta, Ma’am.”
She
curved her brow in thought and remarked, “Our names are similar; Mohini and
Mohan.”
“Yes,
surprisingly, they are”, he realised. He looked up to Rohini and saw that her
countenance had turned serious. “I should get going.”
She
nodded, “I’m sorry. I can’t confirm and sign up for the offer without
consulting with my husband. I’m keeping the brochure, if that’s not a problem.
Give me your card and I’ll get back to you.”
“A
salesman with a card?” Mohan said gravely. “Oh…” she was clearly embarrassed.
“I’ll write my number down for you”, he offered with a smile, and scribbled his
phone number on the pamphlet.
“Bye-bye,
Moni.”
“Bye-bye”,
the little girl repeated.
“It
was nice meeting you”, he confessed to Rohini.
“Same
here. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Mohan left and descended the stairwell outside the apartment. She waited for
him to disappear as he turned on the landing, before closing the large mahogany
door.
~3~
10 years ago…
“Ira
mashi O Ira mashi, open the door! Ma
has sent some fish roe fritters for you”, 17 year old Rohini shouted outside
her neighbours’ house.
“Where,
let me see?” Mohan opened the door on her face and without a warning, snatched
up one of the fritters from the bowl in her hand.
“What?
UGH!”
“Mmm,
they’re good” he raised his eyebrows at her. He then grabbed the bowl and went
back in; leaving her at the porch without even as much as an invitation to come
inside.
“MOHAN!”
she stomped her foot and then ran after him.
“What’s
the matter with you two again?” Mohan’s mother said in disapproval, although
she was used to the cock-and-bull story that the teenagers lived.
“See
for yourself what your darling son is up to! I brought the fritters for you and
he vanished with the entire lot instead.”
“Uff, this boy doesn’t give me a moment’s
rest. Ei Mo…”
“There
you go Ma. I was just doing a quality
test. These fritters are fit for consumption”, he piped in, handing his mother
the bowl, which showed a much reduced number of fritters. Rohini gave him a
death stare. “What?” he looked at her with irreverence. Then he gave a little
push to her head before heading off upstairs to his room. “Follow me.”
“Why?”
she asked, but got no reply. She looked first at Ira mashi, then at the stairs; and climbed them up to his room.
“Why
did you ask me to follow you?”
Mohan
was searching for something under his bed. He looked up and said, “I’ve got
something to show you. Close the door.”
“What
is it? Why do I have the close the door? What are you doing under the bed?”
“Why
the hell do you have so many questions? Just shut up for a minute and close the
door.”
“First
tell me what it is.”
Mohan
looked up again, this time his teeth clenched. Rohini gave up.
“Okay
Okay! I’ll close it. But I don’t like the direction this is going in.”
“Here
it is.” He stood up with a book in his hand.
“A
book? You kept a book under your bed? I thought it was something dangerous.”
“It
is. Come and see”, he sat on the bed and patted the place next to him.
Rohini
sat down next to him to observe this supposedly ‘dangerous’ book.
“The
Kama…THE KAMASUTRA!”
“Shh”,
he placed a finger on her lips “Don’t shout, you silly pig!”
“The
Kamasutra? Where’d you get this thing?” she whispered.
“From
someone”, Mohan said with feigned authority.
She
shoved him in the guts with her elbow, “Who? Tell me or I’ll tell Ira mashi that you read obscene literature.”
“What in god’s name is your problem, Rohini?”
“Who?”
“A friend of a friend of a friend.” She was
clearly not satisfied with this answer.
“Okay! I got it from Kingshuk’s neighbour’s
cousin. We met him at the Strand a week ago. He lent it to me; for two days
only. I’ve got to return it tomorrow. So, I wanted to show it to you. And now I
think that was a pretty bad decision.”
“Whatever. Have you read it yet?”
He nodded, “Last night.”
“And?”
“Well, read it yourself.”
He opened the book for her. She gasped at almost
every single heading or illustration. The turning of the pages was punctuated
by a “What in hell…”, “Ew!” or “Oh my god!” from her.
“Hey! Stop doing that.”
“What? I can’t help but be surprised. I am not
that…you know…as you are.”
“Just be normal. You’ve got like a million
expressions going through your face within a second right now.”
“I can’t be normal when I am looking at THIS
sitting next to a guy.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be stupid,
Mohan. You know what.”
“No I don’t. You’re being silly.”
“Oh! Just move away for a while and let me read
this by myself.” She pushed him away.
He pushed her back. “Ugh!” she cried and pushed
him harder. But he did not budge.
And their game began. Rohini struggling to push
him off of her, and Mohan sitting there stuck to her side like a thorn refusing
to move. Their game continued for a couple of minutes before his mother banged
on the door, “What are you two up to?”
Mohan regained his wits and opened the door, “Oh
nothing she was just helping me with one of the passages in the English book.”
Rohini smiled foolishly and waved the book at
her, taking care to keep the title out of vision.
Ira mashi looked
suspiciously at them for a moment and said, “Okay. Don’t fight. And keep the
door open.” Then she left.
“Phew!” Mohan said, wiping off imaginary beads
of sweat from his forehead.
“What must she have thought we were doing?”
Rohini was tensed.
“You worry too much, Rohini. Now give the book
back.” She did not protest and he hid it under the bed.
She was looking out the window and thinking of
something. “What’s bothering you?” he asked.
“Hm? Nothing”, she shook her head. Mohan lounged
upon the bed, his head resting on his palm, and his eyes fixed on her. Rohini
fiddled with the bed-sheet. “Arre tell
me na! What are you thinking?” he
persisted.
“I’m getting late. Bye”, she got up and started
towards the door. He pulled her back by her arm, “What happened?”
“I’ve got to go, Mohan. Ma will be worrying.” She went out and down the stairs.
“No she won’t”, he called back but she was
already gone. Making an angry face, he lay down on the bed. He looked out the
window from where he could see Rohini’s house. He held the shutter and banged
it close. After a few seconds, he opened it. He closed it again. And then he
kept repeating this, until his mother finally dragged him down for his bath.
