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| Sutanuka Ghosh Roy |
The grey sky started pouring as the car
reached the Eastern Metropolitan Bypass. Bubu was at the wheels trying to wade
through a stream of cars. Today is her birthday! Ma Mrinmoyee had categorically
asked her to return home a bit earlier. Birthdays are always special for her
because on that day Ma makes all the delicacies which she likes to savor. The
thick payesh a rice-based pudding is made
with Govindobhog rice which has a short grain. Ma would drain the rice and mix
it with ghee and cook on low heat until the rice is nicely cooked and the milk
has reduced to almost half. She would
add sugar and a bay leaf and garnish it with cashews and raisins made her mouth
watery. Nobody on earth can cook payesh
like Mrinmoyee. It tastes like manna! In childhood when Ma used to feed her payesh with her own hands she would
always end up by biting her fingers! Mrinmoyee used to giggle “Bubu you are
eating my fingers too!” “Ma they are sweeter than payesh I cannot help it!” Preparations would start almost a month
ago her bespectacled Ma with a pen and a notebook at the sofa and Baba sitting
next to her enthusiastically. There were serious discourses over cups of
tea/coffee, heated exchanges as to who should be invited, or who should be
dropped from the list.
On the auspicious day Ma would deck up
their entire house, new curtains replacing the old, sofa covers were changed,
new bedcovers added to the glamour. Shanta Pishi, their domestic help would
wear a new sari too. Soumya her Baba with his signature smile and Ma like a
possessed woman used to attend all the guests. Dadu her maternal grandpa and
Didu maternal grandma used to come and stay for a week during this week. Bubu
used to float in the evening like an angel. She used to proudly display her
expensive toys to all her friends and relished their wide-eyed glances too!
Each year was special until the tenth Birthday. On that day Baba introduced his
newly appointed personal assistant Sunita Aunty to them. After the party was
over Ma suddenly became silent as if she has lost the ability to speak. The next
morning she went to college without having breakfast. Bubu understood nothing.
After few months Baba left with Sunita Aunty. In the evening Bubu would stand
in the verandah and wait for Baba. Life became topsy turvy without her baba. A
few months before her eleventh birthday Didu passed away. Dadu started staying with them. Ma was busy
with her teaching and writing. Nights became interesting as each night Dadu
would tell her a story. She grew up with the stories.
Dadu used to assist her in her studies too!
Ma used to join them too! On Sundays three of them would go to the nearby park,
sometimes they used to watch a movie or dine out. Life was fun no doubt but
after the sundown, Bubu would think of her Baba, sometimes she would strike up
a secret imaginary discourse with him. She would imitate Baba’s voice and
transform herself into baba and Bubu simultaneously. Ma understood but feigned
innocence. She would come and kiss her on her forehead. From an early age, Bubu
understood her pulse. She would smilingly carry her void around her neck. At
night she would write she was scared of sleep. The other half of the bed
reminded her of Soumya, her husband. Ever since he went away her nights were
metamorphosed into days. Almost all through the night she would scribble a
verse or a story. Her research papers were widely appreciated. Bubu would
tiptoe to her room and always found her in her study desk writing continuously.
The light from the reading lamp would caress her soft tresses. Bubu would watch
her with sleepy eyes and then slowly retired to the bed. Dadu would put his arm
around her neck.
A
red Baleno was constantly honking. Bubu got irritated. Kolkata is becoming a
nightmare for amateur drivers. Each day was a challenge. She was now driving
past the Ruby hospital. The rains were lashing the windscreen of her car. The
wind was howling. Each raindrop is a kaleidoscope if we could only see more
closely. Bubu wondered as she drove how it would be to stop her car, to suspend
this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit
inside those raindrops and take that gravity propelled ride to the earth, as she
imagined it she started laughing at herself - a little at the crazy daydream
and a little at her silliness. She saw the rain beads up on the cars, upon each
pedestrian, and the outstretched pavements. Soon they will pull together,
forming the puddles, as is quite normal in Kolkata, opening up a whole new
avenue of rain-related fun. Perhaps normal people do not love a rainy day so
much, but she loved it. After all, it is her birthday today.
As she pressed the accelerator the road became
alive with more splashes than her eyes could appreciate. Seeing the drops
trickle down her window brought a sense of calmness within her. She drove
constantly and let every moment sink in as if it was going to last forever. The
percussion of the given water varied according to the surface it wets. There
are the drums that are windows of her car, the cymbals that are the concrete
floor of the black road, and the soft, soft maracas that are the music of the roadside
grass. The triangles are the puddles, a high note to pick up the mood; together
they brought such a soothing sound, a natural melody every bit as beautiful as her
mother's soulful hum. Each birthday Ma would remember the night when Bubu came
to her lap. She would tell, “Bubu you know on that day millions of droplets fell
from a limitless sky, the wind howled in a low pitch and the tall trees swayed
in a freeform dance and you came to me.
Raindrops, perfect spheres, sitting briefly before forming tiny rivers
of their own swept the streets of Kolkata. The aroma of rain, sharp and fresh,
entered my nostrils as I waited for your birth. I slept in the anesthetic bed
in the O.T., every moment bringing a sense of joy”. Bubu knows Ma loves rain. She loves everything about the rain. The
whispering whirr as sheets of precipitation fell to the water-forsaken ground,
the often unanticipated flashes of lightning or the rolls of ominous thunder.
She loved it all. Those facts were what truly created, in Mrinmoyee’s opinion,
a perfect rainy atmosphere when she became a mother.
The
rain bore down mercilessly upon the heart of the city, pounding on the rooftops
and turning the cobbled streets of the Eastern Metropolitan Bypass into a
warren of slick stones and muddy waters. Located only a stone’s throw from the
high walls of the Avishikta, the Big
Bazar Highland is easy to find. The warm light from its compounds and the
trailing smoke from its food stores serve as beacons of refuge and comfort to
those caught out in the rain. She felt like having a cup of coffee but the rain
was mad. A sheet of rain passed over the roof of her car and the sound
intensified. The phut-phut-phut noise on the car was like that of ripened nuts
make when they hit the ground. It wasn’t the soft, sodden, swollen drops of
spring she was hearing; it was like ball-bearings were hitting the roof of the
car with force. Bubu could also hear an occasional Ker-plunking sound. It was
caused by the rainwater gathered on the car falling to the ground in a great
swash of release.
Her
home in Garia was still far. She wanted to reach home as soon as possible. The
road was midnight under the clouds most of the street lights were sleeping in
the rain. She was cautiously driving. A myriad thought crossed her mind. Bubu
found the darkness strange. Living in the heart of a city, she had grown used
to having the warming, orange glow of streetlamps outside her window, their
light filtering in through the rolled-up glasses. This was a blackness that she
couldn't recall seeing before - one that was almost absolute. When she tilted her
head skyward she could see the black velvety sky stop. A truck was coming
steadily behind, Bubu moved sideways to give space to it, the truck passed in a
second. She was now up in the flyover. Suddenly she spotted a figure trying to
stop the car. She was quite astounded. Maybe someone stuck in the rain wants a car-lift.
She slowed her car. Now she could see a woman with a tossed umbrella waving the
faint wind brushing against the water’s surface, the ripples ruffled the
stillness of the surface Bubu popped her head out “Mrinmoyee! Maaaa! What is
this? Why on earth are you here? Come get inside!”. As Bubu opened the door she
caught the aroma of the sweet-smelling rain-washed darkness, smudgy
illumination of a lamppost, sky sprinkled with grey clouds.
“Bubu
please don’t try to be my mother got it?”, “I came to give you a surprise after
all it’s the Birthday of m-y d-a-u-g-h-t-e-r”. Bubu smiled, “I understand Ma
but see the rain outside”. The lightning passed through the glass pane into the
car as Mrinmoyee sat beside Bubu. The sudden thunder and lightning made her
shiver as she drove. She peeped out to
see the darkness stretched for miles apart. The trees were swaying from left to
right enjoying the showers of the night. Darkness had swamped the night along
with the rain giving the night an uncanny feel. Mrinmoyee is like this only she
loves to give surprises to everyone. Even in her college, she loves to give her
colleagues surprises. Sometimes she would cook a dish of her own choice or bake
a cake or buy a bouquet for them. She never forgets to greet them on their
birthdays. She was loved by one for her loving nature. Bubu knows that there’s
no point in arguing with her mother. On many occasions, her Ma would wait for
her at the school gate with a broad grin and whisper s-u-r-p-r-i-s-e in her
ears. She loved it. Together they would go to the New Market and enjoy a
sumptuous lunch! She would buy Bubu a dress or trinkets and would always end up
buying silver ornaments for herself. Mrinmoyee loves to wear silver ornaments.
Ma
was wearing a blue salwar kameez, her long hair knotted with a clutch. Bubu
looked at her how beautiful she looks. “How could Baba leave her and go for
that ugly duckling? Bubu doesn’t think of such things, the past is past, better
to live in the present. See what I have got for y-o-u”. How could Ma read her
thoughts? Ma is a real magician. “What is that you have brought for me now in
the rain?”. Bubu sounded a little grumpy. “Why have you brought first of all in
this rain? Am I running away with someone? Everyone is indoors in this weather
and you are out to give me a surprise?
What if you catch a cold and fever? Ma you are simply incorrigible.” “Ma
simply bushed her off. She took out a tiffin box from her tote bag.” Bubu sees
here’s your payesh your favourite payesh. Just taste it and give me your honest
feedback”. Bubu felt like crying, Ma took all the pain to come in this
torrential rain only to give her a surprise. She could feel a lump in her
throat. Mothers are gifted with a love that is different from any other love on
the face of the earth. “Bubu, Bubu open your mouth and taste the payesh. And
please don’t bite my fingers”. “You have brought payesh for me? Couldn’t you
wait for me to return? Uff Ma you are simply…” “S-u--r-p-r-i-s-e” Ma giggled
like a nine-year-old. The payesh was so delicious, fantastic flavour and aroma
that is quite hard to resist. Bubu was too happy to indulge in this scrumptious
quintessential recipe and enjoyed the Birthday fever.
The
rain has been falling steadily outside and was only getting worse. Bubu was now
close to Hindusthan More, it has become dark only a lone street lamp cast a
dim, yellow light on the sad features of the houses. It looks as if no one has
lived here for many years. “Ma the payesh is the yummiest”. Mrinmoyee’s eyes
sparkled like diamonds. “Is it? Every year when I cook payesh for you I feel
nervous. I just pray to God that it suits your taste”. Mrinmoyee candidly
confessed. A wave of happiness flooded Bubu’s mind. She took a long breath and
told “Ma this surprise is awesome! I loved it! I’m enjoying each moment. The
torrential rain and eating payesh from your hands is surreal”. Both of them wanted
to freeze the time. They were enjoying life to the lees. “Ma would the guests
come? I don’t think so, who will come except our next-door neighbours”, Bubu
was a little sad. Ma consoled her “in a way that is good if no one comes both
of us will eat like Bakasura and gobble the dishes…so nothing to worry”. Bubu
laughed her heart out. Their house in Garia was now close by. “Ma see we have
almost reached, please wear that blue sari for me today”. “Which blue sari
Bubu?” “Ma you know what I mean that blue tussar silk that I brought from
Kamala, Ho Chi Min Sarani”. “Merci beaucoup! my darling”. The roof of the car
danced with spray and they could hear the murmuring of the rain through the
window. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees. Bubu was almost near to the
gate of the apartment. “Bubu I will just come in a minute I forgot to buy gulab
jamuns for you”. “Ma are you crazy? I don’t want to eat gulab jamuns, I just
finished the payesh. Would you please go upstairs with me?” “Had it been any
other day I would have listened to you but today is your birthday, you love
gulab jamuns, your birthdays without them are incomplete”. The sky was
tar-black and the large clouds were moving towards them.
Mrinmoyee
almost ran in the rain. Bubu went inside the apartment. Raja mama was standing
along with Babul mama and others. So they all have come to give her a surprise.
Raja mama put his hand around her neck, “come Bubu we are waiting for you, come
my daughter”. “Raja Mama thanks for the surprise”. Bubu was all smiling. Babul
mama quipped “yes a surprise indeed”. The door of the flat was ajar, this was a
custom which Mrinmoyee maintains on her birthdays, like each year the fragrance
of flowers entered her nostrils. But this year she saw rajanigandha all over
and not jasmine which she loves. Their flat was full of guests the dining table
was full of all sorts of food. Bubu suddenly felt very hungry. She was about to
eat a sweet when Ranu kakima came and told “Bubu not now”, Bubu was surprised.
“ Bubu please come to your mother’s bedroom”. “Coming, Kakima in a minute”. She
quickly went outside to see whether Mrinmoyee has come back with her favourite
gulab jamuns. “Bubu please come,” Bubu was too happy she felt like a queen
surrounded by all loving people. She entered the bedroom. Mrinmoyee in the blue
tussar was resplendent. She was encircled by the guests. Bubu was taken aback. Is
Ma a magician? when did she come and change into the sari? It was pouring
outside suddenly the power went out. A little unsettled Bubu tapped her mobile
torch to get rid of the oppressing darkness.
wonderful word craft. Daughter and mother relationship is everlasting. Chain of events and finally the end is heart-wrenching. i wish the author more success.
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