On an Evening in Roma

Everywhere I look there's a dead end waiting...

Note- My dear readers sab jute chappal patthar leke taiyar ho jao...kyuke yeh chapter parne ke baad sab ko KSJ ko pitne ka maan karega...

The heavy black and gold iron gate of the Roy Choudhary haveli opened with a screeching noise, making the two drowsy dwarpals (gatemen) jump on their feet.

It was almost dawn but the Sun was hours away from gracing the uneven plains of Tulsipur.

In the dim flame of the lantern they gaped at the wracked form of their Barrister Babu...(who is also known as the best dressed man in next ten villages...he was the Vilayati Babu who always stays prim and proper) ...today he looked like he has been standing outside during a kalboishakhi storm.

With heavy steps Anirudh walked inside the gate. The gravel surface of the long driveway dug into his bare feet. His chappal were... somewhere...he can't remember when exactly he has lost them ...they were probably back at the temple.

Birds has started chirping in the trees that lined the driveway. A cold breeze blew through the garden causing his weary form to shiver.

Upon entering the Haveli he went straight to his study leaving behind his muddy foot print on the pristine Italian marbel floor.

Once inside the study he didn't go for his desk or the sofa instead he started climbing the spiral staircase...which leads to a room that was lit every night by fireflies...

(Every evening Bihari would catch the fireflies and put them in a jar and bring it in this room....then at dawn he will let them go before cleaning the room.)

...a room which can be accessed only through his study, the other door which opens to the first floors long baranda has been locked over six years now.

...a room whose walls were decorated with rows and rows of picture frames of different shape and size. Pictures...which carries his most cherished memories and memories...all of which revolved around her...his Bondita.

In the semi dark room Anirudh found the switch board without any effort and switched on the light. The wire filament of the incandescent bulb glowed to chase away the remaining darkness of the room...

Now he can clearly see the room where he has caged all of his beautiful memories...so they don't offend his family members or the villagers.

There were very few furnitures in the room...A dresser filled with Bondita's sarees...a shelf filled with her books and toys... Bondita's reading table...and in the middle of the room a easy-chair (the only thing in the room that was not Bondita's).

After opening the south facing window he walked to the chair and dropped his tired body on it. If he wasn't so exhausted he would have wrote a letter to her right about now and put it away with the other unsent letters, inside the Ivy vine carved wooden box that was now inside the dresser.

He had brought all of Bondita's belongs in this room... everything that he can find...the only thing he couldn't find was her sakha pola and her bichua. He had searched every corner of her room but they were nowhere to be found.

With a little push of his feet the chair start rocking back and forth... resting his hands on the armrest he leaned on the backrest.

When it comes to Bondita he has always trusted his instinct...always...and right now he was holding on to that instinct that was screaming at him that his Bondita was ok...that she was alive...

But before he can chase the small flame of hope it was dwindling and dying.

Despite having thousand thoughts crowding his mind...as time passes his head slowly lolled against his shoulder and his tired eyes closed on their own.
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