Dhampir of Kalika

১.‌ a new beginning

Tough times don't last. Tough people do.

****

The day was going to be a milestone in Maya's life, however she was yet unaware of what was to come. The pages of the calender were flipped by the breeze, a mere mechanical passing of time that copied the impatience of fate.

It was a balmy afternoon in the queen of cities, Calcutta.

A mother's ginger tea was the solution to life's all stressful problems, apart from it being a successful guard against a sore throat– that was what Maya thought while closing her eyes and sipping the tea in bliss.

Maya's fingers twirled the fountain pen, splattering blobs of ink on the empty paper. The previous pages of the diary were already filled with plenty of verses– some free as the breeze and some rhyming like a melody. There were stacks of files on the table too– records of all the smaller cases that Maya had handled like a pro in the past months. Her time as a detective only increased after last year's Durga Puja.

With flourishing fame, Maya had two choices– to work as an independent detective or join an agency, and she chose the former. She had tried to keep this job of hers a secret and stay away from limelight but Sundar Babu, that businessman from Devipuram, sang her praises to all his affluent customers. Soon newspapers flooded with the tales of Maya's success even though she made sure not all details would leak out. Sundar Babu helped in that aspect too– he himself was very protective about the former case of his late brother Hrishav.

Her boss encouraged her to now start writing poetries beside articles. He was also there to promote her skills as a paranormal detective. Maya was grateful to all the people, who despite having no immediate responsibility of her, still attached themselves to her life.

Maya stretched in her chair and dropped back her head. The recent months saw a rise in the scale of cases she received– like Miss Sen's suspicion about her fiance's gambling lifestyle, the missing gold chain of the widowed Lady Graham– until it came to a standstill. For the last couple of weeks, Maya was free to do what she wanted.

And yet, she wasn't happy. Her mind wanted to sniff mystery in every corner, and without the adventure life seemed so bland.

Instead of succumbing to boredom, Maya went to the living room below and flopped down on the sofa. There were some salted nuts kept in a tray on the table. She took a handful of it and munched. Casually she flipped through the pages of the book that was kept near the tray. It was a short stories collection, all penned by the great Tagore. Her father used to narrate her tales from Raj Kahini and other classics. She had grown up, like every other Bengali girl, listening to fairy tales, stories of kings and queens, the epic tales of Rama and Arjuna. They had instilled in her a sense of morality and the superiority of not differentiating between black and white. So many childhood tales of monsters and great men kept hidden deeper symbolisms which were only decipherable at an older age.

Katie, her mother, was cooking their dinner– a rohu fish curry and roasted aubergines. Even though her roots traced back to England, she had found her home in the earthy spices and tadka of India. Upon seeing her daughter, she joined Maya in the sofa. "Any new case?"

Maya shrugged. "Nope. I think all the robbers and frauds have taken a break. Doesn't sound well for my profession."

Katie chuckled. "I never imagined you will be doing this out of all jobs. Running after culprits, but in the classy style of Holmes and Poirot. Guess what? We need more women like you!" She patted her daughter's back. "Take a breath and relax. You will get a new case soon."