Dhampir of Kalika

epilogue

Pitter patter of rain, drizzling over rooftops and sliding down window panes. Hot masala chai, bread pakoras and the evening radio. Street lamps flickering. Calcutta went under a blanket and sipped warm coffee.

Maya's parents had gone out for a wedding. She dropped the invitation with the excuse of work. In reality, she was wary of meeting all the nosy relatives who were over-the-top curious about her love and professional life. Being a detective, and an unmarried woman of twenty-seven, she had to maintain a distance from unnecessary drama. She was also busy packing her luggage; she was to visit Devipuram in two days for the marriage of Sundar and Sahiba.

"Sahiba is around eight years younger to me, and already going to be married. And here, look at me." She chuckled. "I might even become a spinster."

Marriage was something that Maya grew worried about every passing day. Her profession had put her life at risk and had the potential to also endanger her future husband too. Her enemies would want to harm her family. The local police were still helpful and had good relations with her, but it wasn't enough to Maya. As a daughter, she was always tense, even though she rarely showed it. And the same points made her disregard the thought of marriage.

Not that she never dreamt of dressing in red and gold. It was the dream of every Bengali girl. They grew up playing with dolls and secretly mimicking their married mothers. Being a wife was a cosy desire.

Yet, Maya didn't know if she would be able to fall in love. She grew increasingly incapable of being vulnerable around people. Always putting up a guard, she pushed away prospective men with a disgruntled frown. Her father teased her about her secret lover. She denied having any.

But even she knew how wrong she was.

She wished she was wrong. She wished that he remembered her. It was a very devilish and selfish prayer, so merciless and insensitive, but Maya hoped that Raktim kept her in his memories. He was talking about her moving on, when in reality, she never did. So many months had passed and he never made a call. The paper she had given him perhaps rotted in a corner.

"Maybe he has decided to settle down in Khatra. He has a better life now, and he deserves it. He must be happy."

Maya sat on the sofa in the living room, distracting herself with a fashion magazine. The glitz and glamour glittering on the pages mesmerised the tired mind of the detective.

While she was flipping through the pages casually, the doorbell rang. "They came back so early?" Maya checked the clock– it was six in the evening. Even the rain had stopped. Maybe her parents returned sooner due to those clingy relatives. "They should at least have enjoyed the food. Especially the red meat."

Maya opened the door. "So–"

It wasn't her parents. For a moment, Maya just looked around, even though a man of flesh and bones stood in front of her. Actually, it was too unexpected and unreal for her to behold the man who waited at the door. "Ra-raktim?"

He had changed. He had ditched the long hair, the thick beard and humble style. In place of it was a trimmed and slicked back hair, clean shaven cheeks and a buttoned up maroon blazer paired with black trousers.

"I-I am back... Maya."

Whether it was his new look that dazzled her or the surprise visit, Maya was unable to handle the twist of life and lost her balance. Raktim kept down his umbrella and caught her before she fell down. "Are you fainting? Don't!"

"I-I am..."

"Let me help you."

Raktim took her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa. "Sit here." He closed the door and came back. "I hope I haven't been some unwelcome trouble."