Calcutta 1969, a period of revolution and poetry.
Charulata Dutta dreams to be a scholar, even if it implies going against her conservative family. Despite being the first graduate in the history of Dutta women, she soon finds herself trapped in a w...
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'What on earth are you even doing?' Charu growled. Asha has scared the soul out of her.
She did not answer, just looked at her with a queer expression that spoke volumes. Tear tracks glistened her cheeks, and her large doe eyes were wet.
'What happened didibhai?' she asked again, tenderness edging her voice. God forbid, she was bad at consoling people.
A huge sigh left Asha. She undid the veil from her head, and placed in her sister's hands. Charu still looked utterly puzzled at her actions, causing her to smile mildly. She was such a kid.
'You know what Charu, you will look absolutely gorgeous on your wedding day.'
Charu furrowed her eyebrows. What on earth was going on?
Asha smiled again at her confusion, and tip toed out of the room, her long white aanchal fluttering in the wind. Just as she reached the threshold, she stopped, and turned towards Charu.
'Do you think I mourn my husband?'
'Don't you?' Charu suddenly found herself saying.
'No. I mourn my shattered dreams.' She said, and before Charu could even say a word, she was gone.
Charu stood rooted at her spot, watching the threshold vacantly. What on earth was that supposed to mean?
***
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Parul was not someone who particularly harbored the wish of marriage. True that she couldn't live in her paternal house forever, nor would she be accepted as a respectable woman if she did not marry respectably, but marriage at 17 seemed too early for her, especially when the groom was well past 30. She couldn't see his face through her downcast eyes, but Tarun, her elder brother had told her he was fairly good-looking. They had come to 'see' the bride this evening, and rumour went that she was selected. 'Pencil booked' Tarun had said, of course, he owned a catering service. Nobody had asked her opinion about the marriage, as though she wasn't important. Well, she wasn't – not to her father – and she had no hope that she would be heeded in her husband's house either.
