That Indian Woman | √

Chapter 17

Anvesha:

I could hear voices. They were hushed, not purposely, but standing behind a closed door would only let me hear voices upto a certain extent.

Frustration and impatience were building inside me with every second that passed. I missed a whole college day to stand behind a closed door, sneaking on my father's conversation with his friend?

Absolutely not.

If I had to make a good use of this missed day, I would at least hear my father's conversation fully by standing behind a wall near the courtyard.

This sounded so ridiculous and hilarious at the same time, but I was stubborn. I did not pay heed to anything and did what my heart wished for me to do.

I walked towards the heavy door as silently as I can and opened it slowly, as to not produce any sound. It creaked a little, freezing me in my spot but when I heard no pause in the hushed coversation, which had considerably grown louder, I continued doing my sneaking.

Once my door was opened enough for me to go out, I slipped off my slippers and walked silently outside. There was a passage which lead to the courtyard.

"--shouldn't be--" the voices were more audible now.

I pressed myself to the wall, so that I could hear the full conversation but stay hidden at the same time.
My father and whoever this friend was, were talking in Bengali, which was our local language.

"Is he joining your business or is he planning to study more?" my father asked the anonymous person. When I sensed the genuine curiosity and interest in my father's voice, I felt like he had stabbed me in the back. As if he had betrayed me. Tears sprung in my eyes, but I was quick to swallow them in.

This crying, whimpering woman is not me. I'm strong and I will deal with whatever there is ahead of me.

I waited for the person to answer. 

"My son is in a dilemma. I want him to join our business, which is on its peak right now. But he is intent on learning more. I think I would be able to send him abroad by the end of the year, if he still doesn't want to join me." A deep, yet aged voice said. I couldn't help but feel a nagging sensation in mind that I had heard this voice somewhere.

Not able to keep the curiosity inside, I found myself bending forward to have a look at this person. When the courtyard came into view, I saw that my father had his back towards me.

The person--OH MY GOD! I felt like the the ground had slipped beneath me. Everything froze for a split second as I tried to make myself believe that what I was seeing was true.

The person sitting on the charpai opposite my father was none other than Arunaabh Dev Roy, a well known businessman of jute. A traitor in my eyes...as his trade was done with the British.

My heart slammed mercilessly against my chest. I felt like all air had been forced out of me, because his son was Rajeev Dev Roy, the man who was willing to join me in my agitation against the British, the same man who refused to look back at me when the people backed away like cowards.

The more the reality sunk in, the more hard it grew for me to believe it. My hands flew to mouth in order to stop a gasp which was pushing for me to let out.

Without another look behind me, I rushed silently to my room. On reaching it, I swiftly shut the door and sunk on the bed.

My head was hurting with all the knowledge. I felt like all the doors were being closed in on me.

Wait. My father hadn't said yes or no.
But then again, it would be highly disrespectful for my father to refuse to that man.
No, when was the last time my father worked upon other's wishes? Oh, my supposed marriage will take place because of others wishes.