The Anklet's Lost Rhythm #Wattys2017

CHAPTER 5

RUPSHA

"Has Mitali given you the list of names as yet?" Sparshika enquired just as I entered the staff room on Monday morning greeted by many of my students on way.

Teaching in a college was very different and it was one of the things I had always wanted to do. I had heard a lot about Presidency College from Sparshika, she being my childhood friend. I must confess that it was her praises about this age old college that provoked me to join as a professor of English here. I was more than happy to be able to spend my work life with Sparshika as she is someone very dear to me, just like my own sister. Besides her another identity is that she is the wife of Ishan-my husband's best friend, ever since he was 4 years old. I've known Sparshika long enough as we were in the same school. Yes, a time span of a few years had separated us as she moved over to Presidency to complete her masters in History. But there we were back again indulging as usual in pulling each other's leg, having heartfelt conversations and late night confessions over the phone.

"Hmm...she said she'd hand it over to me by today afternoon," I replied as I flipped through the morning's newspaper.

"Why didn't you tell me you met Sid at South City?" she looked at me questioningly.

"I..I..didn't feel it was much important." I tried to sound as convincing as I could. "Who informed you? Ishan?"

But before she could answer she was swept into another conversation initiated by another of my colleagues. I sat on my chair, my thoughts going back to my husband. Again I found myself trying to steer myself away from the tornado which surrounded his thoughts.

As I turned the next page of the newspaper I found an article written by my uncle-my mother's own brother and I began reading it. My uncle is an eminent economist-Mrinal Banerjee. He's the author of three books already and the fourth one is on its way to the publishing house. I've never met a man so learned as my uncle and I'm being quite unbiased when I'm saying this. He knows a good deal about all kinds of subjects- philosophy, literature, sociology, psychology, etc so much that I find it difficult to believe that he only studied economics.

My uncle has always been like a second father to me. He has inspired me, motivated me and has every time pushed me towards attaining my goal. Whatever I am today is solely due to his efforts and love. He has never thought of me any differently than his own daughter-Madhubani and Madhu has always regarded me as her elder sister, friend and guide. As a child I remember whenever I used to be upset one call from uncle would always cheer me up and even today after all these years I look forward to spending a lot of time and collecting memories.

I distinctly remember that when I was 5 years old I had suddenly come across the term 'Valentine's Day' and obviously a year later when I learnt its implication I was quite upset as I had received no cards and flowers from a prince charming. I didn't quite understand then what love was and how self-destructive it could be. But my uncle sensing a pain in my tender heart sent a rose and a chocolate at my house anonymously. I don't remember but my father tells me that I had ran around the full house jumping like a bunny at the fact that I had managed to receive one beautiful rose.

My maami-wife of my uncle is another graceful lady. Tall, slim, fair, waist length hair and rimless spectacles-that's her definition in one line. She's extremely sweet and when she talks it seems that every word of hers is wrapped up in a coat of honey and sugar but do something which would anger her, you'd surely see the side of her which you would immediately wish you hadn't. I've seen that terrible side of her many a times when as a clumsy child I ran around her house bumping into things and breaking delicate objects.

I still remember that there was a crystal dolphin my uncle had once bought from Rome and it broke after it had slipped out of my hand. My aunt complained to my mum-something which she never did and I got a terrible scolding when I went back home. She has always supported me otherwise whenever my parents used to scold me for being naughty and she used to try explaining to my parents that childhood was the only time one could spend being careless and naughty and so the rights shouldn't be curtailed. But the irony of it all is that when Madhu decided to be naughty she'd never miss a chance to fly at her with her terrifying wrath. I've kept a photograph of my aunt and uncle in my purse where my aunt is carrying me in her arms on her wedding day with uncle standing beside her and smiling the brightest smile I've ever seen.