KOLKATA DIARIES.

1.

After four years of teeth to bone striving, and managing loads and loads of works, the script wright had finally got some time to be home. Her life had been too monotonous all these days. Taking film as a career option was her own choice but day in and day out work had made her yearn the durgo pujo and tram rides and autumns of her city even more. This tiring stretch was broken only occasionally when she and Ronojoy would hang out or chat. But even that was a luxury now. Business hangs high on lives these days. However, she had finally managed a month's vacation. No scripts.  No films. No directors. Nothing. She was enroute to Kolkata, the place where her soul had lingered all these days.

Sitting at the cafeteria of the waiting lounge of the Mumbai Airport, she stated at the glass for sometime, around the people for a good while. No one came flooding in for autographs or selfies because no one remembers people whose efforts are limited to the other side of the screen. Anindita heaved a sigh. But she was happy, happy with her work, happier that she had a sea side flat in Andheri and sufficient pay , and happiest that she had someone like Ronojoy. But visiting her city after four long years seemed to break off all scales of happiness.

Workaholic people always find it difficult to sit idle and Anindita at such a young age, already had dark circles, so that defines her. Taking out the Macbook, she went on playing a game with the keys, in short, working with a script when there was a sharp voice mingled with laughter,
"Hi!"  .
Anindita looked up. Before her stood a young girl of twenties with a hearty smile. Dressed in a pink tee and denim, with a signature wristlet , blonde hair and blue eyes, Anindita was quite ascertained that she was a foreigner. She broke out formally," Yeah, hello."
~"May i get a seat here?"
~" Yea sure."
Anindita never liked meeting much new people nor could she go along well with them but this girl with hearty laughs and wide smiles was too sweet to be turned down.
~"Coffee, Ma'am?"
Anindita was struck by her genuine politeness. She could not help but put her macbook inside her bag and tried to perpetrate a discussion.
~"Let's have cappuccino, what say? It's too hot here."
~"Yeah, I'd love to, and Oh by the way, I'm Rachael. You ?,Rachael lend out her hand.
~"Anindita here",she too lend out her hand, "you're from?"
~" Basically I was born in Kolkata, but I grew up in Chennai."
~"oh, Indian! I thought you were a visitor here "
~" Not at all", the bright smile that had accompanied Rachael all this while faded, " I'm a traveller , lost enough."
By the time, the soft heart of Anindita drifting like feathers was brought heavily and she felt very sympathetic about the drastic condition of the girl.
With her genuine warmth, she took Rachael's palms into hers and pressed on her, " Tell me, what's the deal."
Rachael could finally hold no more and she simply burst out. Her crimson cheeks got drenched, even the sunshine filtering the gleeful cafeteria looked paler.
Breathing heavily, and quietening herself, she began, " I'm an Armenian. I was born in Kolkata, my mother had told me, somewhere in Park Street but when I was still a child , we went to Chennai, because the Armenian community is bigger there. I had an old grandmother, she was not an Armenian though , we asked her to come with us, but she denied. We lived in Chennai quite happily . After my twelfth grade, my parents sent me to Oxford, higher education you know. I tried to contact with them regularly but couldn't. They never answered my call.."

Anindita listened raptly. Tears  had swollen up in her eyes as well. The tale which this unknown girl was pouring out could drive any heart to tears. But there was a long pause, following which Anindita held her hands even more  tightly, and clearing her wet throat continued, " Then. . ?"

Rachael was no more crying but her eyes were red, vermillion.
~"Last  month, I graduated with my doctorate in English. I again tried to contact them, but it was fruitless and finally I had a mind to come to my homeland. You know, during those years I had tried out every possibility. With the help of a professor, I had gone to Armenia as well, but I was rendered fruitless."

There was again a long silence. Anindita was dumbstruck. She only held Rachael's hands.

~"last week, I arrived at Chennai. I had brought Mamma's favourite yellow roses and Dad's delphiniums and I had even brought there favourite colognes from Oxford but as I ran across the golden marine drive and made it to my home, I found it didn't look like home anymore. In the flood of sunset, i couldn't sense any familiarity with the feeling. Our garden was gone. There was a garage there. Our crysenthemums hanging down the window panes was gone as well. Nothing matched like before. 
And then there was a warm touch, i recognised that immediately. It was Samantha Aunt, our neighbour who loved me in my childhood even more than my own mother. From her , I knew the new Government had uprooted the minorities from Chennai, and they were gone to Mumbai long back. Samantha Aunt urged me to drop in at her place but I had a mind to stop nowhere till I find out my family."

Silence returned once again. It was announced that the flight was late. So, Anindita didn't have to leave the place  awkwardly leaving back Rachael in a strange hustle of emotions.

Rachael continued," I came to Mumbai, I went to the flat at Bandra where they were supposed to live but there was nothing there, except remnants of bloodshed, there was nothing there. I did not even know that my parents no more existed in this world . They were gone for the last five years. When I had watched the Mumbai terror attacks over news media, I felt sorry for them. I sympathised with them but I never knew it would gift me such, such a loss."

Tears dropped Anindita's cheek as well.

~" I've no other option now. I'll go to Kolkata, to search that old grandmother if she's yet living . I'll search a job there. I don't know how to find her in the big, big city..."

Some announcements were made in the backdrop and even the perfumes of sealed colognes could not cover the smell of stale yellow roses and delphiniums kept in Rachael's handbag .