KOLKATA DIARIES.

3.

The Kumortuli house looked as if a child was playing with pastel shades, mixing them on the sketchbook. Though plaster was coming out of the walls, they looked weirdly welcoming, pristine and Chitrolekhaa was stagnated in an ocean of thoughts.

The house was laid afresh. Ram kaka vigorously cleansed the window panes, aching all these days and pressed hard against the mosaic floor. The Attic was brushed and the three storey with the bricks peeping out and sarees dangling from the trodden balcony looked as if in a parallax altogether. However, it strangely smelled of home.

Chitrolekhaa busied herself in making chingri machher malaikari and currently doodh chaa for the huge family. Skipping today's morning rewaz, she received a good deal of scolding from Jethu(Anindita's mesho), but she was fluttering like a butterfly today.

She's no one of this Chatterjee family in flesh and blood but since forever she's theirs. Her journey from a.b.c.d to Philosophy honours in Presidency all encompasses them. But today, was special. A cornucopia of dishes were prepared, new books adorned the old library and the sky looked a bit more different. Monimaa asked her to wear the black and white "dorakata" sharee like the one of Bhoomi in Prothom Alo and as a habit, a layer of kajol, a neatly tied bun, silver earrings, bangles and anklets jingling on all her body accompanied her.

God knows why she was wandering perpetually amidst the particles of the mirror fixing the kalo tip in the proper place and boro boudi who came back from Ottawa just last week, was smiling widely from the threshold. Chitrolekhaa blushed. And then from the old wooden cupboard from behind the hardbound books of Robi Thhakur, she found a rakhi and an old photograph and she smiled, a shy, rhetorical smile.

There were sepia streaks in the photograph . All the children of the home were accentuated in it. The elder ones married ,all squandered helter skelter in the subcontinent, abroad and one perhaps permanently settled in Oxford. Only, she was held back by the serene sunsets and durga pujos of the city of joy.

A quintessential yellow taxi honked and unlike always she did not rush to the roadside verandah but hid herself in the kitchen. Ajoy da was home after ten long years.

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There was an uncanny joy wrapping up the morbid house celebrating the arrival of the favourite child after an era.

The younger ones had decked up for seeing their kakai or mama for the first time. Monimaa had plattered the hallowed walls of this trodden house with a graffiti of sentiments. There were footsteps reverberating in the stairs and the corridor, Chitrolekhaa turned off the gas burner but remained in the kitchen. She had no idea how or rather why should she approach, being an outsider. She didn't know why she suddenly started feeling inferior while on the other days it was she who kept the house rocking and she's the one  who was closest to the person who had come.

Chitrolekhaa met Ajoy at the table. And she knew, all this while people were searching her. He couldn't understand it was Chitrolekhaa at the first instance but she noticed him silently. His solemn nature with little talks and wide smile and perfect jawline was preserved. In addition, he had started keeping a French cut beard and probably a costly cologne.

~" Kire, Ajoy , Chitra k chinte perechhish?", sneaked out chhordi.
(Hey, Ajoy, did you recognise Chitra?)

The prawn coated with coconut milk remained in his hand. He noticed  Chitrolekhaa carefully. " Chitra, literally how much did you grow up! So, must have forgotten Ajoy da with time right. It's two hours I've come and you still did not come once rushing to my room." There was a strange melancholy mingled in his voice. She remained silent, not knowing what or rather how to reply.

The afternoon was lazy and the sunshine was welcoming. Chitrolekhaa was standing on the roof viewing the cityscape fast asleep. Below the shabby shacks were filled with clay idols, photographers flooded in to click the raw form of the Goddess. It was Autumn.

She heard footsteps. She knew them way too well and like always her heart started throbbing. Only yesterday's Ajanta slippers got exchanged with leather ones but  Ajoy da had remained all the same. He stood beside her in his usual gentle and adorable nature.
~"Chitra, you've remained all the same, pausing time, as if today is yet yesterday. That bun, that same style of wearing sharee , that glare, that kajol everything has remained same only the height has increased.",chuckled Ajoy.

Chitra glared back, " As if yours haven't, abd by the way, French cut huh! Seriously, can't believe."

Ajoy smiles back. " Even the kajol has remained all the same. Who has given those anklets by the way ?"

Chitrolekhaa turns back . " Think all nonsense", she laughs out," Didi bhai has given to wear."

~"oh!" , Ajoy neared Chitrolekhaa. She could feel his warm breath on her shoulders.
Twilight was colourfully silent and then breaking the silence Ajoy asked, " Ever loved someone?"

But there was no time in the flood of crimson sundown, Chitrolekhaa could spot another yellow taxi down and a most known face in a kurta and leggings and she was in exulatation, " what a beautiful surprise, Ani, Ani (Anindita), has come." She ran downstairs.