"Ei nao, gormagorom chaa aar murmure biskut.'" The boy came and offered me the cup of tea and two biscuits.
"De." I took it from him and gave him the money.
Drinking tea in a clay cup is an old tradition of Bengalis. One day it will also be a part of our heritage. Still Kolkata would be incomplete without tea in clay cups or 'matir bhaar'. Streets of Kolkata are incomplete without potholes. Meals of Kolkata are incomplete without fish. Rosogollas are the only dessert we know. A month in Kolkata is incomplete without strike. A day is incomplete without adda. A year is incomplete without Durga puja, and most important; life is incomplete without Kolkata. These all are our assets. We would still feel proud drinking tea in a clay cup, rather than in a proper polished cup! It makes us a proud Bengali.
"Aree...madaam aaichhe je. Ei Potlu, du kaap chaa aaine de."
I looked straight to see whom they were greeting as 'madaam'.
Aahana. Aahana? Aahana!
"Kire Chotu kemon achhish?" She asked Chotu about how his life was going.
First time I saw both audio and video of Aahana's. I know! A silly explanation!
I feel it every time that there is something wrong with our generation; because everywhere I see sad eyes on happy faces! Aahana was also not an exception. However, it was my personal view, but it seems every time, that she is just trying to act normal, like a happy woman, though her eyes do not state the same thing. The shine in her eyes clearly states that her eyes are always full of tears. It seemed that she absorbs all her pain with her beautiful smile. It seemed that her smile was a camouflage of her pain; but somehow her eyes were revealing the trick, by showing her pain to everyone. Moreover, what a pain it was. Ved!
"Ei nao go, madaam." Potlu handed her a cup of tea.
I felt that every sip of that warm tea was melting her pain. Moreover, those expressions of her face, after taking every sip of it, was not an expression of the pleasure that she was getting after consuming tea, but it felt that it was a site of relief, after melting of every pain of her.
I observed every single gesture of her. The way she was sipping, her expressions, everything. I knew that I do not need a million dollar telescope to see this crushing beauty. I enjoyed this moment that is probably not so interesting and lifeless for others. However, for me it was precious. She...was precious! My character was precious. Aahana was precious! I knew that these points should not bother me, but it did. I should not have cared about it, but I did!
Sometimes it is peculiar and feels strange...
"...babu chaa thanda hoye jabe je." Potlu interfered.
"Hya? Hya, hya, ei to khachchi. Uff...Potlu... tui o nah..."
Potlu suddenly turned back like a flip of Rajanikant and looked towards Aahana; and interestingly she too, made an eye contact with him.
Then...
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
They both started laughing and burst out to tears. I mean I did not say anything funny, did I? I-I was confused!
"Babu, my name is Potla, only madam calls me Potlu. Adorer namm go. Ha, ha, ha..."
"Baba, adikhkheta!"
"Here, take it." She handed a five-rupee note to Potlu. Aahhh...I mean Potla.
"Uhhh...aayeee...madaam madaam eii...teen taka to...du-du taka khuchro niye jao."
I do not know what I thought but I took the change that Aahana forgot to take and slowly reached her. She walks damn fast!
"Excuse me? Ma'am, ma'am?'
She looked back and I made a quick eye contact with her glittering eyes.
"Yes?" She spoke softly.
"EI DEKHE!"
A sudden call and a honk simultaneously from the left, forced me to look at that side.
IT WAS A TRUCK!
I pulled Aahana and somehow, we both avoided a severe accident. Actually, I somehow avoided death twice.
She was shocked from 'something' that happened in the past three seconds, and was still trying to figure it out.
"You would have been talking to a dead person right now." She replied after finally figuring out what actually happened.
"Sorry, but...actually, you forgot to take your change from Potlu."
"It is Potla."
"Oh yes, sorry sorry Potlu...I-I mean...from-from Potla."
Did she smile a little bit? I guess so!
"So value of my life is only two-rupee!"
"Right. Uhhh...what? No, no... I mean...I am sorry."
And she bursted again. I mean, standing at that point of time I thought that, was she really that calm and lifeless Aahana, whom I saw in the tram? Or is this one real? The smiling, laughing Aahana, with glittering eyes, hoping for a bright future of his son and not sharing the pain, which she was bearing in each cell of her body!
"All right, give it."
"Wh-what?"
"My change?"
"Oh yeah...yeah yeah, here."
"Thank you."
"Welcome Mademoiselle."
"Awww...French? That is so sweet of you by the way. Belle dame avec de beaux yeux."
"Sorry?" I was confused.
"It is a compliment. I know French too." She winked.
Winked? I mean really?
"Well thanks for saving my life though. I owe you." She showed her gratitude.
"It is fine."
"Uhhh...well then, bye I guess. Have a good day."
"Yeah same to you."
There was a tinge of a smile.
She crossed the tramline and slowly walked down the lane.
Oh! WHAT IS THIS?
I bent down to pick up the diary. Well, it is not a diary, but a book instead. Something with a title 'DIAGNOSIS OF SCHIZOPHRENIA'
Odd kind of a title.
OH WAIT! SCHIZOPHRENIA?
This book was a treasure for me! I so wanted a book on this topic.
I headed back towards Potla's tea stall.
"Ei Potla, ar ek cup chaa de to." I asked for another cup of tea.
"Biscoot?"
"Are na na." I refused.
I sat on the worn out bench and opened the book.
I glanced at all those points, which she ticked, and tried to write them in a fair way in my diary simultaneously. At least I tried to jot them down in a sensible way. However, I did not understand any of them, but what I observed was that she marked D.S.T and E.C.T many times.
• When a patient refuses to food and that leads to malnutrition deficiencies.
• When psychotic features accompany a patient's depression.
• When treating bipolar disorder, including both mania and depression.
• When a patient's depression is resistant to antidepressant therapy.
• When other medical ailments prevents the use of antidepressants ailment.
These were the rest of the points, highlighted in this book!
Hell of a torture Ved is going through, at this very tender age. I do not know, but if he is having these symptoms, then I really doubt whether God is there or not and if he is there, why is he cruel to a 'child'?
While I was closing the book, I saw a phone number at the corner of the ninth page. Thank God! I have Aahana's phone number at least. Therefore, I still have a chance to return this book to her. Perhaps discuss about Ved too, if she does not mind.
I felt a little bit relaxed and called Potla.
"I am done here boy. Here is the price."
"Okay babu. Abar ashben."
"Sure. I guess I need to come back again soon." I smiled and picked my stuffs and finally started heading towards home.
The 719 CTC tram was moving slowly, heading towards my address. I asked the conductor to slow down and I went in the tram. It was as usual almost empty, as I slowly walked in and took a window seat.
The only thing that was going in my head was that how everything started from a tram, and somehow these trams were too, a part of both my story and of my journey.
