Paakhi

O N E

Sticky and sunny; two adjectives very rarely used together to describe the summers. But again, this was Kolkata to you. Forty six degree Celsius, with perspiration making even the cotton fabric stick to your back like you'd used an adhesive.

Aritro stood outside the Howrah Station exit. To his right, he could see the top of the majestic Howrah Bridge peeping from in between modest, middle class houses that had received limited government attention in the multiple decades they'd stood there unperturbed. Some had peeling paints, others had cracked exteriors...but out and out, you got some serious flavour of Old Kolkata in this specific part of the city.

His plan had originally been to just book an Uber bike for himself.

But things had changed. The change had wailed its lungs out in recurring pangs throughout the train journey, earned him multiple eye rolls from strangers and defaced and urinated enough times for him to loose count. Within less than twenty four hours, Aritro; who had been a free spirited bachelor one morning ago; had mastered the art of lulling a baby to sleep and changing diapers after every few hours.

The mother of the child had disappeared yes, but nothing about her form of disappearance felt like a planned one. For starters, who left all their luggage behind?

Of course, he'd been too petrified to touch her belongings first. He'd even considered just leaving the child and getting on with his own life. But again, his instinct and his grooming complicated things. When the baby had peed itself and its diaper's smell had started to cause objectionable gazes directed his way, he had had no choice but to go through the clichéd pink coloured bag he hadn't noticed next to another backpack before.

It had everything. Diapers, baby clothes, a milk bottle...

The woman had even left behind her wallet in the other backpack. He'd been too preoccupied with the baby to start looking through all her stuff.

The kid looked restless even in her sleep, he couldn't care to imagine how dishevelled he must look. He hadn't slept a wink. They were both clearly having a rough time.

Upgrading his earlier plans, Aritro tried to book himself an Uber cab; only to realize his internet was not in the mood to cooperate. Frustrated and tired, he decided to let an over-enthusiastic taxi driver lead him towards his yellow taxi.

The driver turned out to be quite tolerable much to his surprise, who kept showing Aritro additions to the new Kolkata post the beginning of the 'new' Chief Minister's political tenure the moment he realized Aritro was a Kolkatan who hadn't visited the city in a while. Aritro didn't bother to explain that he'd been there to vote for the new CM and had even watched these 'new' constructions before he'd left.

He couldn't thank the man enough for neither bothering to judge nor question him about the little baby he carried in his arms.

Whoever thought gym was the only way to tone one's arm muscles was horribly mistaken. Try carrying a new born child for twenty four hours!

One hour and eleven minutes of travelling through mind-numbing traffic later, he realized this was the last moment of normal he would be enjoying in a while. His family would not handle the news of the kid the way the cab driver had handled it.

Real smooth, Dada. He addressed the driver in his head, I wish Ma, Baba, Kaku, Kakima...everybody took this news like you.

Imagine being the youngest son of a joint family. Imagine leaving the city and your grandfather's palatial house for your dream job against your family's wishes. Imagine returning home after two years for a mere span of seven days.