AnuPre SS ~ Eye of the Storm (Vol 2)

Chapter 1: Cradle to Grave

It had been four months now, the summers had gone, paving way to the monsoon season in Calcutta, the once parched gardens were now lush green, nature was back in bounty representing the circle of life, every hardship precedes joy; if it were true then why couldn't Anurag feel a shift in his heart? It had been four months since he came to know about the tragic demise of his baby daughter Sneha – four whole months of numbness, four months of just existing. In the initial phase at least there were tears, shedding which he felt less suffocated for a while, but now they were gone too – no happiness, no sadness, and no remorse – just a flat line existence.

Anurag didn't care what happened to his life, much less to what happened to the people around him. His business was tanking, they had suffered severe losses, it seemed like the partnership his company had with Prerna's was also falling through, his stakeholders were unhappy, tabloids were giving them a trial by media for trying to use a SEZ land as a commercial plot for a mall; his wife Komolika was busy firefighting for the survival of their business, while his mother was in shock seeing the state of disinterest and apathy towards life that her son had suddenly developed.

His only place of solace in life up till this point was his little girl Diya, but after finding out about Sneha, he couldn't even look at her – every time he looked at her, he felt guilty. He was guilty of paying so much attention to his Diyu that he never realised his heart, his angel, his cutie-pie was not even alive. How was he a good father, if he couldn't save his daughter from death? Let alone save, he didn't even bother to find out if she was alive, it took him eight years to know that a part of his own blood and flesh was dead when he was busy playing family and putting up fake charades with his wife Komolika.

It was only in Moloy Basu he found some respite, his Baba was the only person who could reach through to him – and he was the only person Anurag had confided in, about the news of Sneha's demise – the rest of the family didn't know, he felt his pain was too personal, too raw to be exposed just yet; also who was he going to share his pain with? Komolika, who'd probably be overjoyed to know of this, or his mother and sister who never believed that Sneha was his child to begin with?

After seeing the kind of wreck he had become in the time that followed, Moloy Basu had no choice but to finally confront Anurag – he realised his son needed to heal, and for that he had to be bereft of all other responsibilities. Hence he had suggested that his 'Onu' took a break from his regular life, he told Anurag that he wanted him to be away from his domestic life for a while, take a pause, a breather, make space for himself in his life and deal with the loss and grief in his own way before getting back and on with life.

Anurag had first smiled at his father's suggestion – like moving afar would make a difference, the hurt that he had was something he was carrying inside him, the pain, the anguish, the loss, the guilt – it would travel with him to wherever he went, how was he to ever going to find peace? But he listened to him anyway, he needed the calm and quiet that his moving away would allow, not because he was looking for peace, not because he thought he deserved it either – he wanted to be in a quiet place, far away from all his life offered to sit quietly and focus on the pain that he now carried around with him. That's what he thought he deserved and that's what he wanted to serve as self-punishment when he decided to move out of Basu mansion, sever ties with the company and move into a small studio in the older part of the city – in North Calcutta.

It had been a month now, Anurag's life had found cadence, and he had a fixed routine for his day. He would wake up early morning and go jogging for an hour, on his way back he would sit at a café and have his breakfast and read the news, on his way back home, he would pick up fresh vegetables and come back home to finish his little household chores and prepare his lunch. He would then freshen up and have his lunch, and read books all afternoon, listening to the rain splatter outside his window – but the early evening was his favourite part of the day – he would walk to his balcony with a cup of coffee and watch the kids in the neighbourhood come out to play on the narrow streets of North Calcutta, their joy made him feel a little bit alive, the screaming, the laughter, the banter, the liveliness. That was the only time in the day Anurag felt a bit alive, and then after dusk when darkness would begin to settle outside, a heaviness would set in him – in the initial days, this was the time he dreaded the most, but then he picked up on something – there was a rickety old store for musical instruments down the lane to where he lived, one fine day he decided to visit it and pick up a guitar!

Back in his college, he use to play the guitar quite well, even sing a little, but then life happened and he was very far from this side of him – now in the evening he would usually play the guitar, try singing, pick up a song and spend his time – strangely even in music he found some peace, he felt less hollow; maybe he was healing, he thought, but did he really deserve to heal?