Crossing the Mirage Passing through Youth

by welcome

  railway station and imagine boarding the trains that are a heartbeat away from the green

  signal! But all can"t be lucky, all the time, and the queues of hapless souls who've missed

  the trains could well be the index of Cal"s chaos.”

  “Isn"t it a mirror image of unrequited lovers?” she said reminiscently. “Either way that

  is.”

  “Well, nothing symbolizes Cal better than Kalighat I suppose” he continued with his

  account of the place. “I haven"t seen a more chaotic place than the Kali temple there that's

  too small for the furious goddess, with that protruding tongue. Then the ritual of animal

  sacrifice, before the deity itself, in the precincts of the temple, and bless the goddess, how

  the leeches of the priests bleed the jostling crowds to the dreg what with heir knack to spot

  the gullible first-timers bordering on sorcery. By the time you"re through with your

  perambulations, you find your wallet lighter for the assorted blessings you"ve had from

  them, at every corner of Her majestic pedestal. When you come out in the end, you would

  tend to think but for Her divine hand, the edifice of faith would"ve long crumbled at Her

  shrine itself.”

  “Won"t all that give it a torrid look?”

  “Well, try worshipping the sedate Kali in Her serene posture at Dakshineswar,” he said,

  “and you may find you"re far off from the devotional fervor that accounts for the religious

  faith. I felt if Kalighat is Cal, Belur Mutt across the Hooghly is some other world. That"s not

  all, thanks to the red light area nearby; devotion and debauchery go hand in hand at

  Kalighat. Why can"t I be frank with you? I used to go to a joint at the Free School Street for a

  fling or two, well nothing free about it though, but the schooling was not bad there. I never

  ventured into Sonagachi, for I heard it was a crowded bazaar but once I felt like trying it

  out at a Kalighat brothel.”

  “Don"t I know,” she said winking at him, “what all you learnt in that Free School

  Street?”

  “Mind you, it"s still it"s a learning curve,” he said in smile, “and as I entered the zone

  that evening, I found it was all lit up. There were girls all over, decked up in the traditional

  attire. Though I sauntered up and down, as none came to solicit, I approached the best

  looking one, only to learn that being Karthika Purnima it was a day of abstinence for them.

  As bachelors form the bulk of their clientele, seems it was their custom to appease Karthik,

  the Bachelor God, without any indulgence that day. What an ingenious way to appease the

  demigod to further their trade.”

  “Oh, what to say of customs,” she said in smile, “was it a wild goose chase then?”

  “Why, I came across a beautiful transgressor,” he said winking at her. “But there is

  more to it. Soon after we were alone, as there was a brawl outside, I wanted to lave, but she

  wanted me to stay as otherwise it amounts to paying for her for nothing. When I told her

  not to bother, she said it would matter to her if I don"t make it with her and sensing that I

  didn"t believe her, she told me she rarely gets to sleep with a decent man. Oh, what a lesson

  in love and life that was for me.”

  “Oh, how are these women supposed to fleece of their customers?” she asked.

  “Not all of them as it seems,” he said. “If Cal is formidable for its structural grandeur,

  it"s the women who provide it its splendor. I may say Bengali women are apart with most

  of them being above average and any connoisseur of the fair sex would second my opinion.

  Like the statistical line of poverty, if ever an empirical line of beauty is devised, I"m sure

  you would find very few Bengali women below par. Maybe, it"s the Bengali way of

  celebrating the charms of their women by centering all their festivities on various

  goddesses. Where else are Durga Puja, Kali Puja, and Saraswati Puja celebrated with such

  pomp and pageantry?”

  “Oh how lucky,” she said mirthfully, “you weren"t hooked by any!”

  “Well, my ardency for the Bengali beauty was dampened by the domineering nature I

  noticed in many,” he said. “But yet I couldn"t take my eyes off them, especially during the

  times of Durga Puja. Nights come alive during those thirteen days while life ceases during

  the daytime. You should only see to believe Cal's infectious atmosphere during those days.

  It"s as though no one stays at home during those nights. Millions are ever on the move from

  one puja pandal to the other till the wee hours. Once I got naughty and came out unscathed

  with the skin of my teeth. With my hand on Gopal"s shoulder, I squeezed the breast of a

  teenaged beauty as I passed her by but as she cried foul and before the mob could react, I

  melted in the multitude. Well Gopal wasn"t harmed as the girl didn"t name him and joining

  me shortly thereafter, he told me I would"ve got lynched then and there but for my

  presence of mind.”

  “So from bottom pinching,” she said naughtily, “you"ve graduated to bosom brushing

  and commuting by bus would've been handy.”

  “But once I tie the knot,” he said heartily, “don"t you think my hands would be tied as

  well? Well, in Cal, if you don"t want to miss your bus to the office, you should be fighting

  fit, no matter your gender and age, you won"t board a bus in Cal; you just barge into it that

  is against all odds. No quarter is asked or given even to the fair sex. They too have to go

  through the same grind, but once inside, courtesy beckons them at every turn with men

  offering them seats all over. Oh, what can you make of that?”

  “Well, having taken the woman on board,” she said in the lighter vein, “man knows it

  pays to keep her in good humor, doesn"t he?”

  “Don't I know you are naughty,” he said enthusiastically, “but on the trams, one fares

  much better there, literally that is. It"s a funny sight to see some pretending to be fast asleep

  as the conductor approaches them for the fare. Maybe, being wiser for his unpleasant

  experiences on earlier occasions, the conductor prefers not to disturb such. But once their

  destination is reached, these sleepy bhadraloks alight from it with alacrity. Oh, all this farce,

  when one can travel from one end to the other for a fare of eighteen paisa! It appears

  communism doesn"t confine itself to proletariat in Calcutta. It seems to be at work at all

  levels of its society. Doesn"t the state own all property and isn"t the state our very own? So

  the state property is people"s own property and why should pay for the services of what

  he owns and it could as well be the reasoning of the Bengali intellect.”

  “What makes communism tick there?”

  “It"s not for nothing that communism is so well entrenched in Bengal"s polity,” he said,

  assuming the tone of a political pundit. “The philosophy of communism is but the credo of

  the Bengali: high on rhetoric and slow to takeoff. Could it be any different given the Bengali

  penchant for artistic excellence? What an artistic people these Bengalis are. Why should

  things mundane interest them at all? See the creative range of the pandals erected for Durga

  Puja and others, and you would get to know the brilliance of their ingenuous minds. After

  all, communism is all about each working according to his abilities and paid according to

  one's needs. What abilit
ies can an illiterate possess and what more would the poor need

  than a plate of mori and a cup of chai, that together cost twenty-five paisa. It"s a different

  matter that the gentry feign asleep, on the trams, to save much less than that.”

  “What a city of contrasts the Cal is!”

  “The contradictory ethos of the Calcuttans is no less puzzling,” he said. “Even as they

  come out in numbers to mourn the death of a minor comrade, they all remain immune to

  the plight of the rickshawala, who doubles up for a mule. One evening, Gopal engaged a

  rickshaw though I felt odd about it. But after a short ride , to my great surprise, my

  conscience stopped troubling me, maybe, it"s in communism to cast a shadow on the

  collective consciousness of the Calcuttans, and well the rickshawalas serve the needy,

  otherwise too, by pimping for the prostitutes. It"s amusing to see them line up their

  rickshaws near the pavements at the Dharmatalla and ring their hand bells as a call for

  service.”

  “Maybe, once we taste the creature comforts,” she said intuitively, “we turn insensitive

  to our fellow beings.”

  “Oh, dear, it"s so like the Bengali articulation-- intellectually stimulating,” he said in

  apparent admiration. “You would come across that at the coffee houses and the tea stalls

  alike. At the bars, however, it could all be bawdy as intoxication and articulation make a

  heady mix. Gopal was a little too fond of drink. On occasion, he used to drag me to a bar at

  the Jaggu Bazaar that he frequented. Once I met there a marwari businessman who was

  trying to rope me in ever since I began rejecting his supplies. Inebriated by then, he

  demanded that I tell him why not I favor him by taking a bribe? I told him that my income

  lets me a drink or two at a bar and a fling or two at some brothel, that too occasionally. And

  if I start compromising, I said, the easy money could bring me to the bar daily and might

  lead me to the whores regularly, injuring my health permanently and the Bengali, who

  overheard us, began articulating about the corruption of their culture by the marwari

  businessmen. And this led to a brawl naturally.”

  “Oh you, sensible as ever!” she said ruffling his hair and smelled her palm for

  Keo-Karpin.

  “What a romantic reminder,” he said exultantly, “but I used to feel sad at the Victoria

  Memorial, designed to uplift Cal's haggard souls. You may remember my friend Soni from

  my Ranchi days,”

  “The papaya lover you mean.”

  “Not a bad memory,” he said, “we met again in Cal and I used to go there with him

  once in a way. Finding couples all over cuddle around the tree trunks, I used to crave for

  some fun with Kala but as he was critical of those lovers once, I told him that it„s all sour

  grapes, and that he would find the company of a lass far more preferable than mine, if only

  he could manage one.”

  “We shall make it to the Victoria Memorial,” she said animatedly, “well before our

  lovers" tag starts getting faded. Why, we shall have our honeymoon in your Cal.”

  “Won't I love it,” he said leaning over her shoulder.

  “That is after Vasu gets his just deserts.”

  Just Deserts

  Soon they were at the Honeycomb to the hearty welcome of the Chandras.

  “What a reunion!” said Chandra hugging Sathya.

  “What a pair you make!” Nithya couldn"t hide her admiration

  “We owe it all to you!” Sathya addressed Chandra.

  “I feel, we owe it to Nithya no less,” said Prema, taking Nithya"s hand.

  “What a twist of destiny!” said Chandra with mixed feelings.

  „Well, to push Vasu into the doghouse" Nithya thought with satisfaction.

  By the time they sat for dinner, the logistics to stop Vasu in his tracks were worked out.

  After Vasu came back, it was agreed that Prema would stay at the Honeycomb till she

  got her divorce. Well, Sathya would be a welcome guest all the time. That way, Vasu

  couldn"t cast any aspersions on Prema during the divorce proceedings. Besides, her

  presence would deter him from stalking Nithya. As Prema was averse to dealing with Vasu

  anymore, Nithya took it upon her to deliver the missive penned by Prema for him. It was

  agreed that Nithya would invite Vasu to the Honeycomb instead of her going to the Ritz,

  and deal with him appropriately. Well, Chandra and company would lie in wait just in

  case. Sathya who was impressed by Nithya"s spiritedness thought that Vasu could"ve met

  his nemesis in her.

  The D-day came two days later, and as expected, Vasu rang up Nithya, only to be led

  into her trap.

  “If it were okay for you here,” said Vasu in anticipation, as he came in, “why did you

  deny me all these days?”

  “I called you for a different reason,” said Nithya feigning nervousness.

  “Enough of leading me up the garden path,” said Vasu determinedly. “It's time I had

  you even if it comes to raping.”

  “You'll turn cold if you hear the news.”

  “Why, what happened?”

  “Your letter has fallen into Chandra"s hands and he"s sore about us.”

  “Good riddance bad rubbish,” he stated gleefully. “If he divorces you, my absurd

  proposal would no longer be absurd. Prema could take care of me and I"ll maintain you.”

  “But sadly,” she said affecting pity, “Prema chose to desert you to see you get your just

  deserts.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It's what Prema thinks that counts, isn't it?” she said as she handed him Prema"s fatal

  missive.

  Vasu,

  When you first disclosed your love, I made it known to you that I loved Sathya.

  Having told me about his affection for his classmate when you goaded me to

  break with him, I believed you acted out of your own love for me. Well, all is fair

  in love and war, I thought. But it was only after our marriage that I realized you

  eyed me only for my money. Had I not burnt my bridges with Sathya, I would"ve

  walked out on you then and there. So I stayed put in a cold storage of a marriage.

  When I"d seen you flirting with Nithya, I didn"t care, as we"ve no love lost

  between us. But when I saw your letter to her, shaming me, I could take it no

  more. If it was right for you to goad me to leave the man I loved because he

  slighted my love, you can"t say it"s wrong for me to leave the spouse who

  demeans me to curry the favor of another woman.

  As I have decided to leave you, it"s only proper you shouldn"t have anything that

  would remind me of you. So I"ve given away to the needy all those goodies that

  my father gave us. Any day now you would get the summons from the court and

  it may be wise for you not to contest, for your letter of shame is in my possession.

  I"m going in search of Sathya to make amends as best as I can. If I can"t become his

  wife, it would still be honorable becoming his mistress. My only regret is I"ve

  dishonored myself by being your wife for so long!

  Never Yours,

  Prema.

  „Oh God!" he collapsed, „I"m ruined."

  “Be a man, Vasu,” Nithya said tauntingly. “After all, being a woman, I didn"t cry when

  you left me in the lurch then. But, there"s still hope for you. If Chandra chooses to leave me,

  I may still come to you, of course, along with his child
in my womb. You can have it as a

  bonus, won"t you? Moreover, there would be no need to spend on abortion as its no shame

  conceiving in marriage. Isn"t it?”

  “Oh stop it,” said Vasu in exasperation. “Now it"s clear, you planned it all and took

  your revenge. You"d induced me to write that letter to use it for my ruin. You prompted me

  for our family friendship to turn Prema against me. Oh, how you poisoned her mind. You

  bitch!”

  “Mind your language, Mister!” said Nithya contemptuously, “and then stop blaming

  me. Why, I was indifferent to you when we met again and I snubbed you when you came

  to my place to cajole me ands yet you coveted me, didn"t you? Oh, how you had hinted at

  blackmailing me! You thought I would chicken out and come to sleep with you, didn"t you?

  Fool, did I ask you to write that your wife is cold? As you sow, so you reap, you better

  realize that?”

  Vasu got up to leave.

  “Blame it upon your attitude towards women,” she said as he crossed the threshold of

  her house. “Blame it upon your lack of character. Blame it upon your mean nature.”

  “It pays to know that our nature is our fate,” Nithya said, slamming the door after him.