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Chapter 1
By : Akashlina Mukherjee
" Sign here."...he smiled as I did the signature.
The day of admission. And as usual, I had forgotten my pen at home. I become so over anxious about new events and things, that I forget the simplest jobs to be done. Eventually, I was highly embarrassed to ask for a pen from a bunch of strangers around. And I stood like an idiot with my admission form in hand at one corner of the 'Student's section'. Someone shoot me! Who forgets a pen on the day of admission?
I looked around to search for a somewhat kind face. Everyone looked 'somewhat' kind. But I doubt if such a kind face has been born till date who can make me start a conversation. I don't have the slightest idea of the kind of kindness I have been looking for.
In the process of searching for 'kind ones' , I caught sight of a mirror, very hazy though, hanging at one worn out corner of the large room. And a very unattractive figure stared back at me through the silvered glass. How could I wear this ochre yellow kurti? And how the hell did I forget to apply sunscreen or even some lip glosses? I immediately lost the slightest possible enthusiasm to search for a pen-lender.
" Any problem? "
A medium sized man stood before me, with a ear to ear smile . Yes, 'very' medium sized and 'very' average looking, but with a 'very' deep pair of eyes, hidden behind glasses. The eyes immediately caught me. But keeping that aside, I was embarrassed yet again, with the idea that my embarrassment had shown up so much on face that some good soul had come to rescue.
I managed to bring a smile on face though.
" no...err...I mean...I can't find my pen..."
" here...take it." , he handed over to me his pen spontaneously. And he was smiling. Still.
I immediately sat down to fill up the form. I was already late, and later I realised that as usual, I had forgotten to thank him. Throughout my form-filling process, he stood by my side. Maybe for his pen.
As I finished, he took the form from my hand. " Come with me."
Everything and everyone were very new to me, and I didn't know what was happening or going to happen. I simply followed my admission form hanging from some stranger's hand who was walking ahead.
He pushed through a crowd of new comers (like me), and got me to the office of the dean before a bunch of others who were standing . When they made some noise as to how I could get in first without standing in a queue, to my horror and terror, he replied. " She's my acquaintant. And she's really not well. Pardon us ."
I have always been told till date that when a stranger helps suddenly without a reason, there is something fishy. Moreover, I have been warned by some wise people of my life, " Medical students have a sheer tendency of grabbing juniors to retype their relationship status on Facebook. Don't give into them easily. "
No. I was really not feeling well now.
As I finished my job and came out of the office, I realised that his pen remained with me, but he wasn't around. I looked around just for the sake of the pen, when I heard a small cough behind me.
" Hello Ms Mukherjee. Welcome to MCK, , kolkata! This college is as much yours as is mine from this very day. Well... I am Vivaan Roy. Final year..part 1." ... he was STILL smiling.
I smiled back. But before I could say anything, came running the answer to the question bubbling in my mind.
" You might be wondering how I know you or why I helped you in particular among many others. Do you know Rohit choudhury? You must. He knows you as the most brilliant student of his school, with amazing results in boards and a great JEE rank. He's my roommate and batch mate". . He stopped.
And I was extremely relieved. How can I forget Rohit dada? Such an adorable senior he was in my school days! My wide teeth showed my joy.
" Thanks for the pen."
" Keep it. As I said, everything within the campus is as much yours as is mine. Remember me when you need."
He turned to go. And his receding silhouette left a smile on my face.
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Chapter 2
By : Akashlina Mukherjee
" Lina...see who's at the door! "
Aunty was busy choosing the perfect jewellery that matched the light pink saree that lay on her bed. I stole a glance. It looked flabbergasting! If I am sheerly not mistaken, she's going to one of those graceful late night functions of her club. I placed the glass of orange juice on her dressing table and rushed to the door.
A little brown kid with an indifferent expression stood at the door. " Ma is very ill. She won't turn up tomorrow! "
" What? What happened to her? Listen! Wait!!!!!"
Before I could even make out that he was the son of our maid servant, he was off.
I stood biting my nails , my eyes widened in terror. Goodness! No! Never should anyone else in the house get to know this any sooner. Otherwise...
" Who was there? "
Oh no! Grandma! Why does she have to have such an odd timing always!
I slowly closed the door, a thousand thoughts clouding my mind. I turned to find my Grandma inquisitively staring at me. I stared back at her, with my eyes still wide, my nails still being mercilessly abused by my teeth.
" Anything terribly wrong? Who was there Lina?"
I immediately controlled my 'weird' stares.
" I.. I don't know. I guess Sheila aunty is having some health issues...she might not turn up tomorrow...", I stopped.
No! Please don't say what I am pretty sure you would ,grandma ! Even if you don't by any slight chance, I know aunty would say. But for God's sake, both of you don't. Please!
" What? Tomorrow? Did you just say tomorrow? "
Aunty stood at her bedroom door, dressed all in pink. She looked like a princess ,except for that frown on her face . And I swear I could only see that frown then. Her prettiness I later got. As for then, only her frown was my concern.
" These people, they only need excuses. She knows extremely well that his boss is coming for lunch tomorrow. Just because she will have some extra work to do, she's playing tantrums! "
She disgustingly put the empty glass on the dining table.
Grandma stood silent..watching me and aunty.
By the way, by 'his' she meant ,my uncle's. He has got a high post to hold and some exclusive guests to be invited very often. And I exclusively hate such occasions.
" Now you don't start crying that you will have to go to college tomorrow. Stay at home and help me."
With such a bunch of 'sweet' words directed to me, she retired to her bedroom with the door slammed upon our faces. And I didn't know if I should cry out aloud or curse my helplessness.
Grandma did her silent job of standing for a few more minutes. And then left for her routine afternoon visit to the terrace. She didn't care. That's all.
I stood alone in the dining hall.
The final demonstrations to the dissections of the superior extremity are to be held tomorrow. And if I missed that, I will surely have to pay for that in the first exams of my first year in college. I just cannot afford to have a bad first exam. Ever. But do I have a choice this time? Do I really have a gut to walk up to aunty and shout out loud, " I cannot compromise the beginning of my career for feeding your husband's boss..."
**Stop thinking Lina. No one will come up to wipe off the line of flow from the corner of your eyes to the corner of your mouth, generated by over thinking.**
I walked upto my bedroom. My daily routine flashed through my mind. The alarm pulls me up at 5. With every single member in the house floating in their respective sweet dreams, I make breakfast for all of them, because my grandpa and my uncle have a special inclination towards me making their breakfast . This process is on for the last 5 years, since when I learnt to cook almost everything. By 6 I pack my breakfast, and leave for college. I return at 5 in the evening, my body and mind both curiously strength-less after a war of survival through the buses of Kolkata, and yet I don't have a moment to lie down. I iron their dresses, I make snacks, I cook the complete course of dishes on dinner invitations of their high profile guests, I polish their shoes , I clean their beds, their wardrobes, their...
**Come on Lina. They're the ones who have taken care of you for the last 12 years, since when the pretty couple hanging from your bedroom wall left you without even thinking what you would do without them. It's your duty to take care of their needs as much as you can. Without complaining. Ever. **
I stood silently before the big still photograph of my wonderful parents, whose car fell of a cliff in Darjeeling, while I was sleeping peacefully in Kolkata in this very house in my grandma's lap.
Since then I have been sleeping 'peacefully' among my grandpa, grandma ,uncle, aunty ,my little cousin sister and my big cousin brother. They have fed me, clothed me, taught me and paved my way to the platform on which I can stand for myself. And I curse them at times?
Curse me god. Curse me!
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Thanks for reading. I will continue if someone likes.
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