Some Fiction, Some Truth; A series (Short Stories)

Fair and Handsome???

I boarded a train to Jamshedpur from Howrah. I and my husband were returning from Chennai. We had separate seats in the same compartment. Our co- passengers were a couple in their 30s (a Marathi couple) and another aged couple may be in their 60s (they were Bengali settled in Mumbai). The Bengali bhodrolok was a retired personnel who worked in the ordinance factory.

As the journey resumed the Bengali bhodrolok forcefully had an introduction with me. With due respect I told him I am a so-called writer, as in until you are a name in such creative fields, the best of the best sellers in the market no one really  cares about who you are and what you write. But he seemed delighted to know about my passion, my profession. He kept on saying creativity in any form should not be judged by monetary gains and such people are special and God-gifted. I just smiled back in return. He resumed his questionnaire, right from when did I get married to what I was doing in Jamshedpur and who was the guy, coming in between and checking out if everything was right with me! The Bhodrolok was actually referring to Kunal; my husband. Kunal stayed back there for a few minutes and then again went back to his seat. When I told the gentleman about Kunal being my husband, his expression was ridiculous. And the comment that he made thereafter left me stunned;

"Such a black man and such a white wife."

I was shocked, my mind went blank, was short of words. And to add to it, the so-called white Marathi couple were laughing at it. The Bengali bhodrolok then added a nonsensical joke.

"I have a friend just like her husband and his wife is very fair and we used to have fun as in they will be having zebra crossing like kids." I felt like slapping that man. I  was fearing that God forbid, Kunal does not come in now. I do not want him to listen to such idiotic stuff. I knew how much that will hurt him. As we were nearing Tatanagar, and were getting ready with our luggage, I went towards that man and softly said to him, 

"With all due respect sir, I assumed a certain degree of respect for you after knowing your professional background and your friendly nature. But I must say that, at the most you are just a literate idiot who has not been educated enough and who is still lagging a couple of centuries back where colour of the skin was seen as deterrent in society..."

Anyway, time came to de-board...

Some Fiction, Some Truth; A Series (Short Stories)

THE MORNING WALK

I had a regular habit of going for morning walks. Although I used to have my share of fast food. I could not resist burgers, pizzas, papri chaats, etc if someone offered them. To neutralise the ill-effects of these to some extent, morning walks are a must for me. One fine day while returning after my rounds, I met a dida (grandmother referred to in Bengali) at quarter no Z-42 sitting near her gate. She  was so graceful that I could not help smiling and staring at her. She made me remember my dida and I could not help talking to her. She was delighted that someone of our age who generally are considered one of the insensitive genre in today's world had some time to talk to an old lady. We chatted for an hour and then I left, reassuring her that I would come back the next day to see her.

The very next day I was returning from morning walk through the same route and found no one and the door was closed. It was the same thing the day after. So, I decided to check out. Some one finally opened the door after two three knocks. I asked him if he was Debasish Choudhury and he nodded in affirmative. He generously asked about my identity and I told him that I know your mother, Shudha Choudhury. I just met her two three days back and I could not complete my sentence, I noticed her photo garlanded, hanging on the wall. Debasish was like; what the hell are you saying madam, she has expired two years back. I had nothing else to say but to eat my words.Now Debasish began to suspect my identity, and with very difficulty I convinced him that I belong to a respectable family and I stay a kilometre or so away in the X-type quarters. I was allowed to go.

But I could not understand anything. The incident left me confused and disturbed. The next day I went through the  same way and as usual did not find anyone. The house was locked. I returned home after my walk and as usual took bath. My mother woke me up. Oh! No, that was just a dream, but quite a scary one.

As usual the next day I went for my morning walk through that route the vision of which I had last night. Yes a road as such existed in reality and can you believe it there was an official accommodation; Z-42 and there was an old lady standing at the gate. I did not go further for any query...I just walked away...