“Excuse me can I make a local call from here?”
The PCO guy scanned the girl. She was small, petite and totally drenched. Perhaps that is why she was looking rather beautiful. She was trembling….was it the rain or something else? Why was she carrying the huge bag?
The PCO guy nodded and she entered the cubicle. In her hand she was holding a piece of pink paper-on that the number was written. She found her hands shaking, as she dialed the number. The voice on the other side was very harsh.
“Hallo?” said the man.
“Hallo…!” said the girl in a grasp.
“Who is it?” asked the voice on the other side.
“I’m Nilanjana. Can I talk to Santanu?” she said very mechanically.
“Which one? There are about three living in this hostel.”
“Umm…just ahh…can you just ask them? If any of them knows me? Santanu himself asked me to call this number.”
“Okay….hold on.”
Nilanjana and Santanu had met in a train journey. Nilanjana was on her way to her relative’s place in Bolpur. Santanu was traveling with his theatre group to participate in a drama competition in Bolpur.
At first Nilanjana did not like Santanu at all - his flamboyance, his easy going nature. His shoes were dirty, hair untidy, his shirt untagged - nothing like the men Nilanjana had seen all her life. Her father and four uncles were all into family business – a traditional, rather conservative, family. Men, around her, were always well-dressed, reserved, formal and protective. She feared these men and learned to keep a respectable distance from them. Her family taught her the difference between men and women, in their duties and behavior, and how both should preserve the same.
Nilanjana could tell that Santanu was never taught these essentials. He did not offer any help while she was struggling with her luggage. Santanu never offered her any tea when he and his friends were having tea. That also when she was the only girl there with Santanu sitting just next to her! From the very beginning she was trying to concentrate on a book and trying hard to overlook these misbehaviors. She certainly could not because Santanu was either talking loudly or singing at the top of his voice. To create more trouble there were two Baul singers whom Santanu joined and made the whole compartment sing along. After the ordeal was over, Nilanjana found Santanu and his friends talking in a whisper and looking stealthily at her. She could well imagine they were talking about her. Now this was the limit, she could not take it anymore. When Santanu came back to his seat, Nilanjana wanted to give him a piece of her mind. But there also Santanu started the conversation.
“You didn’t like the song, right?” asked Santanu in a very injured tone. Nilanjana was flabbergasted, didn’t know how to answer such a straight forward question.
“You know…” Santanu said again “The Baul culture is dying out of the heart of
“No…I do. But…” Nilanjana tried to defend herself and played a card against herself.
“Then sing us a song” said Santanu. He got up from the seat and shouted to his friends “she's going to sing us a song.”
Nilanjana: “But…I can’t…please…”
Santanu: “Now you have to sing! It’s the question of saving the Baul culture; it’s a question of
Nilanjana was taught to sing for marriage purposes. The songs she had learnt were
Nilanjana noticed this time Santanu was a bit kinder! Though he didn’t help her with the luggage, he personally offered her to accompany him and his group to Santiniketan. “You can even sing us a few songs.” allured Santanu. At that point Nilanjana really wanted to travel with him and be appreciated by him for what she is or for what she never has been. But Nilanjana was instructed to wait at the station for her bother-in-law to receive her. Nilanjana conveyed that to Santanu in a very regretful voice.
She had to wait for a bit too long. Nobody came even after two hours. She called up her sister from a booth near by and found out that they had confused the train-timing. Her sister suggested she take a rickshaw as she already knows the way. But that was not the end of trouble for Nilanjana. Before long, she realized that the rickshaw-puller was drunk. He stopped in the middle of a lonely road. It was high noon and nobody was to be found anywhere near. He was forcing her to pay him four hundred bucks or he would drop her off then and there. She was helpless and on the verge of crying, when she saw Santanu coming from a distance.
Nilanjana: “Hey! Hallo! Please help me out here”
Santanu: “The name is Santanu. What’s up?”
Nilanjana told him everything and he looked indifferent.
Santanu: “It is your call madam! Either pay or get down. The least I can do is to give you my company. Now decide!”
Nilanjana was not expecting this. Men always rescue women, they take the decision. Nilanjana couldn’t remember any instance of her taking a decision for herself. But though perplexing, this seemed somewhat fun to Nilanjana. She got down from the rickshaw and started walking. Santanu caught her up.
Santanu: “What happened?”
Nilanjana: “Nothing. I just won’t give him the money.”
Santanu: “‘
Nilanjana: “I’ll walk my way…”
Santanu: “How ’bout some tea?”
Nilanjana: “In that roadside shop? It’s so …” Words failed Nilanjana seeing Santanu’s mocking smile. “Ok, let’s go. I also want some tea.”
They entered the shop together. For Nilanjana, it was a first time experience. She felt awkward at the shabby and dirty tea stall. She was in no position to refuse because from heart of her hearts, she was enjoying herself. She felt, she actually liked Santanu’s company and was ready to follow him wherever he would take her. In fact, she felt like shouting and singing but something still held back her impulsiveness.
This time Nilanjana was the first to speak.
Nilanjana: “You know I never liked you when I saw you first, but …”
Santanu: “Me too! I rather hated you!”
Nilanjana: “Do you hate me still?”
Santanu handed the glass of tea to Nilanjana and asked “Biscuits?”
“No thanks” said Nilanjana as her face fell.
“Ah! Well…after that song.” Nilanjana looked up in anticipation. Santanu continued “It is hard to make up my mind. Let’s see… if we keep on meeting, I might even start liking you.”
Nilanjana: “I’ll be staying here with my sister and brother-in-law – for a few days.”
Santanu: “I’m here for a drama competition. You saw my group right? I’ll be staying back for
Nilanjana: “So we’ll meet?”
Santanu: “No…because you didn’t tell me your name!”
Nilanjana: “I’m Nilanjana”
That day they parted on that note. After that they kept meeting – at first by accident, then regularly till that afternoon. Santanu was declared the winner of the solo-drama segment. Nilanjana was there with him in the back stage.
Santanu whispered in Nilanjana’s ears “Do you remember you promised to award me if I win this?”
Something shivered inside Nilanjana. She said “I do”
Santanu became impatient “So, let’s go”
“But where?” Nilanjana was still shaky.
Santanu didn’t stop to answer. What Nilanjana remembered was that she flew away with Santanu, stealing away from everyone’s prying glances. She was still under the spell when she entered the hot, stuffy and messed up room of the cheap hotel where Santanu was staying. Santanu closed the door and wrapped Nilanjana in his arms. “Santanu” that was all Nilanjana could say as his lips locked on hers.
“Is that the award you were looking for?” asked Nilanjana after that overpowering kiss had abated.
“No…I want it all…every bit of you!” said Santanu.
Through the process, Santanu flattered her, adored her and pampered her. She loved even the pain. The two warm bodies in that humid afternoon opened up a new chapter in their lives.
Santanu got up from the bed as Nilanjana was still there. He brought out a piece of pink paper and wrote something on it. He handed it to Nilanjana.
“What is it?” She asked.
“Number…Telephone number of the Hostel where I stay” said Santanu
“But the colour of the paper is more important. Pink is the colour of freshness, joy, love and lovemaking. This piece of pink paper will always remind you of this wonderful afternoon…even if we never meet again.”
Nilanjana: “But we will. We both are here for 6 or 7 days more. I’ll meet you tomorrow, I promise”
But the promise wasn’t kept. A telegram was waiting for Nilanjana at her sister’s place. She was to come home immediately. She had to leave without having a word with Santanu.
When Nilanjana came back to Kolkata, all she had left with her of those days were memories and the piece of pink paper. As soon as she reached home, her dream train came to a halt. She now realized why she was called back so soon and why she was sent away to Bolpur. Her marriage was arranged and the engagement ceremony was in a week and wedding in two months. The whole house was decorated, guests were pouring in and she was home-interned the whole time. She could not talk to anyone but she knew one thing - she won’t give in. To her rescue came her friend Aditi. She poured her heart out to her. She could not marry anyone else, she belonged to Santanu. Aditi proved to be quite understanding and helpful. She suggested that Nilanjana should go through the engagement preparation quietly. Since Santanu was due in six more days, so Aditi said Nilanjana should run away from her house on the day of her engagement. By then, Santanu will be back. But time and again Aditi kept on asking
“Do you know he loves you really? Can he support you?
Do you trust him? Do you have full faith in him?”
Nilanjana could say nothing but “Yes”. Yes, she trusted him, more than she trusted anyone else. Yes, she believed in him more than she ever believed in herself. In Santanu’s own words: -
“I am the first one to discover you, I gave you life.”
Life, the reason to live that is, is what Santanu means to her.
On the night of the engagement, when the whole family was busy, Aditi planned her escape. Nilanjana packed a few things and some money. Aditi brought her car to the back door. Nilanjana sneaked out. Soon they were racing down the road.
Aditi: “Where are you meeting him?”
Nilanjana: “What?”
Aditi: “Where is Santanu?”
Nilanjana: “I haven’t called him up yet.”
Aditi: “What the …?”
Nilanjana: “I didn’t get a chance. I‘ll do it now. There is a booth on the other side of the road.”
Aditi: “Okay. I’m waiting for you in that Coffee Shop. Come quickly.”
Aditi drives away. Nilanjana hesitated before crossing the road.
“Hello! Hello!” shouted the harsh voice from the other side of the phone. With a start, Nilanjana came back to the present.
“Hello…Miss are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Did you find Santanu?”
“No one here knows Nilanjana. Now if you please put down the phone, people are waiting here.”
Nilanjana didn’t know what to think. Her world was falling apart. She walked aimlessly till she found herself in the middle of the road. Before she could do anything, a bright light flashed on her eyes and then there was just darkness.
Santanu and his friend are caught up in a jam. Some accident has happened down the road. It is a young girl, run over by a lorry. The police are having a hard time controlling the crowd and the press. Santanu decides to go down and check. His friend also agrees as it is better than getting all sweaty in the bus. As they reach the spot, the dead body is being removed to the ambulance. Suddenly something falls from the dead body’s hand. A piece of pink paper, washed out in rain. Santanu picks it up. Many a moment flashes in front of his eyes.
“Nilanjana?” murmurs Santanu, his voice drowning in the raging sound of the ambulance siren.
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