Dr. Debashish Chowdhury successfully completed his internship at the govt hospital at Barasat and was posted at the Hridaypur Govt Hospital. Dr. Debashish, all of 26 years age, became the lone doctor at the village hospital. He took up residence near the hospital but away from the village centre. His house was in an isolated patch of the village surrounded by open fields of rice cultivation on one side and mix of palm, mango and jackfruit trees besides others creating a feel of forest. The narrow make-shift road from his house went straight to the hospital and then to the state highway. Dr. Debashish being an introvert, hasn’t made any friends, he prefers to read in his free time. A local boy named Sonu does errands as well as cook for him. The village turns sleepy by 8:30 pm with deserted roads. Urban bred Dr. Debashish initially did not like the place and wanted to leave but stayed back for the sake of his career. The regular load-shedding after sundown made his life difficult as he was not familiar with lighting a lantern, every evening, Sonu would light up two lanterns.

Like any other evening, after dinner Dr. Debashish was reading a medical journal when he heard someone calling, “Doctor Sahib. Doctor Sahib.” It was past 10 pm.

He wondered who’s at the door at that late hour as most of the villagers sleep by 8:30 pm, he took the torch and opened the door. A handsome middle-aged gentleman was standing by a vintage car in front of the gate, before he could ask, the gentleman spoke, “Sorry to bother you at this late hour but I need your help, my wife has suddenly fallen ill and there are no doctors other than you. I shall be grateful if you can come along with me. I promise to drop you back later.”

Dr. Debashish was looking at the gentleman, he seemed very familiar but Dr. Debashish couldn’t place him. He asked, “Where’s your wife?”

“She’s at home… about 5 km away from here.”

“Okay, I will go with you.” Dr. Debashish quickly changed clothes, locking the house, he got into the passenger seat next to the driver. The gentleman was already seated in the back.

“What was your name, you said?” asked Dr. Debashish as the car started moving.

“Sukanto Bhattacharya.”

Dr. Debashish stopped himself from asking any further personal question, he’s a doctor going to see a patient, there’s no need to get involved personally, he thought. They covered the distance in silence, the only sound being the friction noise of the tyre with the rough road and occasional howling of the dogs. The car stopped in front of a palatial house; the light bulbs are too feeble to light up the surrounding. “That’s our house”, declared Mr. Sukanto Bhattacharya.

Dr. Debashish got down from the car and looked up at the house, though the lights were too feeble, the moonlight was bright enough to see beyond the silhouette of the structure. He was shocked, the house looked very familiar to him, the high-rising pillars, the long corridors and veranda all looked as if he has seen them earlier. He asked, “What is the name of this place?”

“Jirapali.”

Dr. Debashish was certain that he had never been to this place, but why does the place feel so familiar as if he has spent time here in this house… he wondered with a bit of unease.

A handyman came with a lantern, Sukanto took it from him and invited Dr. Debashish, “Doctor, please come this way. Sorry for the inconvenience, the electricity is hardly available in the village and the voltage is too low to be of any use.”

“It’s okay, let’s check the patient immediately.”

They walked in silence through the long corridor to the staircase leading to the upper floors. Climbing the stairs, Dr. Debashish was again struck by the familiarity. He felt a cold wave run through his veins giving him goosebumps. The air was filled with some sort of fragrance, maybe of some flowers, he couldn’t place it. The whole house was in deathly silence, the only sound came from the footsteps as he followed Sukanto in to a large room.

A large bed with intricate design lay in the middle of the room; in the low light of the lantern, Dr. Debashish could see a frail figure on the bed under the thin white sheet. For a moment, the bed looked familiar to him but he shrugged off the feeling and went closer to the bed.

A very frail lady sleeping on her side facing away from Dr. Debashish. He spoke in a low voice, “Please turn around mother, I want to check you.”

The woman did not stir from her position or responded. Dr. Debashish repeated his request.

This time the woman stirred and garbled noise came out of her as she tried to turn.

“How are you feeling, mother? Where is it paining?” Dr. Debashish asked softly.

The woman turned to face him… Dr. Debashish saw a mist covered face looking at him lovingly. Before he could say anything, the room suddenly became dark, the lantern lights dimmed exceptionally low. He frantically called out, “Sukanto Sir, where are you? Show me the light.” His voice echoed through the room. The lights came on as suddenly as they had dimmed. He looked at his patient more closely… her eyes were sad and melancholy. The woman started crying, the loud cries reverberated through the entire house hitting the very core of Dr. Debashish. He felt something inside him pinch his heart with force. He was unable to control his emotion, involuntarily he was crying too. His head started spinning and he fell down, unconscious.

He woke up slowly at the calling of his name, opening his eyes slowly he found the villagers surrounding him… he recalled seeing a few of them at the hospital. He looked around, he was sitting on the floor of the corridor, layers of sandy mud greeting his body. He tried to remember the events of the night…a gentleman in a vintage car brought him here… “What’s this place?” he asked one of the villagers.

“Jirapali”

“Okay, now I remember clearly… A gentleman named Sukanto Bhattacharya brought me here in a car… to check his ailing wife.”

The villagers looked at each other in bewilderment. An elderly villager spoke eventually, “Sukanto Babu used to be the Panchayat Pradhan, his forefathers were the zamindar of this area. He passed away 18 years ago just 2 months after the passing away of his ailing wife. Those days, there were no hospitals and doctors here in the village, for medical treatment we had to go to the town Barasat.”

Dr. Debashish got up from the sandy floor and patted his body to clean the dirt… he was puzzled. He needed to go back to the hospital. A young boy gave him a ride back to the hospital. The day passed in daze… he kept thinking how he landed at the old zamindar house a few kilometres away from his quarters. Moreover, why the house, the people there looked familiar to him, he kept thinking all day.

Days turned into week, weeks tuned into month, life had returned to normal and boring for Dr. Debashish, he had almost forgotten about the zamindar house and the incident of that night. Signing off for the day, he decided to take a stroll through the village to get familiar with the surrounding and perhaps get to know the inhabitants. He was walking with gay abandon, passing few hutments where the women of the house were preparing dinner, delicious savoury smell wafted through the air. The surroundings became secluded with open fields on either side of the road, Dr. Debashish became conscious and wanted to turn around but some unknown force made him walk forward. Soon, he realized, he was standing in front of the old zamindar house. He could see many people silently moving around on the long corridor of the house. A car came to stop in front of the house from which Sukanto Bhattacharya alighted. He looked at Dr. Debashish and smiled waving at him.

“Doctor Sahib, what are you doing here?”

The call brought him to reality, he turned to find a young boy with his mother…they had visited him yesterday at the hospital.

“Where were you going, Doctor Sahib?” the lady asked.

A few other villagers also joined them. One of them asked, “What were you doing in this abandoned house at this late hours, Doctor Sahib?”

“I don’t know, I felt someone strongly pulled me here.”

“Sir, come with me, I will take you back to the hospital.”

“It’s okay, I will find my way back, thank you.”

The villagers ignored him and walked him back to the hospital. Alone at home, he thought, does he have a link to the house? Why does Sukanto Babu shows up like that? Why does he end up in front of that abandoned house? He was intrigued but the answers eluded him.

He had three holidays coming up and decided to visit his parents. In the morning as he was packing up, he got call from his mother, “Please come quickly, your father is very unwell and wants to see you urgently.”  

He reached home in the afternoon and found his father in a very bad shape. The cancer has reduced him to a skeleton. The physician inside him told him that his father may not survive the night. He sat down beside him holding his father’s hand, gently called, “Baba, I am here. How are you feeling?”

The old man opened his grey eyes and looking at Debashish, his eyes lit up momentarily as he tried speak, a garbled sound came through his trembling lips, “Son, son, you have come…. I…I…” the old man couldn’t finish as life slipped out of his body.

Once, the cremation and last rites were completed, Dr. Debashish decided to return to work. His mother came with a sealed envelope, “Your father left this envelope for you.”

He took the envelope and opened it, a handwritten letter came out…

“Dear Son,

When you get this letter, I would have left the mortal world. It is important that you must know the truth, otherwise my soul won’t rest in peace. We are not your biological parents. The woman, Savitri, you know as your mother had delivered three still-born babies before and I was mortally scared that another still-born baby would kill her. As fate would have, the fourth baby too was still-born. In desperation, I bribed the nurse to switch the baby with one born in the next bed. Both the mothers were unconscious and never came to know of the switch. However, I remained the culprit to your real mother. Hope she and your real father will forgive me.”

Dr. Debashish slowly folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. The visuals of the old lady crying and saying, “My son, come to me” flashed in front of him.

“What’s written in the letter?” his mother asked.

“Nothing of concern mother.” He hugged his mother tightly as his eyes welled up in tears.