It has been raining intermittently for the past two days, though it is not unusual for the month of August in Delhi. I invited my 4 friends, Gora, Topshe, Babua and Pulki with the motive of playing the card game of TwentyNine like we used to during our youthful days. Pulki called up to inform that he was in Purulia to meet some of his relatives and as such won’t be able to make it. Since it has been raining, the menu was simple, Khichudi and fries (papad, aloo bhaja, omlette and fish fries).
We played few rounds before lunch and afterwards as well till tea was served. As my friends were leaving, the sky opened up with torrential rain. It was impossible to step out. I suggested that they wait till the rain subsides. The weather had turned bleak with dark clouds engulfing the skies. It seemed like night but it was only few minutes past 5 O’clock. I spread out the cards once more.
“We have played a lot, let me tell you a real story appropriate for today’s climate.” Babua announced.
“We are all ears.” Gora spoke on behalf of others.
Babua began his story…
It happened long time ago, when I got promoted as Regional Manager for East Zone. I was touring the Bengal region and as per the itinerary, scheduled to visit Bolepur/ Shantiniketan with my medical representative, Sudhangshu. Let me tell you, the RM’s are not supposed to visit any doctor or clinic or hospital without their MR’s for pitching business. Sudhangshu was to meet me at the lodge, Aponghor, Bolepur in the morning around 9 am and take me along to meet few doctors in the area. I have worked with him earlier and knew him to be very punctual, so I was ready for him. But there was no sign of him as the clock ticked towards 10 am. I was restless and wondered what happened to him. I thought Sudhangshu probably has forgotten about our program and was visiting the doctors on his own. I knew the doctors we were to visit, so I called up the doctor, first on our list to check if he is there at his chamber. The answer was negative. I called up the other doctors and each of them said that Sudhangshu didn’t visit them as yet on that day. Now, I was worried, I had no idea how to contact him. I came down to the reception to check if they had received any telephone for me. It was negative.
I came out on the road, still hoping for Sudhangshu to appear. I was going to admonish him definitely. A rickshaw came and stopped inches from me. I was about to shout at the rickshaw puller when I saw Diptesh Guha, our District Manager of Burdwan alight from it, sweating profusely. He asked the rickshaw to wait and came to me.
“Sir, please come with me, Sudhangshu had met with an accident and admitted in the government hospital here.”
“When, what happened?”
“I don’t know the details; I got a call from Kolkata office in the morning. They said to contact you here and visit the hospital. I have spoken to his wife and she informed that tomorrow is their first marriage anniversary. Sudhangshu had planned to finish work here today and take the evening train to Kolkata. She’s in extreme distress and wanted to come but I told her to hold back for now.”
“Okay, let’s go and check on him.”
We reached the hospital and saw few people at the ward corridor discussing some issue very animatedly. I gathered a few fleeting words as we passed by them. One of them was asking, “How did he veered so much into the interior from the main road. He is not a villager but a city dweller.”
Sudhangshu was sleeping, the visible injuries looked minor, scratches on the face, on arms and on the forehead. Probably from the fall from the bike. Diptesh found the doctor and brought him along. I introduced myself and asked for the diagnosis.
“It’s an accident, the bike must have skidded in the slush. He fell and was probably dragged by the bike’s momentum. The injuries are not serious but the shock is the reason for the fever. I have given the medication and will observe him today. Will release him tomorrow.”
We spent some time with Sudhangshu at the hospital. Diptesh suggested that since the doctor’s visit is not happening, he can take me to Shantiniketan to see the Vishwa Bharati University and Tagore’s Ashram. And in the evening we can experience the scenic sunset at Khoyai. We had a hearty meal at a local “Pice Hotel” before going to Shantiniketan.
Diptesh had stayed back and after breakfast we went to the hospital. Sudhangshu had recovered overnight, the fever had subsided but was feeling weak with body ache. The doctor checked on him and released him with advice to take ample rest. We brought him back to the guesthouse. As we were checking him to a room, a woman in her 20’s came rushing and hugged Sudhangshu. Though none of us knew of his family, it became quite apparent that the woman was his wife. Sudhangshu, grimaced in pain as his wife hugged him tightly while crying. He introduced her, “This is my wife, Diya.”
“I believe, today is your first marriage anniversary, congratulations. I suggest, you rest for now, we will celebrate in the evening with a grand feast.”
In the evening, we all gathered in my room, being the largest with separate sitting arrangements, Sudhangshu had recovered fully though still walking with a slight limp. Diptesh had gone out and brought a cake and biriyani from the local market. I had requested the guesthouse to make mutton curry and rice pudding, appropriate for Bong celebration.
Once, everyone settled down comfortably, I asked Sudhangshu, “How are you feeling? Would you like to tell us what happened? Where did you go and how you reached the accident site?”
Sudhangshu thought for a while, composing the narrative in his mind, then spoke…
Well, my visit to Dr. Ashim Roy, in village Shantipur, about 30km from here was long overdue. It’s a remote village and not on our list. As I left his chamber, it started to rain, delaying me by an hour. I had taken a bike on hire from here, I usually do, and driving steadily on the rain-soaked road. The sky was getting darker with cloud formation as well as the setting sun. In the twilight of the evening, I saw this village woman, alone on the road with a load on her head. She was walking on the middle of the road; I slowed down and honked. She stopped and turned towards me, the headlight of the bike fell on her and I could see her clearly. She must have been in her early thirties with dark expressive eyes and mysterious smile on her lips, a lithesome figure that could envy the ramp models. I was mesmerized.
She spoke softly in the local dialect but I couldn’t understand. Realizing my confusion, she gestured if I can drop her to the village ahead. Normally, I don’t give a lift to strangers but I don’t know what spirit possessed me, I agreed. She hopped on the pillion and we started off. I asked her name, she replied, “My parents called me Roopmati, but my fiancé used to call me Rupashi.” I thought both the names are quite appropriate.
After driving a distance, she directed me to take a left turn on the makeshift village road. A voice in my head told me drop her there and continue to Bolepur while another voice spoke loudly, “How can you leave the woman in this lonely place? Go drop her to her village.” The louder voice won and I followed her direction. The road patchy with potholes and uneven levels, I kept the balance often putting my foot on the muddy surface. At one point, I felt very light and dizzy, almost dozing. I called out to her, “Are you okay?” The response came from few feet ahead instead of the rear, it shook me up. She said, “You are dozing off and driving so slow, I can reach home faster if I walk.”
“No, no, I will drop you to home, come back.” I was on drugs; I could smell an intoxicating fragrance of some wild flower when she was sitting on the pillion. I wanted to be with that woman as long as was possible. She sat again and we continued as she directed through the narrow passes of the villages and abandoned farms. I lost track of the turns we made when we reached a deserted village. She asked me to stop in front of a house that once stood firm but now looked haunted and abandoned with the thatched roof at most places gone creating a blackhole. The woman called Roopmati or Rupashi dropped the load on the porch and called out, “Saheb, you must be thirsty, let me offer you something nice that will ease your tiredness.”
She went inside the dark room and after some time came out with bowl, “Drink this, you will feel nice.” The liquid in the bowl was not clear but wheatish colour with bubbles forming around the wall of the bowl. It smelled a bit pungent and tasted as well. I drank the whole potion in one shot. I felt very light headed and happy.
Rupashi looked at me with intent and laughed loudly. The sound of her laughter echoed through the surrounding and hit me hard. My head started spinning and the temples throbbed with pain. She suddenly stopped laughing and said, “I am so happy, let’s dance” and without waiting for my response, she clapped thrice while making a weird sound from her mouth. It perhaps was a call to her friends because out of thin air five or six females in bright attires and two males carrying drums and some kind of flute materialized. They started singing and dancing to the beat of drum and sound of flute. I could not understand even one word of what they were singing but the rhythm made me wanting to dance with them. Rupashi came towards me and jerked me to stand… we started dancing going round and round on the porch. I forgot about the time and place, the wild flower fragrance had become very strong and I was breathing it in with every breath. It was euphoric.
Rupashi increased the speed in her movement, spinning us violently with rising beats of drums and clapping by her friends. I wanted her to stop as I struggled to keep up with her and my heart started pounding ready to explode. Suddenly, she let go of my hands and I flew out of the porch on to the muddy outfield. Just before I could get up, I saw Rupashi standing over me with a cleaver in her hand, raised high, ready to strike. She was saying…
“You, city dwellers are all the same, you come to the village to exploit the young girls. You take away their honours with a promise of marriage and good life. Once your lusts and desires are met, you forget about us. You throw us out like garbage.”
She stopped to breathe and the continued…
“Look at me, few years ago, I was a happy-go-lucky beautiful young girl of this village. There were suitors lining up every other day for my hand in marriage but I fell for an urban guy. He would visit the village every weekend to photograph the villagers and especially me. He took some very compromising pictures of mine professing love for me and wanting to marry me. I, like a fool, believed him and surrendered to his lusts. After that evening, he never came back. What did I get? An unborn child in my belly. I went to the city searching for him and found him too. He was happily married with a child. I confronted him. he coward under my threat of exposure and promised to come back to the village.”
She paused. Her temper somewhat in control now…
“He came one evening, took me to the hillside temple, there were two other persons, he said they are witnesses for our marriage. Again, I believed him not knowing that the bastard was going to snuff out two lives in one go. As I bent down to pay obeisance to the Goddess Kali, he put a rope around my neck while the other two guys incapacitate me by holding my hands and feet tightly. It was over in matter of minutes. They carried my body to the crematorium behind the temple and burned the body leaving no trace of my existence.”
She stopped, the fire in her eyes was back, her breathing was quick, she lifted the cleaver high and brought it down. With the last drop of strength, I rolled to the left and went down to the ditch. After that I don’t know what happened, I woke up in the hospital.
“I know how you reached the hospital.” Diptesh spoke.
I looked at Diptesh and asked, “How do you know?”
“You remember those guys at the hospital corridor when we visited Sudhangshu? They are the ones who brought him to the hospital. I spoke to them. They are resident of the neighbouring village and were passing by when they noticed the motorcycle lying on the mud. They looked for the rider realising the person must have met with an accident. They found him in the ditch, unconscious but breathing. They brought him to the hospital on a flatbed rickshaw while another person drove the bike.”
“So, was it an accident or what Sudhangshu says is true?” I asked.
“I don’t know but tell me why would Sudhangshu drive so deep into the village from the main road?” countered Diptesh.
I had no answer and nobody in the room could offer any logical reason.
Few days later, as I was packing up for my return to Delhi, Diptesh called, “Sir, as per your advice, I had met the villagers and offered our gratitude and money but they refused to take the money as they felt it was their duty to help another human being in distress. Interestingly, when I asked, the villagers said they knew of the woman named Roopmati aka Rupashi and she simply vanished one day leaving her grieving parents and two siblings.”
Gora went out to the balcony to check the weather. He came inside and said, “Rain has stopped but there’s a very strong fragrance of some wild flower in your balcony.”