DEDICATED TO: Vasu and Roopsie22 and Poushali_Haldar

"Nothing hurts more than the truth when it is brought to light, years after concealing it with lies and fake smiles."

-Elegiac_Damsel

______

23rd August

Third person's point of view:

Neruda in his poem, 'Keeping Quiet' describes an 'exotic moment' when all would be quiet and everything would be still. There would be silence; no one would speak. Violence and bloodshed would stop for a moment. No language need be spoken, the peace would suffice; the moment would be one such when killing would no longer persist and the world would seem unified in silent glory.

But when words fail to be voiced and emotions are left unexpressed, the silence that descends is strangely deafening! The inner voice inside one's head, the one reflecting your conscience seems to be screaming.

Rai's earth-shattering revelation had incited such a response from Mrinalini. She felt like she had been shot by bullets of shock, hurt, and betrayal. The initial elation and emotions that had greeted her when she had first begun reading the letter had been extinguished by the chilling spray of unfathomable reality.

Even now as her hoarse voice croaked out the words in an ode to seek her husband; the person who was closely acquainted with her, at one of the weakest points in her life, her seemingly quiet mind was screaming inside.

"Arghya? Where are you?"

"Mrinal? I am in Jadavpur. Do you need anything? What has happened?" Debarghya's voice came through the phone struggling to be heard, amidst the noise of honking cars and traffic

"I... When will you be home?" she asked, desperation apparent in her voice, her eyes welling up all over again

"Mrinal, give me a minute. I need to cross the road." 

Mrinalini sighed deeply, not disconnecting the call. She shifted the phone from her left ear, pressing it to her right ear, waiting for him to continue speaking. Her disturbed self yearned to hear his familiar voice, seeking some comfort.

The only sound that greeted her from the other end was the sound of bus conductors screaming out to passengers and the incoherent voice of a traffic constable or two who were trying in vain, to maintain order.

Finally, a minute later, Debarghya's voice spoke up, "Mrinal? Are you there?"

"I am."

"I am sorry, Mrinal. The pedestrian's signal had just turned green and I had to cross the road... The bus was about to leave. What were you saying?"

Mrinalini made a clicking noise, in annoyance. Her patience ran thin and the pain pierced her further as it demanded to be felt.

"When will you be home?" she asked, holding her breath, hoping in her mind that he would be early

"It would take me time. I am headed to Tollygunge at the moment. Is there an emergency Mrinal? Has anything happened?" his voice was laced with concern

"No, I am okay. Nothing has happened. Nothing is wrong. Is it urgent work?" she asked, trying her best to be composed and strong

"It is a bit urgent, Mrinal. My senior manager would be there too. We need to meet a doctor at M.R. Bangur. I will take the metro back home right after I am done. Will that be okay?"

Mrinalini nodded, even though she knew he wasn't there to see her nodding. She squeezed her eyes shut before inhaling sharply and replying, "Yes. That would be okay. Please be safe on the road and while travelling."

The next words, 'I don't want to lose you' were left unsaid as they died down in her throat.

"I will," he promised, his words causing a sigh of relief to escape Mrinalini's lips as she disconnected the call and proceeded to clean up the messy puddle on the floor that had formed due to her bedraggled sari.

...

The sun was about to set.

 Mrinalini had been preoccupied with everything that her life had spilt out to her. The chore of bringing back the dry clothes from the terrace had utterly slipped out of her mind. 

Picking herself up from the bed with difficulty, she proceeded to ascend the steps to the terrace. Each step that she took caused weariness and exhaustion to her already tired out self. She was relieved to see an empty terrace, devoid of neighbours. She wouldn't have been able to manage a fake smile in reply to their polite greetings. She couldn't tell the world that she was well and happy when she wasn't.

Being greeted by drenched clothes simply added to her misery and irritation. It must have rained sometime in the afternoon, but she had been drowning in a swirl of emotions, being sucked in by a ruthless whirlpool that had kept her from salvaging the clothes.  She would have to wash them all over again! 

For a minute, she felt like fate was playing games with her. Dismayed by the extra chore that she had now been assigned, she felt snappy and agitated.

She took a moment to leave the clothes and all her chores, walking to the ledge of the terrace taking careful steps, cautious enough to not lose balance and fall. She paused, placing her palms against the ledge, and inhaled deeply. 

She looked up and down the avenue, her eyes searching for the young girls and boys who would play cricket, hopscotch, or blind man's buff. There was no one that day. The avenue was deserted save for an occasional sari-clad woman who waded her way through the ankle-deep water. The cool moisture heavy wind which caressed her face did little to calm her disturbed mind, but it did give her momentary relief and peace. 

The dreary sky stared back at her as she looked up at the flock of birds flying away into the twilight sky which appeared infinite; like it had no end. Her hollow eyes and disquieted mind witnessed their flight, wishing silently for something to lift off the heavyweight of her thoughts and the truth; wishing in reticence for all the trouble to spread its wings and fly away...

Leaving her in peace.

...

An hour later, Mrinalini was juggling vessels in the kitchen. 

Anumegha had returned home 5 minutes ago and she had requested her sister-in-law for a cup of tea that Mrinalini was now pouring out for her. She had inflicted a cut on her little finger while chopping vegetables, courtesy of her distracted mind. It had taken a lot of effort and forced focus to get the proportions of tea leaves, milk, and water right. 

Each time a doorbell rang, she hoped it would be her husband. She had tried her level best to hide her pale face and red eyes from Anumegha and Debjani to evade deplorable questions, but she wanted to vent out. She wanted someone to wipe her tears, to listen to all the thoughts that were yet to be voiced. She was yearning to share everything with him. She wanted him to listen to her questions and answer them.

Her hands were filled with the dough when the doorbell rang at around 8.30. Washing off the excess dough from her hands, she wiped the water with the free end of her sari, rushing towards the front door hoping it was Debarghya.

She unlatched the door and turned the knob, opening the door for her husband. 

His tie was loosened and the collar had been unbuttoned. His messenger bag hung on his left shoulder and his hair was messy. It took Mrinalini a few moments to realize that his shirt was practically clinging to his body, due to wetness and that the raindrops had mixed with beads of perspiration adding to the exhausted and fatigued look on his face. He was bedraggled.

Although she wanted nothing less than breaking down at that instant, she was quick to realize that it was not the right time. Moving to her side to give him space to enter, she looked at him with a questioning gaze.

"You didn't carry an umbrella? I'll fetch you a towel. Just wait a minute."

Debarghya shook his head, "No need. I am heading to the bathroom directly to freshen up, anyway. Can you please get me some water?"

Mrinalini nodded and rushed to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. She remembered to take her sister-in-law's cup of tea in her other hand before walking out. She set down the cup on the centre table in the living room before walking towards their bedroom. 

The door was ajar. 

She walked inside the room, holding the glass for Debarghya to take. 

"Why did you not carry an umbrella? I had kept it near the door so you don't forget, yet you did!" she began

Taking the glass from her, he smiled, "I left it on the shoe rack when I was wearing my shoes. I will be careful next time."

"I left the milk on the stove for heating!" she exclaimed all of a sudden in realization, abruptly turning and taking to her heels

...

It was 11 by the time everyone was done with their dinner. Mrinalini had excused herself, finding it impossible to push any food down her throat. She had retired to her room early oblivious to the scenario that had unfolded at the dining table.

Debarghya had choked violently on taking a spoonful of the extremely salty, slightly overcooked lentils while Anumegha had made faces at the bland ridge gourd curry which had chilli, potatoes, turmeric, and poppy seeds, but lacked salt. The rotis however had been rolled perfectly and were warm and soft in texture and taste. It was funny how three different dishes made on the same day seemed so utterly different; one perfect and two imperfect.

"Didn't Boudi's uncle say that she knows how to cook?" Anumegha asked rhetorically

"She knows how to cook. She must have added salt twice in the lentils instead of the curry." Debjani justified, "The other spices seemed to have been added almost in the right amount."

Debarghya was silent. He was still recovering from the coughing fit. 

In the end, to dissuade Abumegha and Debjani from further discussing Mrinalini and her culinary skills, and also to finish their meal peacefully, they unanimously decided to mix the dissimilar lentils and the curry to balance the sapidity.

The mother and daughter duo retired to their room soon after and Debarghya followed suit after switching off the lights outside. 

The bedroom door was unbolted. He entered the room and shut the door, latching it. 

 The lights in the room were on. The window was open letting in the furious breeze and sprays of rainwater. The wind chime was swaying due to the zephyrs of wind creating a soothing peal at short intervals. 

Mrinalini was sitting on the bed silently. She seemed lost in her thoughts. There was an introspective, bemused look on her face. Her legs had been pulled up, her knees to her chest, her hands around them, her head against the headrest of the bed. Her breath was even, occasionally escaping as a prolonged sigh. Her face appeared pale, colourless. Her eyes sank into the hollow sockets, giving her an ill look.

Debarghya did not approach her or ask her anything. Knowing Mrinalini's nature, he was sure that she would be annoyed if he stepped near the bed without changing into fresh clothes first. He headed straight to the washroom to freshen up and change. It was only after he returned did he bother to go near her, taking his place next to her on the bed.

"Why didn't you want to eat?" he asked her, bringing her out of her reverie

Mrinalini shifted slightly before replying, "I wasn't hungry."

He sighed, placing his hand on hers, with some initial hesitation, "Did you feel better after receiving your mother's letter, Mrinal? You were so upset in the morning...." 

She shook her head vigorously, her resolve breaking down at the mention of the disastrous letter. She clasped his hand in hers, her grip tightening around him as tears made their way down her cheeks. 

Debarghya was flabbergasted at her response and reaction. Handing her the letter in the morning, he had been sure that it would uplift her dampened spirit, but this had been unanticipated. He freed his hand from Mrinalini's grip gently, his free arm going around her simultaneously.

Mrinalini shifted closer, welcoming his embrace. Her arm went around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder, her body shaking with the intensity of her sobs. Clueless and helpless, Debarghya simply watched her vent out and rubbed her back tenderly, wordlessly.

A while later, when her sobs had reduced to sniffs and silent tears, he asked her softly, "Are you feeling homesick, Mrinal?"

"It is no longer...ger home... It ne...ver was. It was a shel...ter." she choked out hoarsely, her words escaping her lips impulsively as she pulled herself out of Debarghya's embrace

"What are your views on rape?" she asked him out of nowhere

He was caught unaware, slightly taken aback at her mood swings and query. 

"What is wrong with you, Mrinal? You have been behaving so strangely since morning! Even when you called in the evening...." 

"Just answer me! Please...." she spoke out, her voice reducing to a pleading whisper

"Well, I..." he began, unsure, "It is a crime. No one ever has the right to force anything upon anyone. No man, woman, or child ought to undergo such trauma and agony. But Mrinal, why would you ask me this?"

Mrinalini looked up at him, posing her next question, "Is it the victim's fault? Is it just the rap-ist? Who.... is at.... fault, Arghya? I... don't know.... who... I..."

Her voice trailed off as he leaned closer to her, keeping his hands on her shoulders, asking her quietly, "What is wrong Mrinal? Did someone....?"

His gaze bore into her bleary-eyed stare as she spoke out quietly, "The victim or the rapist?"

"It is the rapist. Rape is different from normal sexual encounters or intercourse based on one factor i.e., consent. No one can ever have the right to force a man, a woman, or a child into anything. The victim is not at fault. Period."

"What would you say to me then?" she blurted out all of a sudden

"What would I say? What do you want me to say? I... What are you talking about....." Debarghya started only to be cut off mid-sentence as she continued, "The daughter of a wid-ow. The offspring of a ra-pe vic-tim. What would you say to the woman who sleeps next to you on the same bed; the woman rais-ed by a rap-ist! A girl who pla-yed in his arms. He pai-d for my edu-cation. He... I... Ma...." 

Mrinalini's voice trailed off. A lump in her throat refraining her from speaking any further. She felt asphyxiated at her thoughts. Her breathing accelerated and she blocked her ears with her palms to escape the thumping noise that her beating heart was producing. 

"Mrinal! Mrinal!" Debarghya tried in vain to snap her out of whatever fit she was in 

He shook her slightly and after multiple failed attempts, she responded by crashing against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her head buried at the crook of his neck, her hair brushing against his chin. Her tears were falling freely wetting the front of his sweatshirt. A few teardrops rolled down her cheeks and down on his hand which held her in place as she cried quietly.

"Where did you keep the letter, Mrinal?" Debarghya asked her after a few moments. Although he had comprehended her words, he needed a clear layout of the situation at hand.

"I... It was on the.... bed-side table." 

Keeping a steady hand around Mrinalini, Debarghya reached out to pick up the thumbed, crumpled letter that was lying on the bedside table. He read it at a glance, deciphering the contents that had driven Mrinalini to such a state. 

"Mrinal?" he began, his voice soft and gentle, "I have nothing to tell you about this. I honestly don't know how to react myself."

"Ma was... He did that to her. He is the same man who... who married me to you. He gave my hand in yours during the wedding, as Baba would have, but he... Baba wouldn't do this to Ma. Would he? You know Ma never wore any makeup. She always wore saris with conservative elbow-length blouses. She never did anything... Why did it happen to her? Why did he do that to her? Why?"

Debarghya cupped her face in his palm, raising her face so she could look at him.

"Why are you talking like an old, orthodox, narrow-minded hag? Since when do you believe that clothing... Mrinal, you should know that women in the olden days would veil themselves in front of other men. They never stepped out of home, because people thought that is how women must be protected. It was never a man's fault for lusting after a woman. It was always the woman who was labelled a whore. Incestuous rape and abuse have always been there in our society, Mrinal. No one has cared for women. You veil yourself and people judge you calling you shy and conservative, but a veil can hide so much! You don't know if it is concealing a bruised and abused face. Wearing skimpy clothes doesn't permit anyone to take advantage of you. A woman who stays sheltered within the four walls of a household isn't necessarily safe. She may be protected from the evils outside, but you cannot tackle a nefarious snake that resides with you. Your mother was a victim, Mrinal. It wasn't her fault."

Mrinalini's eyes though devoid of tears now appeared sunken and lifeless. Her chapped and dry lips parted as her stertorous voice gave volume to her thoughts, "Why did she remain there? For me? Why did she suffer silently, for me? She would have spoken up right, had I not been there?"

"So this is what you are so disturbed about!" he exclaimed, getting the root of her pain now. Shaking his head he replied, "I don't think she would have Mrinal. There were barely any laws in favour of a rape victim till the Criminal Law (Amendment) Ordinance in 2013. Even had your mother spoken up, she would have probably suffered through a worse ordeal. She has told you about it in the letter. As I said, women have been suffering at home for centuries now, but the only solace they found later was silence. You have grown up in different times. You are seeing the gradual change in the society now, two decades ago, the scenario had been different."

"Why didn't she run away with me?" she asked again, her nose red and her eyelids drooping.

Debarghya gulped at her pitiful state. He stood up immediately and went off to fetch her some water.

"Sip. Sip slowly. I don't want you to be dehydrated," he told her, handing her a glass of water that she accepted with a trembling hand.

She sipped once. She sipped twice and she spluttered as the water entered her nostrils. 

Debarghya rubbed her back and asked her to look up at the ceiling. It took her time to stabilize herself after which she asked him again, like a broken record, "Why didn't Ma run away with me?"

In reply, he simply slipped into bed next to her and laid down, holding her close to himself, caressing her hair. His hand removed the rubber band which held her plait and proceeded to unbraid the long, black strands. He ran his hand through the length of her hair, pausing once or twice to run his fingers on her scalp, in a mollifying fashion. 

Mrinalini rested her head on his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat regulating her pulse as the throbbing in her head minimized due to his soothing action. His scent of Cinthol soap, sweat, and mild talcum powder calmed her senses.  

"You asked me a question that I practically have no answer to, Mrinal. Your mother has already answered this for you. She could have walked out with you, but where could the two of you go? You were a toddler then! Both of you are affected and reeling from your father's demise. Your mother was grieving when all that happened. Had she walked out that day, your future would have simply been dark, uncertain, and bleak. Think rationally once. She had no other relatives on her side of the family. She was a rape victim, a widow, and a young mother. She was educated just till the 12th grade. The world outside is vicious. A young woman wondering hither tither with a young child in tow, a girl no less, it could have been much worse Mrinal."

Debarghya kissed the top of her head; a quick peck, a momentary touch, a gentle brush of his lips, which was deep and passionate in its own right.

"There was the question of a job. She would need to work to keep you and herself alive. Anything could have happened, Mrinal. Seeing a defenceless, inexperienced, bereaved woman, anyone could have conned her. Several women are cheated and kidnapped, forced into prostitution and their children are sold. Child trafficking, drug transporting, being forced to become a prostitute in some brothel; anything could have happened with her, with you. She had already lost her husband. She didn't want to lose you too."

Mrinalini nodded. Her mind seemed empty now. The fatigue was just settling in. She sighed deeply, releasing herself from his hold and sitting up in bed. Her head seemed heavier than what she could remember. Her throat was parched, begging for water. Everything seemed hazy to her eyes. 

"Drink some water and go to sleep Mrinal. You need some rest," he told her quietly, sitting up next to her.

She sipped the water, her parched throat welcoming the moisture. 

"I have a headache," she spoke out, her voice no longer sounding as hoarse.

"I am not giving you any analgesics on an empty stomach," he told her sternly. "You can apply some balm if it is that bad."

Nodding gratefully, her lips stretched into a weak smile. The first genuine smile that had graced her features since late evening.

 She laid down on the bed, dabbing her forehead with the free end of her sari. She felt too exhausted to get up and change into nightclothes. She applied the balm that he got for her from the medicine cabinet. Her fingers massaged her pulsating temple. Her body was lax and limp against the mattress.

Her eyes were squeezed shut when she felt the mattress dip, beside her. The bedside lamp was switched off and darkness descended on the room, befitting the darkness behind her closed eyelids.

She shifted slightly, adjusting the duvet on her body according to her convenience. Even with closed eyes, she could sense Debarghya sighing and tossing in bed, his hand throwing the duvet aside. She smiled slightly and turned to face him.

"Are you listening?" her low voice spoke up, interrupting the serene quiescence.

Hearing a soft hum in reply, Mrinalini found herself stating quietly, "I know you feel hot at night."

And then, letting go of the inhibition and reluctance, she continued, "If you want, you can take off your sweatshirt."

Debarghya opened his eyes and looked at her straight, the white part of his eyes contrasting the black of the room, making it easier for Mrinalini to figure out his features in the dark. 

"Are you sure it's okay?" he asked her, rubbing his nape.

Mrinalini nodded. He murmured a small 'Thank you' and removed his sweatshirt, tossing it aside, baring his torso. 

"Good night," she spoke into the void.

"Good night, Mrinal. I'll take a leave tomorrow."

"Your work? Your monthly sales target?" she questioned tentatively.

"It's fine. This month has been dealt with. A day would be good for some rest and maybe we could talk, spend some time together and unwrap the wedding gifts?" he replied, his tone reassuring, calm and playful.

Mrinalini smiled, a sudden shyness overwhelming her senses as she reminisced the patient way with which he had dealt with her; the way that he had answered all her queries and calmed her. It seemed too good to be true, but then perhaps this was what marriage is all about. He had her back today. He had been there for her. In the future, there could be circumstances that would need her to be strong and imperturbable. 

The future ahead was as dark and imperceivable as their room, but the gentle toll of the wind chime proclaimed to the quiet night, that although it seemed distant, the future wasn't as far as it seemed to the naked eye.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 7th July 2020

Author's note:

Hello everyone.

My apologies yet again for the unforgivable delay. 
My sincere apologies if you have been disappointed with the chapter. I will strive to improve myself. Promise.

I hope you are well and safe. Take care of yourselves and your families.

Do take a moment to pray for all of us in the world who have been battling the current catastrophic situation at hand. 

My best wishes and gratitude to all frontline warriors and the Bravehearts of our nation.

I hope we all conquer this soon. 

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PRAY FOR STUDENTS LIKE ME WHO HAVE BEEN FACING CANCELLATION AND POSTPONEMENT OF EXAMINATIONS. Please do pray for us, for our anticipated results, and for the sake of all the hard work and dedication that we had put in as seeds to reap the crops of success and fulfilment of dreams.

Here's to better days ahead.

With love and best wishes,

Shubhadittya

P.S. Please do VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE if you feel Mrinalini and I are deserving enough.