Sanyukta stared at the anklet that she had lost as a toddler, a twin of the one she had in her possession in Mumbai. Before her lay Madhabi's diaries filled with hand-jotted entries. She observed the neat, almost schoolgirl like handwriting of the woman whom she felt drawn to. Madhabi must have had beautiful penmanship. While she had never spoken out her thoughts she could express them almost lyrically on paper, with a bit of prose interspersed with a sprinkling of poetry. She had also copied selected poems of the legendary Rabindranath Tagore in between her own musings, almost as if she had been given a homework assignment by her teacher. 

"But Dadu, how can I? These are Dida's personal diaries. I am sure it is inappropriate for me to access them!" Sanyukta asked, feeling awkward.

"She would want you to read them and understand her, you above all others. Madhabi lived a repressed life due to my inadvertent neglect. The diaries were her best means to express her feelings and I would appreciate it if you honoured her memory by reading them. Sometimes I feel guilty for spending less time in this room, especially after Shaila came into my life. Maybe Madhabi would be less lonely if you let yourself into her world. And Sanyukta, since Randhir, Shaila and Aman have to join me on a trip to my office you can use the time to read these, unless you have other plans. I doubt if we'd be able to make it back for lunch. Maybe we'll order something at the office. Meanwhile I don't want you to be bored!" Nobin sighed. He wondered how long the couple would have to keep their true relationship under wraps. It would be odd to let Sanyukta come to the office because his staff knew she was not family.

"No worries, Dadu. I had planned on meeting my mother today but she is busy. And I'd much rather stay indoors and read the diaries than venture out. Hope you don't mind if I snap shots of a few pages in here!" She smiled as she handed back her anklet to Nobin.

"But this anklet belongs to you. You need not return it!" Nobin reminded her.

"I'll take it back from you when I become Mrs Randhir Singh Shekhawat officially. Until then I am sure Dida will continue to watch over my payal!" She responded.

"The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that Madhabi was right when she hoped to have you as Randhir's bride! May that day dawn upon us soon!" Nobin placed the silver anklet back in Madhabi's almirah and led Sanyukta back to her room.

"Wow, somebody is privileged enough to be allowed access to Dida's diaries. We were never encouraged to, and besides, we don't read Bangla, unlike you!" Randhir was referring to Vidushi's and his inability to read the language. Sanyukta looked visibly relaxed now that Renuka had left for Delhi with Harsh and Vidushi. Randhir was already dressed to go out. He kissed his wife softly on the lips and brought her outside the room where the others were waiting for him.

"We'll get something nice for Sanyu on our way back, won't we?" An excited Aman asked Shaila who nodded in agreement.

"Sorry we have to leave you behind Sanyukta! Just buzz us in case you need anything. We will be back as soon as we can!" Shaila looked apologetic as she stepped into the car with the others. She reflected upon the irony of how she, even in her sixties, had effortlessly assumed the role of Nobin's spouse while the twenty something Sanyukta was still waiting in the wings to come out as Randhir's lawfully wedded wife.

 As soon as the car left the driveway Sanyukta turned towards the corner of the house where the night jasmine had strewn its blossoms over the Madhabi's Krishna idol. Sanyukta had copied her and placed her own idol besides her potted night jasmine plant in her barsaati's garden. She folded her hands in prayer and bowed before Madhabi's Krishna. She did not need to word out her prayer, Madhabi's spirit already knew what Sanyukta longed for! She picked up a few flowers and arranged them before the idol. Then she took a solitary blossom on her palm and breathed in the fragrance deeply. 

Back in the house Sanyukta requested the kitchen staff to make her a simple lunch of moong dal khichuri. She would be eating alone as the others in the family were away in the city. The cook gave her some warm corn-on-the cob to snack on and she returned to her room to enjoy it. She took a satisfying bite and placed the cob aside as she picked up the first diary.

"My heart pounds whenever he is near! What if he finds out that I have been in love with him for so long? He'll probably laugh off my infatuation as childishness. I get tongue-tied and find myself unable to tell him how much I miss him when he travels for work. And how I envy the glib-talking girls that surround him wherever he goes! But they don't know how lucky I feel to be able to take care of him in those little wifely ways. How would they know that he casts off his British cutlery and digs in with his fingers to enjoy my crab curry and rice, and how he remembered my 21st birthday and gifted me the Chandbali earrings that I treasure so much?"

"After our babies were born I wanted to return home as soon as I could. I was miserable without him. And I always feared the worst. What if my nightmare came true? What if in my absence he left me to marry someone more sophisticated and compatible? My father and brother could not understand the reasons for my restlessness. After I returned to Kolkata I surveyed every corner of the house looking for clues. I found nothing out of place. But in a few weeks I realised that his distraction was not stashed around the house, it was at his workplace."

"I lived in denial of the rumours until they became impossible to deny. He was rarely home before midnight and though he remained courteous with me I could sense the distancing. I could smell the other woman's perfume on his body and alcohol on his breath. He tried to tell me he was letting me have as much rest as I could but I knew his desire had found vent in someone else's arms. Later he became obsessed about his business. Power and success were his drivers. He had little time for anything else, except maybe, the children. I had to accept that my life would never be the same again. I did what was best under the circumstances, I retreated into the antarmahal, the symbolic inner sanctum reserved for women in a traditional Bengali mansion."

Sanyukta felt moved. Madhabi came from a generation of women who blamed themselves rather than their husbands when things went wrong in the marriage, even if it was not their fault. No doubt a modern wife would also be devastated to discover her husband's affair but she would be more empowered and would quickly rearrange her life to suit herself best. Women like Madhabi turned inward and made peace with the situation rather than upset the apple cart, especially when there were children involved.

"My son responds to my parenting but Renuka is a different. She is her father's daughter and shares his ambition. She wants to grow up and manage the business with him. I know that the chasm between us will widen over time. She finds my silence unacceptable, she thinks it makes for a weak woman who will never achieve anything in life. She does not realise that for many people lives remain imperfect. To not accept this reality is to condemn oneself. My home and my children are my turf and I need nothing more, not even my husband's attention which he has gainfully invested outside the home." 

"My women in the family tell me I am living the life of a Vaishnav widow, disallowing myself any chance of happiness. Madhabi, your husband is living, yet you have taken to eating Niramish (frugal vegetarian) fare. Your salvation is not in dishes made from vegetable peels and kitchen scraps. Reclaim your privilege as a legitimate wife and command your husband's respect, they tell me! How would they understand that the heart stops craving life's pleasures when a marriage is dying for the want of the partner's nurturing?"

Sanyukta snapped the diary shut. It was depressing to read about the crests and troughs in Madhabi's lonely life. She knew that things would change through the pages of the diary. Redemption would come in the form of Nobin's return after Rosa's exit. True happiness would arrive on the wings of Randhir's entry in Madhabi's life. Sanyukta felt Madhabi's pain deeply but refused to shed tears. Like Nobin, she knew Madhabi's strength lay in her lack of expectation and her unconditional love for her husband and family. 

She had refused her brother's offer to leave her husband and remarry. It takes courage to persevere in life when one knows there may not be any light at the end of the tunnel. Sanyukta rose, went to the kitchen and helped herself to some khichuri and delicious begun bhaja. After her meal she would continue to look through the kaleidoscope that was Madhabi's world. There were precious lessons to be learnt from her experiences. Sanyukta hoped to draw strength from them to help enhance her own coping skills. She knew instinctively that she would have to face many challenges ahead. Who better than Madhabi to fall back upon? Their love for Randhir was the common thread that bound the two women even when they were generations apart and had never actually met.