Often she would imagine herself sitting all alone on a low cliff by the seashore watching the mysterious waves crash against the steadfast rocks. She secretly relished this solitude for it was her way of alienating herself from thoughts of the trouble-torn family she came from. This moment too, she was taking solace in her imaginings when the phone rang. She swallowed the gulp in her throat, cleared its hoarseness and answered Hari’s call.
“Have you been crying?” enquired his voice.
“Umm…no…nothing, it’s just a cough” Nupur murmured.
And then after a brief conversation as, always, she found herself back into the world and the dark clouds begin to chase off. Well, she has found her ultimate soul mate and talking to him relieves her of all loneliness.
It was always this loneliness that she had been fighting against since her childhood. For hers was a childhood secluded and fearful. The dread of a father who always ran his family at his command and dominated their mother took away all peace. “Hush!! Father is coming” Nupur would whisper with panic to her elder sister Pinaki in the evenings when he returned from the office. She remembers how her father berated her mother for not earning any income. She herself had never asked her father for anything except the monthly school fees. The toughest job for her was to approach her father each month. “Father, can you please give me some money. I need to pay the fees tomorrow” she would at the end implore anxiously after much hesitation.
As she grew up, she surprisingly became independent. Perhaps having to live with a meager allowance and spend a lonely childhood, she began to do her things on her own including household chores and shopping tit-bits for the kitchen. Looking back, Nupur realizes that she has come a long way – from being a shy awkward girl at school to one confident lady teaching at a school.
She was now quite happily wedded to Hari for two years. Being passionate about her work, she has also engaged herself in a research project. People often ask Nupur: “How many years are you married? What about your issue?” Some questions which are an intrusion into one’s privacy are better left unanswered. For theirs was a late marriage and Nupur counts on God’s grace to bless her. She doesn’t want to be pressurized by society to dictate her the terms of her life for instance to have a child or not. In fact, she doesn’t bother about the social gaze.
Recently, they have moved to a new rented house. The month of phagun has arrived with the gusts of wind lashing the bamboo trees adjacent to their apartment. From her childhood, Nupur used to fear the tall, dense and dark bamboo trees. She had heard that ghosts resided in them and it is therefore fearful to walk below a bamboo bush. But interestingly, from the new apartment in the first floor, she could now see the bamboos in a new light. What looked fearful from below is rather pleasing atop here, for it is another world sheltering a myriad array of birds. A host of winged companions would perch on its branches and call out — from the placid doves, the ever-cawing crows, the friendly mynas to the loud white-breasted waterhens singing out a chorus now and then and many more. The nights are no longer fearful for even then some pretty little avian would chirp melodiously in company. Nupur is no more lonesome even though her husband is often out of station for months.
There was also another family living beside their apartment. Nupur was too busy with her work. Yet, lest people find her too proud, she now and then took time out to chat with her landlady and also to the family nearby consisting of a husband and wife along with their five- year-old son and a five-month-old baby. The wife, Joya was quite chirpy and one spreading a smile wherever she went, the husband though a bit reserved. Theirs seemed to be a perfect happy family with good job, money and children. Often times, Nupur would feel a void seeing Joya, but Nupur is large-hearted enough like the overarching bamboo trees near her window. Without a speck of jealousy, she would secretly wish: “May their happiness last forever!”
Two months glided by. The rains sometimes lashed against the bamboo grove drenching its leaves and Nupur’s feathery friends roosted quietly. Amidst the bustle of daily life, Nupur quite unexpectedly got to hear a loud domineering voice. She, of course, could understand nothing for it was spoken in another dialect. Soon she realized it was from the wall opposite. From the high pitch of the male voice and a trailing female voice answering back as if the accusations, Nupur could fathom that it was the familiar old tussle between the husband and wife. But she wondered: “What could be the cause of this daily quarrel?” She began to conjecture various possibilities. Nupur did not have to think over it much. Very soon, Joya herself feeling a bit embarrassed over the loud scenes being created at her apartment, began to bring the topic as if to offer an explanation for her husband’s loud behavior. Joya built up stories what looked like escape routes:
“Nikhil often has to work late at office so that he loses his night’s sleep…er…that’s why he becomes irritating sometimes.”
And at the same time her face showed concern: “I feel rather bad for him. He works so hard for the three of us. But he hardly gets to sleep and eat properly.”
Well, that shut all doubts for Nupur. “After all, all husbands and wives need some excitement out of marriage. If there had been no quarrels, the fun would be lost” she mused.
The month of bohag was on its way. Nupur was eager to listen to the cuckoo’s trill. “Hope she lands in one of these bamboo boughs so that I can get a closer view”, she hoped since the cuckoo is often hidden from the crowd. One sunday, Nupur took time out to visit Joya’s room. She cuddled Joya’s baby and tried to fathom the softness of a child held in a mother’s embrace. She wished she had a baby too, imagining how time would pass nursing her own child. She could cuddle it all day long and do what not. Joya then began her usual prattle: “Baideu, I wish I was like you. You’ve carved out such a nice figure. Look at me, how plump have I become after motherhood!” Nupur as always began to sense that Joya’s praise for her was all made-up. In fact, this shower of praise was an attempt to fill or make up Nupur’s lack. Joya would sing eulogies of how beautiful Nupur looked or how smooth her complexion was. How vainly she was trying to lift Nupur’s mind! For Nupur could see through her tactics. But unlike other days, Joya that day looked bereft of her usual cheeriness. Probably she had a bit of a tussle with her husband that day, thought Nupur. Like a speeding train, Joya went on chattering about her daily chores of having to feed her babies, look after the studies of her elder son and moving on to talk about her husband. During her rambling, she gave vent to her innermost feelings: “Baideu, I am confiding this only to you. Had I been a salaried woman, I would never have got married, forget about bearing children.” Though a bit taken aback initially, Nupur thought this too might be a confession meant to assuage her lack. Nupur suprressed a smile. She sometimes could not help laughing at Joya, thinking how childish she behaved at times. Why not? After all Joya was only 28 and much younger to her.
Nupur could now sense that Joya liked her too much. She might have found in Nupur’s quiet ways, a sympathetic and compassionate ear to pour her heart out. Quite shockingly, another day Joya expressed her utmost fear: “You cannot trust man. They might be swayed and who knows might marry another woman?” Before Nupur could ask why she thought that way, Joya’s face turned grave as she reminisced what happened to one of her sisters: “My sister was happily married. She was quiet like you and trusted her husband too much. But see how unfortunate she is, he brought another woman!” She added other apprehensions: “I have known and seen men… Once they get a high-paid job, they become impulsive and are led astray. As is the case with my sister. That’s why I do not allow my husband to appear for any further exam to qualify for such high paying jobs. Well, I think what we now have is sufficient.” Nupur now could read Joya’s fears as she continued: “You know baideu, I have given birth to these two children so that my husband doesn’t transgress. At least, before embarking on any illicit affair, he shall think twice of the children.” Nupur could feel for the young girl’s deep-seated fear of losing her husband. She apparently dismissed Joya’s apprehensions: “Oh, Joya! Don’t be so anxious. Such things are never going to happen.”
But within, Nupur was too astounded by these revelations. She now realized how vulnerable and weak the girl was from inside. Did she lose all faith in her husband? Didn’t she possess the least bit of confidence in her own self and identity so much that she could imagine herself being forsaken by her better half? Nupur now remembered Joya saying that her husband had even asked her to take up a job. So, is it possible that Joya’s husband might leave her someday if he met some qualified and salaried woman and marry her for the sake of money? Nupur couldn’t imagine the gentle man doing such an act. But then again why was Joya writhing under this hidden anxiety. Perhaps because she was just a housewife and financially dependent upon her husband. Perhaps all her unpaid work including cooking, cleaning and rearing up her children did not count as worthy for others not even for her soulmate.
Earlier that day Nupur had a phone conversation with her mother. Her mother’s health was deteriorating. That night as Nupur switched off the lights and made her way to the bed, she felt a sudden painful jab when she thought of her mother. She knew she wasn’t going to have a good night’s sleep that night. Is her mother’s life going to pass as always in sufferance because of the domineering and eccentric ways of her father. Why doesn’t she leave him and live on her own? No, she can’t! How could she? … Nupur as always knew that her mother was attuned to her plight. She felt as if her mother belonged to another world and her life was different. The woman was helpless: “Had I got a job like you do, I would have left long ago. But I had to think of bringing you two up and therefore had no alternative but to put up with his oppressive ways.” Well, this was what Nupur’s mother had to say, each time her daughter reproached her for living the life of a victim. Nupur now felt a likeness in the situation of her mother and that of Joya. “So is money the criteria of a successful marital relationship?” she pondered. All of a sudden, Nupur’s face contorted with agony and self doubt: “Had I been a housewife, would I have been less worthy?” The familiar bamboo tree suddenly looked fearful as clouds began to gather in the distant sky bringing in the tide of an approaching storm. The birds became restless and screeched as if on alert. But, Nupur’s mind began to reel in a different storm altogether…
