Introduction:
MY SCRAPBOOK
Swara
I landed in Kolkata, the city of joy. Feeling the air blowing across my face and some unknown feeling occupying my stomach, I looked out through the window.
As I walked down to reach a taxi and got into it, the route seemed long maybe because it had been a while I left Kolkata. I didn’t know whether it was just an imagination or it actually did!
I missed the air of this town, the smell of the land. Kolkata, the capital of the East Indian state of West Bengal is seen as the land of the intellectuals. It is also famous as the Land of Mother Teresa and Rabindra Nath Tagore. Communist in ideology and very politically aware, Kolkata was the capital of British India before Delhi assumed this position.
The city symbolizes creativity and vibrancy with all the modern amenities available. Kolkata has adapted to the modern trends and techniques of the world but has not shed the leisurely life style and the calm of it’s hey days. The Hooghly River flowing majestically through the blazing city, adding glint to it.
I have always been passionate about my city, I wasn’t a history student but it was a hobby. I loved such stuffs! I remember my college days when I used to be a guide for tourists. Memories are always special. Sometimes we laugh by remembering the days we cried and we cry by remembering the days we laughed! That’s Life!!..
As I passed through The Gariahat Road, one of the busy roads of Kolkata, the handicraft items attracted me and I stepped out of the car to take a look at them. The most memorable moments in life are the ones we never took the time to plan. Our paths may change as life goes along, but the bond between us remains ever strong… I got into the car again after a little sight seeing.
Crossing myriad roads, I went back to the days of past! Playing hide and seek with the children in my locality , our stifled giggles would echo through the lanes. Hidden behind the white ambassador, too engrossed in the game, my childhood brain couldn’t register the transiency of moments. Sandcastles and stories of princesses locked in there were a daily affair. And on Holi, the last bucket of water would always grace my head. I was the younger of the lot, of course there was Rhea but she was the youngest, only two years! We had funny names for everyone.
Everyday I would get down from the school bus and my grandfather’s wrinkled face would greet me at the gate. And those delicacies prepared by grandma would excel the signature dishes of the chefs : chicken sizzlers cannot contest the buttered ‘roti’ rolled with sugar. And now every time I have a row with someone, I would long for them to hear the complaints.
The myriads of best friends and friends I had back in school are lost in the maze of life except a few occasional texts in the social media. The chatter over the tiffin or the quietness of the library or the chaos in the back seats of the school bus are chapters of the scrapbook framed from the parting letters during Farewell.
The lady whose home I visited for the fascination of the chickens she had in her backyard, the teacher who taught me in my nurseries and bought me a box of colour pencils, the uncle at the street side stall who made lip smacking ‘chaats’, Ragini Di who played with me when everyone was too busy in the household chores are the blurred pictures in the collage.
Life is an ocean and every wave brings in experiences. And then they leave behind the glittering sand in the folds of our jeans. Memories stuck in the present. Some of them refuse to wash away. Some I hold on to in my clenched hands. And some just lay there; forgotten pieces of the puzzle.
Lost in the memories I didn’t know when I reached home. The driver helped me with the luggage as I went in with them. The house was so well decorated that it was hard to recognize whether it was the same house I was brought up in or someone else’s!!..
“Di”I excitedly call for Ragini Di as I ran into her room dropping my luggage on the hallway.
“Shona!” Di smiled at me as I hugged her happily.
“Oh my God! You are getting married! I can’t believe it. Tell me all about him. What all did he say when he came to meet you? Is he hot?” I asked her teasingly as I nudged Di. I did little know about my jiju, he was a businessman and nothing more than that. Di had promised only if I come to attend her marriage will she tell me about him.
“He is so hot! So dreamy..!” Di giggles happily.
“I bet. But why this sudden rush? You just saw him two days ago and now tomorrow engagement. Do you know how much I had to beg my boss for a sudden leave?”
“His sister is getting engaged day after, and his family wanted to conduct both the functions together”
“And Mami might have thought she can foot the bill to the groom’s side for the function if we do it together” I teased her.
“Sshh… It was Papa’s idea” Di whispers to me giggling.
“Show me his picture” I laughed loudly hearing that while Di grabs her laptop and gets his photo.
“This is him”
“Let me see your hot Sanskar” I teased her as she turned the laptop towards me.
“This is Sanky, right?” my smile dropped.
“Sanskar Maheshwari. You know him?” Di asks curiously.
“Yeah… Di what do you know about him?” I asked her back curiously.
“Why, Shona? What do you know about him? And how do you know him?” Di asks me frowning.
“I know him since college”
“College? But he didn’t study in your college”
“He was my senior but we had common friends and moreover his sister, Tiya used to be my benchmate. So we used to hang out together” I shrugged.
“And?” Di asks frowning realizing there was more to it.
“He is a nice guy, Di. Very sweet”
“But? What is it, Shona?” Di asks me as she could guess I hiding something.
“I don’t know, Di… he might have changed… don’t know how he is now”
“How was he before?”
I contemplate for a while and then decide that my loyalty was more towards my sister and this family who had raised me after my parents’ death. Mama and Mami along with Di had taken care of me for eighteen years and how can I forget that?
“He used to be a little wild”
“Wild?”
“Alcohol… girls… he used to sleep around most of the time. But he might have changed his ways. Did he say anything about that?”
“I didn’t ask him anything about that” Di says as she sits down in shock.
“He used to smoke up too. He had got into an accident because of it and he had said that he would quit and he was never going to use drugs again. He had promised all of us that”
“Drugs too?”
“Yeah but he did tell us that he was not going to use it again” I told her again.
“Alcohol, girls, drugs… is there anything good about him, Shona?” Di asks me shocked.
“No, Di I know him. He is a sweet guy. I can guarantee that. He had the vices of a boy from a rich family but he was a true friend. Every time anyone was in trouble he would be there to help them out. He has helped me out too but he was a little wild back then. But that is years ago, Di. He might have cleaned up after that. I haven’t seen him after he left college”
“I don’t care. I can’t marry him” Di decides and stood up from her place.
“Just talk to him before you decide, Di. Give him a chance to explain” I request her.
“Why should I jump into fire knowing that I would get burned, Shona? I should have sent you his photo when this proposal came then things wouldn’t have come to this. Even now, it is not late” Di says and walks off to talk to her parents while I sit back in shock wondering whether l did the right thing by telling her something that had happened in the past.
Author’s Note:
So I posted the first part. It was a short part on Swara and her life. Do give your views… And I think I get too angry sometimes. Pardon me for that..! For those whom I have replied rudely. I’m sorry.
Vote and comment. Special sorry to Seebu_S. I think I sounded too rude to you.
Thank You 🙂