The old car screeched to a halt in a cloud of exhaust fumes, just in front of the house. Nirmal Babu descended, ashen faced, from the car. He gathered up his dhoti and walked steadily into the house. He had heard the news this morning; it had shocked him to his very core.
The servants of the house led him to the kitchen. He froze, just in front of the door.
Their she lay; Chotto Bou, in her best sari, adorned in her best jewelery, only dead. The old maid wailing away...Nirmal took a few paces forward and fell to his knees.
It had been precisely two months and twenty two days since their marriage.
He recalled the moment she looked up at him, she loved him too much. It was the happiest day for them. That was the day he had stroked her face and called her Chotto Bou. She had melted with joy.
Nirmal too fell in love with Chotto Bou but he always felt, she loved him too much.
He noticed, she had funny ways. She loved to play with dolls, so he bought her some baby dolls that she played with all the time. She named them, sang to them, put them to sleep, woke them up every morning. Nirmal had to play along and pretend they were their own children.
He was taken by her innocence. She would stare at his face, her eyes full of admirations. It made him feel special. She would look forward to his company and would grow sad when he had to leave for work. He would distract her with her dolls and promise her to return soon. They spent many a happy hours.
Then a peculiar change came upon her. She grew depressed and needy. She wanted his company all the time. She would refuse to let him go. Sometimes she would grow violent when he had to leave. Tears filled her days with sorrow, melancholy hovered around her.
"You have changed", commented Nirmal, trying to mask his irritation.
She would listen in silence and nothing would change.
One morning, she wouldn't let go of him. He pushed her away and said, "I cannot give you so much time. I'm trying to accommodate you far as possible, nothing is enough for you. Please don't stretch me any further, I have other things to do."
She listened quietly, her face clearly showing that she was hurt and, she let go.
That evening Nirmal was working in the room downstairs and she came and stood by the door. Nirmal looked up, irritated and asked her what she wanted.
"Amar kosto hochhe", she said, "I'm in pain".
"Where is it paining?"
"Inside".
"I can't do anything to help you, you are not letting me work."
He began to ignore her, he stopped coming home. One night she called at the office. "Please come home, I'm missing you, I'm feeling really sad".
Nirmal replied, "I can't come now, I'll try in the morning."
"Please, I beg you just for a minute, come home. I want to see you."
"Its not possible now, please let me go."
"Listen to me just once."
"Tell me quickly."
"Please just come home, I wont be sad anymore."
"I'm telling you its not possible."
Her voice broke into a sob."I'm requesting you, please."
"Even I'm requesting you. If you don't keep my request, why should I keep yours?"
"Listen, listen..."
Nirmal had disconnected the phone.
That night Nirmal's Chotto Bou dressed in her best sari, wore her finest jewelery and imagined that she was on Nirmals lap. He was stroking her and calling her Chotto Bou. Tears were rolling down her eyes and he was sweetly wiping them away. She closed her eyes and felt at peace. She felt unexplainably happy, these were tears of joy she thought.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Nirmal by the door, calling to her, "Chotto Bou, esho..,come." She followed blindly. She was lead into the kitchen. She smiled at him through her tears as he handed her a knife and smiled back.
In the morning the servants found her in a pool of blood. They called Nirmal at the office.
"Abar? Again you called?"
"Babu...", he heard the news.
He froze.
He knelt beside her, trembling at the sight of the peace on her tortured face.
nice..
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