It is room no.12. The room is middle sized, probably 10 feet by 12 feet in dimensions. There is a single-bed, a small table and a wooden chair in this room. A wardrobe, with rust in its racks stands alone at one corner. The walls and two windows in this room have recently been painted I think. The smell of new paint is still in the room. One window is faced in the west direction, the other is in the north. The room is airy, and clean. The floor is decorated with mosaic stones, though some areas are damped.The rooms here in ` SHANTINIR’ are almost looked alike. The two stored `SHANTINIR’ is an old-age home .Well, from now on I will live here waiting for my end to come. I have chosen this old age home to live my last days. After my wife, Mitali’s death, living in my own home was so very tough for me. It was so lonely out there. I have made a will, and written our home in Sridhara’s name.
Unlike others,i made the choice to live in a old-age home . I think it’s better to live here than to suffer loneliness. Here,atleast I will have people to talk,to spend time with. I might make good friends too. People’s company is needed to live a life. My daughter, Sridhara, and my son-in-law Krishanu were unhappy with my decision. They requested me to live with them. But I have refused. I don’t want to increase their responsibilities. Sridhara has to take care of her little son as well as her in-laws .Though some parents prefer a boy child over a girl, I think they are so very wrong. I feel proud to be father of Sridhara. It is enough for me, that she heartily requested me to stay with her. I bless her. I wish every parent should have a daughter like her.
………… In my home ,after Mitali’s death,I clinched to each and every sweet memory of her. But the emptiness and loneliness there suffocated me. I begged for my death too. We had been married together for 40 years . Who knew that she would leave me like this! She was my everything. My parents had died early,in an accident, leaving me alone. I was brought up by my grandfather, belated Shri Kantilal Banerjee . He and my father were well known doctors of Kolkta. Grandfather didn’t force me to study medicine.I took math hons. in Presidency college. Mitali was 2 years junior to me. She was pursuing botany hons. We first met in a teachers day ceremony of our college. She looked as beautiful as a goddess. She had been wearing a yellow sari . Her wavy hair, `lotus-beeds’ like eyes, bronze white ethnicity, mesmerizing smiles had captured my heart. I truly fell for her at first sight. Six months had passed since then. There wasn’t any day when I didn’t think of her. I had dreamt of Mitali everyday. My love for her had been driving me crazy. I had become desperate. One day when she had been returning from college, I blocked her way and directly proposed her. I expressed how crazily I loved her. I became emotional while proposing her. It would not be unusual if she had run away without saying anything, ’cause girls weren’t used to get proposals from boys at those days, like today. Parents used to choose life partners for their sons or daughters back then. She ,however, told me to wait as she wanted some time to think her decision. 1 week after she replied. The whole week I tried to imagine what her decision would be. I was so much anxious and nervous then. When she answered, my heart had danced with joy. It was my happiest day of my life . Her approval seemed to me like God’s blessing. But she said that I had to find a decent job, only then her parents would allow us to get married. I assured her that I would do anything to marry her. We loved each other so much from those days.
I was a bright student from my childhood and my records reflected that.After masters I applied for a job in income-tax department of our state.I gave the interview well. However, Mitali was quite anxious about the interview result and prayed for me in Kalighat. Luckily ,I got appointed as a junior officer of the income tax department soon. She was so very happy when I told her that I had got the job. But the real task was yet to accomplish. Her father was a renowned barrister, Advocate. Motilal Roy. After I got the job Mitali told her parents about our relationship.They didn’t scold her for having an affair. However, Mr.Roy took information about me and my family. Our family had well reputation in our locality .Mitali’s parents didn’t want to delay their only daughter’s marriage .They came straight to my grandfather and proposed our marriage. I told my grandfather that I wanted to marry Mitali. To him, my decision was final. Though he liked Mitali too as his ‘natun bouma` after meeting her. Soon we happily tied knots. Mitali was very dear to Grandfather . He used to say that Mitali was the daughter he never had. He closed his eyes a year later. I almost had broken down. To me from my 5 years of age, Grandfather was my whole world. I felt I had l had lost my only guardian. It seemed the ground beneath my feet was shaken. An ocean of love and affection had been dried. Mitali was by my side then. she consoled me. She became the head of our family from then. Our home at Kalyani had been decorated with her dreams and new hopes. From furnitures to wall paintings, show-pieces—everything in our house still have her aesthetic influences .I only followed her instructions. I enjoyed her enthusiasm when she made her small flower garden in front of our house, when she decorated the kitchen, the drawing room and the bedrooms. Her dreams of a happy sweet home blossomed when we had our first child—a baby girl,`SRIDHARA’ . 4year later our son `NIRAJ’ was born. Our family was a complete and a happy family. Our children played in the lawn in front of our house. Their innocent but naughty smiles, everyday’s play filled our lives with tides of joy. We did their schooling from an English medium school of our locality. Sridhara was weak in science subjects . She did English honours from `The City College’. After honours , she cleared ssc examination and got appointed in a govt. school as a teacher. She had told us that she had a boyfriend since her college days , Krishanu Sarkar. One day Krishanu’s parents came to us and asked for Sridhara’s hands . I liked Krishanu after speaking with him. He is humble and well behaved. He was a junior lecturer of physics in Calcutta University ,back then. His family is also well educated and established. He wasn’t ashamed of expressing how much he loved my daughter. We happily accepted. We organized her marriage in a grand and splendid manner. After all, My little Sridhara ,was going to be married. My heart became heavy with sorrow at the day of her marriage as it was clear that she will leave us soon. I couldn’t stop my tears when she left for her in-laws house .I know every parent feel the same at that moment as we felt. But I knew that too , my daughter was in good hands. Krishanu would take care of her. I wasn’t wrong. They live happily in Delhi now. Krishanu is now a professor of Delhi University. They have a son, Krishnendu. His nick name is Bittoo. He is 3 years now, my sweet little grandson. Mitaly couldn’t live to see her grandson. I think she would be happier than me if she had been alive to see our little cute Bittoo. When at the nursing home I took him in my lap for the first time, I was so much happy that I couldn’t explain. Last year in February they all came to our house .My little grandson is very fond of me. I made him asleep and feed him too . I pretended to become his horse and he did ride at my back! He every time urged me tell him a new fairy tale before going to bed. Sometimes I made up some stories for him. It was so much fun spending time with him. They stayed for a week. My house was so full of joy then. My heart sank when they left. Sridhara calls me many times a day, asks me about my health. She doesn’t forget me to remind me to take my medicines and meals timely. She cares for me too much, like her mother did.
…My son, Niraj pursued engineering from IIT-Kgp. When he got a call from Samsung Mobile we were so happy. But Mitaly became sad when she came to know that Niraj had been posted to America for a year. Actually Sridhara was married at that time, and `Niraj’ too was going out of her sight.It was too much for her to bear. But I said not to stop our son from fulfilling his ambitions. From that time Mitali started to fall ill. High blood pressure, insomnia,depression caused her so much pain. I tried to console her that we would meet our son soon. I took her to various well known doctors of Kolkata. I took care of her as much as I could. We did travel together to` Deoghar’, then South India .I thought her health would be recovered. However I was proved wrong. Instead,her condition worsened .I believed Niraj would come back after a year. He would then take us with him wherever he would be posted. But who knew that he would marry an NRI girl and settle there forever. Now he has a green card .How easily he removed all connection to his motherland!
When my wife heard the news she broke down and got severely ill. She had a minor stroke too. I phoned Niraj to come and meet her. He didn’t come saying he was busy. He didn’t even called us regularly. Sometimes he used to call us, once or twice in a week only to talk with us for a few minutes.
.. Mitali used to sit beside the landphone awaiting Niraj’s calls. One day I saw her lying unconsciously in the chair beside the landphone. I immediately called to a local hospital, they sent an ambulance. Doctors there said that her condition was getting worse every minute. She had a major celebral attack. They advised me to take her to Kolkata. My mind wasn’t working. I called Krishanu to help me. He and Sridhara came by flight that night. We shifted Mitali to a super speciality hospital in Kolkata.We anxiously waited outside the ICU. Doctors said they had tried their best, now only God would know what would happen to her. I prayed and begged to save her life, but all in vain. I still remember my wife’s last wish,”I want to see my babu, please bring me my babu!” I called Niraj to come urgently but he had said he couldn’t come leaving his urgent business meetings. I even begged that it might be his mother’s last wish. He said he could do nothing.
Niraj came though after Mitali had died ,in her `Shradhh’. I was so angry with him that I slapped him hardly and told him that I wouldn’t see him again. He begged for forgiveness but I refused. A son who didn’t take care of her parents,who couldn’t come to see her ailing mother, who couldn’t fulfill her last wish does not deserve forgiveness. He had come last year again to meet me and asked me to forgive him. But I couldn’t forgive him. How much Mitali suffered in her deathbed to see her son. I saw everything with my eyes but couldn’t fulfill her last wish. I was so helpless.
My anger, hatred for him still have not faded .Till my last breath I will not forgive him . I don’t even answer his phone calls.
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My mind is visualizing all my memories-happy and sad. I am missing Mitali and my daughter. They cared for me so much. But it is said ,happiness doesn’t stay forever. Its true- else why I should end up here all alone. My moist eyes blurred my vision.
....
“ This is your room Mr.Banerjee. Your son in law has called us and said that they are going to come to meet you soon.”, said the Manager, Mr.Arjun Roy. I just nodded and looked away through the window. The sky looked like a golden carpet. The setting sun has faded its warmth. Mr.Roy said softly,” Don’t worry sir. Here we will take care of you as much as we can. SHANTNIR will be your second home.”
I replied,” It’s ok Managerbabu, I am fine. Please send someone to bring my luggage and bedding from the taxi.”
“ Yes sir, I am sending Biharilal. He will bring your luggage and bedding. Then Shyamali will clean your bed and arrange your stuffs properly in the wardrobe.”, he uttered and left..
Biharilal , a muscular `dehati' youth, aged probably around 30,has put my suitcases in a corner of the room. I thanked him and gave him a tip of 20 rupees. He smiled heartily,” Sukria babu, fir koi kam hoga to boliyega.” He gestured me a traditional `namaste’ and left. I couldn’t stand too long, artherities has made my knees weaker .I have been seated upsetly on the chair since Biharilal left. Probably 30 minutes has passed. I am thinking about my misfortune .In the meantime an middle-aged sari-clad woman entered. She called,“ Dadababu ! I am Shyamali. I will clean your bed and put your beddings there. I have to clean the wardrobe then. Though the rooms are cleaned regularly, you know , unused furniture get dirty soon.”
“ Thank you `maa’. “, I asked,” can you please help me to arrange my stuffs in the wardrobe? At this age I find these jobs very messy.”
She smiled,” No problem dadababu, I will handle everything. You just give me instructions which stuff to put in which rack.”
She is very good in her work I must admit. It took her only 45 minutes to arrange my bed and the wardrobe after cleaning. ” Dadababu! Have some rest. Will you have tiffin in your room? or else you can have it in the dining hall with the others, if you wish.” Shyamali advised and looked at me for reply. “I will come in the dining room, `maa’. I think that should be better. In the meantime I will get introduced to the other residents of this home. what you say!”, I answered.
” That will be great` Dadababu’! You will make new friends here. You will not feel lonely, I can gurantee it. We take care of everyone here .You all are like our own parents.” She smiled and left. I have been looking to Mitali’s bounded photo that I have put on the table beside my bed. She is smiling in her photo. I know she will stay with me forever.
Affectionate words of Shyamali have made me emotional.she might not have any conventional education, but her moral education is of much more value. What is the use of such formal education when it can’t teach a son how to love and respect his parents, and to take care of them. From the first cry, parents take so much care of their children. In return can’t they get a little care, love and respect from their children at their old age .Is it too much to expect?...
