It had been two weeks since the last mango shower. Though crops prospered and flowers bloomed
abundantly enough for deities to be adorned, the stubborn trees refused to bear any mangoes till
the next shower to the disappointment of the villagers. No mango vendors shouted their daily calls,
no children snuck into the gardens of rich landlords to steal their mangoes and no halwai sold the
famous ‘Kachcha Aam Rasgulla’which always made scorching summer worth bearing.
While Gobindpur descended into an atmosphere of gloom, the silence of the streets was short lived.
Not so far was a carriage drawn by two horses of healthy steed whose reigns were controlled by a driver. In such a place like Gobindpur, the only destination that the rich visit is the mansion ‘Anondo
Niketan’; one of the largest mansions in the countryside near Calcutta. Surrounded by a marble perimeter, this estate had a fountain and garden which directly overlooked the river. The title of the
house isn’t just for namesake. Every week or the other, the owner Mr. Prashaano Das and many other landlords from different villages; even some British generals from Calcutta would have a night
of grandeur and celebration with poker, wine and music. His hand at poker was always impeccable and many came mostly to try defeating the man ‘at his own game’. While he was an honest person
as a landlord held in high regard by all, he was known to show kindness in eccentric ways. Every month or so, he would pay the merchants money for food grains and other essentials to give free of
cost to the poverty-stricken and untouchables. He would himself carry the supplies to the Basti and deliver it to their doorstep. He also would keep savings aside to buy various birds; 10 to 20 of them
only to go to the terrace and release them from their cages.
With a 3-storied mansion and staff of 9 members, the scenario looks incomplete with the authoritarian figure. That is where Mohini Das, Prashaano Das’s wife comes into picture. All day long, she would check on the cleanliness of the house after her morning prayers; sometimes chewing a betel leaf while doing so. Her meticulousness was so overwhelming that no staff could ever reach her desired standard of maintenance. Also, the woman not being a very sympathetic person would fire those who made mistakes that she found irrevocable and clumsy. The marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Das was considered as the angel and devil tying the knot. Mohini never liked her
husband’s interaction with the poor, his poker nights or his eccentricities. Their marriage was just an alliance for more real estate. While Mr. Das tried his best to maintain good relations with his wife,
her overbearing and narrow-minded personality led to the consensual decision of living blissfully apart.

But this wasn’t a typical day for the Das family. The ones arriving to the mansion weren’t Zamindarsor Generals. Inside the carriage was a woman dressed in a greyish white saree of delicate silk with intricate fractal borders against a black blouse. Despite the dress she wore, she still had her vermillion intact and a necklace of gold. This, the softness of her palms and her ever youthful face indicated her marriage in a well-off family, high in both economic prospects and societal rank. Her expressions were calm yet sombre as she
stared at the wilderness outside with nostalgia. Her thoughts went to her childhood in this village.How she would walk to the temple while collecting flowers on her way, how she spent all afternoon
playing with slingshots and gilli danda till evening with her friends, how she and Charuki would….
Her thoughts blanked out completely. “Charuki….”. Her memories of her sister Charuki were faint. For some reason, she had always associated them to be unpleasant. Then a poem struck her. A
poem that her sister always muttered under her breath while strolling aimlessly around the house:

“A dollhouse is what I desire,
I will not settle for less,
I will have a doll
In beautiful jewels and a beautiful dress.
I will have my dollhouse,
Perfect and nice,
Adorned with a lovely life,
Anything less will never suffice.
A dollhouse is what I desire,
I will not settle for less,
I will have a doll
In beautiful jewels…………”

The voice slowly faded as it was replaced by the voice of a man gently calling her name. “Uma? Uma!”. She quickly flinched as she snapped out of thought and faced the man who was none other than her husband sitting beside. “You were lost in deep thought. We have almost reached. Although who can blame you; visiting your childhood home after 8 years.” She nodded and smiled slightly as
she tucked her head with the drape of her saree. This was Uma Das, the elder daughter of the Das
family. Her beauty and delicate features before made her the most beautiful maiden of Gobindpur. After being married, she had to go to her in-laws’ place in Calcutta from where she never looked
back at her previous life. She never thought of ever coming to visit, and now here she was, riding all the way from Calcutta to attend her now late sister Charuki Das’ funeral.

Charuki Das was the youngest member of the family. At the age of 10, it became evident that she
was mentally disabled and would continue to be so. Mohini, who was already disappointed at
Charuki for being a girl was even more outraged to learn about her mental disability. At 13 years, the
beatings to the poor girl became so much that her father made separate arrangements for her to
live out in the garden. As he yelled at his wife for beating the apple of his eye, the wife would then wail exclaiming how horrible her fate was and would sometimes even make a scene in the village.
This attitude of hers refrained him from being verbal and rather invested all of his energy in protecting his daughter. He had built a small brick house with a full-sized bed, furniture and polished floors. It even had another floor from where one can see the river. Besides, she didn’t mind living in
the garden where she could stroll around and play in the mud. She maintained no contact with people outside the mansion as the children were too frightened to play with her. Regardless, Mr. Das loved her the most as he saw many of his qualities in her; mostly being her benevolence and
eccentricity. During lunch, she saved almost half of her meal of rice for the sparrow. When a curious staff would ask why she did so, she would simply say- "I want to see them fly. They need energy for that."
Some found her endearing, whereas some others found her revolting.
One of the staffs- Karavi would often rat out staff members who tried to make contact with Charuki to Mohini Das who would then fire them the very next day. So even the staff maintained their distance. This only left Uma and her father as her closest companions. Uma, only 2 years elder to her would play hide and seek for hours with her sister till she went to play with her friends. One day, feeling bad for her sister, she snuck her out to introduce her to Mohan, Swarna, Champa, Kalyan and Rishi, her playmates. The interaction however didn’t go well. As they started teasing her for stuttering and acting like a child, Charuki slowly losing her cool bit one of the boys on the ankle and yanked on Champa’s braids. Uma, embarrassed quickly pulled her sister away and walked fast towards the mansion all while she had to drag Charuki. When they reached the brick house, Uma yelled at her for being such an embarrassment in front of her friends and that she never wanted to
see her face again. Hearing this, Charuki ran into the brick house wailing. She sobbed for the rest of the evening loudly till her father came in to console her and ended up spending few nights in the brick house.
One day, to cheer his daughter, he came into the brick house with a deck of cards. After that incident, he asked one of the carpenters in the village to build a medium sized dollhouse for Charuki for she always fancied one of those. While it was in the process of making, he decided to bond with her by stacking and balancing a house of cards.
Charuki, excited by the prospect immediately set down to work with her father. 10 minutes hadn’t even passed by before Mr. Das ended up with a torn and
bitten deck of cards and a wailing daughter. “My dollhouse broke! No more house of cards!” Mr. Das, not wanting to face her wrath silently exited the house leaving the torn deck of cards on the
bed. As he narrated the story to Uma who bursted into a fit of laughter, he also exclaimed his disappointment in her lack of empathy. “It’s time you made amends. You are all she has. Too much anger is never good.” Later ashamed of herself, Uma did make amends by bringing her a pot of the famous ‘Kachcha Aam Rasgulla’ which she accepted ecstatically.

That was about 12 years ago. Uma Ganguli, now a woman was helped down from the carriage by her husband after coming through the gate and stopping in front of the mansion. A few villagers who
had earlier spotted the couple arriving this morning gathered near the gate to get a glimpse of the daughter who has returned for the funeral only to be driven away by the guards. As she walked inside the mansion, she was greeted with a gathering dressed in gloomy colours. On the floor was Charuki, dressed in white from the flowers to the blanket over her. With her face rested with a peaceful pallor, she was ready to be taken to the pyre set up on the opposite side of the river. Uma’s reaction was sad but not emotional. She stared at her sister for a second or two and then scanned the gathering for her father. There was her father, talking to one of his poker mates.
“Uma! I almost thought you wouldn’t come!”. She smiled and walked towards her father, bending down to touch his feet when she was stopped. The father smiled sadly saying, “When have you
become so formal” after which he embraced her.
“I’ve missed you”, he said. “I’ve missed you too” Uma replied, overcome with emotion. As the husband proceeded to touch his feet, he was also met with an embrace which he graciously accepted.
"Where is my granddaughter Mrinalini...it has been so long since I have seen her?",
he asked.
" She got a cold overnight and we thought best if she didn't come.." Uma replied knowing that her father would not be best pleased.
"Is she fine?", he asked concerningly.
"Don't worry, she is well tended to. Where is maa?” Uma asked.
Her father, sadly shaking his head replied, “What else; making sure the house is to her liking. That woman has not the slightest care for her own daughter. You should go and call your mother. At least she will come down for your sake if not for hers. If even not for you, then tell her that people will think bad of her. That should make her come running.”
Uma, unsure as how to react, obeyed her father and proceeded towards the corridors to find her while her father engaged in conversation with her husband.

Finding her mother wasn’t really a task. From the veranda of the first floor overlooking the garden,
Uma could clearly see her mother yelling at one of the gardeners.
“I had asked you to grow jasmines, so why are they periwinkles?”
The gardener scared to his wits
replied stammering, “Tha...tha...thakurani, I didn’t notice. Old age has gotten the better of me. I couldn’t recognise the plant properly and ended up bringing and planting a periwinkle. Please forgive me. I will try to bring you a jasmine plant at the earliest. I…”
“That won’t be necessary! Bold of you to assume that I will be keeping you after this blunder.”
“Please thakurani”, he said falling on her feet. “Without this job, how will I pay for my daughter’s dowry? How will I feed my family? I have been working here for at least 7 years and never have I ever made such a mistake! Please have some sympathy on my predicament!”
“How dare you even touch me! Have you no shame?”, she said although enjoying the attention and dependency. “You should have thought of that before bringing that plant. Moreover, who will marry your dark-skinned daughter?”
“I don’t believe you to be a judge of that”, said Uma interruptingly as she came. “Besides, There are other jasmine plants that our gardener has well tended which I think will suffice for the deities. There is not a single legitimate
reason for you to take his livelihood.” She turned towards the gardener.
“The periwinkle you picked looks lovely." But today is a day of mourning for our family. I request you to take the day off. You can come tomorrow.” The gardener slightly bowed his head in gratitude and left the scene immediately.
“Uma! What a pleasant surprise! I never expected your arrival.”, she said, clearly not looking thrilled.
"Why weren't you expecting me?"
When you dismissed that gardener, I realized you seem to forget that this is no longer your family. Whatever happens here is no longer your concern. Didn’t your in-laws tell you nothing against coming here?"
“It is my beloved sister’s funeral”, Uma said her voice breaking slightly after which she immediately composed herself. “Not that you've ever cared. And besides, like you said, that is between me and my in-laws. Nothing that concerns you"

“I still didn't hear family.", she said with a slight mocking smile.

"Now tell me why are you here."

"I just told you, for Charuki’s funeral. It is no secret that you have despised Charuki all her life. You really think I would come all the way to talk to you about how you could have been a better mother to Charuki? You aren't even humane enough for heeding my words."

"What do you condemn this poor mother for? Looks like you did come all the way just to accuse me of being an incapable parent. Let me tell you something. Even though you now make me out to be the devil, believe me when I say that I cared more for your future than your father.”

“Really mother? How so?”, she asked sarcastically.

“I have married you off to a family which can provide you with all the luxuries you need for the rest of your life. What more do you expect? I can't spoon feed you your entire life. You clearly are having a hard time adjusting with your new family
Why take it out on me?"

“Married me off? You gave me away like cattle. I am merely fortunate enough to land a husband with a good heart!”

“Again, what more do you expect? What is your problem you ungrateful child?”

“8 years mother! I have lived a married life without love for 8 years! Every day in that house is a struggle for me. You led me under false pretences and told me nothing of the trials I would have to face as a married woman!”, she yelled emotionally. “My husband is nothing more than a friend to me.”

“Every woman knows the difficulties that have to face when moving with your in-laws. The fact that you were expecting love and pampering, your father is to blame for that. And lack of love is your anguish? Lack of love? That is why one bears children. When will you make this poor mother honorable to be called a grandmother?
"Mrinalini is your granddaughter ma. How could you say this?"
"Does she really count? She won't be the heir of your household, would she? Have I worked so hard only for you to imitate exactly what I did for you and get her married?"

"I am fortunate to have a daughter who will be nurtured under my guidance and not just raised for marriage and children."

"Daring words...your in-laws will sure love your ideas of raising your daughter to be educated...Must you be so foolish just because you don't love your husband? If it were upto me, I would have tried for a son if your father wasn't so caught up with Charuki."

“Mother, ENOUGH ….”

“Is this about Charuki? If so, it isn’t my fault that your relation with her became strained. You were focused on getting married. Nothing good ever came when she was involved in your personal life. Have you completely forgotten what she had done when that Zamindar from Midnapore came to lay a marriage proposal to you?”

Uma remembered that day. It was that very day which created a rift between Charuki and her. The Zamindar of Midnapore who owned 3 acres of real estate and even peacocks in his garden was one
of her father’s close friends. Finding his daughter attractive, he spoke to Mr. Das about asking his daughter’s hand in marriage which he found outrageous. But Mohini had other plans. She persuaded
Uma to marry the rich Zamindar while poking at her fear of a bleak future without marriage. Uma, led by fear reluctantly agreed. Mohini then pestered her husband to reconsider the proposal. With
no objection from Uma, the Thakur of the house was rendered defenceless. So, the day came wherethe zamindar, well dressed came to officially ask for Uma’s hand over luncheon.
From the stairs overlooking the dining table was Charuki, watching as her sister uncomfortably
engaged in conversation with the zamindar. As she watched his gaze upon her sister, she glared and
sucked her thumb thoughtfully. Then with an unknown glimmer of emotion, she ran towards the
garden, unnoticed towards the brick house.
“How long will this man go on?”, Uma thought to herself. “Please stop his nonsense.” Little did she
know that her wish would be met. An angry Charuki came rushing in with a torn deck of cards. To
the horror of Mohini and Uma and the amazement of Prashaano Das, she threw the hot cup of tea
all over the zamindar yelling, “YOU BAD! YOU BAD!” and then yelling at Uma saying, “HOUSE OF
CARDS! HOUSE OF CARDS!” over and over again while throwing cards up in the air all around the
house. As 3 servants rushed in to take Charuki away, the zamindar’s ego had already been bruised.
Outraged, he yelled horrible names at Mr. Das and called Uma and Charuki an abomination. He
immediately left from there, his dress with a brown stain, never to come again. Uma sat there on the chair dumbstruck. Such an incident would definitely be well known across the city within a week or two. Who would ever marry her? And she couldn't go back, not to him..the one that was on her mind...the one she wanted to spend her life with...As she fell into despair...her sadness turned into anger..
"Charuki...she....she did this..." Ever since then, she made a pledge not to talk to her sister ever again. When Charuki tried to talk to her, she asked Karavi to take her away. When she was taken away and locked in the brick house, a quick glance from Uma saw Charuki peering at her from the window after which she turned her back and walked away.. That was the last time she interacted with her..
Now here she was, wondering how to answer what her mother just asked.

“She had an opinion. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“And that peasant did know what he was doing?”

“You are pulling a very delicate string here mother!”, said Uma gulping.

“Please! Your scandalous affair with that boy, that too from a poor background had to be ended by me. I had to clear the filth you made.”

“Our feelings for one another were genuine. He was working for the Civil service exams. He wanted to be worthy for me. You never gave him a chance.”

“An education changes nothing. He will always be the son of a peasant, will corrode our bloodline if you ever married him. Your father may not be a sensible man, but by God's grace, he wasn’t foolish enough to callously hand you over to that peasant for marriage. At least Charuki never cause me that kind of trouble."

“He what? So, he knew about this?”

“Yes. Don’t look at me like that. You enjoy the luxuries that was made possible only by me and now have the audacity to blame me? I have ignored Charuki just to provide for you and this is how you repay me?”

“So, you justify your cruelty by blaming me?”, she said now with tears in her eyes.

“I am justifying my obligations. Has your father ever cared for your marriage? Has he ever cared what is to become of you? He would just let you live with him for the rest of his life till he died after
which both you and I would be at the mercy of our cousins! Is that what you wanted?”

Uma became silent. The garden was silent till the birds resumed their chirps. Mohini, calming herself
said, “Tell your father that I’m enjoying the tranquillity of the garden and would not be coming to the hall. As for Charuki, I hope the heavens are more merciful than me. Hopefully, we never have to cross paths again. I can't cater to your every need and inconvenience."

As Uma made her way back to the hall, she was lost in thought. What if she accepted the zamindar’s proposal? What if she eloped with him to Kolkata? But most importantly of all, what if she had never distanced herself from Charuki?

When she reached the hall, there was no one except Karavi. She gazed puzzled at the empty place while Karavi broomed the place.
"Where is everyone?"
"Mejo rani, all of them went to the ghat to take her to the other side of the river. I was wondering why were you in the garden instead of the hall."
"If you knew where I was, why didn't you tell me?"
"Thakurani doesn't like work to be half completed. If I left my chores, I would not have been spared."
"By chores, do you mean the gossip you hear from the villagers at the gates? It is not my first time in this house."
"Mejo rani, my chore was to get the sack of vegetables in the kitchen. I asked the vendor to come though the gates because I couldn't lift all of those myself."
"I didn't ask for details, Uma said exasperated and proceeded to leave the hall hurriedly when Karavi called out again.
"That vendor was young, and he was asking about your well-being with a lot of concern. I told him that you were happier than ever. I hope I spoke your mind?"
Uma stopped and turned around facing Karavi with stern eyes.
"If you further probe me with unnecessary questions, I will make sure to give you something to be concerned about, like your job."
"I understand mejo rani. This is not your first day in this house. And you of course have every right to express your dissatisfaction. After all, you're our house guest. You will always be our guest."

Uma wanted to retort but realized that talking to her was vexing and useless. Annoyed, she went hurriedly to the ghats hoping she wasn't too late.

The body had already been taken to the river by the time Uma got there. Loading her on the boat, her father and few others, including her husband were rowed to the other side. They must have waited for Uma to tell her last goodbye but left, seeing that she didn’t arrive yet. Uma still wanted to
see them go as she lost view of the boat. Then she remembered that the best view of the river was
from none other than the brick house. Rushing towards the house, she climbed to the second floor
which overlooked the river. She watched as the boat slowly and slowly descended into the unknown
till it was no longer seen.
As she stopped to catch her breath in front of the window, her eye went to a doll fallen on the floor.
This was the doll Charuki obsessed herself so much with. On the other corner was the dollhouse that
she used to play with. As she roamed a bit around the room, her curiosity was piqued again by the
doll in the corner. So, she picked up the doll examining it. The cotton stuffed toy was dusty and had
cute braids with over featured eyes and a red-lipped smile. Unlike the other toys in her room, this
had no chew marks. This was the toy she kept for her dollhouse. The one with a lovely life and her
most priced possession. She wouldn’t even let her father touch it. As she flipped the doll, her eyes
fell on a name. Although scribbled, the name was unmistakable. The name of the doll, which made
Uma sit on the bed, rethinking her sister’s intentions. The name was spelled ‘U M A’. As dusk slowly
integrated with the sky, she ran her fingers across the very bed her sister used to lay in, forever
indebted to her actions. She tried. She tried to give Uma a life that Charuki herself so deserved.
“Forgive me.”, she said tightly grasping the bedsheet tearfully. “Forgive me Charuki...”

********

“Uma! We have to leave!”
“Coming!” Uma who was taking a stroll in the garden lost track of time. It had been two days since
Charuki’s funeral. She briskly walked towards the gate where her father waited for the last goodbye.
She touched her father’s feet for his blessings and proceeded towards the carriage where her
husband was waiting when she was stopped by a hand on the shoulder.

“Tell me something truthfully.”, he said. “Are you happy?...”
"Why wouldn't I be?.."
“I don’t know. I had always felt guilty for not involving myself in your marriage prospects. I never thought of you as the marrying one. I always thought you to be….”
“Be what?”
“Never mind. Reach safely. May you be blessed with all the happiness you deserve.”
As the carriage left the mansion, A pair of eyes followed it from the window; none other than Mohini. She muttered a silent prayer to the sky and went back to her daily chores.
Uma looked outside at the lands thirsty for water. From the corner of her eye, she caught her husband staring at her, wanting to say something.
“What is it?”
“It is nothing really.”
“Then no trouble telling.”, she said smiling. “Pray tell.”
“What are your thoughts about having a mango estate here? We could have a business from that and also, we could give away free mangoes to the poor.”
“I love the sound of that!”, she said gently holding his hand. The gentleman taken by surprise happily took her hand in his. Momentarily, a pitter-patter sound was heard which seemed to have come
from the carriage roof. As Uma looked outside, she slowly noticed raindrops which transientlyturned from a drizzle to a heavy downpour. As the villagers rejoiced upon the unexpected rainfall
even though there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky, Uma, deep within knew that it was nothing more than the deepest regards of her sister Charuki. This end which although never justified the means,
the means where her sister endured ridicule and emotional pain, she did hope that that the heavens would be more to her liking. And as for herself, for once, she found comfort in the bleak for she knew, with subtle beginnings, she would find a reason to base her life more than just a married woman. Even if it was too late for her, Uma wouldn't mind. She would make sure to not let Mrinalini have the same fate. Mrinalini would write her own destiny. Uma had to do this...for herself, for her father,
for Charuki...
© RyanR