Amrita almost forgot about the bag and the letters over the next few weeks. She was busy settling in her masi's home. Her father had called once and her brother twice. Her father called to her masi's phone. After the call, her masi looked little upset. He never liked her, in fact he never like any of her mother's family. She tried to ask her about the call but her masi would turn down the topic. When her brother called, he told that he missed her, but also he said that she did right by leaving. He could not have supported her with her aspirations. He promised to call sometimes. Her father never called her and neither did she. Time flew fast, she enrolled herself for the audition and it was due in a week. Most of the mornings she would practice in the house and evenings she would visit places with Shilpa the other member of masi's small family. One afternoon they went to the sea at Chaupati Beach. She loved the sea. It held so many secrets under it and swelled into huge waves that when reached the shore shattered on the thick sand bed spilling its bubbly guts but still not uttering the words. The sea enthralled her and she found some peace. They had malai kulfi and fruity falooda and giggled like teenagers.

That night she ate her masi's chapattis and paneer without complaining about her overstuffed plate. After she prepared for her bed she decided to write down about her day in her dairy. She had left her diary in her luggage bag unlike her clothes; she was shy to let others know that she maintained one. She found the printed plastic bag with her diary and guilt swept in her heart. She had totally forgotten about it. She made a mental note to look for the address in the letter, once she was done with the auditioning.

The audition was hectic, so many boys and girls came with hope in their eyes, hope to make their mark. Some came out of curiosity and fun, where others came with years of training and perseverance. Amrita felt very nervous and waited through the afternoon with her masi and Shilpa beside her. He turn came in the late afternoon and as she stood in front of the judging panel, she realized that she didn't remember a single step of the dance that she planned to perform. After few questions, she was asked to perform. She said a short prayer and asked blessing from her dead mother before she began. She didn't remember how she danced or what she danced. Her feet tapped at their own free will as the music filled in her ears. Her arms joined in involuntarily and her hips swayed. She gave into the flood that now travelled through her mind and body. She remembered the sea at Chaupati, the graceful and fierce sea. She thought of the waves as she leaped with her pointed toe and gracefully postured herself as if soaking in the sea. She gave in to what she knew was happiness.

She came home grinning teeth to teeth. She had passed the selection. They celebrated with pizza, and both the girls hogged. She had pizza only once with her friends. Her father never encouraged such nuisance or extravaganza. She felt rebellious with every bite and lighter with every sip of red wine that her masi had produced from her room. The sweet wine enveloped her nerves and she slept in a happy cuddle of her pillows that night.

The show starts after two months and she had to report only after a month. She had with her enough time to use or waste. The next thing she decided was to finish her responsibility with the bag and the letters. The immediate Sunday, she took Shilpa with her and the almost travelled to the other part of the city. They finally reached their destination and stopped in front of a huge apartment in Parel.

It was a gated community, so they had to report to the security desk. The security officer called and informed the flat owner about their visit and then guided them to the block. They took the elevator to the 6th floor and pushed the doorbell. A young girl opened the door and ushered them in. She seated them in spacious living room that overlooked the city below. Amrita was staring through the window and Shipla admiring the furniture when a deep voice greeted them. She turned to acknowledge that and was speechless.

She recognized those wrinkled, puffy and rimmed eyes and the determined chin. The man was fair, tall and steady against his age. He smiled at them and motioned them to sit.

He called to someone inside. They sat in an awkward silence for a while, each one wondering how to begin. Then the young girl who had let the girls in, came out with a tray of hot coffee. Amrita didn't like coffee much but she took a cup and smiled.

She now thoroughly looked at his face and familiarity struck a chord inside her. The boy from the photo, the brother, though she could not have made that out if he didn't smile repeatedly. The same smile that was on the face of the happy child was there on the lips of this aged man, it was that something that had not changed over the years.

"I didn't expect you to recognize me" she spoke finally. "Yes, I do not forget faces easily and yours is quite significantly beautiful young lady", the old man smiled again at her and that wrinkled the corner of his eyes more.

She felt a blush at his unabashed compliment but wondered if he didn't forget faces what had made him forget his family.

He extended his hand to her "Let's see what you have for me". She placed the bag on the extended hand and he grabbed it by the small handle. He then placed it on his lap and opened it. The girls looked at him intently trying to gaze his reaction.

"Why didn't you ask for it when you saw me at the station?" Amrita asked.

He looked up, his face passive except for the smile. "Because it was not mine to take anymore".

'What do you mean?"

He kept silent for some time gathering his thoughts. Amrita was startled about the meeting but she was also desperate to know what the man had to say.

"My sister Piyali was a wonderful as a kid, I am sure she grew up to be an amazing lady. However, I was not worth of a brother she thought I was. I loved her but I never cared to find out"

"What had happened that you got separated from each other? I am sorry I read a few of those letters." She now looked down at her palms guilty of her curiosity.

"That is alright. I won't blame you, you were good enough to find me and bring them. With that act I think you deserve to know more."

He paused to take a sip from his cup and the girls imitated his action sipping from theirs.

"You see, my father married twice. I mother died at childbirth. He remarried, one of his colleagues when I was two years old. No one from his family approved that as they thought it was blasphemous for a woman to work publicly in those days. My father's family had always been orthodox in different ways, so you see they didn't at all thought of her highly. It was in fact the contrary. But my new mother loved me like her own. When Piyali was born, my father was worried that I would not be special to her anymore. But my mother proved him and everyone wrong. I was always special to her; I always came first to her. I guess our luck was not that good after all. My father died of a disease and his family came over to claim everything including me. Only then, I knew that I was not her own. I was hurt that she hid the facts from me. But I was more hurt when my uncle and aunt talked about her questionable character."

He paused and took out one of the photographs and looked at it. The girls were engrossed in the tale by now.

"My father's family said that my mother had tricked my father into marrying her and that she was the reason that my actual mother had died so early. I shouldn't have believed those lies. I protested initially but then I saw my mother keeping silent. She didn't utter a single word and they kept on humiliating her. I was naïve then I think and when they threw her and Piyali out of the house, I didn't know what to do. I just locked myself in a room and wept. They never contacted me; I mean my mother or Piyali. Slowly I started believing that what everyone said was true, that my stepmother was a trickster.

I was sent to boarding for better education, away from the city and the influence of my father's second family. I used to come home on holidays. I looked around for letters from them and enquired about phone calls. But my uncle told me that they have left the town and that they didn't care for me. It was all a show. "

He sadly bent his head and kept quiet for a moment. "Few months back I heard from a relative that Piyali had passed away. I was in Kolkata then but I didn't contact her family. For so many years I had neglected her, never contacted her or our mother; it didn't make any sense to go and console her family then."

"Why didn't your mother fight for you?"

"I had wondered myself many times. I think she must have thought I would get a better life with the financial support from my father's family or may be she thought that fighting for her rights may cause havoc on her children's life and bring question my father's name. I really don't know what she thought."

Minutes of silence flew in between the three. Amrita stared at her watch and Shilpa was suddenly busy with her cell phone. Only a question reverberated in the air and the letters lay on the couch forlorn and dilapidated of agony.

"How did the bag end up in the railway station?" Amrita finally asked perplexed. This was the last piece of the puzzle that she was not able to fit in place yet.

The old man smiled sadly and started packing the letters in the bag. Finally, he restored the zip and handed the bag to Amrita.

'What...you don't want to keep them?" she was almost shocked now. She had been carrying the bag from so many days and travelled this far to give it back. Now he does not want to keep it!

"Those flowers are probably the ones she had collected for my school project before they were forced to leave. As for the rakhi bands and letters that she never sent, I think I was not worth of them anyway. There is no reason to keep them now"

"You don't even want to read them?"

"I don't want to deepen my guilt anymore" he got up. Amrita took the cue and got up with Shilpa on her toes. She was feeling flustered with the whole thing.

"As to answer your previous question about the bag, I think you will get your answer once you visit this place. It is no more my story to tell", he scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. It was the address of a shop in Kolkata.

"I got this from a relative. Her husband owns the store. Sorry, I can't give you any phone number, the relative didn't have one".

The girls left the place feeling like complete idiots. Shilpa suggested that she forgot the entire episode and dumped the bag somewhere, but Amrita was perturbed and stomped off towards the taxi stand.