This chapter is dedicated to you KrishnenduGhose for the wonderful thought that you filled in my mind, the image of the broken chords of a guitar. Who said you couldn't write poetry?

The next few weeks went by fast as Amrita put all her effort in preparing herself for the competition. She tried to push the meeting to the rear of her thoughts from where the sour aftertaste of the experience would not affect her already troubled mind. She had already quite a lot on her plate than necessary. She couldn't through away the bag though, she couldn't be like the brother, uncaring or placid. But she didn't do anything about it. The bag lay untouched in her suitcase. Sometimes she wondered what was written in the last letter and thought to read it. But the next moment she told herself that it is not her story or life and she would not let it take away the peace of her life.

When the dance show begun, she packed her bag and reached the contestants' accommodation. The environment was tougher than she had anticipated. Cultural difference, ideological indifference and general chaos out of the whole affair; these were some things that she was yet to assimilate. Days and nights dissolved like mist of thin air. Every morning she would fight herself out of sleep and get ready for the day. By night she would be drain out and collapse into oblivion the moment her body hit the bed. She would come to her masi's place whenever she had a day or two off and spend her evenings with adulterated chatting.

Finally the first round started. Every day was a test like never before. Her limbs cried in pain but her lips never faltered. This was something she had to overcome. She had to win the battle outside and within. Whenever she felt, she would not go past the next challenge she scolded herself and replayed moments of humiliation and despondency that she had received in her life; that bitterness gave her the determination she required.

The telecast started soon. She was in touch with her brother but she never expected her father to contact her. He didn't and she abandoned the last twig of hope from her heart. She knew that she was finally alone, rootless without her family, the broken chords of her heart that will never create music. Sometimes she thought of the girl from the letters. Though she had never met her, she felt a sense of closeness with her. As if, she was revisiting her life and relating hers with that. Her perseverance, optimism and determination were things that she wanted to grow within herself.

She made it to the next round and the next. Over the next couple of months, everything seem to blur. Nothing bothered her anymore, no ounce of false hope, no pinch of pain, no envious eye. She had stopped expecting and started living. By the end of the second month of the ordeal, the contestants were granted a few days leave. Those who hail from the city left for their homes, whereas others stayed back in their quarters. Amrita came to her masi's, her present home.

She was welcomed by loving hugs and unexpected news; message from her father. He had called her masi. He wanted her to come back home if she wanted. She could complete her participation and then resume her studies as has been planned earlier. Her father's call was unexpected, but when she heard about it, she had expected otherwise. She sat quietly at the edge of the couch in the living room for few minutes. She didn't know what to make out of the message; should she be happy that he had forgiven her or should she be sad that he still didn't acknowledge her choices in life.

"Don't think so much on this, dear", her masi sat engulfing her in a warm embrace. He may be a little insensitive but he is still your father, he doesn't wish bad for you".

Amrita remained silent. How can she explain to her masi what she had gone through all these years and what a strong gut she had required to turn down everything to pursue her dreams?

"I am not asking you to leave everything and go back. Whenever you have your next off, I think you can at least spend few days with him, come back and resume with your life here. I think it would be a good opportunity for you to have a clear word with your father." Her masi got up kissing her forehead slightly "Whatever you decide my door and my arms will always be open for you, sweetheart".

The next three days, Amrita tossed her masi's advice in her mind, sometimes thrashing it against her strong will and at other times, she would carefully unfurl it and consider all the possibilities that would open up when she visited her father. The short leave passed away in a blink of the eye and she went back where her dreams awaited her. She would forget everything in her busy schedule but every night it all came back to lay down beside her pillow and she had to face them upfront. Some nights she dreamt of her mother and few unnoticed tears ran down her cheeks leaving dried rivulets over her cheekbones by morning. On one such night when she had prepared for bed and was saying her prayers in front of a small photo of her God, her cell phone rang. She didn't notice at first but then hardly anyone would call at this hour. She hurried and picked up the phone. The number was the most familiar one and the one that always posed dread in her heart, father!

As she picked up and spoke, she could hear a deep silence on the other end for a few seconds. Unsure of whether it was an accidental call as would happen with a cell phone some times, she was about to disconnect the line. A deep yet soft voice sounded from the other end. "How are you, Amu?" It had been years since she had heard her short name that her mother used to call out lovingly after her. She had almost forgotten it after her mother died but suddenly tonight, it sounded so touching and alive though the voice calling it was a different one.

"Baba" she could say no more, her voice choked. For weeks she had waited for him to call, she had convinced herself that he loved her but later she had believed that it was all false, if there was anything then it was only despise and shame in her father's heart for her. Tonight she was confused, trying to grab on to the edge of reality before she would sunk under the waves of uncertainty. Then the question resonated in her heart, why has he called?

"I am sorry I could not call earlier. I heard you are doing very well." He has heard about her performing, he had not watched her on television; her heart sank a little.

"I spoke to your masi today. Why don't you come home when you have your next leave?" he paused probably choosing his next words. "I promise I won't ask you to drop out. You can go back before the program resumes. I will wait".

He just kept the phone. She didn't ask him anything either. That's it? No explanation for how he had treated her or why he took so long to make a call? She sighed, maybe she would never understand this man; he was unlike his mother, always hiding away from a conversation, always shrouding him away from his family.

***

She unchained her luggage and pulled it up on her berth. The train had entered the station, but the platform was still at a distance. She was travelling after six months now. The last time she boarded a train, she was leaving her home, forever. Forever? She was not very sure anymore. She had not planned this, this was spontaneous or simply fate. After the call from her father, she had been busy with the competition. At least she didn't feel that heart-broken, a part of her heart was growing stronger, gathering steel. She had a choice after all, and no one could force her anymore. But every now and then she replayed her father's voice in her head. The more she thought of it, the more different it sounded. It sounded rather tired than defeated. How had he been all these months, she wondered. A sudden jolt tore her string of thoughts. The train had stopped finally. She followed the little queue that had already formed near the coach door with her bag trailing behind her. As she stepped out in the open, she hurried under the shed. It was drizzling and very humid. She looked around but didn't see any familiar face. She decided to wait for few minutes and then walk outside to the taxi booth. As she sat on an empty corner of a platform seat, she remembered her last journey. It was so different; she had been a lost soul then, hopeless and broken.

Then a face flashed in the eye of her mind. A pair of dark eyes, bronze skin and an enigmatic smile. Yes, enigmatic that's the word. Wasn't he enigmatic? She thought to herself. He was handsome for sure; she would have noticed more of him if she was not heartbroken. His gestures and the chivalry that he showed would be enough to win an average heart anytime. But what now nipped in her mind was that he was more mysterious than good-looking. He had kept himself quite engaging yet aloof throughout their company. She again felt that pang that hurt her when he had disappeared without even saying a goodbye.

No, I shouldn't think like this, I don't know him, and probably will never meet him, she said to herself. She was being unnecessarily childish about the whole affair. He was just an acquaintance, meant to be forgotten or kept as a good memory. "Hey, sis" sweaty hands wrapped her from behind. She would have fretted if it was some other day but she was meeting her brother after six months. Tears welled up the corner of her eyes as she hugged him tightly.

"Oh, I missed you so much, little sis" he laughed as he held her back to take a thorough look. "You look quite different. Oh my, you were gorgeous on the show."

'You are lying" she replied shyly.

"No I swear, so many guys would lose sleep over that face, if you don't trust me you can check for yourself once you reach home", he tried to sound convincing.

Amrita laughed and shook her head "Not that; I meant that you were lying about missing me".

Her brother looked hurt but smiled at her "I am sorry for everything. A guilt now replaced the hurt, washing over his facial features.

Amrita scolded herself for making him miserable. She tried to change the subject. "By the way, what is that glow on your face, what were you doing when I was not around?" she teased after him.

"What? Nothing as such." He responded but his eyes bore a sheepish look.

'Don't tell me that you finally found your Miss Perfect", she almost shrieked in surprise, almost. But she managed to put a hand over her mouth and looked at her brother in awe. She loved and missed him so much, only she felt to so hard when he was in front of her. The siblings walked happily hand in hand stirring through the crowd.

***

They sat quietly at the dinner table helping them to their food. Her uncle and his family was there too. They shared the same house like any big family. Everyone welcomed her home with a smile plastered on their faces but Amrita was doubtful whether all that was genuine. She had left home without letting anyone know, that was something her family would never forget. She wondered what each of them thought of her, whether they loved or hated her. Does it matter anymore? A small voice spoke inside her head. Exactly, that was the whole point of leaving home, to accept her choices over anything else. She should not worry on what others thought of her.

After dinner, she sat with her father and brother in her father's room. She was unloading little gifts that she brought for them. Finally her father spoke. "What would you be doing now? I guess you are not upset on losing?" he asked.

"No, I don't think so." She was out of the contest just before the final round; she lost only by few points to another girl. She didn't know what to say, she didn't know what was coming next.

"I would insist that you pursue your studies now. You can indulge in dancing in your free time if you want, there are so many dancing academies cropping up here nowadays."

She kept quiet, avoiding looking at anyone. "Baba, she just arrived. Why don't we give her some time to relax and think about the future? She is a great girl, I am sure she would do wonderfully in life".

She was surprised to find her brother defending her for the first time. She was so grateful for his gesture that she wanted to hug him right then. But she checked herself; her father didn't like much frankness inside his house.

After few minutes, she was allowed to go back to her own world. Her room lay intact, the way she had left it. She mentally thanked her aunty for keeping it clean and proper. She lay down on the bed with the fan on full speed trying to cool off. Something popped up in her mind. She got up and opened her purse. From one of the folds of the material she pulled out a small folded paper. She needed to go to the address next thing tomorrow.

***

She took a taxi after breakfast and gave the driver the address. She had taken a shower and pulled back her still wet hair with a clutch. She had put on a light green salwar suit and hung a shoulder bag in which she had placed the bag of letters along with an umbrella. She very much intended to return them to whomever it belonged. It was a cloudy and moist day though the hot air was not sparing at all. After half an hour, she was standing at a bus top in Gariahat. She showed the address to a couple of street shops and each shopkeeper guided her in the same direction. She managed to walk carefully through the muddy footpath not spoiling her dress. The hawkers kept calling and inviting her to look at the displays of products that they offered. But she didn't look around. Her heart beat faster than usual. It felt like she was off for an interview or an examination. She was nervous, not knowing what waited. Will she finally be able to find get the letters a home or will she be as disappointed as the time when she had walked into the old man's house in Mumbai. She didn't know what to do with the bag if no one agreed to take it.

She finally located the shop. It was a Sunday and there were many women inside checking variety of saris. Dussera was due in two months and shopping had already started in the mirthful city. She stopped outside the glass doors. Now she remembered the shop. It was one of those many shops that she passed by in this area earlier. She remembered to have gone inside sometime with her mother to choose saris. But they didn't buy any. She didn't know whom to look for. She only had a name of the shop with her. The old man didn't tell her the name of the husband and she forgot to ask. However, she knew the name of the girl from the letter, Piya or rather Piyali as the man had referred her. Whom should she ask for? Should she show the bag and ask if someone had lost it? But how would they know if Piyali had lost her bag. No, she would rather ask for Piyali or her husband. That would be right. She had understood that whomever it was that the old man intended her to meet had something to do with the bag.

She pushed through the glass door and the cool air from the air-conditioner stroke her hot and sweaty face. She took a breath and walked to the counter where a man was showing saris to a group of women. "Excuse me, I need to talk to someone", she offered. The man thought that she might be needing assistance with choosing saris and he called someone to help her. She was about to tell him that she wasn't here to buy a sari but to find the owner of a lost bag, when someone called her from behind "Edike asun (please come to this side)".

A/N: I guess we are almost at the end of the story. One more chapter to go. I hope you enjoyed the story so far.

Best Wishes.