The usefulness of her thoughts had evaporated sometime ago yet Raimoti's mind churned on in the darkness like a runaway motor. When she started trying to do math in her head, counting backward, that she knew things were bad. This sleeplessness  was her torture. While the rest of the world embraced their dreams, their eight hours of rest, a tired Raimoti tossed and turned on the straw-mat laid on the empty floor, her mind chasing the white rabbit. He had her dreams in his pocket, the sacrosanct, and the honest man in the barn had her thoughts. A faraway train whistled somewhere in the background and her floor bed shook. A train... a possibility of reaching somewhere, somewhere in the real world, a world where Barrister Anirudh Roy Chowdhury fought battles in Court, and her Satyakirth Sen was a king! The train could probably connect her with something from the real world... Soon her mind was back on work, the meticulous armory raid plan that Satya had told her about, in Chattagram, and then the thoughts shifted to an ugly viscous face, a jaw full of yellow teeth grinning hungrily at her... Shashi Kaka!
Raimoti felt a pit in her stomach, and the rabbit was back again, it said there was a tea party ahead, but all the food was gone. A door slammed down the corridor and a woman was hushing at a man, but she could hear it all. Her eyes opened and darted to the masculine radium wristwatch kept beside her, on the floor. It's four fifteen in the morning. Outside someone fell over the utensils, may be, sending the metals clattering to the ground. Raimoti's heart was thumping out of her chest. It must be that man, Ram Chattujjee, preparing to start the day early, she tried to exhale and close her eyes... but in seconds she was at the curtains, looking, wide eyed...

"Who? Who's it?" A gruff male voice came out from the kitchen door, and a pair of shiny eyes looked straight at her.
It wasn't Ram Chattujjee, but a man who was barely able to keep his staggering feet on the ground.

"I'm a guest here."
Raimoti had replied promptly, trying to move inside the small room, but instead she felt a strong hand gripping her wrist, and he pulled her out into the almost dark corridor.

"A guest? At my wedding? And I'm not aware!"
The man was chuckling, and the pungent smell of cheap alcohol coming from his mouth made Raimoti gag.

"Leave my hand." She hissed, and furrowing his small lost eyes at her, the man let go of her hand at once.

"Oh... I'm... I'm sorry... You're married!" He exhaled softly, muttering an apology,  his head now rested at the worn out wooden frame of the door.
"I... I don't touch married women... They're... They're pure, just like my Purnima."

Raimoti didn't reply, instead her sharp eyes started to examine the man who had now sank down on the floor, his knees hurled up.

"Who's Purnima?"
She asked, drawing a little softness in her voice, and the man looked up at her and smiled.

"She's the love of my life, my wife... And she's dead!"

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that." Raimoti murmured, preparing to leave, but the man called out from behind.

"No... Wait."

Raimoti turned around, and saw tear-strains on the man's face.

"They say it's good that she died...my Purnima, you know why?" He paused, coughing a little, and Raimoti stood rooted, her eyes keen at him.

"Why?"

"Because she couldn't bore a child for me... She was barren, but I loved her... But she won't listen, she wanted me to marry again, have children, and so... so she killed herself."

The man was crying, and Raimoti shuddered at his words.

"Now, they found me another girl, and I'm to fuck her, and have children..." He looked up helplessly at her, "but what if I don't want children... I want my wife, my Purnima."

Raimoti casted her gaze down, under normal circumstances, she would have held the man guilty for his choice of words, but that moment was different, vulnerable, and she chose to excuse him instead.

"Don't marry then... Don't marry if you can't be her husband."

"But I'll have to... It's for the family." The man sounded defensive, and Raimoti narrowed her eyes at him.

"Listen, I don't know you, but you sounded like a good man... Don't ruin someone's life... Every girl has her dreams, don't crush them under your baggage."

The man looked up at Raimoti.
"Are you dreams fulfilled?"

"I'm not giving up unless they're."

"So what do I do now? Everything is arranged!"

The man sounded helpless, and Raimoti sighed at the question.
"Follow your heart... And do the right thing."

The air felt unnaturally gloomy, suffocating, the man got up slowly, supporting his intoxicated body on the wooden door frame. He joined his hands together at Raimoti and bowed down.
"Bharat Chattujjee... My name."

"Ra..." Raimoti gulped.
"My name is Srimati Satyagouri Roy Chowdhury."

"Would you be accompanying the BorJatri procession to Mymensing tomorrow?"
The man muttered slowly, and Raimoti pulled the hem of her saree over her head and nodded.

"Yes, along with my brother, and then on, will head to Rangpur... My husband is there." She murmured, adding a 'probably' in her mind, but not even once did her heart question her about the notion of her fabricated husband's existence... for, it somehow felt true, natural... Raimoti was falling for the respect of that false vermillion smeared on her hairline.

The sunrise came as if it had missed the sky and wanted nothing more than to warm up those blues to a radiant gold.
Raimoti had come out into the open, her eyes welcomed the sunrise, that iris of fire so pretty in its mascara of pure light.
She tiptoed towards the small barn, and under the dying light of the kerosene lamp, she saw Anirudh seated on a stack of hay, his arms crossed to his chest, his eyes closed, his breathing gentle. He was sleeping with his head rested against the wall, and infront of him on a rectangular wooden stool, lay a ledger book... open, half done, and an expensive Montblanc ink pen was kept on it.
Raimoti tiptoed near and picked up the pen. It was beautiful, and it was engraved...
To BRC, from Dada, it read.

The bright morning sunrays entering the thatched barn, aided by the cockadoodle of the roosters, and it made Anirudh straighten his back and rub his eyes.
He had fallen asleep at dawn, his mind tired and his body numb with exertion, and the ledger lay closed on the stool infront, the pen capped, and neatly kept on top.

"How did..." Anirudh furrowed his half awake eyes and murmured, and then his gaze fell on the woman sleeping on the hay beside him, her body was fully covered by her saree, drawn up to sheath her face, her long hair had opened, touching his feet.
Anirudh quickly removed his legs and touched the tip of her hair, and he raised his hand to touch his forehead in turn, as if apologizing, and Raimoti groaned in sleep.

"Rai... Raimoti... " Anirudh hushed, and Raimoti lifted her head a little, with a creased forehead, and a blank disturbed look in her half opened eyes.

"Leave me alone... Just one more hour... Please..." She rolled on her stomach and pulled a bunch of hay, cradling it like a bolster, and Anirudh smiled fondly at her antics.

"Alright, just one more hour." He murmured, "till I finish this work."

And when he opened the ledger, an yet suprised look took over his expression, widened eyes, and a broad smile on his lips, for the pending accounts were already settled, meticulously, with perfection, and Anirudh looked at Raimoti and smiled again.
A smile of pride it was, and his hands automatically moved inside the pocket of his trouser, pulling out a foiled half melted chocolate from it. He wished to reward her, but he had nothing!

"That's mine!"
Raimoti groaned in sleep, closing her beautiful eyelids once again, leaving an amazed Anirudh gaping at her sleeping face.

.......................................................

The black shiny car looked like a metal dragon, breathing black fire, it's tinted windows drawn up, and Mira stood at the main gate of the Roy Chowdhury mansion, contemplating her actions.
It was honking, the sleek dragon, continually, and she knew it was her cue to move.

"Go safe Didi." Bhargavi was standing beside her, with Rudhi cradled in her arms, and Mira gulped and nodded nervously at her.

"You too." She murmured.

It honked again, twice, and Bhargavi flinched her face and pursed her lips.
"Go Didi, before the bottle gourd turns into a bitter gourd, go and find your son."

Mira smiled at her words and nodded her head. She pulled the saree more on her head and walked slowly towards the car.
The front door opened at once, but Mira quietly opened the passenger's door instead, as she slowly parked herself inside the car, the insides cosy and warm, and infront at the driver's seat was Batuk, his eyes narrowed at her through the rearview mirror.
Mira looked down at once.

The car sped away, leaving the main gate and Bhargavi behind, and Mira looked outside through the closed windows, through them came a verdant panorama to expand her heart and soul, as she tried desparately to erase the memories of the previous night. She closed her eyes and breathed out.

A sudden hitch, and the car stopped, in the middle of nowhere, about ten minutes from the mansion.

"Come to the front." Batuk remarked and Mira opened her eyes and looked at him through the mirror, with question in her eyes.

"I'm not your driver for goodness sake... Sit beside me."

Mira nodded at once and got down from the car as quietly as she had got in, and in no time she was seated infront, beside the driver's seat, her eyes casted down, and her hands kept on her lap, only the fingers fidgeting restlessly.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Batuk asked, and Mira nodded sideways.

"So? Why are you sitting like that?"

Mira looked up, and frowned quizzically.

"Seated as if... As if you're punished." He took a sharp turn, making Mira almost fall on his shoulder.
"Am I punishing you Mira?"

"No." Came an almost inaudible reply, and Batuk pulled out the dashboard of the car and took out some golden aluminium foils from it.

"Have these, for you."
He kept the small coins on Mira's lap, as she spread her legs a little apart to prevent them from falling.

"What are these?" She murmured, rolling one coin in her fingers, but then her eyes shone in happiness.

"Cha-ka-let!!" Mira gasped, but the brightness in her eyes faded as abruptly as it had shone.

"I... I don't like them anymore." She murmured, and Batuk furrowed his eyebrows, quickly glancing at her once.

"It's called Cho-co-late, not 'chaka'... or whatever you said." He chuckled and wheeled another sharp turn and Mira almost jumped in her seat, grabbing the door handle with all her might.

"Oye... Don't hold the handle, the door might open." He pulled her by her arm, and Mira gasped at the touch.

"The car... It's... It's fast... What should, should I hold?" Mira was gulping anxiously, desparately trying to balance herself and the chocolates, and Batuk smirked at her mischievously.

"Hold me if you want." He smiled, without looking at her and Mira lowered her head at his words.
"And, now open a foil, fast."

There was a demand in his voice and it made Mira look up at him.

"I said, I don't... " She gulped, "I don't eat these anymore."

"Who said about you?" Batuk pulled the brake and stopped the car abruptly, and turning to his side, he looked at Mira, his gaze intensifying on her to an extent that she felt chills on her spine, good or bad she was yet to decide.

"Then?" She murmured.

"Feed me!" Came the reply.

The car continued to speed up the bumpy village road, a little faster than required, and inside Mira fed the chocolate coins to Batuk, slowly, one by one. He had bit her fingers once, and licked them twice, perhaps sucking on her fingertip playfully until she had pulled them away.

"Can you go a little slower?" Mira had murmured, and Batuk had grinned naughtily.

"Why? Are you scared?"

"Yes, may be..."

"What else are you scared of Mira?" Batuk asked, and sensing Mira's silence, he rephrased his question.
"Tell me what you aren't sacred of."

"Sorrow, and torment."
Came her calm reply, and Batuk pulled the brake once again.

"Am I tormenting you? His eyes were now on her, and Mira looked up to meet his gaze.

"No..."

"Then? Why are you scared of me?"

"I'm... I'm not scared of you." Mira took out the last chocolate piece and held it to his lips, as he at once leaned forward, inching closer to Mira's lips, the chocolate coin held in his teeth.

"What?" Mira tried to move back, but her head had touched the glass of the tainted window.

"Share it... Last piece." Batuk mouthing the words, as the warmth of his tongue melted the dark chocolate making the gooey liquid roll down his lips, making him look irresistible.

Mira gulped, and looked away at once.
"You have it."

Batuk shrugged and pulled back, resting his back on the seat he started the ignition once again, munching the chocolate and Mira's racing heart happily at the same time.

"Mira..." He suddenly called, making her jump. "Would you please wipe this from my face." He demanded like a child and Mira saw the brown liquid trailing down his chin.
She looked around once and then pulled the hem of her white saree, nearing it to his face, and Batuk moved away instead.

"Hey... Don't ruin your saree, I've a handkerchief... Pull it out."

Mira stared at him with a gaped expression, and Batuk pointed towards his chest pocket with his eyes, his hands lazily kept on the steering wheel.

"Pull it out." He asked, and with trembling hands, Mira slide her fingers inside his chest pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief from it.
"I wish I had kept it in my trousers." He murmured, and exhaled and Mira blushed profusely as she gently wiped the residue of the thick liquid from his lips.

"Mira... What's your favourite food?" Batuk suddenly asked, and it took her a little by surprise. No one had ever asked her this, and she herself had never thought about it anyway.

"I... I don't know."

"How can you not know!" Batuk smiled at her, and Mira smiled back.

"Anyway, what's your favourite colour?"
He asked, and this one easy. She always knew her favourite colour, and it was the colour that wasn't meant for her.

"Red." She smiled bashfully, added a suffix to it immediately, as if reminding herself the true of her existence
"But I can't wear it... I'm a widow."

"So what? No body follows all these anymore Mira... It's just a colour." His voice was gentle, genuine and the hint of naughtiness was replaced by a fond genuinity.

"Alright, can you guess what's my favourite colour?"

"What?"

"Blue... Royal blue..." Batuk breathed.
"Do you like blue Mira?"

"I do." She murmured, and looked at him, smiling, and through the corner of his eyes Batuk saw Mira's smiling face, a pristine innocence radiating from her eyes, her red lips curled up gently, an epitome of purity.

"You are beautiful Mira... Blue would look amazing on you."

His words had warmth, and the initial stiffness in her was fading away slowly, she was smiling now and then, even giggling at his humoured words, but never did once she looked up at him directly. Her head was still lowered when she replied, and the replies were usually monosyllabic, with a nod or two.

"Where are we going?" She had asked softly, and Batuk smiled at her.

"Didn't Bhargavi tell you?" He asked, and Mira nodded her head.

"She just asked me to get ready, that you're calling me downstairs."

"And so you came? Just because I called you?" Batuk's voice was suddenly hoarse and Mira gasped and looked up at him.

"I think I know where your son is... I'm taking you to the post office, so that you may talk to Mrs. Chatterjee yourself."

Mira's shuddered at his words, and gasped, her face reflecting an inexplicable emotion, of happiness, but as if she'd cry any moment, and Batuk kept his left hand on her palm, pressing her gently to provide the much needed emotional assurance.

"What if she doesn't talk?" Her voice quivered, and Batuk let out a sigh.

"Then there are other means... We'll have to seek help from law."

"Police?"
Mira gulped and Batuk nodded.

"How old are you Mira?"

"Eighteen." She murmured, and Batuk smiled proudly.

"I'm twenty... I'm elder to you."

His words had a childish undertone, but somehow it broke the dam of emotions in Mira's heart.

"Thanku Choto Zamindar Babu...thanku." Her eyes flowed and her hands grabbed Batuk's left hand tightly, as she brought their joined hands to her forehead, washing his skin with her tears.

"First it's Thank You... And Mira... You won't cry, you promised!"
He pulled his hands away and kept it on the wheel once again.

"S... Sorry..."
She sniffed back the tears and touched the tip of ears with her fingers, bitting her tongue in embarrassment, and the sight made Batuk laugh out loud.

"You can't be eighteen Mira... Eight suits you better... And now you can't blame me if I stuck the car somewhere!"

"Why?"

"Because... " Batuk had suddenly inched closer, his hands were completely off the wheels, and instead had cupped Mira's face, his orbs fixating on her restless brown eyes.

"Because?" Mira gulped, and closed her eyes, and Batuk moved his lips up and planted a kiss on her forehead, his heart thudding wildly inside his chest.

"Now sit quietly Mira, let me drive." He pulled back and murmured.

..........................................................

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