'Dear Diary,

Tonight my Princess is to be married, to someone else.
I can now, without any inhibitions, call her 'Mine', for, I have given myself completely to her. It's not just love that's guiding me, it's more than that... The respect, the admiration, the awe that I share for her, has been all encompassing for me.
Love is not about achievements, it's not about gaining the person, but about sacrificing oneself for the beloved, and tonight, I'm ready for the sacrifice!
I love her, and this truth is the only verity of my existence, even if she can never be mine in the eye of the world... But, I'll always be hers, and she'd be My Princess.

The past two weeks had been a dream, and, dear diary, although my engagements with her on various pursuits have compelled me to make an exception of not writing regularly, tonight I intend to write my heart out.

The memories of riding horses together, seeing her releasing those long menacing arrows from that curved bow, so effortlessly, and reading to her the stories of the world, are still fresh. This has been my life these two weeks.
We have laughed at jokes together, we have sighed at our misfortunes, and everytime, I have felt my heart beating a little more for her, a little too intensely.

Last evening, probably our last together, I had read excerpts from Macbeth to her, and she cried.

...all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player...'

***

It's been six years, and Trilochan Roy Chowdhury was skimming through the pages of his old diary. He does it often, reminiscing the lost memories of the good times that life has blessed him with.
It was his misfortune that he couldn't keep it!

"Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player..." he murmured the recitation once, before closing the dairy, with a sigh of faded agony.

"Is that a code, Kaka?"

Trilochan's trance was suddenly broken, and as a part of his immediate reality, he saw his nine year old nephew standing infront of him, a toy gun in hand, as his large eyelashes fluttered innocently at him. His small round face had a solemn look which wasn't a characteristic of his age, his chubby cheeks had the red tinge of health and his thin rosy lips were parted in a suppressed excitement, eager to know the answer to the question he had asked his uncle.

"Which one?"
Trilochan had picked him up lovingly, making him sit on his lap.

"That one, out out candle... Is that a code?"

Trilochan smiled. It's been only a month that the child had lost his mother, and had refused to see his new born baby brother since. Lost in books, the only person he preferred to speak to was his uncle.

"It can be a code, but why would we need one?" His arms were now around the child, sheathing him within the protective cocoon of his fatherly love.

"We need a code, Kaka... What if someone comes to take you away from me? Someone evil!" The boy swallowed. "How would I protect you if I don't know you're in danger?"

"I can just tell you."
Trilochan tightened his grip around the child and rested his chin lightly on his tiny shoulder.

"No Kaka... What if there isn't time? Or, what if the evils that took my mother is standing right infront... You can't just ask for help directly infront of them, can you?"
The words were forceful, filled with childish innocence.
The boy had slid down his lap, and now was standing close to him, his tiny arms around Trilochan's strong neck.
"Kaka, can I ask you something?"

Trilochan nodded, the pain in his heart was escalating every moment, and the innocent queries of this motherless child was making it worse.

"Maa won't come back, ever... would she?"
His large eyelashes fluttered again, his dark eyes were beginning to moisten.
"Would you leave me too, Kaka?"

Trilochan felt a tight lump knotted at his throat, but he knew he had no power infront of the stubborn aloofness if his elder brother.
"But, Anirudh beta, you have to go with your father... You know he's going to England, don't you?"

Young Anirudh didn't reply, instead he lowered his head, as a large drop of tear fell from his eye, vanishing in the thick brown carpet on the floor.

"He can take Somu with him, and that little one too." He murmured.
"I want to stay here, with you... Please Kaka."

Trilochan sighed deeply, for, at that moment, he needed the child as much as the child needed him. But, his newly widower elder brother had already made all preparations of taking his two sons to England, leaving the new born under his care. And, the eldest one had been trying to pursue him to let him stay since then... hell-bent on not leaving his uncle for anything in the world.
Trilochan felt the familiar sting in his heart... First it was his Princess, then his mentor, and now it was time to let go of the one closest to his heart. Anirudh's mother was indeed his mentor, probably his best friend too, and after returning from Rangpur, it was only because of her relentless support and counseling that he was able to get back to the normalcy of life.
Trilochan sighed, for he had no immediate answer for the unmatched affection that the boy had showered him with.
Anirudh was born was a blessing in his life, and it was probably for him that he had been able to cope up with the lose of his own!
Trilochan tried to smile.

"But, you have to go to school son, and there are a lot of good schools in England, Anirudh." He tried to make reasons with him, compassionately.

Another drop of tear had fell from the boy's eyes and Trilochan quickly got up from the chair and picked him up in his arms.
"There are good schools here too."

"Yes, but you Maa would have wanted you to go there Anirudh, with your father."

The little boy argued no further.

"You'll write me letters from there." Trilochan kissed the child's head tenderly, and he nodded.

"And... And, what if I'm in danger? What if the evils come to take me there, like they took Maa?"
The boy shuddered, and tightened his grip around his uncle's neck.

"They won't, for, if they do, you just tell me the secret code, and I'll come and kill them all, with a big fat sword."

Young Anirudh wiped his tears with the back of his tiny pink palms. His uncle was his hero, and he had full faith in him.

"Not a sword, a gun, a big gun." He murmured.

"Alright, with a big gun," Trilochan smiled, "So tell me the code again?"

"Out, out candle?"

"Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow..."
Trilochan recited slowly, and the young boy smiled at him brightly, memorising every word and intonation.

"It's our code, Kaka." He gasped in an innocent delight, basking in the childish glory of masking a grave secret within his tiny heart.

"Yes, it's ours."
His uncle had kissed him again, wiping his flowing emotions silently, on his nephew's head.
'It'll be our little secret!' he sighed.
..............................................................

For the upper class elite Indians, the year 1930 was all about claiming their due rights, and fighting their way to establish their elitist supremacy amidst the British population. And, for the rich and powerful Calcuttans, the elite clubs had become a cult temple to reclaim their lost honor, and achieve a sense of belonging.

Dogs and Indians aren't allowed!

The placards would hung outside every prominent clubs in the country, reminding Indians of their subjunction, humiliating their soul, but not anymore, for the brewing Nationalist sentiments, even among the pro-british natives of the land, made it necessary for the British to acknowledge a fair share of Indian participation in every social institution.
The Calcutta Club was a by-product of these sentiments. Although, frequented mostly by the pro-british aristocracy, the Club offered open membership for all who could pay the unreasonably hefty fee to make an entry. Everyone needs a sense of tribe, a place to belong, and for elitist men like Zamindar Trilochan Roy Choudhury, that was the club!

"Good evening, Sire."
An uniformed barer had greeted him courteously, holding the lavish glass door open, as Trilochan entered the main hall with his granddaughter in his arms.

"Arey... Zamindar Roy Chowdhury, it's great to see you sir." A man in his mid fifties had extended a warm welcome as Trilochan smiled brightly at him.

"Abinash Lahiri, how have you been?" Trilochan shook his hands firmly, handing the baby to the lady who approached him from the in-house creche.

"Your granddaughter?"
Abinash Lahiri grinned.

"Yes. Isn't she adorable!"
Trilochan's eyes had followed Rudhi across the hall, as they vanished behind a thick soundproof glass wall, filled with a loud cacophony of happy children.

"She is! Indeed." Abinash Lahiri too was watching the babies.
"Children are a gift from the almighty. I too, hope to be blessed with the fortune of grandchildren soon." He sighed.

Trilochan turned around.
"Definitely. Once your daughter becomes my daughter-in-law, I'm sure both our houses would be lit up with the bright laughter of our grandchildren."

Abinash smiled meekly.
"Sure... Sure...why not!" He murmured.
"But, ehh... my daughter, Mahamaya, although very beautiful, but hasn't studied much, hope that won't be a problem to your doctor nephew?"

Trilochan chuckled.
"I don't expect her to sit with the Zamindari accounting, Abinash Babu... I want her to be Batuk's companion... As long as she knows how to sign her name, I think we'd be good."

"True... Very true..." Abinash Lahiri grinned again. "And, umm... I mean, she's a bit moody."

"Oh, don't worry, my household is full of moody people... And, once a girl gets married, a lot of things change, leaving very less room for them to throw trantrums, unless they are doing it to their husbands..." He chuckled,"Which I'd have absolutely no objection to..."
Trilochan raised his hand and gestured about him not objecting to the man's warnings, as both men smiled and drank coffee together.

"But, if I may ask Abinash... You have completed mechanical engineering, but then, why isn't your daughter...."

Trilochan didn't complete his words as Abinash lowered his head promptly, partly in shame, and mostly to avoid Trilochan's questioning gaze.

"Umm... Well, Zamindar Babu," he started, "as you know, I have spent most of my years in Yorkshire, and I have... ehh... I mean, I've another family there... And, after Maya's mother had paralysis, the girl practically grew up on her own..."

"Understood." Trilochan sighed.

"But, Zamindar Babu, I'm not very proud of this... And now, I want to rectify my mistake, I want to get her married to a respectable family such as yours."

"Hm." Trilochan sighed again.
"Coming month, on Shivaratri, it's my eldest nephew's birthday. And, I hope to see your daughter there, so that she can speak to Batuk herself, and decide."

Abinash stirred up and sat upright.
"What's there for her to decide? I'm the one who would take decisions for her... If I'm saying she's to marry into your family, then she'd do so."

Trilochan nodded his head in negation.
"No, Abinash, times are changing." He paused, his eyes thoughtful at the impending implications of the unseen future. "It's not our decisions anymore, but theirs, because they're to spend a lifetime together, not us."

Abinash was nodding his head too, smiling sheepishly in submissive agreement, half-heartedly, as this sudden progressive sentiments of the old-school Zamindar seemed to be an unnecessary ordeal to him.

Rich people and their whims and fancies!
He thought.

The evening grew deeper. The smell of exported scotch and smoked-barrelled bourbon had filled every ounce of the ambience inside the expensively decoration parlours of the club. Men in groups were scattered around, some gathering near the pool table, some at the tennis court, and the elderly ones were seated comfortably in the cosy warmth of the rich leatherette that had given the place a modern upmarket appearance. Most of them were playing chess.
Trilochan, too, was seated with a group of friends, all reeking of unmissable affluence, and he stirred his fourth cup of coffee, speaking fluently about the new treaties that Irwin was trying to push down their throats.

"But, I've full faith of the INC," one had remarked, as another countered him vehemently.
Trilochan too, was about to put his stance forward, as he felt a firm grip of an old hand on his left shoulder.
He had turned around at once, as the man's wrinkled face, and his betel-strained teeth made him frown, his mind already ransacking the forgotten memories of the past.

"Apurba Babu?" The man was smiling, drunk as a fish, and his small eyes were shining fatuously at him.
"What a pleasant surprise!" He chortled loudly.

Apurba Babu!! It's been long 25 years....

Trilochan had stood up immediately, a few narrowed eyes were already on them, and without wasting another moment he grabbed the drunken man's arm, and pulled him to the other side of the room.

"Shashi Chandra Chakraborty?"
He gasped.

Shashi Chandra's eyes were almost closed, as he continued to grin at him sheepishly. He pointed out at a cubicle on their left and spoke in a disoriented tone.
"There... Sit with me Apurba Babu... Drink with me...just a little " He raised his hand and gestured him with his fingers.

"How are you here?" Trilochan's eyes were frowning at him.

"I'm a RayBahadur now, Apurba Da..." He chortled again. "Can I call you Dada?"

Trilochan nodded, a recollection of his encounter with the man was suddenly pouring down his memory lane, and Shashi Chandra let out another meaningless laughter.
"Come... Let's sit... All royalties here... All RayBahadurs!" He bragged.

This part of the clubhouse was near the swimming pool, comparatively quieter, less crowded, and
Shashi Chandra dragged Trilochan forcefully by his arms and made him sit on one of the two couched sofas inside a well decorated, larger cubicle, the seats separated by a moderately designed glass table.

Finding it futile to resist the advances of this inebriated man, Trilochan complied. Also, he had to know if he was a threat!
He sighed, and smiled courteously at the elegant looking elderly man seated on the opposite couch inside the cubicle, his legs crossed, and the buttons of his expensive Oxford suit opened, flashing his protruding belly to it's comfort.
The man too, smiled back.

"Apurba Da... This is my man, my brother, RayBahadur Neelmoni Mukherjee," Shashi Chandra smiled proudly as the RayBahadur joined his hands in a greeting courtesy.
Trilochan smiled.

"And Mukherjee Da..." Shashi turned towards Trilochan. " Meet the ultimate royalty, the ruler of Rangpur, the slayer of Thuggees, a man of many talents... His Highness, Raja Apurba Sen."

Trilochan gulped awkwardly, and cleared his throat.
"Namaskar," he smiled back too.

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

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