The one who sleeps has the chance of waking up, but what about the one who is under the pretense of sleep, knowingly or unknowingly? Who will wake them up? Or, even more, if they wake up what are the chances that they are aware!
Batakrishna was probably not in a mood of any kind of awakening, guided solely by his temperament, however,
Mira was awake... Awake, but not aware.

The escalated contention between the two brothers had reached the ears of all alert humans inside the Ray choudhary Palace, but Mira. And when Bhargavi had rushed to her once again, urging her to come downstairs to calm her husband, she appeared to be more occupied playing with one of her handmade old ektara unmindfully. No worries in the world, no curiosity, no inhinitions... Mira was busy running her fingers along the single rusty sting of the coconut-shelled instrument.
Looking at her, at that very moment, Bhargavi felt dismayed, perhaps a little disappointed too, as how can someone be so nonchalant about the members of household that had literally given her a new life.
Was this the same woman who was crying so profusely just a while ago? Or, the one who used to serve those patients so selflessly, so meticulously at the small medical Center at Dehradun? The one who came to Calcutta in search of her lost son? Bhargavi couldn't think anymore.

"Didi... Get changed and come down fast." With a frowned displeased expression she shoved a yellow cotton saree in Mira's hands. Mira smiled, running her fingers along its vibrant red border. It was getting increasingly difficult for her to place the version of Mira she had met a few hours ago with this one, the present one being more disorientedly happy... Not a care in the world!

"Beautiful saree, belongs to whom?" Mira asked innocently, as a loud shattering noise from downstairs startled both the girls to their core, Mira seemingly was moved less.

"Is this the time for such enquiry? Consider this yours." Bhargavi pulled Mira by her arm making her stand.
"Wear this, Choto babu is not in his senses. Please, please didi... Stop him!" She pleaded.

"Why?" Mira looked at her in confusion.

"I don't know didi... But at this point I'm so willing so conclude that it's because of you..." Bhargavi's eyes started dripping helplessly, partly because of her brewing anger towards Mira's growing indifference and partly because of her own helplessness to manage the situation.
"How can you be so indifferent?"

Mira pursed her lips as if nothing happened, and Bhargavi wiped her angry tears.

"But, I... I didn't do anything this time, did I?" She looked vacant and Bhargavi ket out a sharp sigh.

"No, I did!" She blurted out, "But that man is your husband, so, if you have any senses left, come with me at once and stop him... Before... Well, before it's too late."

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

The sprawling ground-floor drawing hall of the Ray Choudhary palace resembled a massacred battlefield, with each participant fiercely determined to assert their superiority in the clash of words and logic. As voices grew louder and the exchange turned uglier, it seemed the worst was yet to come.
Bondita was crying profusely, helplessness dripping down her eye silently as she ran from pillar to post to stop the two brothers.
Anirudh was calmer between the two, but Batuk's unreasonable wrath somehow knew no bound that night.
"It's you, Anirudh Roy Choudhary... It's always you... The superior brother, the superior human being," Batuk's voice reverberated with bitterness, slicing through the air like a sharpened blade. "And who am I? Well, no one cares... No one has ever cared!"

"No... No, Batuk... My dearest, don't... don't say that... I... I've always..." Bondita's words dissolved into sobs, her attempts to console him met with rejection as his arms recoiled from her touch, doubling his indignation.

"Liar, that's what you are, Bondita... It's always Dada for you... I am no one."

"He's my husband!" Bondita's cry was muffled, choked with emotion, as Batuk's cruelty pierced her heart.

"Exactly... Am I not Mira's husband? I need her more than she needs me..." He turned towards his brother now, his tone laced with venom. "And well, Anirudh Roy Choudhary, my wife is not as helpless as you implied." The pronunciation of his elder brother's full name was like the crack of a whip, stinging even his own ears.

"I didn't imply anything, Batuk... If only you had the sense to understand."

"I am senseless, Dada... Aren't you the intelligent one... But guess what, I'm done... I'm done being a second-class citizen in this household."

Bondita began to plead again, but her words were cut short.

"Then stop behaving like a second-class citizen in the house!" Trilochan's thunderous voice reverberated through the hall, drawing the attention of all present. He stood tall, accompanied by Bihari, his words echoing off the walls like a proclamation. "For too long, I've turned a blind eye to your whimsical whims, Balakrishna Roy Choudhary, partly out of affection and mostly because of this elder brother of yours who has shielded you from all adversities your entire life!"

Trilochan's gaze shifted to his elder nephew, who sat on a wooden dining chair, rubbing his forehead, perhaps in pain. This vulnerable sight of his once-potent nephew ignited another flame of indignation within him.

"One mistake after another, Batuk... Relentlessly... And we have overlooked all your missteps as if they were mere childish acts... But for how long?" Trilochan growled, his frustration palpable, while Batuk clenched his teeth and fists in acute anger.

"What mistakes?" Batuk's scream echoed through the hall.

"Do you think I don't know about that married British lady? The one who calls and harasses your brother... The one whom you so gallantly escorted to the Great Eastern Hotel!" Trilochan paused, glaring at Batuk before shifting his gaze towards Anirudh and Bondita.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Anirudh... Such a shameful act! And you've been shielding him! How will I face my forefathers?"

Anirudh's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"How? But... How did you..."

Trilochan raised his hand to silence him.

"Who do you think the monthly check comes to? Don't forget it was under my membership that you both stayed in that place." Trilochan seethed with anger. "Not just that, the Birmingham Gents Club that you both so proudly frequent is also under my membership."

It was a sprinkle of salt to Batuks self inflicted wound, and no sooner did Trilochan said that, Batuk took out is leather pocket pouch and threw it at his feet, letting a few coins roll down all over the hall, the cranking noise making the feud acutely shape.

"Great Kaka, then you must know who that married British lady is? Your dearest nephew's jilted lover, his first..."

"Enough... Enough, Batuk!" Trilochan's voice thundered, cutting through the tension like a swift stroke of lightning. "Get out of my house... With this disrespect, with this behavior, you don't deserve to stay here and claim it as your family."

"Kaka!" Anirudh interjected, but his voice sounded feeble this time, the weight of his own brother's anguish pressing down on him heavily. Had he not raised him with honor? The guilt gnawed at his heart like a relentless predator.

"Don't stop him, Anirudh... Let him leave..."

"This is my father's house too!" Batuk objected, but then his gaze fell upon Mira, standing beneath the staircase beside Bhargavi. In that moment, his eyes locked onto his wife, his Mira, and the rest of the world faded into insignificance.

He was on the verge of saying more, of doing more, but something within him compelled him to swallow his words and stride towards her, seizing her arm with a grip of steel. Mira winced in pain.

"The household that doesn't respect my wife is no place for me either." His gaze shifted between Anirudh and Bondita. "I'm leaving... And I won't return."

Bondita rushed forward, her hands clasped in supplication. "No... No, please, Batuk... Please..." But Batuk remained unmoved by her pleas.

"Mira... Please..." Bondita turned towards Mira, her desperation palpable, but Mira's expression betrayed only confusion.

"Let him go, Bouma. He's impregnated that British girl, now this widow, and who knows which poor soul is next." Trilochan's voice boomed with indignation. "Maa Durga resides in our house, and this is no place for such atrocities! Who knows if this widow is already carrying his..."

Batakrishna spun around, his bloodshot eyes ablaze with fury. He heard Trilochan speak, and with a swift motion, he seized an ashtray from the round center table before him and aimed it directly at his uncle.

"What did you just say?" He gritted this teeth, his nails digging into Mira's wrist. Mira tried to wiggle.

Like a released catapult, the ceramic ashtray flew from his grasp, seemingly in slow motion, capturing the attention of all present as it arced towards the old man, who stood frozen in disbelief.And  just before it could inflict any harm, it collided with Anirudh's outstretched arm, intended as a shield. The impact shattered the glass, slicing open his skin, and droplets of blood spattered onto the cream carpet.

"Anirudh...!" Trilochan's cry pierced the air, and Bondita sprang into action, rushing to his aid in the blink of an eye. Unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation, Batuk summoned all his strength to shove his elder brother, a physical manifestation of his frustration at the failed attempt. In a surge of rage, Batuk pushed Anirudh, who stumbled into a chair, his arm meeting the edge with a sickening thud.

"How dare you?" It was Bondita's turn to take action. She wrapped her arm around her husband's shoulder, intending to pull him up, but her eyes caught sight of the deep cut on the already-open wound.

"How dare you, Batuk!" Bondita's scream shattered the semblance of decorum and civility, her voice carrying the raw intensity of her emotions. As Batuk attempted to defend himself, Bondita rushed towards him and delivered a forceful slap across his cheek, the bitterness of her hatred stinging more than the physical blow.

"Boudi!!!" Batuk was clearly in shock, his childhood friend, sister-in-law, and partner in crime had never before acted so drastically. Suddenly, Batuk found himself at a loss for words.

"You are tearing us apart, our entire family... It's better that you leave before we all crumble!" Bondita's fury raged like a tempest, her words carrying the weight of her anguish.

Batuk stood frozen in disbelief, his hand instinctively reaching for his stinging cheek, before forcefully pulling Mira out of the hall.

"Go... See how the world works," Trilochan scoffed, "It shouldn't be much of a challenge with that Rolex on your wrist."

His sarcastic remark struck Batuk deeply, prompting him to unstrap his watch and fling it carelessly onto the center table. His eyes then fell upon the blue sapphire ring adorning his finger, salvaged by Anirudh from a fateful village in Chattagram. He removed it as well, placing it beside the watch.

"There you go, Kaka, enjoy," he muttered bitterly, before turning to Mira with solemn determination. "It's you and me now, Mira... Us against the world." Mira narrowed her eyes at him, questioningly.

"Where are we going?"

"Calcutta."

"But why?" Her lips trembled fearfully, but Batuk offered no explanation, instead dragging her forcefully out of the threshold of their ancestral palace.

No money, destination, or plan, Batakrishna Roy Choudhary suddenly found himself propelled by the blind embrace of love and the fiery tempest of his temperament that night. He brushed aside his brother's pleas and shrugged off his uncle's cautious words as if they were mere whispers lost in the wind. To some observers, his actions might seem foolhardy, while to others, they epitomized the essence of love. Yet, within Batuk's heart, a storm brewed—a tempest of long-suppressed emotions and tangled insecurities, driven by his innate impetuosity. With determined steps, he ventured forth into the shadows, leaving behind a void where companionship once dwelled. Neither the aged wisdom of Bihari nor the gentle presence of Koeli di graced his departure, leaving him to confront the haunting silence of solitude. Amidst the cacophony of his inner turmoil, a tremor of uncertainty rippled through Batuk's heart for the first time that night, only to be swiftly subdued by the bitter resentment festering towards his kin.

It was a peculiar night, and the eerie stillness felt even more peculiar as Batakrishna, in a single cloth, had pulled Mira out of the threshold of the main building. They stood in the vast, empty courtyard, the silence pressing in around them like a tangible presence. Mira remained silent, her usual reticence amplified, while Batakrishna found himself strangely at a loss for words. He checked his pockets, finding them empty, save for Mira's presence beside him. Wasn't that precisely what he had desired?

For a fleeting moment, he entertained the idea of dashing back to his room to retrieve the bike keys at least, but pride held him back. Bondita's slap still stung, not just physically, but in his wounded pride. Yet, even more difficult than acknowledging her actions was admitting his own folly that night. Anger had momentarily clouded his judgment.

"Choto Babu."

Batakrishna turned to see Bhargavi emerging from the shadows of the dimly lit pillars of the sprawling verandah, her eyes glistening with tears, her countenance wan.

"Bhargavi? It's farewell then, isn't it?" He attempted a laugh, but it came out as a dry, melancholic chuckle.

"Where will you go?" Bhargavi asked softly, her gaze unwavering, and Batakrishna felt uncomfortable in the face of her earnest inquiry.

"Um... Calcutta... Somewhere near the Medical College, I suppose." He shrugged, and Bhargavi lowered her eyes.

"I'll be leaving for my new high school next Monday, in Calcutta. Will you come to see me then?" Her voice quivered with earnestness, and Batakrishna gently touched her head, nodding in agreement.

"Here. Take these."

She handed him his bike keys and a shiny new hundred-rupee note. Batakrishna's jaw dropped in astonishment.

"No... I... I can't..."

But Bhargavi insisted, stuffing the note into his pocket. "Take it, you need it. It's my money, I earned it, as a prize." She wiped her tears and urged him on, and suddenly Batakrishna felt powerless before the determination of the young girl.

Batakrishna nodded and made his way silently towards the open garage. Meanwhile, Bhargavi turned to Mira.

"Didi... Take care of him, and yourself." She implored, but Mira grasped Bhargavi's arm firmly.

"But... But I don't want to go... I... I don't know where he's taking me... I... I want to go to my son!" Mira's eyes darted restlessly, searching for someone, and Bhargavi pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Get a hold of yourself, Mira didi... Please."

Mira squirmed. "But where? Where is he taking me? Where?" She repeated anxiously, and in response, Bhargavi held her even tighter, caressing her head lovingly.

"Just trust him, Didi, trust your husband, and I'm confident it's only a matter of time before you're reunited with dear Awni in your arms."

"My Awni?" Mira pulled away from the embrace, a smile dawning on her face.

"Yes. And for that, you'll need to be a good wife, take care of him, Didi... He loves you a little too much."

Mira listened intently, nodding her head in affirmation as the duo turned to see Batakrishna waiting with his motor vehicle at the exit of the haveli. Darowan Gangaram lowered her head and pulled the massive gates apart, making way for Batakrishna to exit, gesturing for Mira to sit behind him.

A few more moments of silence, a few final struggles with emotions, and standing alone in the empty courtyard, Bhargavi wiped away her tears, watching as the remnants of smoke faded into the dark distance.

"Dugga dugga," she murmured softly.