They say all's well that ends well. But that night, it was far from over. After walking for over an hour and a half, Batuk and Bhargavi finally reached the front of Batuk's humble abode, amidst the busy cramped up houses of Calcutta. Mira was seated on the verandah, just outside the main door, her gaze was distant as she played absentmindedly with a bunch of milky white cats. The singular ghee lamp still burned at the tulsimanch in the center of the courtyard, and its faint light casted soft, flickering shadows that danced on the walls and in Mira's imagination.

Batuk pushed the door wide open, as his voice suddenly broke the stillness of the night. 

"Mira, I'm home!" he called out in his characteristics light and cheerful tone. "Look who I've brought with—" His words were cut short, his smile fading as confusion replaced it.

The sudden loudness of his voice, combined with the abrupt opening of the door, seemed to have startled Mira. She gasped audibly, as her hand flew to her chest. Her eyes darted first toward Batuk's figure, and then to Bhargavi's shadow behind him. Without a word, Mira jumped up and bolted inside, slamming the door shut behind her and latching it tight. "Babagoo!" she shrieked. Her voice was muffled but it was clear enough to send a wave of surprise over Batuk and Bhargavi. Batuk stood frozen for a moment with his hand still on the door, still trying to grasp the situation what just happened. And then he turned to Bhargavi, as the two exchanged wide-eyed glances before breaking into loud laughter in unison.

"You're mean, Batuk Da!" Bhargavi exclaimed, rolling her large, expressive at him. "See how you scared her!"

Batuk chuckled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I didn't mean to," he muttered, grinning wide and unapologetically. 

"Go on, call her now," Bhargavi urged as the corners of her lips twitched in amusement. Then, crinkling her nose, she added, "And for heaven's sake, Batuk Da, you stink like hell!"

"I know you have defective eyes, now a defective nose too! Who will marry you, Bhaggu!" Bhargavi pursed her lips at him and Batuk let out a loud, shameless laugh. He pulled the grimy shirt over his head at once, almost tearing it in the process, and tossed it aside. "I smell like roses if you have the nose for it."  He leaped onto the verandah with surprising agility and then knocked gently on the door.

"Bou, Amar Shona Bou, open the door! Don't ya want' a smell 'te roses too?" His voice was soft now, speaking with an accent, teasing and coaxing. "See, Bhargavi's here to meet you. Come on, Mira, don't hide."

His words were met with silence at first, but after several minutes of gentle knocks and cajoling, the door creaked open. Mira peeked out, her fearful eyes scanning Batuk's face with a mix of apprehension and curiosity and then she crinkled her nose. 

"I fell in a ditch," Batuk looked embarrassed.

Mira's gaze then shifted to Bhargavi, who stood smiling faintly behind him. A flicker of understanding crossed Mira's face, and her lips curved into a soft smile. "You," she said, her voice was low but warm. She stretched her arms at her and greeted her welcomingly, "come inside."

The two girls went inside, hand in hand, and Batuk stayed back to wash and clean himself. By the time he entered the room where Mira and Bhargavi were seated, he was transformed. His freshly bathed torso glistened, droplets of water still clinging to his taut, rippled muscles. His long hair, wet and dark, fell below his neck, and as he walked in, he brushed it back with a casual motion, sending a few droplets scattering. He was a piece of art, and these few months of a rough lifestyle had sharpen his features even more, bringing out the man in him into light.

Both girls stared with open jaws. Bhargavi's gaze lingered a little longer than she intended, and when she realized, she quickly looked away, her throat tightening as she swallowed nervously. Mira's eyes followed Batuk for a moment before landing squarely on Bhargavi.

"For a moment, I thought you married her," Mira blurted out suddenly, almost inaudible, but her tone was sharp and curious. "when you brought her home, I thought..."

Bhargavi's head snapped up at once. Her expression twisted with distaste and her lips parted, ready to retort, but she said nothing. Batuk, however, was visibly shocked.

"Are you out of your mind, Mira?" he exclaimed. The mix of disbelief and frustration was evident in his voice. "She's like a sister to me!"

An awkward silence followed. No one spoke, and the air between them grew heavy. Outside, the soft rustle of leaves filled the void, but within the room, no words dared to break the uneasy quiet. Dinner passed in silence too, the air thick with unsaid words. Bhargavi had helped Mira prepare the humble meal of daal bhaat and maach bhaja. Mira didn't eat fish herself because of her past habits, but she had fried it cheerfully for them instead.

Bhargavi was seated quietly with her legs folded, her chin on her knees, lost in thoughts. Suddenly, Mira broke the quiet, blurting out the words unexpectedly. startling her, "Marry him when I'm gone. You'll keep him happy."

"What?" The words hit Bhargavi hard, unexpectedly. Mira pressed her arm urgently, but Bhargavi pulled back as her eyes flashed with disbelief. "What nonsense, Didi! At least think before you speak!" she snapped. Mira's face remained however, unchanged as Bhargavi continued, the frustration in her voice was too evident to be ignored. "He's your husband. Respect that at least! From what I see, he's madly in love with you. Have some sense, Didi." Mira kept staring blankly at her. Bhargavi took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. 

"And another thing—I noticed your beds. Why are they separate? Haven't you had enough pain, enough suffering in life already? Now, when you have a chance at happiness, why are you throwing it away?" She placed her hand gently on Mira's shoulder and pressed them, her was tone softening, but the concern was clear. "He loves you, Didi. Even someone like me can see that. Don't lose this," she urged.

For a moment, Mira didn't respond. Her eyes seemed lost in thought and then she spoke very slowly, "But you love him, don't you?"

The question hit Bhargavi like a sudden jolt. She froze for a second, unsure of how to answer. Her face flushed with surprise, and then she exhaled deeply before meeting Mira's gaze. "Who wouldn't love a man like him? I am sure he is loved by many, and I am perhaps one in the crowd. But he's yours, Didi," she said firmly. "My love for him is different. It's not the kind of love a wife has for her husband. I admire him, adore him for his courage," she sighed and looked at Mira's blank expression, "You wouldn't understand. So value what you have before it's too late." She paused, looking at Mira with intensity.

Mira didn't respond right away. Her face was unreadable. But after a long moment, she spoke again, her voice trembling. "It's too late, Bhaggu. I can not love him, I can not love anyone but god. and he's not a good man, he's a liar", tears threatened to drench her eyes menacingly. 

Bhargavi was taken aback. She stared at Mira, unsure what to say. Mira continued, her tears now falling freely. "He promised he'd take me to my son, but he didn't. He promised he wouldn't..." Mira's gaze suddenly looked demented, vacant, as if she didn't know what she was saying or doing, and it scared Bhargavi. The words left her in shock and she looked away, unsure how to comfort Mira or even what to say.

"If he promised to bring your son to you, he'll do it, you have no idea what he'd been dealing with," Bhargavi said after a pause, "Give him time. He left his family for you. Can't you see that?"

Mira shook her head, tears still flowing. "He's a devil, Bhaggu. I tell him to stay away, but he doesn't listen." Mira's words were choking.

Bhargavi's confusion deepened. "Why would you ask him to stay away? He's your husband. Don't you love him? Don't you want him?"

Mira's voice became distant, almost childlike. "Love? What's that? I want him, but not close. I was happier when he didn't come home. I know he is there, but I don't want him here."

Bhargavi's eyes widened in shock. She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to hold back her own gasp. She didn't know how to respond. "Don't say that! He's a good man."

Mira, however, continued, desperate and frantic. "He bites," she whispered, her eyes wide with fear, desperately trying to make her point believable. "Here, and here!" she touched her neck and then placed the finger on her lower lip. 

Bhargavi stood up, her face had turned crimson red with embarrassment. She quickly placed her hands over her ears. "I don't want to know! Issh!" she exclaimed. "Why are you telling me all these, Didi? It's between you and your husband!" Her voice rose as the embarrassment was slowly turning into anger. 

"You marry him then, if you like to be bitten!" But Mira didn't stop, continuing to complain like a child, and Bhargavi, unsure how to handle it, simply nodded her head violently, trying to block out the words that kept coming.

During dinner, Mira didn't say a word. Batuk, however, couldn't stop talking. He went on proudly about their little household, about how happy they were, and how beautifully Mira had been taking care of him and the home. Bhargavi watched Batuk's eyes light up every time he looked at Mira, and a sharp pain pierced her heart. It wasn't pity—just a strange anger. How could Mira ignore all this love? Batakrishna was every woman's dream, but the one who had him didn't seem to understand his worth. It was sad, Bhargavi thought, letting out a short sigh.

"What happened, aren't you eating? Or have you gotten used to cakes and puddings now?" Batuk teased, his voice playful. Bhargavi smiled shyly. "I'm just a simple Bengali girl, Batuk Da. No matter how much cakes and puddings I'm fed, my heart aches for maach bhaja and bhaat."

"Shaabash, swadeshi!" Batuk patted her back with approval.

After dinner, Batuk stretched dramatically. He yawned loudly and said, "I'm sure you girls have a lot to talk about, I'll sleep in the other room. You be together." Bhargavi understood his little ruse, his way of making everything seem normal. It made her heart twitch with something unspoken. She nodded quietly and smiled at him.

"Goodnight. Let me know when you hear anything about Nakul Da."

"Midnight," Batuk whispered seriously and she couldn't ignore the sudden shift in his tone.

Bhargavi followed Mira to the other room. There was a bright lamp burning inside the room and in it she saw Mira pulling out a saree and handing it to her. "I'm giving you my saree, my life, and my husband. Take it." She almost shoved the cloth into Bhargavi's hands and smiled unapologetically, but it wasn't a warm smile. It was blunt, almost empty.

"I want to be at the god's feet. That's where peace is. But I can't leave without knowing he'll be happy. And I know only you can keep him happy."

Bhargavi felt a rising frustration. "What nonsense are you talking, Mira Didi? Why are you doing this? I don't want anything to do with your husband. He is yours. Can't you see how madly in love the poor man is with you?"

She paused, looking at Mira's expression. Mira looked almost unsteady, her eyes distant, her fingers fidgeting with her hair as she spoke. Bhargavi's concern deepened. Gently, she raised her hand to caress Mira's hair, but Mira looked at her like a lost child, desperate for attention.

"You think he hurts you, Didi?" Bhargavi asked softly.

Mira nodded slowly, her face stricken with something dark. "He and a few others—they force themselves on me every day. He's old, but very strong... it... it hurts..." Her words were disjointed, faraway, and Bhargavi's heart clenched. "Whenever I close my eyes, I feel their hands on me, grabbing me, hurting me." Mira shuddered. 

Bhargavi frowned, her eyebrows knitting in confusion and concern and then she pulled Mira into a strong, comforting hug. Mira broke into tears immediately, sobbing uncontrollably. Bhargavi held her close, understanding how deep the scars from her past ran. She had seen Mira like this before, back when they lived in Dehradun, but she had no idea it had worsened so much now. Bhargavi rubbed her back slowly, trying to calm her down.

"Didi, the old man is dead. He won't hurt you anymore. No one will hurt you again." 

Mira sobbed harder, clinging to her, and after a while, she finally lifted her face from Bhargavi's shoulder. "No one will hurt me now, will they?" Mira asked through broken sobs, her voice soft and fragile.

Bhargavi smiled gently, caressing Mira's head. "No one. Your husband will always protect you. You know that, don't you?"

Mira nodded slowly, like a small child, murmuring, "My husband? Yes, my husband... right... Where is he?" She asked as if a child looking for a toy. 

"Do you want to go to your husband now?" Bhargavi asked softly.

Mira nodded, her eyes looked vacant and her voice was a soft murmur. "Yes. My husband. I want to go to him."

It was about 9 PM when Bhargavi knocked on Batuk's door. It was slightly open, so she pushed it gently. Batuk was half lying on his bed, a book resting on his chest, his eyes closed. He wore a simple white dhoti, his upper body bare, chiseled and glowing in the soft yellow light of the table lamp.

"Batuk Da," Bhargavi called, inching closer.

When he didn't answer, Bhargavi softly placed her hand on his forehead. His peaceful sleep had stirred something inside her, and despite herself, she couldn't resist this small temptation. Batuk didn't startle. He simply opened his eyes and placed his hand over hers, his touch felt warm and gentle. Bhargavi's cheeks flushed at once. Why was this happening to her? 

"I got your wife, Batuk Da," she teased lightly. "Seems like she couldn't stay away from you even for one night."

Batuk raised an eyebrow in disbelief, and just as he was about to say something, Mira stepped into the room. She tiptoed silently, the loose end of her saree covering her head like a new bride. She held a glass of water in one hand and a palm hand fan in the other. Batuk smiled softly. Bhargavi quietly slipped out of the room, leaving them alone. The lamp had casted a soft, golden light on Mira's silhouette, and Batuk, although surprised, couldn't help but admire her from a distance.

"Come, Mira. Sit here," Batuk said, getting up from the bed and patting the spot beside him.

Mira slowly walked over and sat down. Batuk let out a long sigh, then grabbed his pillow, preparing to place it on the floor. But Mira held his hand, trembling slightly, and took it from him.

"No sleep here," she murmured, shifting further onto the bed, making space for him to lie beside her. Without saying another word, Batuk lay back down in his usual spot. He dimmed the lamp making the flames flickering low and tender, just like the emotions that had stirred quietly in his heart.

As he closed his eyes, he felt Mira's hand on his chest, her body slowly moving closer to his. Batuk's lips curled into a soft, happy smile. He exhaled sharply, then spoke gently to her.

"I'm here, Amar Shona Bou. No one will hurt you. Sleep now, sleep my darling wife." He caressed her hair as she drifted into a peaceful sleep, placing her head on his arm. 

"Don't leave me tonight." she murmured. "Just tonight."