Well that was unexpected

Well that was unexpected

A Chapter by Oindrila Das
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The introductory chapter to this book

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My mother had named me after her best friend .‘Rahul’, I don’t think she is obsessed with anything more than the utterance of this one word. Unfortunately, the person in question  proceeded for the abode of divinity before my birth leaving me with no chance of a rendezvous with him. Not that I complain for my mother’s routine accounts of his life was enough to make me feel a cosmic connection with him.  Every night of my childhood was filled with the adventurous journeys and tales of Rahul and Rai or as I like to call them ‘The Two musketeers’.

Oh, my sincere apologies, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Rahul, Rahul Chatterjee. Two years have passed since I officially stepped into adulthood and right now am pursuing the field of medicine in a reputed college in Mumbai. It’s quite a decent place here but I miss my mother very much, or rather shall I say those daily narratives of the mysteries which according to my mother she had “a chance meeting with”. Though medicine interests me very much, I can’t really compare my passion for writing with it. It is something which runs in my veins I guess, my biological mother being an author herself. However, this passion of mine couldn’t have been ignited without the initiative of my adoptive mother- Dr Rai Chatterjee who sowed the seeds of literature in me.

Anyways, this is one of the first stories which ma told me during my formative years. Many events of that age are blurred except the words pronounced by my mother every night.

It was the year 1994 and ma was fresh out of NIMHANS after having completed her Ph.D. Life was going all too well for her and she had already received an offer to serve as an assistant professor in one of the reputed colleges under University of Delhi. Her tenure started in two months and in that break, she had decided to spend some time with an aunt of hers in Calcutta. Her aunt, my grandmother lived in the heart of Calcutta possessing a huge bungalow.  A widow then and now deceased, she had rented out many rooms of her dwelling which ensured her a sustained income along with the wealth she already owned. She herself lived in the ground floor, age and arthritis being the shackles of her curiosity to probe more about the lives of her  tenants.

The place where grandma stayed however had its own dark secret. During the daytime the, her neighbourhood was as pleasant as a rose garden but every rose has its thorns and these thorns morphed into tentacles of a monster as soon as the sun went down the horizon. Every now and then someone from her neighbourhood or from the area around it was found attacked or murdered. Grandma however used to remain unfazed by these incidents, having being habituated with them for more than a decade. My mother also strangely wasn’t much bothered with the condition of the neighbourhood and with utmost zeal enjoyed the company of her aunt.

Within a few days’ time ma had made herself acquainted with and had won the hearts of all the tenants of who lived in the house. The tenants lived in harmony with one another and every evening sat down to chit chat and play Ludo or chess. One of them was Ashwin babu who considered himself a champion of chess but oddly every day lost to ma in a game of the same. However, ma liked spending a lot of her time with the homeopathic doctor- Naren Biswas who with his knowledge and wit always kept her engaged. He had a long queue of patients everyday waiting to be treated with the miracles of homeopathy and ma sort of became his assistant for a while.

However, this routine of hers was pleasantly interrupted with the coming of a certain person whom she had not seen in the last two years and surely didn’t expect to see then.As usual ma was having a nice chat with grandma accompanied by Naren Biswas when one of the servants informed of a visitor. Grandma told him to usher the visitor in the room and soon enough a tall man with a quite handsome face and equally impressive physique entered the room.

“Rahul” was all what ma could say widening her eyes. The person in question gave “his endearing smile” as ma always told me and went ahead and touched the feet of grandma.

Grandma was nearly in tears. It had been a while since she had seen this boy whom she considered no less than her own. But he was no longer a boy but rather now was a well-qualified neuro surgeon .Dr Naren was the only one who sat there with an uncertain smile on his face and after a few moments of contemplation left the scene , for the family to have some time alone.

As ma had recalled there was pin drop silence in the room as she refused to look at her childhood best friend while he resolutely eyed her. The silence was broken by grandma.

“Rahul, you wretched boy. For two years not a single letter or a phone call did I receive from you. Is this how much I meant to you??” she complained with a hint of light mock in her voice.

“Well mausi, you know how busy I was with my studies and career. I …. Rahul started but ma cut him in between “Yes so much busy that we all had paled into the oblivion” she taunted him.

“Its not completely my mistake now is it?? Even you could have written to me first but there wasn’t an initiative from your side also” Rahul replied back calmly. Ma heaved a sigh, got up and left the room. Grandma stifled a laugh and asked the one of her servants to show dad his room.

It came as a surprise to both of themwhen they found their rooms were adjoining each other with a small door connecting them. How and when mom and Rahul reconciled, I have no clue for ma had left out that detail ,but from the next morning they both started acting the way they were for nearly the past 20 years, obviously excluding those two years when her best friend  was away.

Rahul like ma also gained the warmth of all the tenants , however our homeopathic doctor did have some reservations with him. Rahul didn’t mind it at all, attributing the cold vibes to the natural enmity between allopathy and homeopathy.

A few days later unfortunately things took turn for the worse, not in the house but rather outside it, on the road. A man was found murdered right opposite to grandma’s house.



© 2020 Oindrila Das


Author's Note

Oindrila Das
open for constructive criticism

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Added on May 8, 2020
Last Updated on May 8, 2020
Tags: murder, friendship


Author

Oindrila Das
Oindrila Das

Gurugram, Haryana, India



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I am passionate about psychology and literature. more..

Writing