Besotted

By Mrinal Bose

Dibakar, a young, up-and-coming painter from Kolkata, arrives in Delhi with his friend Sandip, to participate in a group show at Habitat Centre.

But before they check in their guest house, Dibakar finds out that all of his five paintings are missing from their luggage. This drives him bonkers, because the show is to start just after 48 hours.

In the afternoon of their arrival, a young, vivacious married woman comes to call Sandip, who he introduces to Dibakar as his girlfriend. Sandip leaves with his girlfriend soon after, and does not come back until late at night. On the second day, he goes out again with the same lady who calls him from the guest house gate.
So, while Dibakar sweates it out trying to retrieve his paintings, Sandip has a rollicking time with his girlfriend. Since they stay in the same room, they have time to interact only in the morning when they wake up in the morning, or late at night when they get to sleep. Dibakar does not approve Sandip’s amorous venture becuase back home Sandip has wife and a toddler son.

Thanks to a kind police officer, Dibakar recovers all his paintings just in time. But Sandip gets into trouble being hounded and threatened over phone by her girlfriend’s husband. Things get worse and complicated, and even Dibakar feels worried about his friend’s safety.

Meanwhile, the show is over. To Dibakar’s delight, two of his paintings get sold for good price. It’s time to return. With all precautions, they reach New Delhi station. But what awaits Dibakar there is someting incredible, never-thought-of and a riddle for Dibakar’s artistic sensibilities.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mrinal Bose
• Release date: Nov 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301560950

Mrinal Bose

I'm a fiction writer, columnist,and literary blogger based in Kolkata, India. My fiction and columns have appeared in The Pedestal Magazine, January magazine, suite 101.com and Future among many other online and print magazines. In real life, I'm a practicing physician, and when I'm not attending on my patient, I'm either contemplating fiction or writing it.

Book preview

Besotted

Mrinal Bose

Copywright: Mrinal Bose 2012

Smashwords Edition

Cover Image by Soumyadip Bose,Aparna Bose

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Mrinal Bose’s other books published at Smashwords

Shadowland (novel)

Against Her Will (novelette)

ONE

Hey, where’s the roll?

Dibakar shouted his mistake as he scanned their luggage. They had just come here from New Delhi station in an auto-richshaw. Everything was there except his roll of paintings. He must have left the roll in the auto. He saw the auto at a little distance away, going away. In an instant, somewhat instinctively, he lunged forward calling out the driver and ran after it in this quiet and sophisticated Mandi House locality. The auto, as if knowing the chase, sped fast, and disappeared in minutes.

Oh, I’m fucked, said Dibakar giving up the chase. All of my paintings are there in the roll. How would I join the group show? Mrs Agarwal is waiting for my paintings. It looked as if he would sit on the road to vent out his wail.

Sandip, somewhat non-plussed watching all of this, came up to him, and asked. Did he take it away deliberately, Dibakar-da?

I believe so.

But what would he do with your paintings?

May be he doesn’t know it’s paintings.

So, what do you want to do now?

I have to retrieve it. I’ve spent a whole year, working my butt off. I can’t let them go this way.

It was only nine in the morning. But they were perspiring in Delhi heat. Their own city, Kolkata, had a much pleasant and comfortable weather this time. There was plenty of rain this year, and it was still pouring down heavily over there.

They waited for a while in silence, then crossed the road with their luggage and entered the Lalit Kala guest house gate. Sandip looked around the withered green premise and appreciated it, but did not utter a word. In the reception was Balbir Singh who shouted a loud welcome to Dibakar. So you’ve come at last! How are you, saab?

Balbir, I’ve lost my roll of paintings.

What! Balbir looked really shocked. These auto-drivers are crooks, you know. Only last week, Jadavji, that painter from Patna, left behind his laptop and digital camera in the auto-richshaw.

Did he get them back?

No, saab.

Balbir seated them in two chairs. It was an air-conditioned room. Sandip began to feel comfortable in the new ambience. While Dibakar began chatting with Balbir, he had other thoughts in his mind and began scheming something in a secret way. At one point he felt just