Guilt:Gift of Winter Spring

By Hiranya Borah

It is a Fictional Story of true love between protagonist Aroon Baruah and his wife Dorothy, spiced with Ramala’s selfless love for Aroon. It is story, how finally Ramala was able to win heart of Aroon at a matured age after untimely tragic death of Aroon’s wife Dorothy. It is a lucid description how Aroon was seduced by Jetuki, Ramala’s mother for an explosive physical relation on a festive day. It is a story, how Jetuki wanted to trap Aroon taking advantage of his Physical attraction towards her elder daughter, Ramala. It is story about how her game plan failed due to strong family bond of Baruah family. It is also a story of father and daughter relation between Aroon and Ajanta, daughter in law of Aroon’s brother.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hiranya Borah
• Release date: Feb 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311237910

Hiranya Borah

Born in a teachers' family in a village of Assam, a province of India, Borah started his journey of writing at a tender age of eleven. He published two novels in Assamese language and other fictional and non-fictional stories in Assamese periodicals during his college days. Then Borah almost stopped his literary activity for more than three decades. In the meantime he became a Gender specialist.However,so far, he has published more than one hundred and sixty five books on this platform in English and one book in Hindi within a span of five years. The books are on different topics like inspiration,romance and love, humour, ghosts, suspense thriller, children etc and those are written both in prose and poetry.Eight English and two Assamese books are also available in printed form. 2nd edition of his first book, 'Random Thoughts' is also in the public domain.

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Guilt: Gift of Winter Spring

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Hiranya Borah

Copyright 2016 Hiranya Borah

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Preface

At the very outset I want to clarify that, the novel is based on pure imagination and if any similarity or resemblance of any character of the novel is observed with any living or dead person, it is purely a coincidence only. Description of the society as described in the novel may also be far from reality.

The novel revolves around the protagonist Aroon Baruah, son of Bikram Baruah and Savitri Baruah who hails from a remote village of Assam, in India. It is a Fictional Story of true love between Aroon Baruah and his wife, Dorothy, a lady who was from New York and was a victim of 9/11 New York terrorist attack. After death of his wife, Baruah tried to cope up with his loss and left USA, leaving behind his sons with his in laws in USA.

Strong family bond amongst his family members helped him in his efforts. During this period he came to know about his lovechild who was born out of one night stay with a young beautiful lady, Ramala from his ancestral village. Ramala loves Aroon unconditionally throughout her life whereas Aroon had only physical attraction towards the girl as a teen-aged boy. When he came to know about his love child and the plight of Ramala for her true love towards him, he became remorseful. After staying alone in Delhi, Aroon realized that he needed Ramala’s company as much as she needed his love and affection. To amend his gross mistake, he agreed to marry Ramala after 15 years of demise of Dorothy. Here his daughter in law, Ajanta whom Aroon treats as his own daughter, plays a pivotal role. Other members of his family also helped Ajanta in her efforts to unite Ramala with her eternal lover, Aroon Baruah. After that, what happened?

The novel has been spiced-up with a lucid description how Aroon was seduced by Jetuki, Ramala’s mother when Aroon was a teen-ager and Jetuki was in her mid-thirties, for an explosive physical relation on a chilly night during a festive time.

A sedate description of physical relation for a night between Aroon and Ramala is the central part of the whole story.

Unfolding of the treacherous plan of Jetuki, who wanted to trap Aroon taking advantage of his Physical attraction towards Ramala is a revelation itself. It is a story, how a perfect game plan of Jetuki had been foiled by her own husband as a faithful servant of Barua family which he revealed just before his death.

It is also a story of father and daughter relation between Aroon and Ajanta, daughter in law of Aroon’s brother.

The story showcased a perfect example of a powerful Indian joint family where senior family members are often over protective about their errand younger ones. It also gives a glimpse of arrogance of powerful people in India and how poor people are not getting any protection of law and administration while fighting against the might of the powerful.

I am able to write this novel because of constant encouragement from my lovely wife, Monalisha, my children Anusuya, Ayusman and Anwesha and my spiritual daughters, Avneet and Deepika.

However, without constant encouragement from my friends and readers, I could not have written a single chapter of any of my books. For that, I shall remain grateful to all of them.

I shall fail in my duties, if I do not express my gratitude to my parents, brothers, sisters, friends, foes and teachers for their unequivocal support for developing my personalities, which may be good for some of you and bad in the eyes of my foes.

Last but not the least, I am thankful to Smashwords for publishing this novel as an e-book on their platform.

Author

The book is dedicated to all my female friends who were able to attract me either physically or emotionally during the journey of my roller coaster life.

Chapter I: Me

I, Aroon Baruah, was the fourth child of Bikramjeet Baruah and Savitri Barua from a remote village of Assam, North Eastern Province of India. My father was the undeclared and unofficial Zamindar (landlord) of three villages owning more than two hundred hectares of cultivable land and having possession of more than five hundred hectares of both cultivable and uncultivable land spreading over a large number of villages. Though income coming from the Summer Paddy, sown in those fields was the prime source of our family income during my childhood days, a good portion of our family income used to come from trading activities.

The most of villagers living in these three contiguous villages were marginal farmers and they were not able to produce sufficient paddy for their own consumption for the whole year. Once a farmer gets into the trap of taking loan from any money lender, he cannot come out of the web of the money lender and becomes poorer at the end of every succeeding year. This process will continue till he loses all his cultivable land to the land lord and becomes an agricultural labourer of the land once he owns. Due to this vicious circle, those farmers who were marginal farmers during my father’s time, they are now agriculture labourers for our extended family. However, due to some positive steps taken by the Government, at least on records, many farmers regained some land properties after land law was promulgated. However, unfortunately these plots of land are still in the possession of our family.

My father was the only son with five sisters of my grandfather, but my father had three sons and one daughter. I was the youngest one amongst the children.

Now, my father’s land property has been divided into two parts-between my two elder brothers as I opted out from taking any land property from my father.

Being the youngest, not only I was loved by my two brothers, Bibekananda and Paramananda and by my elder sister, Karabi but also they treat me as a small kid throughout my life. Even at the age of fifty seven, they advise me as a little brother who is unaware of complexity of cruel life. My only sister, Karabi treated me as if I was unable to decide what to wear after my bath without her guidance till my marriage. They always wonder how I could live so many years in college hostels in Guwahati and Delhi and later on, in a one room apartment in New York City.

True, I was different from my brothers in many ways. I was studious and polite to everyone, even to our servants. On the other hand, in their youthful days brothers used to beat up somebody within or outside our home only for fun. During my school days, I saw my father as an angry middle aged person. Except my mother, nobody had the guts to discuss with him anything. The villagers were afraid even to lodge a simple complaint against the tyranny of his two sons before my father. Having no alternative, some of the victims used to tell about the misbehaviour of my brothers to my mother. However, most of the victims preferred not to complain against them to anyone.

One day my mother decided to rein my brothers by discussing the matter with my father. My father, after hearing the complaints of the people through my mother commented, ‘It is nothing unusual about our family. I was also like them till I got married to you. Let them enjoy their life now. After their marriage they will also realize their responsibilities. Everything will be OK in due course of time. Further, in future do not waste your and my time by discussing on such small issues. If someone complains against them, let him/ her talk to me. If at all, some problems come up, better solve those problems at your level itself.’

My mother, who happened to be a teacher in a middle level school before her marriage, could not pass on the message to my father, what was going on might not be good for her children. So far so good, which could be tolerated.

But one day, when a widow of our neighbouring village was weeping before my mother saying something in a semi audible voice, I saw my mother’s face became gloomy immediately. Out of curiosity and fear for an unexpected news, I tried to approach my mother, but my mother admonished me for trying to hear something which I was not supposed to hear. I left the place but from a hidden place, I tried to find out what was going on.

From my hidden place, I came to know that my eldest brother of 20, Bibekananda forcefully had a physical relation (clear case of rape) with the daughter of the widow who was complaining against my brother to my Mom. The girl was bleeding and was in a shock. My father was informed immediately and my father, this time called the local doctor hurriedly without losing any time.

He had a talk with the doctor confidentially giving some money and requested him to treat the girl immediately at her residence. Doctor followed my father’s instruction and the girl was treated without hospitalization. The widow was also given money for shutting her mouth albeit with a stern warning not tell anybody. No FIR was lodged in the police station as all the police men used to get loyalty bonus on each and every festival from our family, according to their position.

By the time, my brother fled to our maternal uncles’ place, some hundred KM away as per the advice of the SHO. He returned only after two days when he got an ‘all clear’ message from my father. Nothing had been reported to the police by the widow also. Prestige of the girl was bought and sold by the respective parties as law of the land remained as a mute spectator.

When my brother, Bibekananda came back, my father called him to his study room and slapped him for his misdeed. Then he gave a bizarre advice to his son, ‘In future nobody should come to our residence with such type of silly complaints. Now you are already 20 and you should behave responsibly. In fact, I do not understand how you allow them to come to your mother with such a complaint. Always remember, nobody should dare to come to your mother with such complaint in future, even if you do those silly things to these lesser human beings! Understand? Sooner the better; you better understand.’

In all practical purposes, my father did not say anything to him for not repeating such type of crimes but advised him to threaten the victims of dire consequences if they dare to report his crime to someone else in the family or elsewhere.

I am told, he took my father’s advice, religiously and repeated ‘that silly things’ to many unwilling girls and threaten the victims with dire consequences if anyone dare to report someone else. As I understood, none could muster the courage to report those crimes to anyone else. I was informed by my friend Kandarpa that my brother Bibekananda did all those ‘silly things’ till he got married to a very strong personality, my elder sister in law, Namita Bau.

My next brother, Paramananda after attaining the age of eighteen followed the footprints of his elder brother, Bibekananda. He was always one step ahead of his brother, Bibekanand; he started the ‘silly things’ with any girl only after he used to pronounce his threat to the victim well in advance. Therefore, there was no excessive bleeding, no complaints from any of those victims. Probably, the victims follow the one of the most infamous proverb, ‘if rape is inevitable, you better enjoy it.’

My sister, Karabi was equally arrogant and abusive to our servants and agricultural labourers.

Initially, all of them tried to mould me into their frames. But after some time, they realized, I could not be moulded like them. They realized, I am like my mother with whom my attachment was more in my early part of my life. Gradually, my father liked to spend more time with me and he became friendlier to me, what was completely missing for my brothers and sister. I am always thankful to my brothers and my sister, they had never envied me on that account; rather they also loved me more and became very protective about me. Their behaviour towards me was like, a little toy (not a boy) which can do no wrong, no harm and he cannot be a threat to anyone, which can only be adored, loved and played with!

I grew in the protective umbrella of my brothers within and outside our home. I still remember one incident of my early school days. When I was in class IV, one of my classmates teased me, ‘In your family, there are two brothers and two sisters, is not it?’

I corrected him by saying, ‘No, we are three brothers and one sister.’

With a teasing tone he commented, ‘You are also a girl in your house. Is not it? Ha ha ha!’ All my classmates also started laughing.

I became very angry but instead of hitting him, I cried loudly. Within few minutes, my brothers, at that time, one was in Class Ten and one was in Class Seven, came to know about it. Within another few minutes not only my classmate who teased me, entire his relatives in the school were beaten up by my brothers and their friends. My classmate was forced to kneel down for the whole day holding a play card with a caption, ‘I am not a boy; I am a girl!’ None of the teachers intervened! Some of the boys of my class who laughed at me, were crying out of fear though none of them was beaten up. On the same evening, the father and other relatives of the family of the boy who teased me came to meet my father to tender their unconditional apology on behalf the boy. That was the clout, my family used to enjoy in my ancestral village and surrounding areas!

I need not have to tell that for the next six years in my school nobody had dared to tease me again. As I grew up, clout of my family had increased only. Earlier, all the Government officials who were in the pay roll of my father, used to send their servants to collect their bonus from my father, now they come to collect by themselves which were