The Curse of Damini

By Debajani Mohanty

The world seemed not enough for free spirited Renuka, when she married the highly educated Shashank hailing from the mightiest Zamindars of Bengal. However, soon her life turned upside down when a neighbor revealed her of their sinister past.

Its a mysterious supernatural curse cast on their family almost a century back. Generation by generation, Damini's enraged curse had passed on, declining their family clan from hundreds to a handful few. Who would be Damini's next victim? And why innocent lives are at a stake for a crime committed by an ancestor a hundred years back? Renuka would not settle until she finds an answer and in her quest she struggles to eradicate all the evils that come in her way. Would she ever win a battle against an unseen enemy? Would the wrong done to Damini be ever avenged?

Set against the nostalgic era of 1940s, the story narrates the arduous journey of Renuka Pal, the protagonist, from a rash teen age freedom fighter to the seasoned writer of the 21st century India. In this thrilling saga of death, betrayal and power plays the narrative would cover a large chunk of twentieth century history. The passing of time, historical events and the changing country is so well-woven to the story that one would hardly differentiate between fact and fiction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Jul 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781482851069

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Copyright © 2015 by Debajani Mohanty.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Contents

Acknowledgement

Characters

Prologue

Chapter 1 The Stranger

Chapter 2 The Shackles Undone! Really?

Chapter 3 An Eternal Bond

Chapter 4 The Pangs of Separation

Chapter 5 The Coming of the Mother

Chapter 6 The Last Victim!

Chapter 7 The Curse

Chapter 8 The Return

Chapter 9 Life Blossoms among Adversities

Chapter 10 God Created Man, and Man Created Gods

Chapter 11 The Dungeon

Chapter 12 An Apostle of Peace

Chapter 13 The Call of Duty

Chapter 14 The Voyage

Chapter 15 A Blooming Rose

Chapter 16 The Cuckoo Forgot to Sing

Chapter 17 The Lost Innocent

Chapter 18 Never Say Die

Chapter 19 An Altered World

Chapter 20 The Curse Returns

Chapter 21 Her Hell, Her Heaven

Chapter 22 Another Victim!

Chapter 23 God Helps Those Who Help Themselves

Chapter 24 Life with Strange Surprises

Chapter 25 Fallen from Grace!

Chapter 26 Life Smiled Back

Chapter 27 A Leap of Five Years

Chapter 28 A Leap of Ten Years

Chapter 29 Where Lightning Strikes

Chapter 30 A New Beginning

Chapter 31 The Face-Off

Chapter 32 The Flowers Bloomed

Chapter 33 Further Rise to Fame

Chapter 34 The Awakened

Glossary

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In loving memories of my grandparents…

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

G o strong my little girl, that you may still be unshaken when I am no longer ar ound..

Those were the words of my grandfather when he taught me riding a bicycle for the first time. My love for him would live forever, he however didn’t. The Curse of Damini is dedicated to my legend grandparents (my grandmother is still alive). Though a fiction, it’s based on many real incidents that I have heard from my grandparents, parents and many old ladies of Bengal and Odisha who were kind and open enough to quote me incidents from their deadliest past that covers partition, riots, child-marriage, widowhood and decades of turmoil in Indian history.

I am thankful for the artistic talent of Somnath Patra who designed the book’s cover. My regards to Kavita Bhanot for going through the manuscript at a very early stage and offering her invaluable feedback. I appreciate Siyahi for the brilliant editorial work on the manuscript to make it worthy for literature-lovers like you.

I extend deepest thanks to all those who offered the first indication that this was a rewarding story. I am thankful equally to friends and strangers who after reading excerpts, expressed eagerness to read the entire story and especially to Sudipto, Manjusha, Anjana, Ruma, Shilpa, Tulika, Bhumika, Hemant who promised to buy the first book. I acknowledge being blessed with the best husband on earth, my dear Dr. Rajul who throughout the past years has supported my quirks and adventures.

With love,

Debajani Mohanty

CHARACTERS

• Renuka Pal—the protagonist, a fifteen-year-old Bengali girl living in the eastern part of India in the year 1945, a freedom fighter

• Subhonkar Pal—Renuka’s elder brother, a freedom fighter

• Shashi Kanta Pal—Renuka’s father, landlord in Medinipur, West Bengal

• Sharda debi—Renuka’s mother

• Neeranjana ‘Neera’ Pal—Renuka’s kaki-maa

• Shibani Pal—Renuka’s elder sister

• Shashank Shekhar—Renuka’s highly qualified husband

• Nagesh Roy Chaudhury—Shashank’s father, Renuka’s father-in-law, landlord of Murshidabad, West Bengal

• Kamesh Roy Chaudhury—Nagesh’s late younger brother

• Naresh Roy Chaudhury—youngest brother of Nagesh

• Sutapa Roy Chaudhury —Shashank’s kaki-maa, Kamesh’s wife

• Lalit Roy Chaudhury—Shashank’s younger brother

• Papia Roy Chaudhury—Lalit’s first bride

• Ichamayi Roy Chaudhury—Renuka’s ailing stepmother-in-law

• Shantanu Roy Chaudhury—Shashank and Lalit’s younger male cousin

• Mandira Bosh Roy Chaudhury—Renuka’s childhood friend

• Deb babu—Mandira’s father

• Bhanoomati—Ichamayi’s nurse

• Anirudh Sarkar—well-known businessman of Murshidabad

• Sagarika maasi—a lady living close to Renuka’s maternal home

• Chhaya and Maya—maids at Roy Chaudhury mansion

• Catherine ‘Cathy’ Howard—Renuka’s writer friend in London

• Sulochana—an elderly courtesan

• Shyama—a young courtesan

• Azmal Khan—Shashank’s friend

• Ameena Banoo—Azmal’s wife

• Ashima Bhowmik—Shantanu’s wife

• Anupama (Anu), Nishant, and Nitin—Renuka’s children

• Tupur and Tapur Roy Chaudhury—Papia’s children

• Naren and Deben Roy Chaudhury—Mandira’s children

PROLOGUE

It was past midnight.

T he room was dark, except for a thin beam of light from a lantern that hung from the ceiling. With slow yet steady steps, the zamindar approached to pay his daily visit. He stared from a distance at the figure lying face down on the bare floor. The body lay still as if dead, yet he was sure that it was not.

‘Thakurji, it would be better if you left soon. She is no better than she was yesterday, and if she hears you here, it will get more difficult to manage,’ the attendant politely said. Knowing that Bhanoomati was not wrong in her assessment of the situation, he heaved a deep sigh and was about to leave when a demonic voice echoed off the rock wall, ‘Sobai morbe. Ami Sobai ke khete eschi. Amake Rokto chai. Rokto! Eii bonsho-er Rokto! Dite Parbi? Ha ha ha!’ You all will die. I have come to eat you all. What I need is blood. Blood! The blood of this family! Will you be able to give it to me? Ha ha ha!

CHAPTER 1

The Stranger

I t was January 1945, a chilly afternoon in Medinipur, the headquarters of southernmost district of undivided Be ngal.

Her thakur-maa used to call her Jugni (firefly), and that’s what she was. Green bangles jingled and jangled on her wrist. Dirt perpetually clung to her white sari. Her hair badly needed a thorough oiling and combing, and her muddy feet, a washing. She was running through the emerald-green paddy fields, her wild hair trailing behind like flames from a fire. She was running through the banks of the river Kangsabati, leaving behind clear footprints on the soft, damp ground. At fifteen years of age, she was small and petite, yet she had the grace and radiance of a lioness that even a stranger would notice from afar.

Renuka turned back to gaze upon her hometown, transfixed, as if trying to imprint it all in her memory. A little into the distance, houses, temples, and the whole of Medinipur were shining in the finest shade of gold. A warm yellow glow had canvassed the western sky as the sun god was lazily descending below the river Kangsabati. In half an hour, however, he would vanish from the line of vision, leaving her in a life of uncertain darkness. She knew not if her eyes would behold this beauty again. What she did know was what she had to do for her beautiful land, for her people, for them all.

A tiny ember of doubt flickered within her for a moment, but her inner strength promptly put it out. ‘An eye for an eye would make the whole world blind’ was one of Bapu’s teachings she deeply valued. However, her destiny had already been sealed. She had given her mates her word, and it was too late to take it back. She arrived at the determined spot, the premises of the primary school.

Vande maataram. Vande maataram. maataram.

Sujalaam Sufalaam Malayaj Sheetalaam

Sasya shyaamalaam Maataram Vande.

They were singing in chorus. The flame of patriotism was blazing in their eyes. The feeling of invincibility was dancing in their blood. ‘Do and die’ was their mantra.

The group was young, with hardly anyone aged over twenty-five years. Raising their right hands on the flickering flame of a centrally placed diya, the group continued the anthem. Renuka was the only female member and the last one to join their team.

A quick discussion followed. As usual, her elder brother Subhonkar Pal, whom they fondly addressed as Subho Daa, led the conversation illustrating each of their roles in a finer detail. They swiftly divided themselves into subgroups and moved towards their final destination.

‘Renuka,’ her brother called after her. ‘Take care of yourself, girl.’ He placed his hand on her head before departing. ‘Use your hair to cover your face so that they cannot see you.’ She heard her brother’s voice falter for the first time in her life.

‘Dada, I know that whatever the outcome is, some day it will do good to our people. I have no regrets, and neither should you. Vande mataram!’ she resolutely exclaimed.

‘Vande mataram.’ His gaze lingered on her for the next few seconds till she disappeared behind the thick walls of the school complex.

By the time Renuka reached the huge bungalow, it was sunset. As an avid admirer of Bapu, Renuka had always believed in his teachings of non-violence; however, it was her elder brother Subhonkar who was a diehard follower of the maha-nayak Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, the brave son of India. She was not entirely convinced about their current plan. The conversation she had had with dada that morning played back in her head.

‘Dada, do you honestly think we should do this? The Quit India Movement is already underway, and Bapu strongly opposes any atrocities against the British,’ she had urged.

‘I appreciate your affinity for peace, Renu. In fact, we are sorry to take the path of non-violence. We are sorry to shed human blood. However, this man is a party to the cruel, unjust, and most oppressive government in the world, the British Raj. It is our duty to eliminate him. Remember, dear sister, our lives have been dedicated to a noble cause. I hope you know that family ties and worldly attractions have never lured me. Had Father been alive, I would have joined the Azad Hind Fauj, and just like my other Indian brethren, I would have fought the enemy upfront. You should be proud to have been chosen for this mission, Renu. Since you are a young girl, you will rouse no one’s suspicion. Isn’t my little sister proud to support the great cause?’

Renuka examined the pocket watch in her hand. It was close to 5 p.m., and it was already dark. Her mind was on alert as she heard the sound of the approaching vehicle. The car slowed down as the durwan opened the giant gate in front.

This was the moment. Without wasting a single second, she waved to her mates lurking behind a tree at a distance.

Boom!

The distant gun roared, and the bullet hit its goal with perfection. The sound of heavy boots filled the air as guards from all directions headed towards the front gate of the bungalow.

‘Hey you! Stay right there!’ One of them barked at Renuka, pointing his index finger at her. Renuka took a step back, ready to flee if she had to. The very next moment, her entire crew began to drift in different directions. ‘Do not let them escape!’ she heard one of the guards yell. Renuka tightened her grip on the small bottle of cyanide in her right hand. They had pledged to consume the contents rather than be caught by the enemy to respect their dignity and safeguard the rest of their team members.

She half ran, half fell all the way, not knowing how long she had been running to escape. She was losing track of time and space, of any sense of direction or reality. The sound of the boots still followed her. Finally drained of all her energy and with her knees giving up, she entered the premises of a huge bungalow. Oh yes, it belonged to Sagarika maasi. She had been to this place the previous day to attend a wedding ceremony. Quickly she escaped to the rear part of the house, which seemed relatively lonelier. The garden was huge, and she tried to hide behind the tall kastandi bushes. A door nearby left half open grabbed her attention. Should she go inside? What if she was caught red-handed? In a small place like Medinipur, news as such would travel at the speed of light. No, she could not afford this; at no cost should her mother learn of her association with such objectionable activities. One of the guards was coming in her direction; she could see his back from her hiding spot. If he came a few steps closer, she would be discovered.

‘Maa Durga, please help me!’ Renuka prayed with all her heart. And then against her own will, she went inside, tightly bolting the door behind.

As her eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, Renuka found herself inside a partially covered indoor courtyard. With low-pitched roof covered with terracotta tiles, a tulasi-chawra at the centre, and many adjacent rooms, the house seemed pretty much similar to her own. She could see a dim lantern blazing in one of the rooms nearby.

‘Who’s there?’ someone said.

The tall outline of a man emerged from the flickering gloom. The little adventure had already drained every last drop of energy from her young body. Panting heavily, she tried to regain her composure. ‘No need to fear,’ her inner voice said, and as her clasp on the small bottle in her hand tightened, her resolve strengthened.

‘Who are you?’ The man had come dangerously close.

‘Mmmm … Please keep your voice low, or else they … they will come and find me,’ she mumbled.

The man went to the half-opened window and peeped outside. ‘Who are you? Why are these men after you?’ He lifted his voice this time. ‘You stole something, didn’t you?’

Suddenly he went inside the room to fetch the lamp, and the next moment, he was by her side again. Adjusting the flames, he stared back till they shone full on her. Now she too had a clear and complete view of the stranger. And what her eyes saw was quite contrary to her thoughts.

Shyamal complexion, a square clean-shaven face, and hair trimmed too short. His broad forehead shone with wisdom. Clad in a snow-white dhoti and light-blue kurta, the stranger seemed young enough to be around twenty. He was lean, with muscular shoulders and a slightly bigger frame than her dada, though still not very tall. He was certainly not the most handsome man she had come across; however, those charismatic, soulful eyes had a mysterious sadness in them that captivated her senses.

Those eyes radiated so many feelings—resolution, passion, detachment.

She held her breath. How had she never seen this man despite her frequent visits to the house and its surroundings?

The young man seemed to be equally transfixed on her. She could sense the pair of intense eyes keenly lingering on her. His gaze on her had held strong for long enough to bring a rosy blush to her soft cheeks. Remembering herself after an awkward pause, Renuka fought the urge to smooth her hair and to make sure she looked composed.

The stranger came back to his senses. ‘You … you seem to be from a good family. What’s your name?’ His voice was a little softer this time.

Renuka did not falter; her features remained taut and indifferent even as her body temperature rose. ‘I am just a fellow Indian, a fellow sufferer. My name does not matter,’ she said firmly with a proud air. The man was not to be trusted yet.

‘Hmm … so you are a krantikari, aren’t you?’ He rolled his eyes at her. ‘How old are you?’ Her silence fuelled his inquisitiveness. ‘You seem to be very young, not more than thirteen to fourteen years, I suppose.’

‘I am fifteen.’

‘Oh, pardon me, quite a young woman then—and a rather adventurous one at that. Barely fifteen years of age and already a freedom fighter. Bravo!’ He moved in closer. ‘So what did you do? Tell me.’

When she did not answer, he spoke again, his voice grim. ‘You stole something, didn’t you?’ She shook her head. ‘Wounded someone?’ His jaw clenched as a sudden realization dawned on him. ‘So you planted a bomb? Tried to kill some British folk? Oh god!’

Renuka remained obstinately silent. A full five minutes passed wordlessly, and then he spoke, breaking the silence between them again. ‘Come, sit down here.’ He fetched her a glass of water from a clay pot nearby, and she consumed it all in one go. ‘Did they get a good look of your face?’

‘I suppose not,’ Renuka spoke, her voice nearly a whisper. ‘It was dark.’

‘Good.’

The stranger disappeared into the room adjacent for a moment and then returned as quickly. He drew close to her and draped a huge cashmere shawl over her entire figure. They spent a few minutes in silence again, taking in the predicament and all that had transpired. Perhaps the inner cogs of the stranger’s mind were turning, and he was trying to think up his next move.

‘Cover your head and come with me. I will escort you to your home,’ he finally said.

And so they started their journey homeward in complete silence. The mild ringing of her silver anklets was the only noise to be heard.

On the chowk, there was some light as a local council worker was rekindling the flame within the lamp post. Two guards were on patrol nearby. One of them watched at Renuka with suspicion. Her heart beat against her chest, its thumping reaching her ears loudly.

‘Hello, mosai, where are you off to?’ the other guard asked the stranger.

‘Just strolling around. It’s nice weather, isn’t it?’ he remarked almost naturally.

‘Yes, of course. And who is the lady with you?’

‘She … is my relative.’

‘Relative?’

‘I mean my …’ He halted. ‘I mean, she is my wife,’ he answered, his voice firm.

‘Oh, wife. Mosai, a wife is much more than a relative,’ the guard said, assessing them.

‘Are you newly married?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, that explains it. Subha sandhya, mosai.’ Both guards smiled mischievously.

‘A good evening to you too, sirs,’ the stranger replied.

As the guards wandered off, the young pair was left to themselves in complete embarrassment and shame.

‘I am sorry,’ he slowly said, a little apologetically.

‘It’s all right. Please don’t apologize. You have saved my life!’

‘Why are you upset then?’

‘I am worried for my brother. I hope he is safe.’ Renuka’s voice was choked with concern.

‘So he is with you too? How about your parents? Are they aware of your involvement?’

‘I lost my father some time ago. My mother is not aware,’ she drawled.

They had reached close to Renuka’s house now, and suddenly street dogs gathered around and started barking. Renuka’s heartbeat quickened. Under no condition should she be seen with a stranger in the darkness of the night.

‘It’s all right. Hmm … you may leave now. I don’t want someone to see us together.’ Lowering her eyes, she offered her gratitude for all his help. ‘And thanks so much for all you have done for me tonight.’

‘Listen, miss. You have to be careful in the future. You are too young and naive to lose your life. If you want to do something for the country, you have to live. And you have to live long.’

‘Death comes but once, so why fear it? I don’t wish to live the life of a slave,’ she said, her eyes still rooted to the ground.

‘Then I’ll pray for you to live the life of a free soul.’

‘Goodbye.’

‘Goodbye and God bless you,’ he said, squarely meeting her gaze.

The stranger left her and stepped along the winding road ahead. She stood watching his fading figure, losing all thoughts on the dreadful incident that had occurred a mere few hours ago for her own safety and her brother’s, for almost every other living being on earth. She kept gazing at him till he vanished completely from her sight. She continued to stand even after she could no longer see him, for she knew that he was there somewhere within the foggy blanket of darkness that enveloped him.

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When she arrived outside her bedroom, she could hear a feeble sound from within. Could it be the sound of someone sobbing? No doubt it would be her mother; however, she had kept her voice low, making sure she did not wake up other members of the household. As she walked in, she found her mother lying in their four-poster canopy bed, surrounded by all her siblings. Renuka sighed in relief as she caught sight of her big brother. The next moment, all were by her side.

‘Renu, are you all right? Where have you been?’ her brother enquired in concern.

‘I am fine, dada. Maa Durga saved me today.’ She tried to placate all her family with reassuring words, narrating all the events of the evening, including her brief encounter with the stranger.

‘How could you do this, Renu? Have you ever thought of your unfortunate mother before taking such a step? What would have been my plight if anything had happened to either of you?’ Her mother