Indu's Home-Coming and Other Stories

By Durgaprasad Mishra

Indu's Home-Coming and Other Stories is a fiction book written by 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Rose Publishers
• Release date: Feb 24, 2024

Book preview

Indu’s Home-Coming

It was nearing three O’ clock in the afternoon when she got down from the bus. Although it was the month of March, piercing sun- rays had kept that rural market, which grew up surrounding the bus-stand, totally stupefied. During the whole day, only five to six aging buses ply without sticking to any fixed time schedule.

On one side of the black-top road are one beetle-shop, one tiffin stall and another tailoring shop. There is also Lord Shiv temple prominently visible among the spread-out of a big banyan tree, bel trees (Aegle Marmelos) and a few cocoanut trees. In front of the temple is a large cement-floor pandal. Entertainment programmes like Pala are performed during Shiv-Ratri (a festival held annually in honour of Lord Shiva) festivals.

On the other side of the road are a few thatched-roof small shops including tiffin stalls and a ready-made cloth store. It is that familiar ambience – a spiritless, tired, indifferent, and reluctantly running business environment with that apparently intimate bus- stand. Somewhere it had been snapped, somewhere it was getting stunted. Over and above such condition of shops are a dying or about-to-die tendrils of bottle-gourd and pumpkin creeper plants – all those combined, existed that rural bus-stand – a frequently visited place of utility.

On this side at this very place Gajalaxmi Puja is celebrated. The deity is worshipped on a seat of decorative platform. A framework of an arch shaped dazzling art work behind her gives an impressive look. The roof is covered with tarpaulin on the bamboo frame fixed firmly with a good number of poles. Music blares from loud-speakers day in and day out, for twenty-four hours. The pandal is lighted with various colourful lichi-bulbs which become the centre of attraction for the general public. Additionally, the pleasant smell coming from the vast paddy fields that run up to the horizon from that place gives rise to immense expectations.

She used to visit this place along with so many others bringing with her enormous enthusiasm and loquaciousness. That time she was an adolescent girl with an exuberant heart, filled with the kind of romance and thrill which were beyond definitions. While standing here inside the crowd she used to think that life was an extensive endless festival devoid of any nervousness. The sentimental fragrant green crop ripens here surrounding the pandal of musical heart.

While throwing a few intimate glances all around, the whistle blew and the bus rolled forward leaving behind some smoky roars. The passenger who had got down from the bus along with Indu, put his cycle on its stands. He swiped the dust from his pant and shirt and while humming some popular song combed his hair. Next his cycle rolled on that black-top road.

Indu stood by the side of the road for some more time. She was holding her two-year old daughter close to her bosom. An ordinary bag was hanging from her other hand. Once again, she swiped her cursory glances all over those apparently not-so-important areas. All her entire sorrows, deficiencies, and deprivations had lost their relevance during those ecstatic moments. Some green memories came floating to her carrying along with it the sentiments of an intimate embrace. Its greenery smeared over the dry ambience of the month of March. Oh! How wonderful!! Those memories abundantly possess great inherent divine power. The repetitions of those dreams push life to proceed on the uneven thorny path of ups and downs.

Should at all those pleasant days return? Indu asked herself – Will the past come back? She had been coming to witness the Pala and Laxmipuja on foot for almost two kilometres and used to mingle in the boisterous crowd. Can she get back the same thrill of yesteryears? Where have those sweet days vanished? Walking along with a few friends for two kilometres to this market, visiting some other villages to witness Rath yatra (Lord Jagannath’s car festival), Dol yatra in some other village, Opera and Raja-Doli in yet some other village used to be pleasant diversions in life.

Those rare but unforgettable moments – Shantanu Bhai (brother)’s stealing of glances, looking for opportunities to kiss and embrace secretly, the sweating body, pushing of chocolates into the mouth, promises and commitments suddenly flooded Indu’s mind. She was of course feeling ecstatic on merely meeting of their eyes; a feeling of fragrance-filled, colourful, arrogant, and throbbing heart on the one hand and frightful, squeezed, and scared to the heels on the other hand were too romantic to be forgotten. She used to sweat with a tingling sensation. The eyes used to feel heavy with the weight of dreams. The air she had been throwing out through her nostrils was so warm and the feelings were so stimulating that the body soon starts aching. Indu was getting overwhelmed with a flood of memories. She seemed to have traversed down the memory lane to feel the ecstasy of those rare years within some few moments.

The daughter taking rest on Indu’s chest started crying and did not stop. Indu understood that she was feeling thirsty. She proceeded to the nearest tiffin stall. She could not notice any changes to have taken place in that shop during the last three years, since the time she had left the village. Some tea-glasses, after they had been used, were lying on a rickety table. The kettle was there placed near the fire that was gradually going to be extinguished. The owner of the shop with his huge belly was snoring lying on a bench. The helper was smoking bidi while sitting on a truck placed nearby. Indu stood there and grinned slightly. She expected that the man would stop smoking and with the feeling of someone known or someone dear would ask Indu about her well-being. He might also ask her as to when would she come to the village next. He would further express his concern that Indu had lost her health and complexion within only three years.

No, nothing of that sort happened. The man yawned after shifting his gaze from Indu. He then shook the kettle to find out whether there was any tea left in it. All those flows of sentiments which were trying to come to the open from inside Indu’s heart were buried inside her. Indu also withdrew the smile she had exhibited a while ago.

That man of course extended a glass of water to Indu mechanically and indifferently. Indu then stepped on to the moorum road to proceed to the village. A narrow canal which runs alongside the road had knee deep water in it. There were scattered unknown plants and trees to the other side of the road. Having lost their greenery because of the month of March, those were looking dusky.

That delight and heart throbbing vibrations which had kept Indu’s body and mind under their grip for some moments earlier at the bus-stand had already vanished like a small shower losing its identity amidst a dry and harsh land area. Now she came under the grip of an apprehensive palpitation and fast-paced her footsteps. She was not conscious at all that she had been almost rushing breathlessly to reach her mother’s place by carrying the load of a bag in one hand and holding the baby closely on her chest by the other.

The road was relatively empty with one or two cyclists and a few pedestrians. At places few boys were busy in fishing from the canal waters. Often Indu was scanning over such enjoyable scenes of the kids playing in water, but because of her anxiety she was not able to fix and reflect on any activity of the boys. That the people of this locality would welcome her with a lot of enthusiasm now that she had come from her in-law’s place to her own village after a long gap and they would vociferously narrate the vacuum created by her absence from the village – all the hopes and perturbations were turning to be myths.

Indu was strongly feeling that only that woman was dear to her. On getting the news of her illness she has travelled such long distance to her village. The only crisis was her mother’s illness. Thirdly, her recovery was the only prayer for Indu. All other pre- occupations of her mind besides those three truths were all deceptive, just like the unknown address of the co-passenger who got down at the bus-stop along with her. The snoring of that shopkeeper was a lie. Further, Shantanu Bhai’s repeated persuasive promises were also lies. All those plans and dreams of yesteryears were lies. Indu was panting because of her anxiety-filled quick steps. The distance of two kilometres seemed unending. Only the palpitations and anxieties were on the rise. She could visualise two expectant and helpless eyes. The illness of her mother, it seemed to her, had already made the sensibility of this locality paralytic and devoid of sympathetic smile.

Those depressed thoughts made Indu’s heart shrink. She felt terrified and felt that even though she had already come through an unending distance, yet she had to continue to walk for an uncertain period. But even after that those two kilometres might remain uncovered. Her perplexed impatience was rising. She had been clutching her daughter tightly on her chest. She got a feeling that two hands, which were shaking beyond control were extending towards her from a long distance in order to hold her hands. Next moment those two long hands were turning worthless and motionless, out of the frustrations arising from the failure to touch her hands.

Indu’s mother was a thin and weak woman. She was wondering, how could her mother spend those three years after her marriage within a cold world devoid of any thrill or sensation? But, the only aspect of her mother’s ability which gave Indu consolation was that her mother, whom she had so long seen used to be a capable and busy woman until Indu’s marriage.

Indu’s younger brother Shankar was working in some hotel in the city so that he could earn something. Last time when he came to the village, Indu’s marriage had been fixed and was scheduled to be solemnised only after a few days. But Shankar left the village for the city before the date of marriage. On being persuaded to stay till the date of marriage, he informed that he had to join as a truck helper which could not wait for him. Shankar could not participate and help in his Nanee’s (elder sister is addressed as ‘Nanee’) marriage function for fear of losing the job to someone else.

Indu recollected his brother saying – Let me join my job first and I will see if I could come to attend your marriage. But, where is he now? Does he often come to the village to see his mother? Does he send any letter or money to Maa (mother) for her expenses? Indu does not know anything about that. Maybe she would collect all information from Maa. Indu knew that they had got a small landed property from which they were getting rice as a produce. As it could not be managed by Maa, the land was given to another farmer on annual rent.

A voice came floating from a distance – Would it be proper to continue to watch the gradual death and destruction of this property just because Shankar was not looking after me? How can I see to its ruin? To which graveyard or crematorium should I go after that? Am I going to decorate myself with the silk sarees purchased with the money from the sale proceeds of Shankar’s paternal property? It is better to live with the trouble of taking right care of Shankar’s land than to enjoy the sale value of the land which ultimately would go to him. Somehow or the other I am passing my days. I am staying in Shankar’s house. I will pass my last breath in this house; in Shankar’s house. Does anyone think that life would have been more pleasant than living and dying in my son’s house?

Indu was able to hear that sick and quivering voice. That might be some pseudo voice, error of her perception. But she was able to hear once again the same desperate shaking voice – Indu, hey Indu! Come, come on quick. Oh, my dear mother (the girl child is affectionately addressed as ‘mother’), come quickly. I will not care for hundred deaths if I see you for once only, before I leave this mortal world. This voice which seemed to be wailing in wilderness was devastating. That was an eternal voice, everlasting and widely spread out. That had been imprinted permanently on the body of the wind and in the vast expanse of the sky.

Has any mishap taken place there? That fear gave a feeling of its reality. Indu felt breathless and tense. She was unaware as to what was she doing in a blind-alley? Once again, those scenes were presented before her – She could see a frail woman sleeping in deep slumber supposedly till eternity. She was surrounded by some men and women who probably knew that this woman was not going to wake up from her sleep. After that was confirmed, she was carried over to be placed on a funeral pyre. The funeral pyre was put on fire in the crematorium. Within a few moments the body of flesh and blood were transformed into ashes.

Indu could not proceed further out of nervousness. She stood still to take some deep breaths. She had been completely wet by that time from profuse sweating. Palpitations were running high and she was feeling vibrations in her chest. Without being conscious of her physical state she looked at the baby who was then crying non-stop. The baby’s cry permeated her psyche and she also burst into loud cry. She forgot that she had already become a mother. She only understood that she had turned into a mother- less child by that time. She was unable to play that dual role of a mother and a mother-less daughter.

Well, let it happen what was destined to happen. There was no control over such eventualities by the daughters; ‘Indus’. Therefore, she started walking slowly in a mood of pure surrender before her fate. She did not even try to pacify or console her crying-baby.

Indu finally entered the village after walking for, maybe so many years. She stood by the side of the mango tree without looking at anybody nor trying to recognise anybody. The calf that had been tied to the guava tree, that had grown by the side of the fence was chewing the grass-cud in a nonchalant manner. Underneath the jack-fruit tree which had bumper fruits like every year, hanging from its branches, two street dogs were rolling one over the other with full amusement. Now the position of the house became too clear. Maa was sitting there on that lonely veranda. With her frail and indifferent health, she was eating something from that aluminium bowl.

Indu would not have been so delighted even if she had been offered the entire Universe. She would not have been so obliged even if all her lost and dead plans would have been realised by some divine power. Maa had not only survived, but apparently, she had recovered from her illness. Maa was observing the lost scenes of the world for unusually long period with amazement, now that she had returned to its fold.

Indu came near. She gazed at her mother as if she had been looking at one of the brightest unbelievable scenes. Instantly, she felt within herself an unprecedented festivity. Her nostrils and lips started quivering all on a sudden. Her face brightened from that intensity of fulfilment and delight.

A calm, quiet and easy flowing voice was heard – "Did you reach just now, my dear mother (affectionate address to a daughter)? How could you come all alone from such a long distance? Well, why are you standing there? Go inside and change your clothes. Some Pakhala (stale watered-rice) is there in that earthen bowel. Give me your daughter. She must be feeling hungry. That is why she has been crying."

Indu’s daughter was crying for long being totally perplexed and by that time she had become too tired. Indu went near the veranda after dislodging her daughter from her arms. In place of touching both the legs of her mother and bowing in a gesture of Pranam (respect), she hugged her mother. Indu was passing through such a stage of ecstatic feeling that she would have lifted a mountain, not just her mother only. Indu had already caged her mother inside her chest. Additionally, she had even lost her existence within her Maa’s chest.

For a few moments Indu could not feel her existence. It seemed as if the surrounding world had come back to her after it had undergone a transformation of a worthwhile gift. She had awakened to the justification of the world and its environment. She had also received the golden feeling of being a woman. After some moments she raised her head to give a searching look to her mother’s bewildered and euphoric expressions. She would not have properly framed up the language through which she would have expressed that huge fulfilment and ecstasy. She only wished to transform herself into a two-year old daughter, trying to hide herself inside Maa’s saree after having played in dust and being smeared with dust throughout her body, while at the same time crying loudly.

Four to five women of the Sahi (lane) visited Indu’s house to greet her and they left after half an hour. Once again silence prevailed in the house. Indu opened her bag, remembering something suddenly. She had brought with her ten- or twelve Arisha Pitha (a kind of pan-cake popular in Odisha), one of her Maa’s favourites, approximately one kilogram of Chuda (flattened rice), some pickles and two dozen ripe bananas along with her.

I am not feeling hungry now; I will eat them in the morning.

- Indu did not listen to Maa’s resistance. On her insistence Maa took two Arisha Pitha and one banana. Indu noticed that the day- light was gradually surrendering before the ensuing evening and darkness. She took the cow which returned along with the herd after grazing, to the cow-shed and tied it to its assigned post. She swiped the floor which was looking dirty and was littered with rubbish. She converted herself to an unmarried girl of the house.

Indu’s heart was filled with hopes, fear, suspicion, and eagerness for Maa. That feeling of anxiety had been replaced by the pleasures of losing herself among euphoric fulfilment. For Indu, life and the world seemed to be devoid of any crises and turmoil. That uncertainty and helplessness had been lost inside an eternal peace and stability. She had never had any occasion to shower that much of her affection to her house, village, and the world. Despite all the unfulfilled wants, she acknowledged her obligation towards her fate, the extent to which she had never acknowledged earlier.

Indu had noticed that the straws of the thatched roof had decayed at several places. Next day she got the thatched roof repaired with the help of two labourers. Got the surrounding bamboo fencing of the house renovated and strengthened. The house looked more confident in the evening. Indu looked at her Maa and at the house repeatedly with tremendous satisfaction. Everything looked encouraging and safe like that of the womb of a mother.

Tuni Maushi (mother’s sister) invited Indu for lunch the next day. Her eldest daughter was born-blind. She was sitting on the veranda by leaning against the wall, as it used to be her usual practice. A small portion of the wall had become oily out the daily rubbing of the hair against the wall. Once she heard Indu’s voice, her eyelids started vibrating, like the cloth covering a dead body start shaking with the slightest wind. "Nanee (elder sister), give me your daughter; let me give her an affectionate hug." – She said with joy.

A dream which was beyond the reach of that girl was getting actualised. She took the baby on her laps. She stroked the kid’s entire body with her lean and thin hands. Although the kid was crying, she kissed the girl’s cheeks, her belly, and her feet.

Tuni Maushi listened to the stories of the hard life that Indu and her husband had passed through recently with sympathy and eagerness. That happened when they had gone to a far-off city to work as labourers on advance payment basis. They had to labour hard, but the income was paltry, not commensurate with the labour they had been giving. They were able to return to their village from that far-off city with too much difficulty.

--"Now I come to realise Maushi that poverty will never leave us anytime. That is an unavoidable eventuality of life. Indu stated with a grave expression. She added – My husband had been adopted as a son by his Mamun (mother’s brother). They had very small landed property and therefore both of us put in hard labour. Whatever we earn is of course sufficient for meeting our requirements of food and clothing. Who knows what is there in store for us in future?"

That day by three p.m. Indu reached Hari Dada’s (Uncle) house. She spent her time with three daughters-in-law by playing Ludu, chit-chatting, merry-making, and gossiping about her adolescent period. The games and merry-making were followed by tea and Mudhi (puffed rice). She observed that no discord had arisen among the three daughters-in-law yet.

At around five O’ clock Indu took leave of them to return to her house. The same old complain – All the daughters-in-law stated that Indu had come to the village after a gap of three years. How come she will go back tomorrow, without spending some more time in the village? The same old explanations follow – My husband is alone there. We must go to work and as you know we are poor people, etc.

On the way back to her house Indu stood still in front of Shantanu’s house. A hot wave rose from her legs up to her head as soon as she stood there. She felt rapid palpitations in her heart and her throat dried up. She knew that it was not a feeling of thirst that could be quenched by drinking water. Drops of sweat started flowing from her face through her body. Painful sentiments and the resultant failure manifested themselves in the release of long breaths. Her eyes got moist.

In the meanwhile, Shantanu had made good progress in life. He was managing a grocery store by the time Indu had left for her mother-in-law’s place. His earnings had risen which was evident from the bike that had been parked with splendour under the mango tree. The other testimony to his financial wellbeing was that the foundation plinth of the new house was being dug and the bricks had been stacked nearby.

What was heart-rending in those scenes? Indu could hear pitiable wailing from her heart. She got separated from all the realities of life within some disobedient and stupefied moments, although she was holding her two-year old baby in her arms. A dream that had deceived her during her youth made her helpless.

Further, Indu was feeling an uncontrollable and probably some impractical attraction which came floating from Shantanu’s house. That magnetic invitation was striking her legs for which she was not able to proceed further on her path easily. She continued to stand there unmoved. For a fraction of a second, she felt tempted – should she go to meet Shantanu Bhai in his house?

She wondered whether Shantanu Bhai still remembers her often? Whether he is going to be garrulous in over-flowing euphoria on seeing Indu after such a long gap? What would Indu receive in exchange; an intimate embrace or an intense kiss? Is he going to announce that eternal promise that I love you Indu? Now Indu slowly proceeded on her path like a frustrated beggar returning empty handed from the richest door.

Indu could not visit Shantanu. She was thinking over that disappointing issue and was squirming in pain. What were those feelings of hurt sentiment she realised agonisingly? She was burning within her. She had to wipe her tears too often. Indu had come to her house two days before. Was it not known to Shantanu Bhai? Being too sentimental Indu imagined – ‘He would come to her in some lonely moment like before; he would invite her by indicating through his pseudo cough; he would be waiting for her with excessive anxiety and perturbation while it was her time to go for bathing in the nearby village pond.’

When would you believe me or my words? I am waiting with bated breath only in order to listen this much from you. As soon as I heard that you have come to our village all the saleable items of my shop, my bike, the mirror, all my wisdom, my influence, and my bravery have turned worthless. All those turned into sweet memories and lovable experiences. I have got a wife and a child also. In comparison to this fulfilment – to hold you in tight embrace on my chest being too cautious of the surroundings was too great a feeling and used to give a feeling of pride even if that moment used to be too short. Tell me once only that I come to your mind and memory too often. I know, if I hear this much from you, the heaven will come down to my fist.

Indu had not met Shantanu and how could she hear those sweet nothings from him? Maa has recovered and is doing well. She felt the desired fulfilments on observing that her mother has recovered. Indu was not able to think further that there was any greater and comprehensive satisfaction than that. Now she has been thinking differently. Is there anything known as complete fulfilment in life? There is emptiness everywhere. Which bounty fulfils the vacuum and to what extent it is filled is difficult to make out. This again is always questionable. Everything seems to be broken, snapped, and full of long drawn sighs.

Indu informed that night when both of them were taking their super – "Maa, I will return tomorrow." That was both an information as well as seeking her mother’s permission.

--Tomorrow? Will you go back tomorrow? Maa was not prepared to believe which she heard just then. The fist-full of rice which she was about to put in her mouth stayed there hanging, in between the bowl and the mouth.

--"I do not have any choice, Maa. Indu expressed her helplessness. She said – Your son-in-law is regularly getting engagements for work at someplace or the other. Therefore, he could not come here along with me. I alone am sufficient to raise crops from the small patch of land near to our house. After I reach there tomorrow, the thatched roof will be re-laid and the fencing surrounding the house would be repaired. If I delay in returning, he will face difficulties in arrangements of his food etc. If it would be convenient for both of us, we might come to you during the coming Raja festival (a festival in Odisha observed with the onset of the monsoon, which continues for three days).

Maa did not tell anything. Indu was her only daughter. It was painful for the mother to hear about her daughter’s poverty-stricken life. Maa’s eyes got laden with tears. She looked the other way, lest the situation might go out of control.

He would be like a brother; a boy from the Sahi stays with them in their house. He cannot speak, a deaf and dumb boy. He is also not very clever and his understanding is too poor. But all the same he does all the odd jobs of the house and obeys normal orders. He is also a trustworthy boy and stays in their house.

Indu became too sentimental. That chocking feeling of extreme helplessness shook her beyond her tolerance. She thought of telling her Maa – Why should you stay here alone and unnecessarily drag your life through so much of uncertainties? Come along with me. We will manage to run our lives with whatever are there in my house. If nothing else, I will massage your hands, legs, and body whenever you fall sick.

Indu could not open her heart before her Maa. She felt bewildered with extreme helplessness. She and her Maa fixed their gaze on each other for quite some time. The silent unspoken thoughts of the one was getting clearer, distinct, and loud to the other.

The next day after finishing their lunch, Maa combed Indu’s hair and tied the knot to make a nice chignon. Indu had planned to move out at around two in the afternoon. Maa spoke out her feelings – Both of you went to some distant place leaving your village to earn money. But here I was almost dying a thousand deaths. You came to see me, but I would have been overjoyed if I had the opportunity of meeting your husband this time.

Indu took some time to speak out. She said – He is poor, but a very nice man. When he heard of your ill health, he sent me immediately to see you. He told me further not to bother about his food and drinks. He is such a good man! He does not have a bike; does not have a concrete building. But when it comes to adopt humanitarian attitude to life problems, nobody will be able to come near him in comparison.

All those pent-up frustrations and bitterness which were killing Indu from within were removed with this much of open expression. The next few moments were spent in silence. What more were expected to keep the conversation going? Now it seemed that everything had come out in the open and known to each other.

When they reached the end of their village, Indu said – You better return from here. Sick body. How long will you walk?

When Indu bowed her head to touch Maa’s feet, Maa replied – Let us proceed a little further. I am not uncomfortable. What should I do in the house if I return so early? I will feel lonely and hear the echo of your daughter’s cries too often.

Indu did not insist any further and brought her eyes back from Maa. Lean and thin body. She was looking like a casting in bones. Her lifeless eyes had sunken inside the sockets. Her cheeks also had prominent depressions. Greying hair had made Maa look older than she actually was. How was Maa gradually contracting all by herself and getting smaller and smaller? She would be lost after some time. Whenever Indu thought of Maa her eyes invariably get wet.

The baby was not crying. None of them was telling anything. Only the insignificant sound of their footsteps on the ground was being heard. The village had been left behind.

After a few more steps Indu advised – You have come such a long distance now; how will you go back on foot all the way? You will get too tired. You may return from this place.

Walking up to a long distance and getting tired from walking were unimportant for Maa at that time. Maa stated – Let us proceed a little further; up to that banyan tree.

Once again Indu fell silent. She had been holding her daughter in one hand. The bag was hanging from the other. Maa had pushed into the bag approximately eight kilograms of rice despite Indu’s protest. A bundle of drumsticks had also been pushed into the bag.

Indu was walking with her attention directed to reach the bus- stand as soon as possible. Nothing was there in her conscious mind other than Maa’s lonely future and her world of distressful wailing. She was not getting enamoured of Shantanu’s bike or the pleasures of life she had spent in the past and those sweet experiences of bygone days. All those had deserted her. Those were indication enough that life is a journey of ups and downs and none of those pleasurable experiences would continue for ever. If you go on ruminating over your past, you will be left with a feeling of pin- pricks every now and then and ultimately feel an emptiness.

They reached the bus-stand. It was pure love for each other that had filled their lives with exuberance. "Maa (Mother) had been walking such a long distance with the force of an unimaginable bond and enthusiasm; but all the same she was not at all looking tired. She persuaded Indu – Come, bow your head before Lord Shiva. Let the Lord take care of all your well-being."

Both stood by the side of the road waiting for the bus. Indu did not waste any time. She took out a one hundred rupee note which she had preserved for so long with a saree knot at the waist. She then pushed that note into her mother’s hands. She stated in a quivering voice while holding both of her Maa’s hands – See, do not refuse this money. Your son-in-law has given it for you. If you refuse to accept this, he would be very unhappy.

That was enough to bring tears to her Maa’s eyes. She of course did not fail to smile despite her tear-filled eyes. With the vibrations of an internal sobbing Maa’s smiling face got twisted soon after. She wiped her tears with the help of the corners of her saree and opened a knot from its edge. A one-hundred-rupee note was seen kept squeezed inside. She pushed the note into the hands of her grand-daughter and said – "Eat biscuits with this money, oh, my dear Bayani (affectionate address). Come, come to me. Let me give a last affectionate hug to you. I do not know whether I would be there to see you when you visit next."

Ignoring the cries from her grand-daughter Maa embraced her by holding her closely on her chest. She kissed the grand-daughter on her forehead and cheeks.

As soon as the bus reached the stop, Indu climbed on to it. After a brief halt, the bus rolled on and went out of sight. Maa looked like an unwise, foolish woman. She felt as if she had been lost in wilderness. She could not understand immediately as to what all happened to her then and there. She also failed to understand what had happened to her during the last few days. Slowly she became conscious of her surroundings. She could see the road leading to the village. She had that confidence in her that she would be able to go back to her house without much difficulty. She would then continue to stay within her emptiness. She would fall ill and would get well. She might come several times in future to accompany Indu up to this bus-stand and to this market place.

(Translated from the Odia story "INDU GAONKU ASITHILA")

Gopapura

What is happening now-a-days has become difficult to understand. It so happens that when you reach your house, you surprisingly come to know that a terrible setback, small or big, has been waiting for you to unfold. In whichever manner you express your anxiety or distress, be it in the form of pampering or maybe in the form of begging for mercy, all immature and