Nandu

I was in my bedroom, studying for the upcoming Higher Secondary exams, when the phone rang. It was 6 o’ clock in the evening, and I was alone at home. I picked up the receiver.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello. May I speak to Ranjan Babu?”

The voice was that of a female. It sounded kind and cordial, a bit familiar, but I was not able to identify it. Somehow deep within me I was having the impression that this caller was some one I know. Yet my memory seemed to have got clogged with all these studies.

“Baba is not at home right now. May I know who am I speaking to?”

“You know me very well beta. Try to use your brains and you will realize who I am. Can you tell me when Ranjan Babu will return?”

“I am not sure, but he will be back by seven. But who are….”

Before I could again ask her for her identity, the line went dead.

This infuriated me. I didn’t like challenges. I knew Baba would chide me for shying away from mysteries and challenging stuffs, yet I couldn’t accept the fact that I was different. I had different likes and dislikes, well suited to a normal teenage boy in 2010. Gone were the days of traveling to different locales to unravel secret hideouts, and to solve mysterious cases. Baba narrated me several of his adventures which he, along with Felu Jethu and Jatayu Jethu, had undertaken. They were thrilling, but come on, you can’t expect me to do the same. There were more important things in life than to travel to Darjeeling and Gangtok to find a missing suitcase.

However, the mysterious phone call that I received today somehow managed to shake my belief. I was eager to know who the caller was, and why she didn’t tell me her name. There could be numerous reasons for that. Maybe she was one of my school teachers who wanted to let Baba know about my progress (or rather the lack of it) in class. I was not a bad student, but being the son of the great Tapesh Ranjan and the nephew of greater Prodosh Chandra Mitter, others expected more out of me. I try to give my best (not my best actually, but still I study for 6 hours a day), but the “best” always eludes me.

Baba promised to buy me a motor bike if I pass my Higher Secondary with a minimum of ninety per cent marks. Now marks don’t hang in trees, you have to work hard for it. I was a bit lazy, again a stark contrast to my father, and would have been contented with just a seventy in the aggregate. However, the temptation of a brand new Hero Honda was too difficult to resist. I had vowed instantly that I would score nothing less than ninety.

Hence, I have to study real hard.

I tried to shoo away the mysterious phone call from my mind. Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths, yet the image of the invisible lady kept lurking in the dark world that I created. She was wearing a white sari, and her hair was flowing over her face, masking her face. She was calling my name “Paritosh, Paritosh” in a shrill whisper, and was signaling me to come near her. I moved ahead and a gust of wind blew her hair not only from her face but also from her head. She was wearing a wig over her bald head. Her tongue rolled out and it started speeding towards my direction rapidly. It was too horrifying. I shouted with all my strength.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”

“What happened Nandu babu? Did you see a bad dream?”

I opened my eyes to see Srikant shaking my frame to raise me out of this stupor. Srikant was the son of our earlier cook Srinath, who had grown quite old now and was resting in his village at Behrampore. Was this all a day dream? Didn’t I receive any phone call? Was there no mysterious lady on the other end? I was relieved.

After convincing Srikant that I was fine and that it was only a bad dream, I got down to my books. Srikant went to the kitchen to resume his cooking when the telephone rang again. This time it sent a chill through my entire body. Was the dream not a dream? Did everything happen for real? Or was I still part of the nightmare? Nothing was definite. There were no answers, only strange unobvious questions that filled my brain.

I tried to console myself that this was probably a call from Baba, indicating that he will be late, or from Maa, as she had not yet called today. Maa had made a point to call me twice daily since the day she landed Pune. She was there to visit my Didi who recently got married to an IIM + IIT combo pack Pardon me for saying this so brusquely, but don’t the double degree sound respectful?

Anyways, the phone was still ringing, waiting for me to answer. Like a long lost lover it was drawing me towards itself. Finally, I picked up the receiver.

“He…Hello,” my voice shook.

“May I speak to Ranjan Babu?” it was the same voice.

“Baba is not at home right now. Please call later,” I spoke hurriedly and was about to disconnect the call, when suddenly she retorted “Wait!!!”

My blood froze, honestly. The voice, though that of a lady was so harsh, that it pricked my whole body and hair rose on ends.

“Who are you?” I tried to muster my courage, but my lame attempt was evident, as the strange voice started laughing.

“Ha ha ha. You have failed to identify me son. I do not want to speak to your father. I want you. There is a bond so deep among us that it transcends all boundaries. It’s deeper than the deepest ocean. Do you know what the deepest ocean in the world is?”

I didn’t know. I knew there were five oceans – Atlantic, Arctic, Indian, Pacific and Southern, but who cared which among them was the deepest. I had read it somewhere, perhaps in Geography in my junior classes, but I was still not sure of the answer.

“Is it Indian?” I tried to shot an arrow in the dark, but unfortunately it fell down flat.

“Wrong!!! The deepest is Pacific. Is this what you learn in school? I knew this world is not fit for you. You belong to a different world, you belong to me. I will make you a proper man. You are my son after all. I will take you with me now. Ha ha ha.”

The laugh was horrible. It sounded ghostly and evil. Even in this terrifying moment, my mind drifted to the cartoons I saw in my childhood. I was now able to relate the lady’s laugh to that of Skeletor, the villain in the He-Man series.

I knew I had to focus. I had to be brave. Whoever this was, she was definitely trying to frighten me. How can she say that I am her son when I don’t even know her?

“What are you thinking beta? I am your real mother. You were born as my son five hundred years ago, when fate played a cruel trick on us, and we departed. Didn’t u read about your father and uncle’s adventure in Sonar Kella? Rebirths do happen, and we are the living proof of that. I am now coming to pick you up. Mother and son will be reunited at last.”

With a click, the line went dead.

Fear turned to panic. What if that mad lady was really serious? What if she was coming to pick me up? I had to be alert. I was not alone; Srikant was there with me in the house. I walked into the kitchen to warn him about the impending danger, but he was no where to be seen. I searched the guest room, he was not there. I looked into Baba’s room, behind his book shelves filled with volumes of Sherlock Holmes adventure, and Srikant was not even there. I went through the other rooms as well, and to my horror, I realized that I was all alone in the house.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, and my body froze in fear. I became numb. My legs turned heavy, and I found it difficult to walk. The door bell kept on buzzing, and my eyes remained fixed on the gate.

“Open the door beta, I am here to take you with me,” it was the same shrill voice of the lady that I had heard.

“What do you want? Please go away,” my voice sounded completely different, and I wasn’t even sure if it was audible.

“Isn’t it your birthday today beta? Can’t a mom gift her only son by taking him away with him to their old home?”

How did she know about my birthday? It was eerie.

“I do not want to go. Please leave me and go. Go away please.” I pleaded.

I knew I had nowhere to run. There was only one exit from this house, which was the main gate, where that mysterious lady was standing. I had to wait for my father’s arrival. I gulped my fear, and waited, and waited.

Suddenly, the door knob rotated, and the door opened with a sudden flick. This was it. I had nowhere to go now. What will she do to me? Will she abduct me and demand ransom from baba, or will she simply take me away, never to return. I preferred the first option. Strange is the way how human mind function. When left with no choice, we simply try to adapt to the rough weather.

The door opened slowly, and what I saw left me aghast.

Two pair of legs entered through the door. The first one was wearing a white pajama, with a grey kurta on top. The second person was wearing jeans and a collared full sleeve shirt.

Suddenly the lady’s voice rang “Happy Birthday beta,” and to my wonder, it was from Felu Jethu’s lips. Felu Jethu looked dashing in his kurta pajama, while Baba, standing beside him in jeans and shirt, was clapping in delight.

I knew Felu Jethu could change his voice at will, but a live demonstration of this sort was not expected. Anyways, all’s well that ends well. Baba hugged me and said “We wanted to give you a surprise. Happy Birthday Nandu Beta.”

I was happy. My friends started pouring from the open door. They brought gifts for me, wishing me for the day as well as the upcoming exams. Felu Jethu gifted me a bound volume of Agatha Christie’s Detective series. However, the biggest surprise of the day was yet to be unraveled.

Baba took me aside and said “I have something for you. Go out and check for yourself.”

I went out and what I saw drew my breath away. It was a black Hero Honda bike. Baba put a hand on my shoulder from behind and said, “This is a birthday gift from me. I hope you liked it.”

Liked it? I just loved it. I thanked him innumerable times, and stood there gazing at the beauty. Baba had gone back in, and I too followed him to seek his permission to ride this bike for five minutes. I knew it was my party, and I had to be present as a good host, but I guess going away for five minutes will do now harm to one’s reputation as an amiable host. I managed to convince Baba, and jumping in joy, I started my bike.

This was turning out to be the best birthday of my life. First the fright, then came delight. I was amazed by Felu Jethu’s abilities to mimic in different voices. I knew he had other talents as well. I promised silently to read all the stories that Baba had noted down regarding their adventures.

My bike was flying on the road now, and I was elated. After going a certain distance, the engine stopped suddenly, and the bike came to a standstill. I tried to start it, but it simply refused arrogantly. I got down in quest for help. The streets were vacant, barring a few stray dogs. A few feet away I saw a woman sitting down on the floor, probably searching something. She was wearing a black sari, and her back was facing me.

I knew I had to help her, before asking for her help in return in finding a suitable person who can help me to start my bike. I sat down beside her, and asked “Is there something that you are looking for, Auntie?”

She turned towards me, and a mild gust of wind blew her hair on her face. The first words she spoke to me were, “You are my son. I have found you at last.”

I ran, leaving my bike behind.

THE END