It's not just my only love story

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Copyright © 2020 by Bhubanesh Baisakha All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, optical, chemical, manual, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent of its copyright holder indicated above.

ISBN: 978-81-946506-3-8 Publishing Year 2020

Published and Printed by: Sankalp Publication Head Office: Ring Road 2 Gaurav Path, Bilaspur, Chhattisgarh – 495001 Phones: +91 9111395888 +91 9111396888 Email: [email protected] Website: www.sankalppublication.com ii

It's not just my only love story A flawed romance that lived

Bhubanesh Baisakha

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Content Sr. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

Title The Girl With A Baby Smile You, me and an accident Kiss of Thousand Illusions Locket In A Penguin Trashcan The Serious One Not School Anymore The Tough Tests Introduction To Graduation A Friend Request The Unconscious Self Not My Ride The Second Proposal The Good Lie The Time to Go Banaras, My Second Home It’s Only Me Broken, But Not Dead Inevitably yours

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Page 1 5 18 27 34 42 50 57 63 70 78 88 105 115 133 147 158 172

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It's not just my only love story

The Girl with a Baby Smile. Rome was not build in a day, but my love certainly did. A man with a thousand broken hearts, and unending, unfiltered tears in his torn eyes, always has a great story to say. It was the day of midwinter. No surprise why that day felt me like the shortest day of my life. In many cultures, midwinter which is popularly known as winter solstice marks the beginning of a new year. But for me it marked the beginning of a whole new life. It was a very usual morning till that magic happened. I was an average student of Grade seven, getting ready for my science exam at school. I in my school uniform, was carrying out my final revision, while I was waiting for my breakfast. I was very excited as it was my last day of examinations, after which the school would be closed for fifteen days for Christmas and winter holidays. I was eagerly looking forward for playing cricket in the morning and badminton in the evening with my colony friends during the holidays. I was well prepared for 1

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the test, at least that is what, I always believed irrespective of my grades. My mother, shailaija used to cook the best aloo parathas. She made three for my breakfast and packed two with mango pickle for school. Every morning in between seven and seven fifteen my school bus arrives. I had to walk about two hundred meters from my home in order to reach the bus stop to catch the bus. At the bus stop while waiting for the bus to arrive, me and my friend sunandan, talked a lot about sports, especially, cricket. We both were two big cricket fans. We both liked sachin, but within I was more fond of Rahul Dravid. He was a true gentleman. He was that kind of a person I basically wanted to be like when I grow up. The bus arrived. It was fully packed. Apart from a few seats which were left for girl students, there was no empty seat left. Their used to be a very funny yet valuable bus rule. Any student who does not gets a seat, and had to stand, he can hand over his school bag to the student who gets to seat. And more importantly, no girl gets to sand, and if there is a lack of seat for a girl student, then a boy student has to offer his seat to the girl, and the girl in return holds his school bag. Unlike most of the others, I kind of liked the rule. Standing in the bus, without the heavy school bag, gave me the freedom to observe everyone inside the bus, as well as to the people and shops at the streets. Like every other day, as there was no seats available, we stood holding the support bar, and gave our heavy bags to 2

It's not just my only love story

the girls, sitting next to us. I gave my bag to a girl who looked new to our bus. Apparently, she joined the school in midsession due her father‟s transfer which I didn‟t knew at that time. I even didn‟t know her name then. All I knew that she was in the same Grade as mine, as she was revising for the science test of Grade seven. She had a bob cut hair, in which she looked dam cute. she looked like a very serious and studious student. The one we call a book feeding insect or a nerd. And her round shaped eyeglasses added to her geek look. I realized that except for me and sunandan, everyone was busy preparing for examinations. Everyone looked tensed and stressed out. There was seriousness all around. Everyone was busy in carrying out last minute revisions. Observing them all we both felt the need to revise and discuss the subject again. We both now like others, began to discuss about what are the important questions, in which questions we can score well, which chapters we have left, and which are the most probable long and short questions. We opened our science book, and tried to revise like other students. But I have a situation. I find it very difficult to read in a moving vehicle as it makes me nauseous and it leads to severe headache. So we stopped the revision and began to crack jokes, mostly related to the things, we observed from the bus, happening out in the streets. I don‟t remember them now but trust me the jokes were great. I saw a few students listening to our jokes and funny 3

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conversation, and responding to it with smiles and laughs. Now they seemed relaxed. My eyes accidentally, went on to look at the new girl with bob cut hair who was holding my bag on her lap. The girl, whom I have never noticed before, had a adorable baby smile over her face. Her well brushed white teeth, her cherry like red lips and her pinkish white cheeks along with her water fall like glass eyes made that smile seem so real and angelic. I have never felt anything like this before. For me it was the smile of god. It was the smile to which I can keep looking till the time collapses, till the life ends, till the eternity dies. I don‟t know why, but it felt like the sole purpose of my existence, was to be the guardian of that smile, was to nurture that smile, was to take care of it, and just be the very reason of it. Till now I have never seen anything more captivating than her smile. It was the greatest magic. As she closed her science book, I saw her name written on the cover sticker. Shilpi Mukherjee.

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It's not just my only love story

You, me and an accident Love does not feels right without the playing of violin After that day, we kept interacting regularly. we began to pass smile at each other, whenever we made eye contact, be at school or at the bus. Our school hours used to start around eight thirty in the morning. About eleven we used to have a thirty minute recess break. The classes goes till two in the afternoon. I was in seven „G‟ and she was in seven „I‟. Seven „G‟ was the corner most class room of the third floor, where as seven „I‟ was the corner most room of the ground floor. It was really strange to have all the classes of a particular Grade at one floor, except for one. I never understood the reason behind it. With every passing day we became more and more close. Every day in the school bus, it became a ritual to stand near her seat and to give my bag to her which she used to keep on her lap. We became better friends. Meeting, talking and sharing our lunch box became a regular affair. Borrowing notebooks also became a part of our friendship. But as my handwriting was awful, she found it difficult to read my notebooks. In spite of the difficulty she continued to borrow my notebooks. Whenever she returned my notebook, she kept a 5

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friendly note inside my notebook, and whenever I returned her notebook, I gave her some chocolates. It was New Years Eve. The whole world was celebrating, and was in a joyful mood. It was the time to party and picnic. But unlike rest of the world, the situation at our home was not good. My parents have had a serious argument and fight which had something to do with my eldest sister Rashmi didi. she was pursing her B-Tech in electrical engineering from a reputed college. And my other elder sister prajakta didi was carrying out her Higher Secondary studies. Both of them were very bright at studies. I was the only one in my family who was not a brilliant student. And due to my lack of Academic achievements I suffered a hell lot of insults from our family friends, relatives, teachers who knew my sisters and even from my own parents. prajakta didi never insulted me, but Rashmi didi never left a chance to mock me, to make fun of me, and to criticize me. My father Mr. Amber kumar was an eminent physics lecturer. He was a very strict person. I was a complete disappointment to him. I never excelled in anything that he wished me to. I was always more into sports and dancing. I treated academics as a duty which I needed to carry out, as that is what I felt we were expected to do. I always saw myself as a sportsman, most likely a cricketer, like many other kids of my age, or a popular dancer and choreographer. sometimes I even thought of becoming an actor. I always believed that, in India 6

It's not just my only love story

at least once in their life time, may be even for a few seconds, the very idea of living a life of an actor must have crossed the minds of every person who lived in this country. I never saw myself doing something great in Academics or in any other profession that is more celebrated, accepted and respected in our society, like Doctors and Civil servants. Though my mother was a home maker, she was very well qualified. She was a gold medalist in biology, with specialization in zoology. But as happens in India, she got married to my father during her graduation final year. Later got pregnant with Rashmi didi followed by prajakta didi and me, within six years of marriage. Now she was a mother. Once a gold medalist in zoology is now only left with the identity of a wife and mother of three children. The role of the mother compelled her to sacrifice her career. she without any complain sacrificed for the stability of the family and took the major responsibility in her hands. Everyone in my family was into science. Other streams like Arts and commerce were not considered worthy of pursuing a career in it. The mindset was, only through science you can get to a good prestigious position in life. It is only through science one can excel in life and could have a good social status. But I differed from this collective opinion of my family. For them sports, dancing, painting are only for recreational purposes. But I had other plans. 7

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As I said earlier on New Year‟s Eve our family was not at all in a celebrating mood. In Indian family if the parents are in a bad mood, especially, the father, all it is expected from children is keep quiet, sit in your room and embrace the sadness and anger of your parents. I being the youngest member was only thinking about going out in the evening, eating pastry and kababs, and buying balls made up of rubber in order to play cricket with my colony friends. But nobody was interested in taking me outside and I was also not allowed to go alone. I was sad. All I did was opened my books, and pretended to study in front of my parents while I was in reality thinking about cricket. Around seven in the evening, my father‟s closest friend and my most beloved Narendra uncle visited us. He brought kaju barfi, my most favored Indian sweet of all. Soon, he got the true idea of our home atmosphere as my father got instantly busy complaining about his so called miserable life, how marrying my mother and producing three kids was his biggest mistake. How he should not have fallen in the trap of love, how he should have stayed bachelor and would have lived his dream life of becoming a popular political leader or a social worker. How he wanted to open an NGO, and help people, but after marriage he could not do these things as he had focus on earning a living and taking care of his family. My father‟s approach to life was simple, anything bad happened to him, even small things, even for the 8

It's not just my only love story

mistakes and bad decisions he made before his marriage he blamed his wife and his children. And every good thing that took place in his life was solely due to his efforts and intelligence. His approach towards the family issues and problems was also the extension of his approach towards his personal life. Everything good about his children was due to him, and anything wrong or bad with the children was my mother‟s fault. Later on in life as became more mature, and met different people from different parts of our country, I understood that, more or less it is the general mindset of the male section of our country, and most of them are not even aware of the irrationality of this mindset. From centuries this mindset has become a part of our culture, as no one has ever sincerely tried to change it for a better good. For a better society. I used to call Narendra uncle „kaka.‟ Kaka tried to ease things down, but with little success. I think he felt bad for me, sitting at a corner of the room trying to do my holiday homework, with a sad and pathetic face. As he was very fond of me, he asked me to go out with him. So, when kaka takes me somewhere, the permission of my father was never needed, as my father always saw him as his brother, and trusted him like family. I became very excited from kaka‟s offer. I quickly got ready and we were good to go. As we were about to leave, Rashmi didi my eldest sister, insulted me by saying you are not fit for our family, you are adopted, you don‟t belong here. Just go and never come again. 9