DEDICATED TO: SreshthaChatterjee8 and jimmyprotested29

"A stranger isn't necessarily someone you do not know. Sometimes, the greatest injuries are caused by strangers who tend to mask themselves behind deceptive facades.

'Et Tu Brute?' hurts the heart more than the pierced dagger that costs you your blood."

-Elegiac_Damsel

________

August 24

Third person's point of view:

It began raining when Mrinalini was on her way home, beginning with a mild drizzle that paved the way to a torrential downpour.

Carrying an umbrella had slipped out of her mind when she had exited the house. She clutched the burlap bag of vegetables tightly as the rain descended upon her. The velocity and intensity of the rain increased as did her speed. The visibility wasn't great and there were puddles on the pavement that had formed due to loose tiles creating depressions and voids that were now filled with muddy water.

By the time Mrinalini reached home, her blue kurta was sticking to her torso, while her white leggings had turned translucent, dark splotches marring parts of the soiled fabric. Her hair was wet and there was water dripping off the pasted strands that were plastered to her forehead and the back of her neck. Sweat and raindrops glistened on her skin as she ran her hand casually over her brows, in an unsuccessful attempt at wiping herself dry.

She brushed off the lingering raindrops from her palm before pressing her index finger to the switch and ringing the doorbell. Her sister-in-law opened the door for her, raising her eyebrows at Mrinalini's bedraggled state.

"Give me the bag, Boudi (sister-in-law). I'll keep it in the kitchen. You can freshen up and make some tea maybe? I just got back from college myself and..."

"I will be back in a while," Mrinalini said shortly, handing over the bag to Anumegha, glad to be relieved of the heavy burden

She stepped over the threshold, gingerly, wiping her feet on the doormat, frowning. It was only after she felt sure that her steps wouldn't leave muddy imprints on the tiled floor, did she proceed to go towards her room.

Debarghya was on a phone call when the door to their room creaked open. A visibly distressed-looking Mrinalini entered the room. He glanced at her, raising his eyebrows inquisitively, like his sister had, at her disheveled and unkempt self. He noticed the trail of water droplets that her soaked clothes had traced into their room. Her kurta was sticking to her bodice, clinging due to moisture. The muddy splotches on her feet and leggings caught his eye and he shook his head, in a disapproving notion. She looked at him and smiled slightly, abashed at his lingering, scrutinizing gaze.

"I'll be back." she mouthed, reaching for her towel which had been drying on the chair, next to where he was standing

He nodded before turning his attention back on the call, "Sir, how can it be my fault? I asked the stockists to send me the statements, they didn't. I..."

Mrinalini flinched as she heard the voice from the other end saying something incoherent, but sharp and rude. She caught Debarghya's eye as he removed the cell from his ear, letting out an inaudible, helpless sigh, his ears turning red in mortification. She turned away abruptly, sensing his discomfort and embarrassment.

Sighing at her appearance in the mirror, she cursed under her breath, before shutting the door to the bathroom and locking it. She had her disheveled self to deal with.

...

"What happened at the police station today?" Debarghya asked Mrinalini who was vigorously running a towel through the length of her hair, drying it

She looked at him through the reflection in the mirror, "I will speak to you about this later. I have to be in the kitchen now. Your sister wants some tea and I need to make dinner."

Debarghya made a clicking sound with his tongue and said quietly, "The household did function when you weren't around," he looked at Mrinalini who was a bit puzzled at the subtle statement, continuing, "You don't have to take up every damn job in here. I am sure she is capable enough to boil some water, add tea leaves, and then strain them. Ma enjoys cooking as well. I am sure she will be more than willing to..."

"I have never told anyone that the kitchen is my domain. Anyone can feel free to enter and do their own thing. And your mother finds it difficult to cook, especially because it is difficult for her to stand for too long. She told me she would be more than willing to help me whenever I need and she did say that she will cook on the weekends with me as her sous-chef. As for your sister, she asked me for some tea. She just returned from college and I don't blame her for being fatigued. I used to do the same back home, ask Ma or someone for anything that I wanted."

"She needs to grow up! The girl is older than you for crying out loud and she has to take up responsibilities. I am neither saying this in a misogynistic or chauvinistic way nor because she will be getting married soon, I am saying this because she needs to learn these basics for her benefit. She needs to be independent and self-reliant."

Mrinalini smiled keeping the towel aside and picking up her comb from the dressing table, "Independence and self-reliance are relative terms, Arghya. It depends on your situation and circumstances. We are all independent at the end of the day. She will step up when the situation needs her to."

The incident at the police station being fresh on her mind, bore testimony to her words. Mrinalini had stepped up and spoken when the police officer on duty had taken her lightly.

"I hope so for her own sake," Debarghya replied, looking at her.

"You want to say something?" Mrinalini asked him after a while, noticing the hesitance in his demeanor

"There was too much salt in the lentils yesterday and the curry was too bland," he said, rubbing his nape, adding quickly, "Don't get me wrong, Mrinal. I am not criticizing you or your culinary skills and I am aware that you were too stressed and upset yesterday. I am just telling you because, um, my sister can be a bit straightforward and rude. She loves her food and she doesn't take it too kindly when the taste doesn't suit her palate. She doesn't usually mean or realize the intensity of her words while speaking and when she does, the words are already out and have already caused havoc. Don't take her words to your heart, okay?"

"I'll try not to. I cannot make promises, words do get to your mind sometimes and I am only human."

Debarghya nodded, wordlessly. Mrinalini regarded the look on his face for a moment, before leaving the room, silently.

...

Mrinalini didn't get ambushed by Anumegha's complaints like Debarghya had feared. In fact, the previous day's disaster cook had just been mentioned in passing while she had been busy licking her fingers off during supper.

After dinner, Mrinalini was folding up her saris and her husband's clothes. She had taken the first contraceptive pill that night since it was the first day of her menstrual cycle. Debarghya had stepped out of the room for a smoke, much to Mrinalini's annoyance. She immensely disliked his habit of smoking, but she was smart enough to know that his habit couldn't be changed overnight. She had requested him to cut down the number of cigarettes that he smoked per day and he had reluctantly promised the same.

"I hate the smell of smoke and tobacco, Arghya. You'd better change again before going to bed," Mrinalini spoke sternly, seeing him enter the room.

"You know I always change before going to bed, Mrinal," his voice sounding defeated, "Your uncle had called by the way, when you were out in the evening."

Mrinalini's movement stilled. She pushed aside the pair of Bermuda pants that she had been folding. She gulped, her throat drying at the mention of her uncle's name.

Her voice was reduced to a whisper when she asked coldly, "What did he want? What did he say?"

"He expressed his desire to meet you. He doesn't have your phone number and mine was engaged, so he spoke to Ma on the landline. Your uncle and aunt are leaving for New Delhi on the 26th, to spend a few days with your Aunt's brother who apparently lives there. They will be leaving for London on the 31st. From what Ma said, he will be coming to your old home for one last time tomorrow, to hand over the keys of the house to the new occupants at around noon. Would you like to go and meet him, Mrinal?" Debarghya asked her gently, looking at her intently, trying to decipher her expression

She was caught off guard. Did she really want to meet a man who had raped her mother; a man who had taken advantage of Rai's vulnerability and naivete? A man who had betrayed a bereaved widow, a helpless single mother's trust?

"What would you suggest, Arghya?" she asked him in a low voice. "He isn't the same man whose shoulder I cried on while leaving home. He did something unforgivable. I can never look at him or face him the same way," Mrinalini voiced her concerns, allowing her emotions to spill out in the form of words.

He took a step towards her and then stopped, looking down at himself, realizing that he hadn't changed after smoking. Tsking under his breath, he looked up at Mrinalini, "I'll change and come?"

"Um, sure. I'll clear this," Mrinalini said, confused, her hand pointing at the scattered clothes on their bed, "and make the bed, till then."

Mrinalini was tucking the bedsheet under the mattress when Debarghya approached her. She stilled as his arms went around her waist, pulling her gently, closer to his chest. It took her a moment to relax, to lean back and rest her head on his shoulder.

"What should I do, Arghya?" she asked, turning her head sideways, to look at Debarghya. "The police here said that Entally doesn't come under their jurisdiction. I need to approach the concerned authorities there once. I do not want him to be let off scot-free! I want to have the courage to face him and confront him, but," she gulped, "I don't know if I can."

"It's been 20 years, Mrinal. I doubt what the police can do. Don't keep your hopes too high. Go to the police station tomorrow before you visit your uncle. You need to meet him once and speak. Give this chapter a closure, for the sake of your own peace," Debarghya told her softly, his lips close to her earlobe, his words and voice caressing the back of her neck causing goosebumps to rise on her skin at the heat.

Mrinalini sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes shut, "I lived in his house for more than two decades. I grew up there. I thought I knew the man," her voice cracked. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears when she turned to face Debarghya, "How could I be so wrong?"

"It takes an entire lifetime to know someone, Mrinal," Debarghya rasped, his voice husky, as he cupped Mrinalini's face, "Pose these questions to him. Relieve your heart of this burden and let him be weighed down by his sins."

She blinked, raising herself on her toes to lean towards him, till their lips touched. She pressed her lips against his for a moment, letting them feel his warmth and rough softness. Her hands wrapped themselves around his torso as she withdrew shyly, resting her head on his chest.

They were still for a while, the occasional pealing of the wind chime resonating about the room, amalgamating with their steady pulse.

"Will you accompany me to Entally tomorrow?" Mrinalini asked Debarghya, pushing him back slightly, her eyes expectant and hopeful, as they met his intense, smoldering gaze.

"It is a working day tomorrow. I can't, Mrinal. I am sorry."

There was guilt in his voice, but that didn't dampen Mrinalini's spirit. Perhaps a few battles were destined to be faced, fought, and conquered alone.

...

August 25, Entally, Kolkata

"It's been two decades madame," the police officer on duty exclaimed explosively, his eyes blazing in vexation, "What do you expect us to do? Can anything that we do now undo what happened with your mother?"

Mrinalini was at the Entally police station. It was half-past eleven and she was supposed to meet her uncle at noon. It had taken a good part of her time at the police station to get her concerns through to the officer on duty. He had listened patiently with a bored expression on his face, his temper only flaring up when he came to know that it had been more than 19 years since the incident.

"It isn't about you undoing what has already been done! He is a criminal," Mrinalini retorted. "I would appreciate it if you could simply record my statement and take the complaint that I came to lodge."

The officer clicked his tongue in annoyance, taking in a few deep breaths to calm down.

"Madame, we cannot do anything now. We need major evidence and biological samples like semen, blood, pubic hair, and everything else. I know that you are thinking from an emotional angle since your mother is involved but think of it logically. On what basis do you want us to arrest your Uncle? Based on your statement and your mother's confession?"

"Why can't you, Sir? Why would any woman lie about being raped?" Mrinalini's voice was hopeful

"The same way we cannot just listen to an accused repeating like a parrot, insisting on their non-involvement and innocence, we cannot accept every other woman's word like it is the law. As I said, think logically madame. Would there be justice if we started arresting people without ample evidence and fair trials? We cannot throw people into prisons just like that. The last time it happened was during an Emergency. You don't want a repeat of the same, do you?"

She shook her head, dumbfounded. Why would anyone want a relapse of the much-criticized Emergency in the country?

"Is there no other way we can go forward?" Mrinalini asked the officer, a flicker of hope crossing her initially crestfallen face

"There is always another way, ma'am," the police officer told her, raking his eyes over the young woman whose angry, determined stare was scorchingly intimidating, "but that way isn't for you."

Mrinalini narrowed her eyes, "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Plainly ma'am, you need money; lots of money to afford and engage a good lawyer. You will need a lot of patience and an abundance of free time to present yourself at the court as and when the judiciary commands," he said. "A young woman like you must have more work than that and, judging by your appearance, you do not come from a rich background. Don't get me wrong, ma'am, but a married woman wearing a cotton sari isn't someone who'll have the requisite amount of money needed to win the case."

Mortified and flustered, Mrinalini drew the free end of her sari closer to herself. She knew that her appearance was too simple and that clearly reflected on her modest upbringing and background.

"But Sir," she began, only to be stopped and interrupted harshly.

"Enough ma'am. I have already listened to you and answered your doubts. Dream of justice only when you have the financial power to buy you the same. That is how it works in this nation, ma'am. A monthly salary of 30,000 or 40,000 cannot buy you what you want. Now if you would excuse me, my team and I have to go. Some eminent political leaders are addressing a rally and we are responsible for providing them protection. We have better things to do and I am sure you aren't too free either," the police officer told Mrinalini, his voice daunting.

And just like that, the last ray of sunshine that had called out to her got extinguished by the abrupt downpour called reality that had descended upon her, cold and dreary, chilling her to the bones.

She composed her jittery self, watching in awe as the police officer walked away, leaving her with shattered hope, but a stronger spirit.

...

"Mini, my child! How have you been?" Srishti asked Mrinalini, pulling her into her embrace

Mrinalini smiled at her aunt, nodding in a fake, pleasant manner.

"I have been well, Jethima (aunt). How are you doing?"

Srishti replied, but her words fell on deaf ears. Mrinalini had gone white with rage at the sight of her uncle who had just stepped out of the house, talking with a tall man who undoubtedly was the new owner. She felt furious and astounded at his indifference. How did he spend two decades totally oblivious to the heinous crime that he had once committed and seemingly forgotten about? How could he tread the earth so lightly after doing something like that?

"Mini!" Srishti shook her out of her trance, "Sweetheart, are you not happy there? You seem so distant."

"I am fine. I am well and happy there. When are you leaving?" Mrinalini asked Srishti, abruptly changing the topic with a question, the answer to which was already known to her

"Mini! When did you arrive? This is Mr. Bhattacharya, the new owner of the house," Barun spoke, making the necessary introductions as he approached his niece.

Mrinalini politely smiled in greeting, fighting the urge to snap at her uncle. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palm, painfully.

"Mini, how much time do you have in hand? I hope you are going to stay for a while. I'll just go and meet the neighbors once. Your uncle and I would be checking into a hotel near the airport tonight, we sent off quite a lot of our luggage through cargo. We are aging you see, can't carry so much stuff!" Srishti told Mrinalini laughing, pointing at the strands of gray hair that peeked out amidst her thick black hair.

"I will be here for a while, Jethima."

Mrinalini was left alone with her Uncle as Srishti walked away. She did not say anything, she was at a loss of words and her larynx was as good as ineffectual.

"How have you been Mini?" Barun asked her softly, breaking the silence

"You told me not to let go of your hand in crowded places, Jethu (Uncle). You told me to stay by your side and not to wander off in case a stranger calls me," Mrinalini spoke, lifting her gaze to look at her Uncle who sported a confounded expression. "Yet you chose to marry me off to a man who I had just met once; you married me off to a stranger without blinking an eye."

"Did he hurt you anyway, Mini? Did he do anything against your," Barun's voice trailed off, his reluctance to assume the worst apparent.

Mrinalini laughed humorlessly, in a sardonic manner, "Funny how a rapist hesitates to ask if his niece has been taken against her will."

Barun's face went pale. He gulped, any words of protest dying down his throat. His hand, shriveled and wrinkled with age, trembled as he sought a grip on the nearby wall, for support.

"To answer your question, Uncle, he did nothing against my will, and from what I have seen in these few days, he can never do something like that. He can never be you!" she thundered, all her calmness evaporating in the form of the radiating steam of her words.

"I was so apprehensive about the marriage, Jethu. I was so scared about marrying a man I hardly knew. I didn't want to leave my family and go to a home filled with strangers," Mrinalini continued, angry tears escaping the restraints of her eyes. "I was so wrong! I lived all these years under the shelter and care of a stranger. I grew up in the home of a blasted rapist! How bad can living the rest of my life with another stranger be?"

"Mini, I..."

"Tell me one thing, Jethu," Mrinalini interrupted, her voice jeering. "Did you feel a shudder of fear going through your veins when you thought for a moment that I may have been mistreated by my husband or worse raped? Did you fear for me?"

"You are... like my daughter, Mini," Barun choked out. "How can I not fear for you? Sweetheart, it would kill me if anything..."

"Ma happens to be someone's daughter too, Jethu!" she spoke, referring to Rai who had been a victim to Barun's admonishment and inhumanity. "How could you do something to a woman that you cannot imagine happening with your daughter or your niece?"

"I cannot answer that, Mini, I really can't."

"She addressed you as her Dada (older brother) for God's sake! Did it never occur to you that she was mourning your younger brother's death?" the soft-spoken Mini who had ceased from raising her voice at her elders asked her uncle in a seething tone, "Did it never occur to that you were dishonoring your dead brother? He was a lawyer! A man who probably protected law and order and you..."

"What makes you think that he was like Gangajal (water from the Ganges, considered pure and chaste)? He was seen with a different girl every two weeks before he was married off to your mother!"

"Perhaps he wasn't! Maybe he had a dark side, but he was my father and the deceased husband of my widowed mother who had sought your protection and help for herself and her toddler!" Mrinalini continued, "Baba wouldn't have done something like this to my mother! He must be so ashamed to have had the same blood as you, running in his veins! He must be ashamed of sharing the same surname and the same mother! He must have seen from heaven or hell, his own elder brother violating his wife. He must have felt rage and exasperation, Jethu!"

"Mini, I..."

"You warned me and asked me to keep away from strangers. You asked me to think twice before trusting anyone who wasn't family," Mrinalini paused, her voice becoming a whisper as she continued, "Alas, you never warned me against masked strangers in the family!"

"Mini, I am sorry! I deeply regret it. I brought you up like my daughter, Mini. I cannot compensate for my mistake..."

"Your crime," she corrected.

"I am sorry, Mini. I am still your Uncle, sweetheart. Now that I think from a father's point of view, I can see. I don't know how I..."

"I knew the Barun Debnath, my uncle who would take me out with him, holding my hand while crossing the road. He would buy me whatever I wanted. He loved me just as my father would have. Now, I just know you as the man who raped my mother and took advantage of her! You may have succeeded as my guardian, as my uncle, and as the father who brought me up, but you," she paused, looking at him with an accusatory glance, "you failed as a husband, as a son, and as a man! You are as good as a stranger to me!"

"Mini, please don't tell your aunt or Abhrajeet," he begged, his face contorting in fear and guilt.

Mrinalini smiled at him, her face reflecting her disgust, "And all you care about is this! Don't worry, our judicial system is as lousy and imprudent as you. You are not going to prison anytime soon and although I hate you and would have loved to see you rot, I would rather not spoil your wife's old age. She has loathed my mother all her life, but at least she was straightforward in her feelings and actions, unlike the nefarious snake that you are!"

"Child, you don't know how grateful I would be to you," Barun said, his eyes softening as he regarded his niece with relief

"Let's not be too grateful. Someday when you would lie on your death bed, your conscience would pierce your own heart! You would be weighed down by your own sins, Uncle. At that time, you would like to confess to your transgression and you would seek relief from the regret that would crush you, silently," Mrinalini told him fiercely, her demeanor harsh even as she looked at Barun through eyes hazy with tears.

"I hope there comes a day when you would beg for punishment. I don't want Dadabhai (elder brother i.e., Abhrajeet) or Jethima to suffer for you. Why should a criminal's family sustain the tribulation that was for the criminal alone?"

Barun's voice trembled as he said, "Mini, would you never forgive me? Baby, you mean so much to us, to me! I wouldn't be able to take your hatred."

"Hatred? You are a stranger to me," Mrinalini's voice was firm, "I know you brought me up. I know you raised me, but at the cost of what? At the cost of my mother's dignity?"

He was silent.

"I am leaving, Mr. Debnath."

"Mini... you called me? I am your Uncle, Mini," Barun spoke, his voice filled with longing.

"Tell Jethima that I had to leave early. I really cannot bear to be here with you any longer and I also have responsibilities at home," Mrinalini told him, her voice hoarse as she spoke through her parched throat, dry from talking so long.

"Mini, I had something for you."

Mrinalini waited, observing her Uncle as he reached into the polythene in his hand to retrieve a photo album.

"Your wedding album, Mini," Barun told her, holding out the album for her to take.

She accepted the album, calmly, her lips stretching into a polite smile. "I know that under normal circumstances, I would have touched your feet to take your blessings, but even after my mother taught me to respect my elders, I cannot bring myself to do the same," Mrinalini told him coldly.

Barun blinked, shocked at her blunt declaration. He felt tears nudge the corner of his eyes as the enormity of the situation sunk in. He had been rejected by the girl who he had raised like his daughter.

"Mini," he began, desperation and helplessness apparent in his tone.

"Have a safe journey and take care of Jethima," she told him interrupting him, before turning to leave. She stopped again, midway to add, "And don't call me Mini. It is reserved for those who I love and respect," her eyes were unblinking and her gaze unfazed. "Strangers like you may address me by my name; Mrinalini."

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 13th September 2020

Author's note:

Hello everyone!

I hope you are well and safe.

A phase in my life has come to an end, thus paving the way to a new phase namely, college life. I am looking forward to it and I do seek your wishes :-)

I am really sorry for disappearing yet once again. I will try my best to do better, but again, no promises. And I am genuinely sorry if the chapter wasn't up to the mark.

Take care of yourself everyone and I hope things return to normal for all of us, real soon!

With love,

Shubhadittya

P.S. Please do VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE if you think the story is deserving.

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