Short Story: Granny Anwesha’s Diary

Rathin Bhattacharjee’s short story is equal measures nostalgic and suspenseful, making it a poignant read.

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“Granny, I found this diary with lots of stickers inside and out in the attic. Can I read it out to you?”

“Does it have a photo of a girl and her sister on the first page?”

“Yea. How do you know?”

“Didn’t I tell you Grandmothers are magicians? They know everything. Anyway, you can read it out if you want.”

17th February, Haridwar

By the time Dipenda and I were the first to get to the temple at around 3.45 AM, and I sat down on a stone slab by the side of the trail, everything around was covered with a blanket of darkness. Dipenda went hunting for some tea-stall or something, selling snacks.

Sitting there all by myself I pondered over the days we, my Sis and I, spent planning this trip together. I learned about the Vishnu Temple from a friend. Her friends joined later. The trek to Badrinath of around 18 kilometers was one of the watershed events in my life. Being the youngest and the most fragile one in the group, most of my sister’s friends thought I wouldn’t be able to make it. I proved them wrong.

As darkness gave way to the first signs of the breaking dawn, I looked around and what I saw was a sight that’ll stay with me forever! Everything around was covered in snow and there was something majestic, something divine about the snow-capped mountains in the distance. I’d never seen anything like that in my life before nor am I likely to see such a view again.

Later, we got into the queue and waited for others to join us after Dipenda had brought me some steaming coffee.

“I’m really impressed, Anwesha. You’re one heck of a young girl. I never expected you to make it this far..”

I beamed, coming from someone who left a lucrative job of a Computer Engineer to be a mariner, it really meant a lot to me.

The other thing I want to note down was how inside the temple, I could touch the body of Lord Vishnu by courtesy of the aged purohit though Sis had to wait outside the entrance as she was having her periods at that time. Someone in the group had said that it was a bad omen.

Later, we trekked up to the Manasa Devi Temple, a kilometer or so above the Temple of Lord Vishnu. But what left an indelible mark on me was the sight of the early bathers at Har ki Pauri, where the footmarks of the Lord are to be found and therefore, a very holy place for the Hindus.

18th February, Haridwar.

Back in the hotel, I was in a hurry to hit the bed after a tiring day. Sis and I were sharing a whitewashed room with one door at the back. There was a corridor that led to the room Dipenda occupied. I was sound asleep when I heard a door creaking sound somewhere. I’ve always been the more suspicious of us, sisters. I slowly turned over to see someone slowly tiptoeing out and vanishing behind the back door.

I pretended to be asleep by the time Sis got back to our room. She had no idea whatsoever about how I had followed her to the room at the back. That was the first time I felt jealous of her, but worried at the same time knowing how much head over heels she was in love with Dipenda. I had pangs of jealousy as I had started fancying him after the trek to Badrinath.

7th March, Kolkata

I did not write anything to you, Dear Me, as I had been very upset during the rest of the tour to Haridwar. Once we got back to Delhi, Sis and I made a scene in our hotel room. I called her names for taking me for a fool. I yelled calling her ‘a slut’ for going out of our room in the middle of the night. The more sober of the two of us, she didn’t shout back like she was in the habit of doing, especially when we two fell out.

After an hour or so, when we had gone down to the lounge of the hotel and ordered our breakfast, Dipenda joined us. In the early hours of the morning, in his dark blue tracksuit, he looked more like the Aussie pacer, Cummins. I nearly swooned at his appearance.

“Hi, Anwesha. How’s your headache now? I learned from Amisha that you didn’t join us on the last day due to a severe headache. We missed someone as livewire as you’re.” He smiled (God! How can someone’s smile be so infectious?)

“I hope my not being able to join you all, didn’t spoil the party. I hope you and Sis had some time to yourselves.” My cutting words sounded even rude to myself.

As Sis kept fiddling with the noodles in her bowl, her head bent, Dipenda looked at her briefly before muttering, “No, while others were roaming around the Temple, Amisha and I stayed back in the garden.

As Sis and I found ourselves sitting on a bench outside the carriage of our train, Sis took me completely aback by remarking : I didn’t know that you’d fallen flat for Dipen. I wish you’d told me about it….”

Just then the other three who were to join us on the return journey back to Kolkata, turned up. Dipenda was also there, looking as dashing as ever. Though he was going back to his office in Hyderabad from there.

16th March, Kolkata

After the wild partying last night, we, Sis and I, came back home at around 11.30 PM. Ma, waiting in the kitchen, was furious. She told us that Baba was back home as he wanted to spend some quality time with the family. She had mitigated his angst somehow by cooking up the story of our being at Massi’s. But he looked livid even then. Later, looking at me for a while, (did she know I was completely boozed?) Ma asked both of us to get back to our room without being noisy.

That night as we hit the beds, the last words Sis uttered should have sent the signal that I had failed to see all along. She told me as she switched off the table lamp on her side that she had applied for a transfer and was, most probably, going to be sent to Bangalore.

31st March

Last night Dipenda called me and invited me to his wedding. He told me something that made me deeply remorseful:

“You know, Anwesha, I’m going to tell you something I don’t know if I should be telling you. From our college days, your sis, Amisha and I were best friends. I am sure she reciprocated my feelings. That’s why I joined the Haridwar Trip. I knew something was bothering her towards the end of the trip but I didn’t bother much as I put it down to stress due to our hectic itinerary.

But the other night at the Party at Blue Lagoon, she surprised me by telling me that there was no way she could marry me. I have known her long enough to understand that she meant it. I pestered her for the reasons. I even asked her if she had found someone else. But I couldn’t get it out of her. Then you came back and that cut short our conversation.

My granny had been pestering me to get married for long. She’s in her late eighties now. I couldn’t keep the poor lady waiting any more. So, I’ve consented to this arranged marriage.

I’ve always looked upon you as a sister. I’ll be happy if you can at least join the marriage party…”

I didn’t even congratulate on his marriage.

And, Dear Me, you’re the other person besides my Sis, to know why I didn’t, couldn’t join his marriage party.”’

***

“May I tell you something, granny Anwesha?”

“Yes,” Anwesha replied, looking at her granddaughter quizzically.

“I think it was wrong on the part of grandma, Amisha, to remain a lifelong spinster. Shouldn’t she have expressed her feelings at least for once to the person she loved?”

It was now granny Anwesha’s turn to be stunned.

Author’s Bio

Rathin Bhattacharjee from Kolkata, India, a former Teacher and Principal, SXPS, Joypur, is a winner of His Majesty’s Gold Medal for Lifetime Achievement in Teaching (2018). He is a much-published, anthologised Author, having been adjudged The Best Fiction Author by different publishers. An avid reader, he spends my time, post-superannuation, writing, editing, critiquing and translating.