Rathin Bhattacharjee

What Goes Around, Comes Around!

Reflecting on relationships and memories, this heartfelt story explores the profound connections between family members, spanning decades of love, loss, and reconciliation.

Once I told my better half Supriya that whatever happens in this world, happens for a reason and there is a serious relationship between the happenings. It is our bad luck that we fail to find the meaning of each of these happenings. Take for example, the case of my father in law. The mere fact of our relationship and the fact that he was the father of two daughters just like I am, couldn't have been merely coincidental, could it? Let's get back to the real story then. I was in my seventies then, seventy- seven to be precise.…...

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Once I told my better half Supriya that whatever happens in this world, happens for a reason and there is a serious relationship between the happenings. It is our bad luck that we fail to find the meaning of each of these happenings. Take for example, the case of my father in law. The mere fact of our relationship and the fact that he was the father of two daughters just like I am, couldn't have been merely coincidental, could it?

Let's get back to the real story then. I was in my seventies then, seventy- seven to be precise. I lost my spouse in my early sixties. My two daughters were fully engrossed in discharging their family duties and responsibilities. I was entirely dependent on my indispensable domestic help, Ramu. At such a time when I was getting used to such a life of loneliness, Abhra, my nephew, the only son of my brother, came to meet me.

I had made Ramu serve Abhra the cup of tea and snacks when Abhra asked me toxically:

"Uncle Runu, do you remember how much dad loved you?"

Unnerved by the suddenness of his query, caught off guard, I was trying to get over the confusion, when those pure, blissful days with my late brother, Sunu, flashed in my mind. Those were some wonderful days!

On the first day of my school, Big Brother was leading me to school, holding my hand tightly in his. Brother explaining the assignments to me. Taking me to task for coming back home late after having spent a considerable amount of time in addas with my friends.

The experience of witnessing an exciting cricket match between the mighty West Indies and India from the Club House at the Eden Gardens on a glorious, wintry morning in January!

The experience of having taken out and wearing his blue jeans from his suitcase in his absence in order to impress my girlfriend!

His words as I was accompanying him to his new apartment, a place where he had recently shifted, still rang in my mind : If you 've to buy tea-bags, Ron, you can buy it from that shop. Not only do you get good quality here but you get it at a cheaper price."

After my pathetic performance in the B.A. exam, my Brother, of all people, with a packet of sandesh (1) made of nalen gur (2), leading me on to the house of his University professor  regarding my admission so that I didn't waste a year unnecessarily.

My aged brother, teary-eyed, handing me a five-hundred-rupee-note with the words : "Don't refuse it, my brother. It'll hurt me."

"What's the matter, Runu Kaka? Don't you remember if Dad loved you or not?"

Abhra was relentless.

My wedding to the daughter of a rich family, despite Big Bro's vehement opposition. The misunderstandings started from them on. Then came the bickerings resulting in Brother shifting to a rented house in another locality.

His dead body lying in the courtyard of our ancestral home at Suresh Sarkar Road while I tried separating myself from the crowd for wiping away the tears welling up in my eyes!

"Uncle Runu?"

Having wiped the tears off my eyes, I looked at my nephew and nodded my head.

Big Brother really loved me dearly. And the very next moment another scene flashed through my mind ....

I was in my early thirties then. My Uncle Nripesh, my late Baba's own brother lived in a separate part of our ancestral home, all by himself! My Aunt passed away years back and his two daughters, happily married, were busy discharging their marital duties. No one had time for uncle, let alone me!

That day when he came down to my room, I offered him a chair. In the middle of making some luchis for me, Supriya asked him if he would like to have a few.

Once she had uncle's consent, she offered a plate with two steaming, puffed up luchis on it to him.

I had been seething in angst against my uncle at that time. They had the guts to cut my Baba off from the others! Could I ever forget that and forgive them for the humiliation?

"Baba loved you a lot, didn't he, Uncle?" I took him back with the question suddenly.

Uncle, having picked up the luchi from the plate was getting ready for the fight ahead. Fighting to tear a part of the luchi with the remnant of the only tooth somewhere in the middle of his upper gum! You can ask anyone widowed about the credibility of the last sentence - how difficult it gets to tear anything a little bit hard when one is aged - if you don't believe me.

Uncle put the luchi down back on the plate, glimpsed at the sky through the chink in the curtained window before slowly moving his head up and down.

Vanquished before turning twenty in the war called Life, I was feeling over the moon for defeating my Uncle in a battle of nerves and wits!

The end

Notes :

(1)    Sandesh, is a milk and sugar based dessert.

(2)    Nalen gur, is a freshly-made treacle from date juice.

Rathin Bhattacharjee

Rathin Bhattacharjee from Kolkata, India, former Principal of SXPS, Joypur, joined Bhutan Civil Service (1990) as an English Teacher. Awarded HM's Gold Medal for Life Time Achievement in Teaching (2018), he has been published and anthologized extensively both nationally and internationally, with the publication of two recent books to his credit. He spends his time writing, blogging, translating, podcasting, editing and critiquing.

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