Confessional Diary
Subrota Dasgupta [ This short story first appeared in the blog Aainanagar (aainanagar.com) in November 2013. Translation by HUG.] ——————————————– Indulging Bhanu was the sole impetus behind my story telling spree. But every story cannot be told to a six year old. So here it is. –Subrota Dasgupta Morning. Diya was using bits of newspaper to scour her ear. It’s Diya’s habit of cleaning and scrubbing her face and teeth, at times poking her ear with such stuff. Especially when she is thinking. Today, she is thinking about Baba. About Baba means about Baba’s twenty-third girlfriend. Shefali-di. Shefali-di is one of the earliest of Baba’s students. Used to be a regular at their place. After her college days, she worked as a proof-reader in a local press. Baba was instrumental in getting her this job. She stays at a rented place near Barasat with her mother. Shefali-di’s father is no more. This, baba’s prem-rog, his obsession with falling in love, is an old condition. He has fallen in love with a lot of women at various points in his life. Sometimes when people felt that he was in love, actually he was not. There used to be a lot of unrest at home, Diya recalls. But Diya was more or less at peace with herself. The reason: Baba’s confessional diary, where every detail of Baba’s love life got jotted down. For instance, during the time when Ma was raising hell about Moushumi-di’s falling for Baba, Diya came to know from the diary that Baba was not at all interested in Moushumi-di. He had merely offered a ride to her one day—that was all. Shushovan-kaku had spied that one odd incident and had promptly sneaked in a word to Ma and to Santosh-kaku. Now Santosh-kaku is the younger sibling of Akashvani Radio and then, naturally, the gossip mills worked overtime. But then again when Baba was head over heels with Trina Bose, things were quite sedate at home since only Diya knew about it. It is a mystery how this fateful diary would unfailingly reach Diya during such times. But in this manner, Diya could solve twenty-two love-stories. The places Baba would go with his dates, the kinds of gifts he bought, the reasons for his falling in love and also how and why each affair would come to an end—Diya knew all. But this time, the mystery about Shefali-di is getting curiouser and curiouser. The pages of the diary are clean! The very idea that such a love affair can bloom between the two is such a fabulous notion; leads to a greater mystery actually. At this point let the many attributes of Shafali-di be quickly described. Shefali Ghosh is in her early thirties. Height: 4 feet 2 inches. Weight 80 kgs. Pale dark in complexion. A bizarre, uneven set of teeth. A fast receding hairline leading to a short-cropped style. One may easily be confused about her gender because of her ambiguous, uneven voice. Middling in studies, she was. It was thanks to Baba’s notes that she had passed with honours in her BA exam. There is no doubt that she is extremely hardworking. Can carry books in gunny bags from Barasat to Behala to Sodepur to Baruipur with complete nonchalance. Suppose the household maid makes herself scarce for a month without any prior notice, no issues: Shefali-di to the rescue. About five thousand books in fifteen huge almirahs can be dusted in two hours flat. And most importantly: Shefali-di is a terrific cook. She is especially good with patients, those who might need some special attention. When Baba was bedridden with jaundice, Shefali-di would make sure to send all kinds of yummy food almost every other day. Certainly Baba can fall in love with someone with such stellar qualities. No harm there—it is his prerogative after all! But why the heck is the diary staring blankly at Diya this time? Diya is restless. She just got to hear that Baba has actually booked an apartment for Shefali-di near Barasat. Strange tidings. Until now, Baba would buy books, pens, key rings, photo frames, cheap perfumes, soft toys and suchlike for his girls. But a whole new apartment! Every morning with Minoti-di, Ma is going hysterical about Baba. And Minoti-di, as she kneads maida, moulding the dough into those perfectly round luchis, consoles Ma, “What can one do Boudi. Steel yourself; things will get better.” And as Baba sits at the table, Ma, in her divine snivelling avatar, would pack his tiffin with fruits and sweets and luchi-tarkari. Just can’t take this any-more—inane and pathetic! Such a scene used to be pretty common earlier too but Diya took no heed of these things then. She would know exactly what the situation was. This time it is different. And to top it all, Jayanta-kaku, who is an accountant himself, casually informs them that Baba had transferred half the money that he had recently acquired by selling off Dadu’s property to Shefali Ghosh’s account. Jayanta-kaku is a man of integrity—so there is no question of distrusting him. Something must be done. Shall Diya make an effort to confront Shefali-di herself? Shefali-di works in the College Street area, she knows. Every day at 2 o’clock Shefali-di comes out of her press to have toast and ghugni. Diya sure can accost her at that time. But the funny thing is that when Diya did actually encounter her, Shefali-di herself made some queries, like: How is Baba doing? How is Ma’s health these days? Are Diya’s classes going on well? Said that there was a lot of pressure in her work-place as the book-fair was round the corner, and regretted that she had not come to their place of late. All this means that she had not met Baba recently. What kind of love-story is this? Thanks to the dairy, Diya never ever had any urge to get one on one with Baba about their personal lives. With Baba it is