The Magic Pill - 11.... Misfortune In Disguise in English Fiction Stories by KAMAL KANT LAL books and stories PDF | The Magic Pill - 11: Misfortune In Disguise

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The Magic Pill - 11: Misfortune In Disguise

The next morning Badal da got the GOOD news. Mr. Trilok informed him, "Lastly, you won Mr. Badal. Management has decided to be considerate on you and allow you to avail the VRS. Congratulations. ........ Now Happy?”

But Badal da was far from any happiness. He did not expect that the management will grant him VRS. It was only because of the recent turn of events that he got trapped into his emotional framework.

“I don’t know I should be happy or sad,” Badal da confided in Swati, “Why did they approve my application? It is their defeat. ………I fail to understand them. …… When they asked me to resign, I didn’t. I think I made it clear that I wanted to stay back. They tried to harass me, but I did not object. ….. My rage, which was actually for my children, died out with time and I wanted to continue. I was thinking of apologizing for my outbursts. …… Once they spoke so highly of me and called me an Arabian horse. And see; now they are throwing me out.”

“They don’t want horses. They wanted a donkey like you, who would follow all their orders without questioning. When they found that you have grown tongue in your mouth, they ousted you,” Swati murmured between her teeth.

Swati too, got the approval. When Nitai came to take charge of work from both Swati and Badal da, then only it was known to them that he was retained.

Nitai was very grateful to Badal da and touched his feet. If Badal da had not become adamant about taking VRS, he would have been sure to be shown the exit gate.

Badal da became depressed and remained silent till the lunch break. Nitai, in the meanwhile, took charge of all the files from Swati. She also briefed him on specific critical issues.

At lunch break, Badal da asked Swati, "What will I do now? My children are away. My wife is dead and I have no work. I feel like I have made the biggest mistake of my life. Should I go and request them to change their decision?"

Swati gave him a sharp look and said, "Don't be silly. Nitai will lose his job. At least think of him. ….. In the next three years, you were going to retire. But Nitai has eight or nine years to get to the retirement age. You must start thinking about how you will relax and enjoy your life henceforth rather than criticizing your decision."

Badal da could not say anything. His mind got clouded when he thought about the whole issue. Nitai asked him to brief him. He said he would do that the next day. He took half day leave and went home.

Swati, on the other hand, was thrilled. All the office staff congratulated her and demanded sweets. She requested Nitai to bring desserts from the market. Nitai happily went to the market and bought additional sweets from his pocket. He was also delighted. But he never told anybody about this.

There was still one week remaining before Badal da and Swati left the office.

As the days passed, Badal da became listless and dull. He would hardly talk to anybody. When asked, he would reply with gestures only. If at all he had to speak, he would answer in a broken sentence comprising of only a few words. He distanced himself from his colleagues.

When Swati asked, he replied in a sad voice, "I don't know…. don't feel like……. talking."

“Mr. Badal, don't lose your heart. This phase will soon be over. I also feel little nostalgic. We have spent more than twenty-five years of our lives in this office. It pains to bid the place and the people goodbye."

Badal da did not say anything. Swati continued, “I will suggest you to go to some hill station and spend some time with yourself.”

“What are your plans?” he asked

"I have started packing my things. I will move to Delhi. Nivedita is expecting a baby in the next four months. They are now moving into a bigger apartment. I will stay with them."

“Hmm…,”

“The office will do my financial settlement only after I hand over my Company accommodation. I may need your help in disposing of a few things that I cannot carry to Delhi. Would you please help me?

“Yes, sure. When do you want me to come?”

“I will inform you.”

His departure from the office was very non-ceremonious. Office staff shook hands with him and wished him good in life. Nitai was especially much moved. He said it more than once that because of him, he could continue in the office.

Mr. Trilok greeted him warmly and commented, "So, lastly, you won. At least say ‘Thank You' to me," and he laughed loudly.

Badal da could not speak a single word. He gave a sad smile and bowed at everyone before leaving his chamber.

He gave a last look at his desk and walked out downhearted.

The next morning, he got up after a disturbed sleep at night. He brushed his teeth and was about to take a bath when he realized that he did not have to go to the office today. He walked out of his house in his nightdress and had tea from the shop outside the colony campus.

He did not have a TV in his house. He did not like to read a Newspaper. He did not have friends. He was not on FB. He was not a member of any WhatsApp group. When he was working, he came back from his office and waited for his dinner to arrive. In the meanwhile, he was engaged in visiting the toilet for two to three times. After dinner, he would go to sleep. He had to get up at least two times in the night for the toilet. In the morning, he had tea from the tea shop. This is how he spent his evenings.

When he came back, he had no idea what to do. The entire day was in front of him. He strolled in all his three rooms and waited for the pressure to build up in his stomach.

One room was meant for Babla. But he was not coming back from Australia. One room was for Tumpa. But she also had left without giving any warning. The third room, where he lived, was a mess. He did not have any guests in his house after his wife's death. So he did not bother to keep it tidy and clean.

He thought he would clean the house today. He picked up the broom. But after some time, cleaning became so wearisome that he threw the broom. Then he washed and went to the market to have his breakfast.

On the way, he rang up Mr. Tanmay to bring his lunch also regularly from today onwards. On the way back, he bought today's newspaper.

He found the newspaper, not to his taste. He was not interested in politics. Nor did he like the crime stories. Much of the space was occupied by colorful advertisements, which failed to attract him. He threw the newspaper on the floor.

He went to the toilet once again. Now what to do next? He went to the medical shop to remind Hemant. Came back and stretched out on his crumpled bed. Soon he fell asleep.

When Mr. Tanmay came, he found the doors ajar. He knocked at the door. No one responded. Then he called Badal da by his name. After about five minutes, Badal da came out yawning. Mr. Tanmay handed him the lunch box and said, “Did you doze off?”

“Yes. What to do, there is no work.”

“But please keep the doors locked from inside.”

Badal da said very carelessly, “There is nothing valuable in the house.”

“But stray dogs can enter and soil the floor,” Mr. Tanmay warned him.

"Hmm…. OK, I will do as you say. Well, thank you."

Badal da bolted the house from inside after Mr. Tanmay left. He took out his lunch packed in aluminum foil packing and started eating directly from it.

After his lunch, he threw the remains of the food outside his window. Two stray dogs started fighting for it. Badal da again went to bed and fell asleep.

At around five, he got up. His stomach had started aching. He thought he would begin to take Dr. Taneja's medicines, but he remembered that his medical file was with Swati. He thought of ringing her but discarded the idea.

Swati called him on the third day. She wanted him to come to her house. He went there. In her presence, he felt better. Swati requested him to help her find customers for the household things she was not taking to Delhi. He assured her. There was one cot, one reading table, one dressing table, five chairs, some kitchen utensils, a gas stove, a refrigerator, a cooler and a few other small items.

“How much do you want for all this?” asked Badal da.

“I have no idea. Whatever I get, I will be satisfied.”

"Why don't you give a few things to your housemaid?"

"I don't have a housemaid. I do all my household things myself."

“Have you also requested some of your friends?”

“I don’t have many friends,” Swati laughed.

“Are you as single and lonely as I am?” Badal da could not believe.

She only smiled.

“How do you spend your time?”

"I cook and wash, go to the market to buy vegetables and other things. Eat the food that I have cooked. Talk to my daughter over the phone and after all these activities, if I get time, I listen to ‘Rabindra sangeet’.”

“Great,” said Badal da

“I also sing and write poems……… How are you spending your time now?”

“I never knew you were so talented,” Badal da said with admiration, “As far as I am concerned, I get up in the morning, brush my teeth, have my breakfast and go to sleep. I again get up in the afternoon, have my lunch and go to sleep. I do the same thing in the evening.”

Both of them started laughing.

Before leaving her house, Badal da said he will take all her unwanted household items to his apartment and would sell them over some time as he gets the customers. He collected his medical file from her and went home.

Swati knowingly did not discuss about his children. But she repeatedly reminded him to start taking his medicines.

The day Swati boarded the train for Delhi, Badal da helped her pack and transported her baggage to the station. When Swati's train departed, he stood there on the platform long after the train disappeared from his vision.

When the next train came on the platform, then only he moved out. He did not take the cab or the auto-rickshaw. It was around eight in the evening. He came out of the station campus and walked back home. He looked very pensive and dejected. He didn't take his food that day and rolled on his bed the whole night with intense pain in his abdomen.

He was a lonely man now. For many days he did not go out of his house. What could a solitary bird do? Many a time, he skipped his meals. The stray dogs were always found waiting for the half or uneaten food that he threw. In the night time, one or two of them would howl below his window, and Badal da’s heart sank at each howl.

He became so miserable by the next week that Mr. Tanmay, the only visitor to his house, got worried about him. He discussed his condition with his wife. She sent a delicious dish with extra sweets the next day. Badal da did not even look at the food, and the dogs relished the food.

When Mr. Tanmay asked him how did he like the food, he said casually, "Yes, as usual…. I mean good."

Mr. Tanmay asked if he was feeling bad. He said, "My stomach problem has aggravated. But it will be all right very soon."

It was more than a month since he heard anything from his children. Swati must have been very busy with her family. She had also not called him.

One day Mr. Tanmay arrived quite early in the morning, and forcibly took him to the Jubilee Park with him for a morning walk. Badal da felt a little better. That day he ate his food and took a bath also.

Now Mr. Tanmay came every morning, and both of them went to the park. There they would spend one hour together. Mr. Tanmay introduced him to other morning walkers, who became his friends over time. They welcomed Badal da warmly. Badal da also started liking their company. They were all retired and old persons. They greeted each other very warmly and laughed loudly at the slightest provocation. They had no complaints against anyone and they did not indulgence in any political discussions. They would have a cup of green tea at a stall after the walk and then went to their respective homes.

One day Mr. Tanmay intentionally came late. He saw that Badal da was eagerly waiting for his arrival, and on seeing him, he said, "I thought you would not come. So I was about to go on my bike."

When Mr. Tanmay told this to his wife, she took a deep breath of relief, "This is the best thing that you have done in the last few years. Thank god he has come out of his depression."

Soon Badal da came to his original form. Then one day, while taking green tea at the stall, he told the story of his belly dance - all about the spells of pain in his stomach and his experience with all the doctors he visited.

It was a new exciting topic for the group. They all participated enthusiastically. They laughed and talked about different doctors and their gimmicks to attract patients.

One morning walker said, “Dr. Joydeb is a good doctor. But don’t take his medicines.”

“Why,” Badal da asked.

"His diagnosis is perfect, but he prescribes old medicines, which are now out of fashion."

Another suggested him to visit a famous doctor in Odisha, "My daughter's mother in law had the same problem as yours. She consulted this doctor and got completely cured."

Someone objected, "No-no, it might be a stray case. My elder brother had a similar problem. But when he consulted him, his condition got worse, and he had to undergo a big operation. The surgeon told that if he continued the medicines for a few more days, then he would have lost his life."

The third one had a different opinion. He said, "You don't take the risk with Allopathic medicines. You better try Homeopathy. It is safe and without any side effects.

It appealed to Badal da. He consulted a Homeopath – Dr. Dasgupta. His chamber was close to the colony. He had retired from the Company some fifteen years back from the post of deputy manager and started practicing homeopathy.

Dr. Dasgupta heard his complaints patiently. He gave him some globules and instructed him how to take them.

This seventy-five years old man had plenty of time. He started gossiping with Badal da, "I am not doing practice to earn money. The matter of fact is that I am doing some social service. The medicines are so cheap and effective. Why should a poor man pay a huge amount on his treatment?"

Badal da was very impressed. He asked, “When did you study medicine?”

"Homeopathy is the easiest to learn. After retirement, I bought the Meteria Medica and read it from beginning till the end four times. I have cured hundreds of people in the last fifteen years."

“You became doctor by reading a book?” Badal da asked in surprise.

Then Dr. Dasgupta substantiated his knowledge by citing tens of examples of patients suffering from incurable diseases who got relief with his treatment. When Badal da left his chamber, he was quite convinced that he will get a permanent cure after taking Dr. Dasgupta's medicines. After few days of treatment, his pain became so intense that he felt like dying. He discontinued the medication.

That morning walker friend insisted him to continue, "This is a good sign. If the pain worsens in the first few days, that means the medicine is working. It would help if you continued taking medications. But Badal da was so afraid that he did not dare to even look at the homeopathic globules in the tiny bottles. He threw them out of his window and promised that he would never revisit Dr. Dasgupta in his life.

One day an aged morning walker came along with him to his house. Everyone called him ‘Bhole Nath’. He taught him some ‘Yoga Asanaas' for a complete cure for his condition. Badal da did those Asanas religiously for about two weeks, but his condition remained the same. Finally, he got disillusioned with Bhole Nath and his ‘Asanas’.

Then one day, someone suggested him to go to a surgeon in Ranchi.

"He will open your abdomen and fix the problem permanently. You go and tell him that I have sent you. He knows me very well. I have referred many patients to him, and all got cured," he said.

The very thought of surgery sent a chill down Badal da’s spine. He did not agree.

But he instantly agreed to one suggestion given by one another morning walker friend, who was a senior person of the group and spoke very little. He suggested him to go to a nearby place and see a ‘Baba.'

"Early in the morning, you take a bus from Mango Bus Stand to Katin. Tell the conductor to drop you near a village called Basantpur. There you will find bullock carts. Hire one to take you to the Baba's Ashram. You don't have to say anything to the Baba. He will just put his hand on your head and will tell you what your problem is. He will give you ‘bhabhoot'. Take that ‘bhabhoot' for four weeks. You will get completely cured."

Badal da was enthralled to hear that he would not have to give a lengthy description of his ailment. Baba will not do any physical examination. Just put his hand on his head and diagnose his condition. His body shivered with pain just by thinking of that particular examination done on his rear end by the doctors. He asked, “Do I have to go for once only or every week?”

“You have to visit him every week. Bhabhoot will have its full effect only when you take it from Baba’s hands.

The next morning, he boarded the first bus at around five in the morning. It felt so good to travel in the morning. He enjoyed the morning air and the tranquil surroundings.

His co-passenger dozed off frequently and would keep his head on his shoulder. Every time Badal da objected, he said sorry and after few minutes again, rolled his head over his shoulder. Badal da started talking to him to keep him awake.

He was also going to the Baba’s Ashram. This was his third visit, he said.

“What was your problem?” Badal da asked him.

"I was not able to sleep for days. And now you see, I almost got cured," he said and folded hands in respect after chanting Baba's name.

Badal da became curious, “Did you have to tell your problem or he just....?”

“No-no. He just placed his hand on my head and told me that I was not able to sleep.”

“Well, what was his diagnosis?”

“He said, I was having ‘Vishamaavastha’ of ‘Vaat’ rog. He gave me the ‘bhabhoot’ himself and asked me not to take bitter and astringent food.”

Badal da asked him, “Don’t you think he gave you an overdose of bhabhoot?”

He smiled and said, "No-no, you are mistaken. I had to get up early today, and I could not complete my full quota of sleep last night.”

Then he asked about Badal da’s problem and listened to him silently. In the end, he assured that Baba would cure him.

Badal da did not have to ask the bus conductor about Basantpur village. His co-passenger stopped the bus and asked him to get down. Many passengers also got down there. They hired bullock carts on a share basis. Their journey into the woods started. Altogether four bullock carts started for Baba's place from there, taking all the passengers who got down there to meet the Baba.

It was so thrilling to travel on a bullock cart among the trees on a beaten track that Badal da forgot all his pains. They traveled for about two hours, and still, they did not reach the destination. He asked how far yet to go. His co-passenger informed that they had covered almost half the distance.

The bullock cart journey, which was so enjoyable in the beginning, had become very painful now. The onward trip was not yet over. He had to take the return journey too. All the bones in Badal da’s body started aching. He wondered if he was going to develop a spine problem after getting cured of stomach pain.

They reached there almost by noon. Many people were in the queue for Baba's ‘darshan'. His co-passenger asked him to hurry and stand in the line, and he eloped after saying he had an urgent need to relieve his full bladder.

Baba was sitting in a thatched mud house. There was a cow shade where many Jersey Cows were tied. In another shade, there were Jamnapari giant goats. Four villagers were engaged in cleaning the shades and arranging for their feed.

There was one girl who was collecting the cow dung in a basket made of stalks of some wild plant. There was sound of cows mooing, goats bleating and murmuring of a small group of people who had gathered there to see Baba. It was altogether a different kind of a world. Badal da liked the environment.

After about half an hour, Badal da's turn came. He entered the room. It was full of dust. A layer of dust covered the walls, the table and the floor. He bowed his head before Baba. Baba touched his head and said, "You are not able to eat anything. Your stomach pain doesn't allow you to sleep properly. You are leading a miserable life. Tell me if I am wrong.”

“Satya Wachan (Rightly said) baba,” Badal da was awestruck.

“What is my diagnosis Baba?” he asked

“You have ‘aggravate pitta rog’,” then he asked him to open his mouth.

Badal da opened his mouth and Baba put some ash like thing on his tongue and asked him to sit for half an hour without speaking a word. It was a tasteless powder.

Badal da came out. One assistant of Baba took him to a raised platform where all those people, who had seen Baba, were sitting on a rug with their mouths shut. Nearby some food was being cooked in a large pot. The smell of the food was delicious. His mouth started watering and he felt hungry.

He had not taken any food since morning. He looked around to see if there was any food stall. But there was none. He had brought a bottle of water with him. He took out the bottle and was about to sip when a person sitting next to him produced a sound from his throat while keeping his lips closed and signaled with his arms not to open his mouth. Badal da understood and closed the cap of the bottle. He showed his gratitude through his gestures for reminding Baba’s instructions.

He liked the sign language and tried to convey that he was hungry and asked where he would find food. He was happy that the other person understood and he replied with the movement of his hands and the sound from his throat. He had successfully conveyed that the food that was being cooked was for Baba’s guests. Badal da became relaxed to know that the food was available.

After about an hour, Baba also came and sat on the platform with them. He ordered his disciples to serve the ‘Prashad'. Food was served on banana leaves consisting of Khitchdi, vegetable, pickles and Chutney. They all relished the simple menu with Baba. When they finished the meal, Baba took leave of them and went to take rest.

Next, the bullock cart drivers sat on the platform and had food. Badal da was very impressed with the generosity of Baba.

He walked around leisurely to look for his co-passenger. He was not there. He got worried. How will he go back on the bullock cart, leaving him behind? Both of them had hired the cart for the two-way journey. After having his meal, his bullock cart driver asked him to ride the cart and said, "Don't bother about him, Sahib. He will come on some other cart."

"But, where did he go?" Badal da was wondering.

Before they started, a disciple of Baba asked them to assemble. He instructed them what should they eat and what not to eat. At the end of the speech, he asked them to put their offerings in a box. People lined up and started putting money in the box. Badal da noticed that some message was painted on the box – Minimum Donation Rs. 2000/-.

"Why a minimum Rs. 2000/-?" he asked the disciple.

“Bhabhoot is made of ‘Swarn Bhasm’ (Gold Ash). That is why it is so effective.

“Unwillingly Badal da dropped two thousand rupees in the box and consoled himself by saying – If it works, then it is still very cheap.

All the bullock carts were ready to start for the return journey. Badal da again looked around to spot his co-passenger. He could not locate him. He sat behind in the cart, and off they went. In the mid-way, he started feeling uncomfortable. His stomach was churning, and it felt like his heart stuck in his throat. There was intense burning sensation down the throat.

He asked the driver to stop and vomited whatever he had eaten. This happened over and over again. He was so exhausted that he rolled on the hard bamboo floor of the cart. With every jerk, he would scream with pain. By the time he reached the Basantput bus stop, he was hardly able to stand on his legs.

The vomiting continued. The moment he took water in his mouth, it would come out. Seeing his condition, the bullock cart driver called an unqualified village doctor. He gave him painful shots of injections in both his buttocks and started saline water infusion. Badal da was laid down on the back of the cart. He was hardly able to open his eyes or move.

He heard two buses come and go. All the passengers had gone. The village doctor made the speed of the saline drip fast so that the bottle finishes before the last bus came. His vomiting had stopped, but weakness persisted.

Suddenly he started shivering. It increased in the next few minutes to such intensity that his teeth began clattering. He felt like he was dying. He moaned and tossed feverishly. The bullock cart driver asked the village doctor what was happening.

"This is only rigor because of the fast speed of drip," he said very casually and injected some medicine through the saline tube. Slowly the shivering stopped.

When the bus came, he was loaded inside somehow. The village doctor charged five hundred rupees for his services. The bullock cart driver instructed the conductor to take care of him. The bus started. After a while, he vomited inside the bus.

All the passengers started complaining loudly about why they had allowed a seriously ill person on board. After a bout of vomiting, Badal da felt a little better. He opened his eyes. Somehow they reached Mango bus stand. The bus conductor loaded him again on a tricycle rickshaw and asked the rickshaw puller to take him to the nearby Medical College Hospital.

Badal da was still not in a position to sit correctly. The rickshaw puller took him carefully to the hospital. He did not allow him to fall on the road by adjusting his sitting posture now and then.

When he was laid down on the hospital emergency bed, he took out a hundred rupees note and gave it to the rickshaw puller with gratitude. While waiting for the doctors and nurses to attend him, he fell asleep.

A doctor forcefully awakened him. He asked him what had happened. He somehow told that he has repeatedly been vomiting. The nurses fixed saline bottles and shifted him to the ward. He felt very week and again fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, he came to his senses. He found himself in a ward among other patients. Everyone in the room was sleeping. Someone was snoring very loudly. A saline bottle was hanging by his side. A tube was running down from the bottle, feeding his vein through a needle fixed in his arm. He wanted to go to the toilet. He called out loudly. But no one came. He got up and removed the bottle from the stand, and went to the bathroom, holding the bottle in his hand.

When he came back, he found that a ward girl was looking for him in the room. She screamed at him, "What are you doing? Why didn't you call us?"

“I called. No one listened to me. I had to release the pressure. What could I do?” Badal da complained.

The ward attendant examined the needle fixed in his arm and again shouted, “See, you displaced the needle.”

His blood had flowed out of his veins into the tube. She removed the needle from his arm and hung the bottle with the tube on the stand. She asked him to lie down and went away. Badal da tried to remember how he reached here. He was agitated at himself. Why did he listen to his morning walker friend?

The room was stinking. The linen was dirty. Now another patient joined the first one in the snoring competition. Badal da could not stand the continuous reverberation of unpleasant snoring sound. He came in the corridor. The door of the nurses' duty room was closed. He stealthily walked past the duty room and went out of the building.

It was early in the morning but still dark outside. Few auto-rickshaws were running on the road producing loud noise. One or two people could also be seen. There was no security guard around. He decided to go to his house on foot.

He slept the whole day. Mr. Tanmay came with the lunch and knocked at the door continuously till Badal da got up and let him inside the house.

“Look at your face. Are you ill? Let me take you to the hospital,” Tanmay looked concerned.

"I was in hospital last night. Now I feel little better," and unwillingly, he had to relate to him the whole story. Tanmay scolded him for his misadventure. But he could not stay there for long. He had to deliver lunch boxes to many clients.

It was again a feast day for the dogs behind his window. They growled and fought with each other to get a significant share of the food.

That evening the hospital superintendent set up an inquiry on absconding of one of the patients. The nurses were warned to keep a vigil on the patients, and then Badal da's case sheet was closed with a remark written with red ink – LAMA. It meant the patient left the hospital on his own will – Left Against Medical Advice.

Badal da had become very weak. His whole body was aching, and with every movement, he cried with pain. He could not go for a morning walk for one week. When he felt a little better, he refused to accompany Mr. Tanmay to the park for a morning walk on the pretext of persistent weakness.

Actually, he did not feel like going for a walk. The biggest reason was that he did not want to see the face of the person who had suggested him to go and see the Baba. At the end of the second week, he had to say clearly to Mr. Tanmay that he had no intention to restart the morning walk ever in his life. Mr. Tanmay became very disappointed. But what more could he do?

Badal da again became a lonely man. There was no news from his children. Only once Swati called to ask if her household things were sold out. He assured that he would sell them the moment he found someone.

His three-bedroom house was quite big for a single occupant. But with Swati's furniture and other household things, it looked like a crowded place. Once in a week, he would broom the house, and with all those junk scattered in his house, he hardly could clean it properly.

So far, he had not talked to anybody for disposing of the junk. He thought he would sell it to a scrap dealer and add some amount from his pocket to make the amount decent and send that to Swati.

When he felt very lonely, he wanted to talk to Swati. He also tried many times. But to his bad luck, she did not pick up the phone. Maybe she was too busy to talk to him.

After about three months, she rang up Badal da to inform him that she had become a grandmother. Nivedita had given birth to a male child. Badal da sent her twenty thousand rupees towards the cost of her furniture and other household things. She was surprised at Badal da that he struck such a good bargain.

Days again passed. A time came when Badal da became confined to his room. He would not even go for breakfast. He ate little from what Mr. Tanmay brought for him. He had become skinny and looked very clumsy.

One day he received a call from Tumpa. She was happy to have found a decent job in Hyderabad. She didn't ask how he was. He felt so neglected that he started crying. The pain in his stomach came back with full intensity. He did not take his lunch.

In the evening, he felt a little better. After so many weeks, he came out of his house. He started wandering with a blank mind. He kept on walking for about two hours. When he came to his senses, he found that he was standing on the Mango Bridge.

He caught hold of the railing and peeped below. Reflections of street lights and other lights were dangling on the dark water surface. A thought crossed his mind. If he jumped from there, what would happen to him? Will he die? How will he land in water? Headfirst? He looked at the slow-flowing dark water and strained his eyes. He felt that dark shadow started encircling around his eyes. His head started spinning. He left himself loose and lost contact with the surrounding.

How long he remained in such a state of a trance, he did not know. When he regained his senses, he was standing in front of his apartment. He had an age-old habit of coming home before it was too late. Probably that reflex brought him back in his trance.

He had lost his flippers somewhere on the way. He winced in fear. How he reached here, he did not remember at all. He stood there silently and felt that he was not going to live for long.

“Tumpa and Babla, please come home. I want to see you once before I die,” he cried helplessly and sat down on the ground. The dogs, which he fed daily, flocked around him and started sniffing him. He held the neck of one black dog and pulled it close to his chest and started weeping.