The Aunt Who Wouldn't Die by Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay

Author:Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-05-17T16:00:00+00:00

Part Four

Boshon

I cannot explain how barren the second floor feels. I occupy three enormous rooms. My mother doesn’t like that I live here by myself. An entire terrace and as many as three coveted rooms had lain vacant for a long time. They would be swept and cleaned and then put back under lock and key. I demanded that I be allowed to move in.

They tried to dissuade me, even scolded me. But eventually I did get my three-room kingdom on the second floor. Ma and Baroma used to spend the nights with me at first, in case I felt frightened. But I feel no fear at all. I love living alone. I can sense an eerie desolation blowing through the three rooms and the terrace all day long. It’s not the wind, but who knows what it is that whistles through the rooms.

The entire floor is packed with furniture. A huge, heavy bedstead, several large wooden wardrobes, a marble-top table, a big clock with a pendulum on the wall. Dolls lined up in a glass case. All of these had belonged to a great-aunt of mine who died before I was born. What a tragic life she had! Married at seven, widowed at twelve. How fortunate I wasn’t born in that time! My god, what a horrible system. No wonder women are rebelling for freedom.

My friends visit me sometimes. They’re astonished to see what a big space I live in. Some of them envy me too. And a few say, “Oh, lord, I’d die of fear if I had to live here alone. How do you manage? So brave, honestly.”

There was a big discussion one evening. Suddenly Chanchal said, “Look, Boshon, you could be kidnapped.”

I said in surprise, “Kidnap? Who’ll kidnap me?”

“It suddenly occurred to me last night, my god, Boshon is the perfect target. They have so much money, and she’s the apple of everyone’s eye. Considering the times we live in, criminals can easily kidnap Boshon.”

Indrani said, “No one will kidnap her. But the danger for Boshon lies elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“Anyone who marries her will get a kingdom of sorts, right? I bet lots of people will want to marry her.”

She wasn’t wrong. My jethu, my father’s brother, has no children. I am the only child of my parents. Everything will come to me.

Tilak said, “It’s not for nothing Mr. Chatterjee, a respected lawyer, wanted to marry her. It’s true, Boshon, you have to be very careful.”

He spoke with so much authority that we started laughing. I said, “Want a slap? You think they all want to marry me only for my money and nothing else?”

“You have an excess of everything, honestly,” said Jhinuk. “There’s divine justice for you.”

Bachhu said dispassionately, “Boshon is beautiful all right, but that classical beauty doesn’t work in this day and age.”

I asked in surprise, “Are you saying I’m worthless?”

“I’m not saying that,” Bachhu replied knowledgeably, “but those aristocratic almond-shaped eyes and plump cheeks and lustrous curls are not valued anymore. Tastes have changed.

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