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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Character Based
- Published: 05/01/2015
Vasundhara
The car whizzed along the interminable black undulating road, stretching as far as the eye could see. Vehicles in the far distance appeared as tiny specks, gradually gaining form and identity as the speeding car reduced the distance between them. On both sides of the six lane highway, bifurcated by the grassy divider, lush green paddy fields basked in the wintry sun.
Vasundhara leaned comfortably against the seat, gazing out of the window. The car had become quite cold, so she told the driver, “Will you turn down the AC a bit?” The driver, a taciturn man, complied silently and the car sped on.
Vasundhara smiled softly as she recalled the first time that her son Suman had proposed this trip. Suman had changed, oh so much, from the soft spoken affectionate boy he had been before he went to the management institute. But for just that instance, when he had said, “Ma, you have not had a change of scene for such a long time, you do need a break after all the tension of the past few months!” he had been transformed to that caring youngster he had been long ago.
Vasundhara could hardly contain her joy at the idea of the whole family going on a holiday together. “Do we all go?” she asked tentatively. It seemed too good to believe.
Suman had pulled a wry face and said, “No Ma, that won’t be possible. The kids’ schools are open and they cannot afford to miss their classes. Besides, somebody has to be here to mind the business and put it back on track after the recent disruptions.”
He saw her frown of disappointment and hastened to reassure her, “But, Ma, you can rest assured that you will like the place. It is a beautiful and scenic resort and you will find a lot of people of your age to give you company. I am sure that once you reach there, you will find it hard to tear yourself away from the idyllic place.”
Vasundhara thought wryly, 'I suppose they need their space after the tensions of the past months. Besides, Suman needs to take control of the company now and reassert his authority. After all, I won’t be around for ever to intervene when things turn difficult.' But still, she would miss her grandchildren, for their company meant so much to her. She nodded reluctantly and said, “Okay. But where is this place?”
Suman smiled enthusiastically and said, “You will love the place, it’s so beautiful! It is on the foot hills of the Ayodhya range of hills – right in the midst of Mother Nature. It comes highly recommended by Satish – you know Satish Chawla? His parents had been there and loved the place. I have arranged it so that you can leave next Monday. It’s better to go by road, since in this weather, you will enjoy the drive. It will take six hours or so. If you leave early after breakfast, you will reach there for a late lunch.”
So here she was, on the road to her holiday destination. It had been difficult saying goodbye to the children, especially to Tania, who simply adored her and stuck to her like a leech after returning from school. So much so, that she often had to gently chide her to go and do her studies and homework. Kushal, who was now fourteen, had lately developed a maturity and a mentality which prevented him from being as free and easy with her as he had been before. When she remarked that she saw very little of him these days, he replied that he was so busy doing his things that it was difficult to find time to chat with her. But both had hugged her before leaving for school, asking her to enjoy herself. Tania, when she had first heard of her imminent trip, had insisted that she would accompany her grandmother even if her parents and brother did not go. It had needed a firm veto from Suman and Lolita and some gentle persuasion on Vasundhara’s part to convince her that she could not afford to miss her classes in mid-semester. She relented with ill grace and sulked for the rest of the week before regaining her ebullient self once again.
She had expected Kishore, their driver, would be taking her in the family car. But Suman said that he had a couple of meetings to attend with their bankers and their main stockists and he would need the car for the major part of the day. He had arranged a hired car to take her to the resort. As she had got into the car, Suman had unexpectedly stooped down and touched her feet. She looked at him, surprised; after all, she would be away for only a couple of days. There was, in Suman’s face, an expression she could not fathom – one of forlornness, tinged with, guilt? Perhaps he was feeling guilty for sending her away alone instead of them all accompanying her on the vacation.
As she got into the car, Suman said, “Ma, you can stay there as long as you like. Don’t worry; we will take care of things here. Just give me a ring if you need anything.” Lolita did not appear at all as she left.
It had been a difficult six months they had spent, six months during which Vasundhara was half afraid that they would have to wind up the pharmaceutical company, which her husband had so assiduously built up through sixteen years before his death of cancer. Suman had been just thirteen when Pankaj died. Her father-in-law was too sick and infirm to take on the responsibility of running the business and it had fallen on Vasundhara to take over the reins and run the company.
Slowly, she; a housewife and home maker till then, had learnt the intricacies of the business – of what products they made, what were the raw materials and from where they were procured, the manufacturing processes and the intricacies of drug laws and pricing and marketing. Besides, she had also had to learn about the art of managing people. For a person whose interaction had been limited to immediate family members and friends, she suddenly had to contend with the task of managing the 150 employees of the company.
Suman did his schooling and under graduation from Calcutta before going to Ahmedabad to do his MBA from IIM. Lolita had been a year junior to him and they had fallen in love and married as soon as Lolita had completed her course. To be honest, Vasundhara had been slightly apprehensive at Suman marrying a non-Bengali girl, doubtful of how she would fit in with their culture and way of life. But Suman seemed so smitten with her, that he refused to consider marrying anyone else. Lolita came from a Punjabi business family, extremely aggressive in their management style and expanding rapidly in the knitwear business floated by her father.
Vasundhara had thought it fit that now that Suman was qualified enough, she would hand over the job of managing the company to him and she would take a mentoring role. His management education was sure to help improve their business processes and make them more competitive and efficient.
While Suman’s initial suggestions were well received by the management and the employees, things changed, once Lolita also joined in managing the company’s affairs. Like a typical Punjabi, she was blunt and brash. A lot of times, she said the correct thing or had a legitimate point of concern, but the way she said it riled most of the senior management personnel who took it as an affront that an upstart young girl would pay so little respect to their years of experience in the company.
Lolita talked of productivity norms and efficiency norms and how, with the resources they had, they should be making double the turnover that they were presently achieving. Vasundhara had remonstrated, they hadn’t done all that badly either, and though they may not have increased business significantly, they had a consistent if modest growth rate. Suman had said, “Ma, but we need to objectively assess what we are capable of achieving instead of being complacent about our modest targets. We have to benchmark ourselves against the best in the industry and grow aggressively.” Vasundhara had preferred to remain silent and had slowly eased herself out of the day to day management and left it to her son and daughter-in-law. She started going to office on alternate days and gently directed the employees who approached her with their grievances to Suman for resolution.
She thought with a pang of Asutosh Sinha, who had retired last year after 29 years spent with the company. He retired as their Director (Technical) and had been the Chief Chemist at the time Pankaj passed away. He had stood by her in those initial years, steady as a rock while he patiently guided her through the labyrinth of day to day management of the company. But, to her credit, it was Vasundhara’s transparent honesty and her feeling for the employees, whom she treated as members of her larger family, which made them fiercely loyal to the company and helped them tide over the difficult times together and consolidate its position in the market.
A frown creased Vasundhara’s forehead as she thought what a pity it was that the convivial family atmosphere in the company had become so vitiated that there actually had been a strike in the company. There had never been a strike or any sort of labour agitation in the company in the past 30 years of its existence – not even at the height of union militancy which seemed to have affected nearly all industries in the State. The unions had insisted on discussing the issues directly with her if she wished the strike to be lifted. Ultimately, she had had to mediate directly and make Suman and Lolita agree on toning down some of the more aggressive efficiency measures, reduce the quantum of efficiency linked variable pay and increase the fixed pay component before the unions agreed to call off the strike. She fervently hoped that Suman and Lolita would learn from their mistakes and strive to restore the mutual trust that had existed between the employees and management.
The green fields of Burdwan had now been replaced with slightly more arid landscape, as the car travelled past Durgapur city with its large steel and thermal power plants. She could do with a cup of tea and she asked the driver to stop at the next decent restaurant. After another five kilometers of so, the car slid into the parking bay of a restaurant and Vasundhara got out of the car and was glad to stretch her legs after sitting in the car for the past three hours. She asked the driver to have any refreshments he wanted and went into the restaurant and ordered a pot of tea and some vegetable sandwiches.
After using the washroom, Vasundhara thought she would give Suman a ring and tell him that she was enjoying the drive, as she waited for the food to be served. She searched her hand bag but was dismayed to find that she had left her mobile behind. She would have to wait till she reached her destination before she could ring home on the land line from there.
Finishing her tea and sandwiches, Vasundhara settled the bill and walked back to the car. The driver was already standing before the car and opened the door for her. She asked him whether he had eaten something and he said, “Yes, memsaab.”
The car turned on to the highway and picked up speed once again. The landscape had become more arid, interspersed now and then with the derricks over the underground coal mines that dotted both sides of the highway. She took out the novel that she had brought with her to read on the way but found that the jerking of the car made reading difficult, so she closed the book and gazed out of the window. The suburbs of Ranigunj whizzed past as the car sped on. She had been to the town once long ago with Pankaj. It had been a thriving coal town then, with many coal mine owners residing there. The Ranigunj Club had been one of the best in the area, with an active social life. That was before the coal mines were nationalized. And now, she understood, the town had lost its old world charm and vibrancy and become like any other district town.
She must have dozed off for some time, for when she awoke, she found the car travelling through undulating landscape of bare fields and rocks. She looked at her watch and saw that it was getting on to twelve thirty. She had been travelling for the best part of five hours now, and they should soon be reaching their destination.
The midday sun was quite scorching and the hilly terrain got bleaker as the car sped on. The surface of the road too had deteriorated and it was bumpier than before.
After another forty five minutes or so, the landscape changed. There were little copses every now and then, with one storied brick houses or mud houses standing in clusters every kilometer or so. Some distance further along, she could she some wooded hills, indistinct in the afternoon haze.
The car traversed the foot of the first hill than veered sharply up a dirt road from the foot of the second hill and into the sal tree forest. There was a gradual incline as the road twisted and turned up the hillside. After some ten minutes or so, they were out of the woods and driving through a gateway. There was a signboard over the gate, but the car was going too fast for Vasundhara to read what it said. She could read only the last words “Home” as the car sped past. Even though it was still a dirt track, it had been leveled and made for a smoother ride. The driveway was lined with shrubs and overlooked smooth manicured lawns which were remarkably green. Every now and then, sprinklers spurted a mist of water on the lawns. The driveway traversed the side of the hill in loops and finally ended before an imposing, two storied bungalow painted a brilliant white. The car came to a halt on the gravel driveway before the main entrance of the bungalow.
Vasundhara stepped out of the car and stood looking around her. There was a wide verandah which stretched on both sides of the entrance, with comfortable wicker chairs placed at intervals along it in front of each room, which overlooked the green lawn sloping down from the house. Huge shade trees were dotted across the lawn, while neat flower beds, vibrant with colour were spread all across the lawn in a random pattern. Vasundhara could see the forest through which they had come further down the slope and the highway far below, a truck driving down it looking like a tiny insect. And dominating everything was the utter silence of the place. Vasundhara looked down both sides of the verandah. There was not a soul in sight anywhere. There was a dull thump as the driver took out her suitcase from the boot of the car and closed it.
Vasundhara stepped through the main door of the building and found herself in a wide passage, with doors opening off it into big rooms. The room to her right appeared to be a sitting room, more of a hall, with comfortable sofa sets placed all across. The door to the left was closed. Crystal chandeliers hung at intervals from the high ceiling of the passage and the floor was of highly polished red cement. She walked down the passage, till she came to a door with a nameplate on it, saying “Anuj Biswas, Manager”. She could hear the soft murmur of voices from within the room.
The members of the Dhanbad Railway Ladies’ Circle were visiting the residents of the old age home, as they did twice a week. They chatted with the residents, wrote letters for those who were too infirm to do so on their own and generally provided the company and the contact with the outside world that they so missed. The ladies came around ten o’clock and stayed with the residents till their lunch time, after which, they had some refreshments with the Manager in his office before going back. The Manager welcomed the visits of the ladies, since it provided a change from the daily routine for the members of the home and helped cheer them up.
There was a gentle knock on the door, and the door was opened. Twelve pairs of eyes swiveled around as they saw a lady pause uncertainly at the door way, taking in the crowd of people in the room. She was exceedingly beautiful, in her late fifties or early sixties, with her salt and pepper hair tied neatly into a bun. She looked so dignified, as she stood at the doorway, looking enquiringly at the throng of women in the Manager’s chamber. Mr Biswas rose from his chair behind the table and went towards the lady still standing just inside the doorway saying with a broad smile, “Aah, you must be Mrs Sengupta! I hope you had a comfortable journey. Welcome, welcome to Paradise Old Age Home! I am sure you will enjoy staying with us.”
A look of utter bewilderment enveloped the lady’s face, as the driver placed her suitcase just inside the door of the room and left. Vasundhara seemed frozen where she stood. As the Ladies’ Circle members and Mr Biswas watched with bewilderment, a look of sheer anguish transformed her face as she pressed the edge of her sari to her face and crumpled slowly to the floor, whispering softly, “Suman, o Suman, why could you not have told me!”
Vasundhara(A Chowdhuri)
Vasundhara
The car whizzed along the interminable black undulating road, stretching as far as the eye could see. Vehicles in the far distance appeared as tiny specks, gradually gaining form and identity as the speeding car reduced the distance between them. On both sides of the six lane highway, bifurcated by the grassy divider, lush green paddy fields basked in the wintry sun.
Vasundhara leaned comfortably against the seat, gazing out of the window. The car had become quite cold, so she told the driver, “Will you turn down the AC a bit?” The driver, a taciturn man, complied silently and the car sped on.
Vasundhara smiled softly as she recalled the first time that her son Suman had proposed this trip. Suman had changed, oh so much, from the soft spoken affectionate boy he had been before he went to the management institute. But for just that instance, when he had said, “Ma, you have not had a change of scene for such a long time, you do need a break after all the tension of the past few months!” he had been transformed to that caring youngster he had been long ago.
Vasundhara could hardly contain her joy at the idea of the whole family going on a holiday together. “Do we all go?” she asked tentatively. It seemed too good to believe.
Suman had pulled a wry face and said, “No Ma, that won’t be possible. The kids’ schools are open and they cannot afford to miss their classes. Besides, somebody has to be here to mind the business and put it back on track after the recent disruptions.”
He saw her frown of disappointment and hastened to reassure her, “But, Ma, you can rest assured that you will like the place. It is a beautiful and scenic resort and you will find a lot of people of your age to give you company. I am sure that once you reach there, you will find it hard to tear yourself away from the idyllic place.”
Vasundhara thought wryly, 'I suppose they need their space after the tensions of the past months. Besides, Suman needs to take control of the company now and reassert his authority. After all, I won’t be around for ever to intervene when things turn difficult.' But still, she would miss her grandchildren, for their company meant so much to her. She nodded reluctantly and said, “Okay. But where is this place?”
Suman smiled enthusiastically and said, “You will love the place, it’s so beautiful! It is on the foot hills of the Ayodhya range of hills – right in the midst of Mother Nature. It comes highly recommended by Satish – you know Satish Chawla? His parents had been there and loved the place. I have arranged it so that you can leave next Monday. It’s better to go by road, since in this weather, you will enjoy the drive. It will take six hours or so. If you leave early after breakfast, you will reach there for a late lunch.”
So here she was, on the road to her holiday destination. It had been difficult saying goodbye to the children, especially to Tania, who simply adored her and stuck to her like a leech after returning from school. So much so, that she often had to gently chide her to go and do her studies and homework. Kushal, who was now fourteen, had lately developed a maturity and a mentality which prevented him from being as free and easy with her as he had been before. When she remarked that she saw very little of him these days, he replied that he was so busy doing his things that it was difficult to find time to chat with her. But both had hugged her before leaving for school, asking her to enjoy herself. Tania, when she had first heard of her imminent trip, had insisted that she would accompany her grandmother even if her parents and brother did not go. It had needed a firm veto from Suman and Lolita and some gentle persuasion on Vasundhara’s part to convince her that she could not afford to miss her classes in mid-semester. She relented with ill grace and sulked for the rest of the week before regaining her ebullient self once again.
She had expected Kishore, their driver, would be taking her in the family car. But Suman said that he had a couple of meetings to attend with their bankers and their main stockists and he would need the car for the major part of the day. He had arranged a hired car to take her to the resort. As she had got into the car, Suman had unexpectedly stooped down and touched her feet. She looked at him, surprised; after all, she would be away for only a couple of days. There was, in Suman’s face, an expression she could not fathom – one of forlornness, tinged with, guilt? Perhaps he was feeling guilty for sending her away alone instead of them all accompanying her on the vacation.
As she got into the car, Suman said, “Ma, you can stay there as long as you like. Don’t worry; we will take care of things here. Just give me a ring if you need anything.” Lolita did not appear at all as she left.
It had been a difficult six months they had spent, six months during which Vasundhara was half afraid that they would have to wind up the pharmaceutical company, which her husband had so assiduously built up through sixteen years before his death of cancer. Suman had been just thirteen when Pankaj died. Her father-in-law was too sick and infirm to take on the responsibility of running the business and it had fallen on Vasundhara to take over the reins and run the company.
Slowly, she; a housewife and home maker till then, had learnt the intricacies of the business – of what products they made, what were the raw materials and from where they were procured, the manufacturing processes and the intricacies of drug laws and pricing and marketing. Besides, she had also had to learn about the art of managing people. For a person whose interaction had been limited to immediate family members and friends, she suddenly had to contend with the task of managing the 150 employees of the company.
Suman did his schooling and under graduation from Calcutta before going to Ahmedabad to do his MBA from IIM. Lolita had been a year junior to him and they had fallen in love and married as soon as Lolita had completed her course. To be honest, Vasundhara had been slightly apprehensive at Suman marrying a non-Bengali girl, doubtful of how she would fit in with their culture and way of life. But Suman seemed so smitten with her, that he refused to consider marrying anyone else. Lolita came from a Punjabi business family, extremely aggressive in their management style and expanding rapidly in the knitwear business floated by her father.
Vasundhara had thought it fit that now that Suman was qualified enough, she would hand over the job of managing the company to him and she would take a mentoring role. His management education was sure to help improve their business processes and make them more competitive and efficient.
While Suman’s initial suggestions were well received by the management and the employees, things changed, once Lolita also joined in managing the company’s affairs. Like a typical Punjabi, she was blunt and brash. A lot of times, she said the correct thing or had a legitimate point of concern, but the way she said it riled most of the senior management personnel who took it as an affront that an upstart young girl would pay so little respect to their years of experience in the company.
Lolita talked of productivity norms and efficiency norms and how, with the resources they had, they should be making double the turnover that they were presently achieving. Vasundhara had remonstrated, they hadn’t done all that badly either, and though they may not have increased business significantly, they had a consistent if modest growth rate. Suman had said, “Ma, but we need to objectively assess what we are capable of achieving instead of being complacent about our modest targets. We have to benchmark ourselves against the best in the industry and grow aggressively.” Vasundhara had preferred to remain silent and had slowly eased herself out of the day to day management and left it to her son and daughter-in-law. She started going to office on alternate days and gently directed the employees who approached her with their grievances to Suman for resolution.
She thought with a pang of Asutosh Sinha, who had retired last year after 29 years spent with the company. He retired as their Director (Technical) and had been the Chief Chemist at the time Pankaj passed away. He had stood by her in those initial years, steady as a rock while he patiently guided her through the labyrinth of day to day management of the company. But, to her credit, it was Vasundhara’s transparent honesty and her feeling for the employees, whom she treated as members of her larger family, which made them fiercely loyal to the company and helped them tide over the difficult times together and consolidate its position in the market.
A frown creased Vasundhara’s forehead as she thought what a pity it was that the convivial family atmosphere in the company had become so vitiated that there actually had been a strike in the company. There had never been a strike or any sort of labour agitation in the company in the past 30 years of its existence – not even at the height of union militancy which seemed to have affected nearly all industries in the State. The unions had insisted on discussing the issues directly with her if she wished the strike to be lifted. Ultimately, she had had to mediate directly and make Suman and Lolita agree on toning down some of the more aggressive efficiency measures, reduce the quantum of efficiency linked variable pay and increase the fixed pay component before the unions agreed to call off the strike. She fervently hoped that Suman and Lolita would learn from their mistakes and strive to restore the mutual trust that had existed between the employees and management.
The green fields of Burdwan had now been replaced with slightly more arid landscape, as the car travelled past Durgapur city with its large steel and thermal power plants. She could do with a cup of tea and she asked the driver to stop at the next decent restaurant. After another five kilometers of so, the car slid into the parking bay of a restaurant and Vasundhara got out of the car and was glad to stretch her legs after sitting in the car for the past three hours. She asked the driver to have any refreshments he wanted and went into the restaurant and ordered a pot of tea and some vegetable sandwiches.
After using the washroom, Vasundhara thought she would give Suman a ring and tell him that she was enjoying the drive, as she waited for the food to be served. She searched her hand bag but was dismayed to find that she had left her mobile behind. She would have to wait till she reached her destination before she could ring home on the land line from there.
Finishing her tea and sandwiches, Vasundhara settled the bill and walked back to the car. The driver was already standing before the car and opened the door for her. She asked him whether he had eaten something and he said, “Yes, memsaab.”
The car turned on to the highway and picked up speed once again. The landscape had become more arid, interspersed now and then with the derricks over the underground coal mines that dotted both sides of the highway. She took out the novel that she had brought with her to read on the way but found that the jerking of the car made reading difficult, so she closed the book and gazed out of the window. The suburbs of Ranigunj whizzed past as the car sped on. She had been to the town once long ago with Pankaj. It had been a thriving coal town then, with many coal mine owners residing there. The Ranigunj Club had been one of the best in the area, with an active social life. That was before the coal mines were nationalized. And now, she understood, the town had lost its old world charm and vibrancy and become like any other district town.
She must have dozed off for some time, for when she awoke, she found the car travelling through undulating landscape of bare fields and rocks. She looked at her watch and saw that it was getting on to twelve thirty. She had been travelling for the best part of five hours now, and they should soon be reaching their destination.
The midday sun was quite scorching and the hilly terrain got bleaker as the car sped on. The surface of the road too had deteriorated and it was bumpier than before.
After another forty five minutes or so, the landscape changed. There were little copses every now and then, with one storied brick houses or mud houses standing in clusters every kilometer or so. Some distance further along, she could she some wooded hills, indistinct in the afternoon haze.
The car traversed the foot of the first hill than veered sharply up a dirt road from the foot of the second hill and into the sal tree forest. There was a gradual incline as the road twisted and turned up the hillside. After some ten minutes or so, they were out of the woods and driving through a gateway. There was a signboard over the gate, but the car was going too fast for Vasundhara to read what it said. She could read only the last words “Home” as the car sped past. Even though it was still a dirt track, it had been leveled and made for a smoother ride. The driveway was lined with shrubs and overlooked smooth manicured lawns which were remarkably green. Every now and then, sprinklers spurted a mist of water on the lawns. The driveway traversed the side of the hill in loops and finally ended before an imposing, two storied bungalow painted a brilliant white. The car came to a halt on the gravel driveway before the main entrance of the bungalow.
Vasundhara stepped out of the car and stood looking around her. There was a wide verandah which stretched on both sides of the entrance, with comfortable wicker chairs placed at intervals along it in front of each room, which overlooked the green lawn sloping down from the house. Huge shade trees were dotted across the lawn, while neat flower beds, vibrant with colour were spread all across the lawn in a random pattern. Vasundhara could see the forest through which they had come further down the slope and the highway far below, a truck driving down it looking like a tiny insect. And dominating everything was the utter silence of the place. Vasundhara looked down both sides of the verandah. There was not a soul in sight anywhere. There was a dull thump as the driver took out her suitcase from the boot of the car and closed it.
Vasundhara stepped through the main door of the building and found herself in a wide passage, with doors opening off it into big rooms. The room to her right appeared to be a sitting room, more of a hall, with comfortable sofa sets placed all across. The door to the left was closed. Crystal chandeliers hung at intervals from the high ceiling of the passage and the floor was of highly polished red cement. She walked down the passage, till she came to a door with a nameplate on it, saying “Anuj Biswas, Manager”. She could hear the soft murmur of voices from within the room.
The members of the Dhanbad Railway Ladies’ Circle were visiting the residents of the old age home, as they did twice a week. They chatted with the residents, wrote letters for those who were too infirm to do so on their own and generally provided the company and the contact with the outside world that they so missed. The ladies came around ten o’clock and stayed with the residents till their lunch time, after which, they had some refreshments with the Manager in his office before going back. The Manager welcomed the visits of the ladies, since it provided a change from the daily routine for the members of the home and helped cheer them up.
There was a gentle knock on the door, and the door was opened. Twelve pairs of eyes swiveled around as they saw a lady pause uncertainly at the door way, taking in the crowd of people in the room. She was exceedingly beautiful, in her late fifties or early sixties, with her salt and pepper hair tied neatly into a bun. She looked so dignified, as she stood at the doorway, looking enquiringly at the throng of women in the Manager’s chamber. Mr Biswas rose from his chair behind the table and went towards the lady still standing just inside the doorway saying with a broad smile, “Aah, you must be Mrs Sengupta! I hope you had a comfortable journey. Welcome, welcome to Paradise Old Age Home! I am sure you will enjoy staying with us.”
A look of utter bewilderment enveloped the lady’s face, as the driver placed her suitcase just inside the door of the room and left. Vasundhara seemed frozen where she stood. As the Ladies’ Circle members and Mr Biswas watched with bewilderment, a look of sheer anguish transformed her face as she pressed the edge of her sari to her face and crumpled slowly to the floor, whispering softly, “Suman, o Suman, why could you not have told me!”
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