On her way to the office, Sajo suddenly saw a school student involved in an accident. She forgot all about her office, left her motorcycle, and rushed the injured boy to the hospital in a car. Did she know the boy? Was he a relative? A close acquaintance? Many questions were on people’s lips, and also in Sajo’s heart. Who was he? Why was she so worried just because she saw a little blood on the boy’s foot? Yes, she did know the boy. Sajo couldn’t quite figure out the exact relationship in the intricacies of Bengali people. But she felt a deep pull, where the distinction between the relationship of blood and the one beyond blood was insignificant. Because this boy, who had torn the umbilical cord to see the light of the world, had Sajo roaming freely within the layers of that cord.
Let’s delve into the memories of a few years ago. When Sajo was twenty-nine, his parents brought home a bride as beautiful as a red rose, the perfect match in their eyes. With much fanfare, music, and a house filled with relatives, Sajol’s marital journey began on a joyous note. The initial years were as dreamy as he had hoped. His wife was not only beautiful but also had a charming personality. After two years of blissful married life, marked by mutual admiration, Sajol’s father succumbed to an incurable disease. This was the turning point in Sajol’s life. With a promotion at work and a relocation to a new house in the city, he embarked on a new phase of his life. As he settled into this new chapter with his wife and widowed mother, a dark cloud began to loom. The longing for a child, coupled with his mother’s earnest desire to see her grandchildren, gradually pulled Sajol towards a different trajectory. The man who once returned home from work to a softly lit room filled with the romantic tunes of Rabindranath Tagore, showering his wife with love and care, now returned home drunk every night, hurling abuses and, at times, even resorting to physical violence.
Thus, sorrow descended upon Anirima, Sajol’s wife, within a very short span of her married life. The darkness of the night was taking on a more horrifying form with her husband’s increasing cruelty, just as the daily rituals, incantations, and pujas of her age-old, superstitious mother-in-law were becoming more unbearable. Anirima was not only beautiful but was also equally educated as Sajol. She had a secret desire to enjoy her married life beautifully, and that’s why she didn’t want to work. Moreover, her father was quite wealthy. Perhaps it was for this reason that she couldn’t sacrifice her self-respect. However, before leaving her husband’s house unconditionally, she tried several times to prove her innocence through medical examinations, but just as emotions often defeat reason, here too, science was defeated by her husband’s patriarchal attitude and her mother-in-law’s superstitious and inferior mentality.
Anirnima ended her four-and-a-half-year marriage with tears as her only witness. The wife of Sajol chose not to pursue any legal or social proceedings. After dreaming of an independent life as she had heard in stories, Anirnima left her decorated home and returned to her father’s house. Yet, she continued to count the hours, waiting for the storm to subside and for her marital life to begin anew. Although they didn’t have any children, the man she had vowed to spend seven lifetimes with was all she thought about. But fate had other plans. Despite Sajol’s initial reluctance, his mother’s intense desire to see grandchildren forced him to marry again within a year.
Even though science has proven certain truths, Sajol remains childless. However, all of Anirnima’s hopes and aspirations have been sacrificed.
To restrain Anirima, whose restless mind often led her to secluded, dark rooms and even suicidal thoughts, she was once again forced into a marriage, against everyone’s wishes, due to her father’s influence and her own God-given beauty. Though she was not as educated or beautiful as Sajo, she found a husband who was completely devoted to love and duty. Gradually, she adjusted to her new life, leaving behind the sorrows of her past. With each passing day, Anirima’s realization of God’s will deepened, and soon, she gave birth to a son who looked exactly like her – a true reflection of her village upbringing. The two families, being only a few kilometers apart, were well aware of each other’s lives. However, Sajo, still shedding silent tears, is a story for another time. It’s impossible to forget the past, no matter how hard one tries.
Sajo has been secretly following this life, heavy with first loves, first experiences, and so on, extracting whatever little joy it has to offer. The gratification he has been seeking, this wounded boy has now received, albeit through an accident that’s not too severe. Yet, seeing the boy in pain, Sajo is startled and feels a pang in his heart. A sob wells up in his chest and then stops. Who is he? Who is this boy? What is their connection? What will he say to Aniruma if she asks? In this way, the web of relationships is gradually unraveling for Sajo.
