The Visit

The Visit

I stopped a few seconds, as if to muster courage, before entering the dilapidated, two-storied building. It was a late afternoon in June, and my first monthly visit. Her room, as I knew, was in the extreme north corner on the first floor. I had come here the month before to settle her in her home to be – for the rest of her life. The room had a slovenly look about it, was dimly lit, very humid, and the fan moved ever so slowly. The window was shut tightly. I wondered why. The walls had a nondescript colour. Quite obviously the room had not been whitewashed for a pretty long time. The floor too was unclean. In short, it was a dreary, dingy place – and I had selected it for her. But what else could I do? I didn’t have much of my salary left after doling out the heavy installment every month for the loan I’d taken for our new flat, the money I had to give Sheetal for running the house, and after meeting all the other expenses. This was the best I could arrange for her.

She was sitting on the bed, her hands resting on her lap. The bedspread and her saree matched the colour of the wall. I felt a pang in my heart to see her drooping shoulders, the haggard look on her face, the dark circles under her eyes. Her dull and depressed eyes lit up when I entered, a ghost of a smile appeared on her face. I remembered her old jovial disposition, always so eager and inquisitive about everything.

I looked at the fan. “The regulator does not work. You can open the window if you wish. But be sure to shut it before you leave. Mosquitoes swarm in after dark”, she said in a tired voice. I wanted to take her hands into mine, but refrained. Instead I asked like a fool.

“ Well how are you?”
“Why are you asking? Can’t you see for yourself?” she retorted.

“Do you eat and sleep properly? You look thinner and weak” I carried on.

This time she did not answer but heaved a long sigh.

“How is your wife? (She always referred to Shettal as’your wife’ and it irritated Shettal). You’ve not brought her along? And how is Pumpu darling?”

“They are OK. Pumpu’s exams are on . That’s why..” I did not finish my sentence. I was feeling guilty and found myself groping for words. But she seemed not to notice and drawled on about the other inmates of the old age home, her new fund companions. She was narrating stories about old and abandoned people – how Senbabu had fallen from the staircase and broken his leg how Meetai, the youngest among them, visited everybody in the morning … things that interested me the least. She had become garrulous with age, and at home, Pumpu was her best companion. The two of them were inseparable. I often wondered at the sight of them, one so old and one so young – chatting happily, like two friends of the same age. But Sheetal never liked it. “A bad influence on Pumpu”, she would grumble. Pumpu was much more attached to dadima than her own mother.

Suddenly I remembered that Pumpu had given me a card for her. I took it out from my briefcase and handed it to her. It was a simple card made out of Pumpu’s drawing book page folded in two. One the front, she had drawn yellow and red flowers. Inside, she had written in her childish handwriting. “To Dadima with Love” . at the bottom, she had added – “Dadima please come back soon. I miss you very much.” Pumpu was too young to realize that her dadima was not going to come back to live with us. She looked at the card and stopped talking. She was almost clutching it to her bosom. Tears started flowing freely from her eyes. I felt so miserable. I stood up and touched her feet. “I think I should be leaving now. It is getting late”. She nodded her head, touched my head and said “Take care” in a chocked voice

I was walking back, head bowed, dejected and defeated man. I hated myself and felt like a beast. Here was my mother – a lonely widow, infirm with age, who had cared for me for so long, had given her best years for me. And here was I – abandoning her in this godforsaken hellhole. I almost turned back from the door and said “Maa don’t worry. I am here. I will take care of you. I will take you back home. You will live in peace,. You and Sheetal”. But someone inside me urged me to go out of the room, down the stairs and into the street. I looked up and saw many old men and women looking down eagerly at me – for I could have been their son who had come to pay them the monthly visit. I thought of my new flat – lovely and neat. But could it be called “home” ? I wondered.

A Rose for Mother

A rose, a jasmine, a tulip for you!

Whatever I say, however I do,

my tributes are ever so small for you

Like the ocean, like the sky

Deep and endless was your love for me!

God touched me through your hands Mama,

Nectar you fed me.

Standing by the river where time flows

I beg for a chance a –new

To tell you this was really how I felt,

Mother! that is my Love for You

Privately yours

Mr Barat attributed a host of qualities to himself. He thought he was a perfect gentleman- which perhaps he really was; he prided himself for being an excellent judge of human nature , which did not always prove to be right and that he considered himself to have been endowed with an enormous masculine appeal , according to his female colleagues, was the biggest joke on earth.

Mr B N Barat was the Senior Manager of Mackilsons & Magor, originally owned by the British but now looked after by the State and as was the case with most state owned companies it was on the brink of being declared a sick unit producing spare parts . Mr Barat was looking at a leave application that was lying on his desk with apparent distaste. That lady wants leave again. What nonsense, leave cannot be sanctioned, not so frequently . Mr Barat pressed the bell. Send Ms Sonali in - he howled.

The woman who drifted in looked more like a faded and dehydrated leaf . She had wrapped herself with the pallu of her saree. It was end December and very cold, but as always she was without shawl. How could such a frail woman withstand cold was a wonder. Mr Barat involuntarily shuddered under his warm tweed coat. The saree she had borrowed from her second sister-in-law was quite heavy and protected her somewhat from the December cold wind . Most days she had to borrow sarees from her sister-in-laws (there were three of them) and she very considerately and carefully selected the ones that were kept for the laundry and she limited her demands to the essentials only leaving the luxury of worm clothes much to the relief of her sister-in-laws.

Her daughter was burning with fever when she left home today for office. Chinki was only eight years old. Sonali gave her a tablet commonly prescribed for fever and promised, she would return early and take her to the doctors. She also promised to take a few days leave from office.


Mr Barat did not try to hide his displeasure.

Ms Roy, you take leave too often to be good for the office. Please don’t take it otherwise, but don’t you agree that ladies should best be looking after home and children rather than take up positions at offices, thereby displacing some good male candidate, a bread earner of a family. The office needs working hands and not vacant seats. I am sorry I can’t grant you any more leave. Please try to understand.

Sonali came back to her seat resigned to her fate. She knew what she would do. She would simply not come to office for the next three days. Not because she had promised her daughter but because she can’t leave an ailing child all alone. It is very easy to say you should not join office and remain a housewife only, but how can such housewives like Sonali, fend for herself and her child if she cannot work in an office because she takes leave too often. Bread earner indeed, so what is Sonali doing , play acting?

Deeply disturbed Sonali came back to her desk and to her work. She had to finish her pending work. She took the petty cash payment ledger and made the entries mechanically with a frown on her small forehead. These part time sweepers, they are a nuisance, Sonali mused. Always after money, putting fictitious bills for cleaning, carrying garbage. Sonali could distinctly remember there was no garbage on the compound last Monday as the office closed in the morning following the news that Mr Samanta, their Accountant expired in a road accident. Still Ramdeen had placed bill for cleaning garbage from the compound on Tuesday. There were a few more bills to be entered in the register, a few vouchers to be made and she thought of sending the register alongwith the vouchers to Mr Avik Sengupta, the Assistant Manager. On a second thought she herself went to his chamber. She must get these signed today itself. Mr Sengupta was having the usual after lunch long and leisurely chat with Mrs Depali Sinha, a catchy young lady with a reputation of leaving a string of broken hearts behind her beautiful frame.

Mr Sengupta gave her a wan smile- please Sonali why don’t you leave them on my table. Err.. I am rather busy…

Sonali looked at the dump of files, registers and papers on his table waiting to be attended to. I won’t take much time. I am sorry Sir, but these must the signed urgently. I am waiting…

Mr Sengupta gave a hurried and cursory glance through the papers and counter signed. Relieved Sonali sent the vouchers for payment.

The next two days were just night mare for her . Chinki’s temperature rose to a limit and the child shivered and started talking in delirium. sonali bathed her daughter repeatedly. She was constantly by her side, bathing her, watching her with anxious eyes, caressing , feeding whatever little liquid she could consume, and taking temperature at intervals. None of her in-laws was by her side with a helping hand as usual, but they also did not disturb her or called her for doing any household cores, for which sonali felt immensely grateful. In her delirium the child cried for her father which made the hapless mother more distraught. Three year ago, Kabir, her husband simply vanished from her world. He was the draftsman of a newspaper house. One day he did not reach home. Some of his colleagues said they saw him near the Howrah station and some of them even asked him where he was going to which they did not get any straight answer. At first Sonali thought that Kabir must have gone to Bandel, where her elder sister-in-law lived. But a few telephone calls later she was again at her wits end. Kabir had not been at any place they knew of. For one whole year Sonali waited for him in vain and she still nurtured a faint hope at a corner of her heart that some day Kabir would return to her.

Monday Sonali reached office quite early and did not panic when Mr Barat called for her. She decided to show the boss the doctor’s prescription, and so she started putting the paper on his table first thing on entering his room. Mr Barat brushed it aside saying no need…, no need… and asked her to take a seat which was rather unusual. Sonali sat on the edge of the chair with a palpating heart; surely she will not be dismissed for taking unauthorized leave.

Sonali , the office owes an explanation from you. He put out a hand to restrain sonali, who was about to speak. You have made a grievous mistake in the payment register . For you, a sum of Rs.1000/- had been paid in excess to the electricians who placed a bill for Rs.3999/- + Rs.202/- and you have put the total as Rs.5201/- instead of Rs.4201/- and the bill has been duly paid . sonali take my word for it, if you can’t make the electrician deposit the excess amount by tomorrow to the office cashier, I would be constrained to issue a show cause letter to you.

Sir please, let me explain, sir I was really very much worried about my daughter’s health. Sir I am giving you back the money- now, right now. Sir please don’t take such an action.

Why should you return the money, you have not taken it yourself, nor did you do it deliberately . Was there a sarcasm hidden behind these words? Sonali could not gauge.

Mr Sengupta, spoke in her defense “ sir I can vouch for her, she won’t do any such thing. It was a clerical mistake only.”

Well, a costly mistake Mr Sengupta, and the office cannot overlook such carelessness.

Mr. Barat was, after all, not an unkind man but he had a set of fixed outlooks on life. First among them was that women should not be seen in the workplace. Their ideal work arena, according to him should be confined to their kitchen and if need be they can work in educational institutions at the most.

May be thought that men will be men and they can take certain liberties, like flirting away their valuable office time inside office premises and with their junior colleagues and can afford to overlook mistakes such as the present one while countersigning important bills and vouchers for payment but the blame should squarely be put on the weaker shoulders.

Mr Barat did not really intend to take any serious action on the incident if the money was returned safely but he wanted to teach Sonali a lesson. That it is a serious world, this workplace, that proper attention and care should be taken while performing office duty and that she should not have the audacity to defy his order and stay at home freaking away time meant for office work. Men also have families but they cannot afford to neglect office for family . So should be the case with women. If they cannot take such a stance, they have, according to him, no right to be in this place in the first place.

Sonali by nature was a very private person and fighting continuously with adversities in life had made her doubly so. She could hardly recall when was the last time she shed any tears. But this was a situation where tears were very much in demand. Mr Barat, the ultimate word of manliness, always melted before a weeping female. It would suit his male ego in the right place and in the right degree. But this is not the stage, so glycerin won’t do. Sonali decided that she must do what she had never done before; she must pour out her life’s misery before this man. Pity, the word that she hated most, was her only resort, for she can’t afford to lose the job. She can’t take any chances either. She was not yet confirmed in her post.

Mr Barat listened to Sonali’s typically tragic life story with a peculiar gleam in his eyes. It seemed to Sonali as if he was mentally licking her wounds and the feeling of suffocation and drowning came back to her. She stopped midways and hated Kabir like never before for leading her to this unenviable situation showcasing herself as the wronged woman, abandoned by husband neglected and ill-treated by the world in general just to arouse pity in strangers , to get things done in her favour. Why is it that when husbands leave their wives they take away their dignity with them?

Madhouse

Hoping against hope

Hope you are so near yet so far away;
The day begins with you until it fades away
Into the dark shadows covering my dreams
I wake up with sweats on my face and drums
Beating in my heavy heart- in the middle of night.
Hope, each day I try to come closer and you run far away
Your golden rays forever eluding me.
The evening approaching with its pink eyes looks so soft
In the western sky fascinates me- and my heart again
Starts hoping may be tonight you will come my way.


I used to dream about him quite frequently- and to my delight ' they ' my dreams were so happy. Those were the days when he was trying to draw my attention and slowly but steadily my heart was floating towards him. I was feeling guilty but I could not resist liking hem.
The fool that I am ' I went to Miss Barua and asked whether it is wrong to find somebody, other than my husband attractive. She said it is quite Okay, because the mind can be as young as 25 even at 50 but she also said something vague about not taking it too seriously or crossing the limit. I wander how can such uneducated and foolish woman run a professional clinic.
I dreamt that night a barbed wire fencing dividing my space into two halves. I was standing on one side where steps were going down to an ocean like river. On the other side of the fence Bittu in his school dress was sitting. I asked for his hand, he said ' I will give it to you after I finish my job'. So I thought I would wait, in the meantime, bathe in the river water. I was feeling apprehensive if the river suddenly turns rough, if huge waves drown me. But no, to my relief the river was quite calm.
In the morning I was wondering if the river symbolizes mother, what does the other side indicate. But I did not go to Miss Barua for explanation.
But from then on I was coming into closer proximity and our eyes met several times, with several emotions clearly visible, to me. I used to stay awake at night, wondering about those naughty, affectionate, determined to win over like expression in his eyes. It is true I was falling in love but why should he try it on me. Obviously, he was young, much younger than me. My suffering started. So the caution of Miss Barua went like straw dusts with high wind and I was flying like a gas balloon- full of coloured dreams.
.
This was a kind of feeling, I just could not suppress , nor could I let him go away, without letting him know how much he meant to me so I wrote the poem.
When silence is the only mate/ distance is dear/ A lonely voice looses string/ A heart is broken here
Well, why was he asking me those questions, are a mystery. He wanted to know about my married life whether we are happy. I did not tell him that day. Actually he was asking questions in such a guarded way, and I was so ashamed of myself. I tried to remain cool and be careful not to expose my softer side, I was not in control why should I be emotionally tortured thus. Why can't he just leave me alone?
Day before yesterday again I dreamt that he was calling my name- twice. I was sure it was him. I woke up and could not go to sleep any more. Yesterday in the afternoon again he came into my dreams, I saw him with wife in a semi dark room, asking me to tell about my life. I was having a mixed feeling. I wanted to tell him but was feeling hurt and humiliated . so I said I won't , then he vanished with his wife and I was calling after him frantically, please come back. I want to show all my wounds, I want to tell you every little thing that happened to me that hurt me how much I suffered in silence all through my life- but he was gone. So I thought I would write him a letter telling him everything but I could not come out of my bed. I could not break my dream, after a brief struggle, I was awake, and started to look for papers to write my life story and mail it to him- suddenly it dawned on me that I do not know his address- no, I know his address but I just cant send it to him for he so clearly told me to get lost with my foolish notions.
. I was so happy like old times. My marriage to Bittu's father was arranged and there was nothing between us than adjustment . My husband was twelve years my senior, a widower without issues, a man I never could love. May be the fault lies with me as I was in love with Ramesh my childhood friend and had to bow to the wishes of my orthodox father by way of sacrificing my love and marrying somebody I never could love. I found him repulsive, a hairy sort of fellow with a habit of blowing his nose and clearing his throat throughout the day. May be because he was a chain smoker and also addicted to snuff. But he did very well in his business and monetarily I felt secured. When my youngest sister married her boyfriend , who like Ramesh belonged to a different cast, I confronted my mother ' why is this discrimination, only to learn with disgust that being the eldest, my marriage to a Kayastha would jeopardize marriage proposals of their other issues. How selfish of them .
My husband lived in a different part of the country than my parents, with the passage of time and the birth of Bittu, Ramesh became a thing of the past, a sweet dream that once filled my heart. Bittu¦ Bittu¦Bittu¦..all round me- he was my world, I doted on him from the very first day I set eyes on him. My Bittu, my own son has grown into a handsome young man, I feel proud of- very much a mama's boy.
Then Hemen came to my life like a gust of wind that has traveled through lands and oceans over years and years from time immemorial. He was my husbands doctor- my husband was dying with cirrhosis of liver, was in extreme pain and I tried in every possible way to make his death as painless as possible, may be to atone for my inability to give him love. I arranged for everything that an institution could for a patient and that included Dr Hemen Basu, the most sought after, young and versatile doctor in town.
When , how and why it happened I do not know but it was too late- already I was upto my nose under water- I wanted to be rescued but there was no one that I can turn to Hemen, Hemen and Hemen, I craved for him, his tall stature, slightly stooping, loomed over me, his deep eyes penetrating mine, trying to drag out the truth. It was like my girlhood days, I kept forgetting that I was a mother of a grown up son, a wife of a husband who is in his deathbed and I plunged into the sea of sin. It is true I did not go into physical relations, as I was that typically hypocrite pretending that going to bed with Hemen is committing adultery but, craving for him, dreaming and imaging are not - a sad and degrading notion that women are taught from their childhood. Instead I waited on him with lust and servility neglecting the cause of his being here, pumping authority and confidence into the already arrogant soul. I was living in a make-believe world, full of nonsense romantic ideas and started attributing things that existed in my mind to Hemen, making him someone bigger than life. He kept on trying to nab me, whenever he would be at our place, with Bittu away in Bangalore and my husband in deathbed. May be he was not sure of me and did not dare force it on me, the fool that he was, I would have loved being forced into it, in that way I could have a clear conscience but nothing like that happened and one day death came silently and took away everything that I possessed.
After the funeral was over, Hemen came and bade us farewell. I felt as if a part of me was going away and I looked at him with panic ' Hemen appeared so aloof, so indifferent. Bittu and he shook hands and I sat there , with a burning heart, for a very different reason that a new widow may suffer from. Hemen had been coming to attend to my husband for the last one year during which period I never had the occasion to call him. He had always been very punctual very unlike doctors, and then there was that nurse who looked after my husband who might have contacted him in emergency. I dialed his mobile number- ring, ring, ring¦ and no answer. Once, twice , thrice. I thought it was entirely possible, he being a doctor, that may be he was busy with a patient. But I was impatient, I must reach out, I must talk to him, I must hear his voice, right now. So I dialed his home number. Someone else, a lady answered "No he is not home.. any message? May leave with me, I am his wife. Ofcourse, so foolish of me, how could I be so naive, never thought of his wife, his family, there was no reason at all to take it for granted that he was a bachelor, no reason at all. But it was a kind of a blow that I could not take smoothly- I put down the receiver slowly.
Bittu was reclining in a sofa with the newspaper in his hand when I told him that Dr Hemen Basu was married. Bittu reacted strangely. So what ' are we going to find bride for him and he laughed callously. "But Bittu Hemen loved me all these months, he cannot have a wife, it is unjust , he cannot do this to me. I talked some more about my feelings about Hemen when I read hatred in Bittu's eyes- " You bitch, you cheated on papa in his deathbed.. How could you ? have you gone out of your mind. " But Bittu you don't understand Hemen was mine , how can he have a wife, please son, call him, I will talk to him, I will die without him, please Bittu¦. I begged of him.
Everybody thinks I have gone mad but they don't understand how wrong they are. I looked out of the small high window to the night sky. I could see the full moon with its golden halo and a part of me wanted to be with Hemen. 'Hemen where are you' some one cried inside! Are you too looking at the moon Hemen? It is impossible- how could I be so knave? The way he looked at me. Was it all imagination. Did he only played with my feelings. My head throbbed violently. I so vividly recalled the innumerable occasions that I felt his presence, that our eyes met and the current that passed through. Can it be true that Hemen is not really married. Should I have made another call. But no they all said the dcc is married. The son of ¦¦. If only I could cry but it seems everything inside me have dried up. Oh Bittu, my child, my only son. Don't anybody care for me ? What is my fault? Will some one give me a glass of water! Is anybody there! I want to go to sleep. They have put me in this mad house but why, why can't I love someone of my own choice, why should I not satisfy my hunger, the burning desire, that my husband did not or could not. Why should I be a sucker, why could I not use Hemen for my satisfaction and throw him away- why?


Love!

I want you near me, I want you love
Are you in the empyrean, blowing with the winds
Floating in the ocean water or in the streams
Or have you been scorched dry
Can you hear me cry?
I want you dear me, I want your love
Echoes come bouncing back from the concrete world
The vibes I desperately send beyond your skies
They keep coming back
Can’t you hear me cry?
Desire that was secretly hiding in my soul
For the love in your body, unconquered unknown
Come to me oh Love , oh Love
Come to me as a boon !

Desire

"I love you too much but you do not respond. Actually you do not know me- I mean to say you don't realize how intense my feelings are. I am surprised with myself. Even after so many years, my love for you is as fresh and as young as ever. Why do you act so aloof! Why are you so rude to me? I want to be loved- not just physically but I crave for emotional, sentimental, soft and touch love.. something I can only dream of¦.
This was how Renu started . But she could not proceed further. She felt disgusted with herself. It is no use, no use at all. Renu tore the page from her diary as he has thrown Renu out of his heart! Has he really? Renu pondered over this particular point for some time. Does he possess a heart- of course not biological but atleast something to do with love, affection, emotion and what not. Renu decided against it. Bipin is definitely heartless. Renu could think of a hundred reasons good enough to prove it but she was not in the mood. She has no time. She remembered she had an appointment with the dentist- Dr.Roy Chowdhury. Funny, sort of fellow. How could such a dumb looking chap become a doctor is a wonder- but then he is only a dentist. Renu hoped Dr. Roychowdhury wouldn't keep her waiting for long. The appointment was fixed a 5.30 and it is already 5.15. She brushed her long hair and tied it into a ball, she put on her red chiffon, the latest , presented by her father and studied her reflexion in the mirror.. She was looking pale and not her usual self. She applied a little blush on- . Now she felt confident. Renu took the duplicate key of their flat, locked it and came out in the street. Shs opened the garage and stroked with love their blue Indica, another show of her dear father's affection for her. She never learnt driving though. Typical of her. Bipin is there, he will drive. Bipun did not object in so many words but he did not like the idea also that Renu should learn driving. For Bipin Renu was someone who can cook well, look after their two sons and keep the flat neat and tidy. She is also good in bed. Here also Renu stopped and pondered- is she really good in bed?- then why, they why- what went wrong! Renu suffered so much, suffered in silence. Renu wanted to tell Bipin how much she loved him. In these years of their marriage life she never uttered those words. She felt shy, she felt embarrassed. Bipin is always so casual, so matter of fact. Renu could almost visualize how Bipin would react if Renu expressed such emotions and blushed in shame. Renu rebuked herself- don't be silly. She muttered softly then suddenly became self conscious. But thank God no one was watching. She was still inside the garage.
She came out and pulled down the shutters. Stopping a taxi Renu hopped into it. The Sardarji asked "memshab, kanha jana hai?(lady, where would you like to go).
Renu took a deep breath and suddenly she felt that all she wanted was to be alone- alone with her dreams and fantasies evolving a lovely rainbow in the western sky. A September evening was approaching. The sky has taken a very soft hue of colours all mixed up with pink, blue and golden bringing with them memories of her childhood.
Renu Dear ! come over to our place for a few days. Ritu and her children are also coming. They will be here for a fortnight. It would b nice having you two sisters and your kids spending the pujas with us.
But papa.. You know I can't leave the house even for a day , let alone a week. The housemaid has taken leave and then there are so many other things to be attended to and Bipin has to go to office too. He wont be able to manage all by himself.
Don't be absurd Renu. Bipin is not a child. Your mom used to stay with her family for months together.
But papa you are different. Bipin is not like you- he is so helpless without me. I will go and meet Ritu ofcourse, but stay, I cannot.
Very well child, as you wish. But send my grandsons over- will you.?
Ok papa. They will be delighted
With a sigh Renu put down the receiver in the cradle when Bipin almost pounced on her.
What was that? why did you lie. Who told you I won't be able to manage by myself. You dirty liar. I would be the happiest man on earth to see the back of you. Pack your baggage and off with you this moment.
"Bipin please- not before the kids "Renu pleaded.
Bipin looked at her large eyes filled with dog like devotion and hurt
Oh shit, don't you look at me like that, you dumbbell? Bipin took a step to strike her but restrained himself when he looked at two pairs of terrified eyes clinging on to their mother like parasites.
Oh damn it- he stormed out of the room.
Oh mummy, please come with us to grandpas', pleaded the two in unison in a hushed voice lest they; arouse their father's ire.
Now, don't .. go to sleep like good boys. And don't be naughty at your grandpa's house. I can't leave your father alone, who will look after him, who will cook for him, who will wash his cloths, make his bed- she murmured more to herself, while tucking them to bed.
She came into the bedroom and closed the door softly. Even after putting out the light, she took some time to come to bed.Bipin turned impatiently, and found her warm and soft body naked beside him. The bitch, Bipin murmured under his breath while entering into her. That a woman so dumb, frail and timid could possess so much fire astounded Bipin every time he made love to her. It seems there is an insatiable fire burning inside her, which engulfed Bipin, destroying him, making him feel insufficient. He was never sure that he had conquered her totally.
Two very different souls lay side by side, exhausted and bitter, bound by a common desire.



He She and Love

He winked an eye
Now I shall dieMoaned Love
He had a body of burning passion
Eyes full of fire
She was only a lonely soul
Pining for a heart of gold
Loosing her way in Love’s desire.
The sun was shining in his eyes
The moon in her heart
With downcast eyes
Love standing bySaid
‘Dear here we part’.