Avarice

Avarice   av(ə)rɪs/

noun

1. extreme greed for wealth or material gain.

"he was rich beyond the dreams of avarice"

synonyms:		greed, acquisitiveness, cupidity, covetousness, avariciousness, rapacity,rapaciousness, graspingness, materialism, mercenariness; More

Bolpur Now

Mrs Moushumi  Roy Counciler Ward 52 Rishipur Central 24 Paraganas Kolkata was not happy. Her head was throbbing with all the thinking that had kept her awake since two days . She also found a new sort of sickness it seemed her fingers felt vibrations like the ones coming of idling autorichkshow whenever she touched anything with a hard surface .This has started mildly two days back. At first it felt hardly traceable but the discomfort was growing. She had immediately consulted a Doctor it was her diabities which had already pumped her into a mid size balloon or god forbid something new.She had recently acquired a few bruises and scratches on her arms and back courtesy of that same incident. In the heat they itched terribly.The doctor had asked not to scratch she asked if she could get an infection and he had given her pills.Pills do they do any good she preferred the hypodermic syringe direct too the blood stream.Next the  idiot had nothing but a round of tests which cost money bloody leech .Well maybe it was the weather Kolkata was just a boiling pot designed to cook you in your own fat. Two days of shit she decided to go to her Farmhouse.

 She lay sprawled on sheer yellow silk sofa among oversized cushions done up in crimson red watching serials .The two large three liter ac,s kept the room in near freezing temperature considering the loo that blew outside in the midsummer Bolpur,Bordhoman District, about a good 200km from the city.The place over run by holiday cottages built on sold for dirt farm lands .The rich complaining of the pollution flocked to greener pasture. The size of your firm land denoted your standing .Hers was nearly one of the largest two acres.

The TV big enough to fill nearly the entire wall spewed Bengali drama at its melodramatic best in deafening  volume. The other walls were decorated by prints picked from Big Bazar home decoration section holographic image of dogs, cats and gods .The pictures changed depending on your angle of view dogs changing into cats and Shiva or Ram changing into Durga or Sita respectively .One wall was taken up by a extra large of a supposedly portrait made by the chief Minister herself. The portrait was further accented by plastic vases of plastic flowers. There was a table beneath with the remnants of burnt up incense stuck on a small lozenge of dried clay.

The ceiling fan rotated unnecessarily among plastic ceiling decorations false novices, cornices of un explained intricacy and colours.Mrs Roy watched the serial but only watched. Her mind was elsewhere.

It was that old miser that old fart .People won’t understand what it takes to take when destiny has but only a clutched fist to offer. That bustard kept everything and gave nothing but a three hundred meter hole in the ground of the most prime real estate land in Ward 52 Rishipur. How the hell did he manage it explosives, earth movers some new technology. Her list of possibilities didn’t run long even with all the help her class five educations could provide. However how the hell does a a five  thousand square feet palatial bungalow with all its treasures  turn into a gaping hole in under six hours with no one knowing right in the middle of the city.Thats what has been the migrane pain in her head .

Actually the problem had started a  three  days back the last two days were just the toping to the cake  .The last few months things have spiraled progressively out of control which had not been the case with her until now .Her life had been rough, unpredictable swim up from the bottom scum of slumurbia  Kolkata it had its moments but there she was cool confidant and in control.

  Mrs Moushumi Roy (nee poddar) was born to a nondescript lower middle class family. She reminiscences back life meant a small room cum kitchen, urinal and bedroom and nothing else. That would have been it from one rat hole to another. She decided quite early in her life she won’t have that in fact she will have it all. That kept her going from one little corner cigarette shop to four, one large shop plus a gas agency and all and sundry. Keeping the party happy kept the goodies and then there was the real estate business. Rishipur was nothing more than a bundle of dilapidated old houses with old people left behind by children gone to US,Europe ,the Gulf etc.Old diabetics,rheumatics rotting corpses. That was before she became councilor now it’s the place filled with five six storey high rises if not anything else. Old crumbling houses with stylized columns, porticos all old and falling apart torn down to build the new development. That was a year back she took a handsome cut extended her fleet of commercial vehicles buses, matadors etc and payed respect to the party and that’s that. Then one day Mukul the contractor comes up that there will be no longer any projects as there was no more land to build upon. This was not good elections were along the corner in another six seven months and she nedded all the money she could. She had not seen that coming and then it had to happen someday and then you relize the freezer is empty and you are damn hungry.

“You are not telling me there are no plots as you can see I am not blind”

“Not the ones the folks want to  give away didi”

She smiled these idiots’ amateurs. The once that won’t give away took time she increased the bargain two flats for a rundown buildings they can’t manage, lengthy negotiations took her time took her patience .Then when you have spent a good part of your childhood to get in a line to pee in a communal bathroom because you didn’t want to pee by your door next to your kitchen and bedroll in a hole just below the door plank connecting to the sewer line on the street you get a lot of patience.

Then she met Dwarakanath Mukharjee and then things grinded to a halt.Her pain alleviated as she clenched internally   silently without any foreseeable change in her expression .the frequency of the vibrations she felt in the internal depths of her cranium as if she was working in the line of heavy machinery her body resonating to the hum of the machinery increased half a notch.Still not an change in her expression. That man that 80 yrs old bastard a old shroud skeleton drapped in moth eaten silk gown in the middle of Kolkata summer with there original color long faded .

However the man was nothing without the stage the three thousand square feet palatial bunglow with the greek portico standing in a large garden of ancient mango trees .But that was a century ago now it was mostly a brick pile age had popped in the middle of a jungle. The tiled roof have fallen the columns holding a frieze of which only a half remained .there were trees growing out from the cracks.The mango trees blocked out the sun and only beams of light reached the ground .The entire ground was an inch thick with weed,creepers, dried leaves and decay.

In the middle of it crounching  head resting on an ivory stick was the skeletal remains of Mr Dwarakanath Mukharjee.One time barrister at law ,MLA etc but one time only the times all gone with much of him and another Barrister stared from the faded oil portrait at the leftover on the once elegent sofa. Again lets take it from the first time they met. The incessant pain numbing growing as if a constant frequency vibrations slowly transmitted around her cranium and it was confusing  the entire flashback in the correct sequence .She had never repented or regrated anything analyzed analyzed  and analyzed and never repeat a mistake. That was her code she dived back into the depths what was it she had missed

 Kolkata  three days earlier

Mrs Roy had prepared much in advance see you can’t maintain these ,your sons have left for overseas sell it I will build a flat on it and relocate you with two flats etc.

There was only one servant who drove a auto rickshaw for he had not been paid.He sneered

“What do you want to talk for, Babu dosent meet anyone”

“Well its for his own good”Mrs Roy insisted

“Well I will ask him ?”

There was no one to offer tea the electricity failed to produce much light in almost decades old bulbs mostly run out and a few hanging on bravely from a cobweb glass chandlier .The sofas were dump with internals running out the floor had a thick dust cover. There were portraits on the walls if only she could see other than the towering barrister in a dark coat fair and plump with a joking smile on the wall. The smell emitting in vapours from the slowly decaying fungus infested drapery and other expensive furnishings mixed with animal offal caused your launch to creep out of your mouth.

It looked like an eon when she first felt the tap of a walking stick, another before a pair of crumpled talons encased in tattered silk sandles followed by the robs evanesced from the corner it took so long it seemed he materialized from the darkness.Each lingering monumentally slow step landing in a inch of dust and giving of a brown eruption of dust. There was hardly any feature left describable just a walking skeleton resurrected complete with the tattered silk housecoat and pyjamas.Like an undead morphing from the ruins in the near dark hall it was easy to imagine that Mr Dwarakanth the lawyer no longer cast any shadows.

She immediately touched his feet much to break the monotony than anything else his rate of approach was too slow to wait.She even lead him to the sofa most natural thing to do given it would have been an eternity of waiting had she left him on his own.

“Live long” the voice echoed in a perfect high bass  she shook her head   hard to believe it came from this decrepit. In the cavernous hall it echoed and gave off a massive boom as if amplified by high clarity speakers the entire effect gave the person an unrealistic dimension as if issuing from a younger taller man.

“Who do I have the pleasure of addressing oh my manners bonne madame de soirée”

“Ah I I …”

“It means good evening,it’s a lovely evening”

“I am Mrs Roy ,,…uhm the councilor”

“Ah Madame Counselor and how may I be of service ah this vermin’s I tell you no tea no coffee,Nimai oi …Nimai”

It took another few shouts to bring Nimai the auto rickshowwala

“Where were you imbecile rascal”the adjectives were in English

“May I ask tea or coffee”

“Tea”

“Bring and be quick if I catch you dear boy smoking hasish that will be the end of you”

The excitement got the better of the old lawyer and he broke into a continuous series of spasms and coughs

Nimai meekly asked”Babu water”

“Be off and bring the tea “

“Help these days”He returned his hollow stair onto her.

“It was about”

“Oh my god I should have offered you something to eat Nimai??”

“No its ok sir”

“Nonesense a guest in Mukherjee house and no one has the decency to offer a little snack even.so Madame Counsilor I am sorry to say I am kept caged in this tomb without the benefits of correspondence  with the world outside “

“Of what ??” his language and words not easy to keep up .

“No newspaper,TV,Radio etc.I am too old to maintain all those.I used to venture out to the library but its gone along with my friends”

“Oh!”

“Good to have you which party are you may I be bold enough to ask?”

Before she could open her mouth he went on

“I was an MLA in Siddharta Shankar Roys Government before the communists ruined everything .My dear girl those were the days I know you would be too young to remember or still not born yet.Hehee”

The old funeral pier feed   really loves his voice Mrs Roy and her formidable patience had to go overtime to keep up.She couldent brake the idea well into the night after two hours of discussing everything on the earth.It all began by her remarking the house has gone to ruin

“Yes it has my dear but what to do I am eighty and this house and me are left to the mercy of vermin’s I do mean literally?”

Nows her chance she thought the life had gone from being in the damp sofa for this long without the benefit of a second round of tea and any snacks.The rickshaw driver never came back after serving two pale once white cracked porcelain cups sans trays with water tea and leaving.

She vomited out the well rehearsed lines sell everything for two flats out routine.

The old men set for some time he had heard it sale the house and land for two flats we will build after we develop your land. They have all heard it and initially a vehement no then negotiations then finally the land is free. That was the routine however in this case there was nothing.  

Why was there no light enough to tell his emotions, what was he thinking, anything. Just an outline of crumpled skin under a bald dome   .She dug her nails into her fingers as she dissected through her memories.  No there was nothing.

Suddenly he began to laugh the room was an huge cavern and the laughter began to echo as if somehow the decrepit has multiplied. It sent a shiver down her spine. It was a good open mouthed laughter that after amplification and repetition from echoes seem to take a life of it’s on and concentrated her long enough to make her smile embarrassingly.                                                                   

“You want to tear down Mukherjee house builds something on it and I am going to give it all away for two measly flats. Madame Councilor jests,hehehe..”he would have doubled up with laughter if his spine would have allowed but he didn’t and just shook on the sofa with laughter.

She would have bombarded “Mukherjee house is nothing more than a brick pile I am doing you a fever but she couldent” The laughter kept her.

When was the last time she had been laughed at when she was small obviously, when she opened her first independent shop often but really how many times in the last few years? Bile gorged through her throat as she remembered but at that moment all she could have managed a cowardly “He He well there is always an option” which caused even more laughter.

“He, He Madame councilor I can’t take any more  you slay me to quote the Americans option indeed I will think on it and oh look at the time sadly my condition won’t allow me your lovely company and I have to retire doctors orders hehe come again one gets lonely, now if you will excuse me, Au revoir ” he got up and disappeared but the halls continued to echo laughter for so long that it took a while to realize that she was all alone in an empty barely light room .The knowledge got her to her feet and she quickly rushed out her ears might still be vibrating from that laughter’s she went out of the gate flanked on both sides by lions or what remained of lions. She had in spite of herself heaved a sigh of relief. Now when she remembered this she felt her anger rise forced to run in fear that had not happened to her in a long time.

She was by bedtime thinking out her other options the elections the money other plots. Something in her told that perusing this nut case was not going to end profitably in the short time let the idiot croak .She should have given up then and put kilometers between herself and that pile of brick Mukherjee house.

Bolpur Now

 Now she shifted her plump ample features on the crushed,crumpled cushions .No rest no reprive even now 200km from Kolkata and all the shit.She asked for more coffee.So what was wrong physicaly?with her? Why the restlessness and the feeling of nausea. Her head ached and throbbed ,her mouth felt the acrid bitter acid taste of two many coffee .She couldent eat properly in the pandemonium of the last two days.Worst of all she could feel the vibrations .Had it increased?was it at all in her head or simply something her nerves were resonating to.Tunning into something from afar and catching up amplifying shaking her brain cells as they are transmitted across .It was only her nerves that were catching the waves it was not apparent on any of the assembled entourage at her feet. It was like standing on solid ground after days on a running train or sailing ship .. Your feet are on solid ground but your body refuses to give up the long associated to and fro motions. Everything feels like moving a virulent vertigo that refuses cure. It was what other people referred as the “train journey” when your body had been stirred and shaken for  46hours or more in iron boxes stashed to the exploding point  with people ,only she didn’t travel in the sleeper coach in a long time now a days she flies

She got up her head spun a bit as she did but she restrained herself from manifesting weakness not her style .Apparently the entourage was too fixated on the tv to notice just as well she thought .She needed fresh air she went to the balcony .The air was hot but fresh and the feeling of congestion and claustrophobia lifted decreasing the nausea but not much.The vibrations in her cranium remained fixated but at least she can ponder her problem .She went back to her memories she needed to know.

Kolkata 2days and about 14:30 hours earlier

All was quite until at exactly 3:30 in the next   morning Mukul ringed her .

“Get to the hospital Dwarkanath had a heart attack or something”

At moments without thinking we are compeled to rush to the rescue not because we have to or we need to its just some primal affections gauding us to save and protect the next fellow human.Its strange because the years teach us against this .Mrs Roy had inexpicably rushed to Mukherjee House with an ambulance and an army of   party workers getting them up from midnight hooch and smack induced coma was a herculean task but she did it .Kicking and slapping them into reality.

Seems the lawyer had called someone most likely his son somewhere in the states they had an argument which woke up the charas addict Nimai out of his stupor but soon replaced by a noise of cracking glass and then silence. The auto richkshaw wallah somehow navigated through the myriad maze of ruins and his overpowering cannabis induced hallucinations to reach the top floor bedroom. He saw one too many relics in a heap of entangled silk gown among faded brown silk drapes and other now trash.

Twenty four hours and an poker faced doctor later she was the recipient of a still alive dead , alive because of drugs and at the same time dead because as the doctor put ”Mild Myocardial infarction or in common parlance a stroke  complicated I will say be age we need to operate or else his case might complicate”.

That’s realy complicated whose gona pay .The Auto rickshawalla Nimai was alternating between the states of  jolly euphoria of charas consumption and   sudden attack of tears knowing that his lawyer master for god knows how long is starting to loose his case albeit a medical one.

 A few hours later  she finaly was able to speak with the foreign US based Shyamaprased Mukherjee.She had tried along using the old lawyers mobile to get the last dialed number which was saved under the name “my sin”. A female voiced had spoken and told her that this was the number of Mr Sam Mukherjee .The few neighbors who had visited the hospital other ghosts from the grave had mentioned that the sons name was Shymaprasad Mukherjee.It was confusing was Sam and Shymaprasad the same person.Then why did the lawyer mention his son as “my sin” whatever that meant.Finaly after some time she was finaly forwarded to the person .She didn’t tell the receptionists or whoever anything about the lawyer because at this point she was not sure she would be talking to the son of the lawyer. It happens in her childhood and even now acronyms are ok but no one shortens the name given by their progenitors Like Moushumi Roy Chowdhry could some times be reffered to as M R Chowdhury but not Mou Chowdhury.

“Ah hallo am I speaking with Mr Shyamaprasad Mukherjee ?”

“Its Sam Mukherjee”The voice lacked the theater grade bass and that  was  clearly apparent  even on the long distance ISD .Furthermore it was even effeminate the vowels were prolonged more than necessary like hallo was pronounced halllooooooooooo. Mrs Roy felt a little bitter taste in the back of her tounge.It subsided immediately hard to imagine the voice coming from the blood and flesh of the lawyer

“Ah right your father Mr D Mukherjee had a heart attack”

“Oh my god ,who is this?wheres whats his name Nimia or something”

“I am am Mrs Moushumi  Roy Counciler Ward 52 Rishipur Central 24 Paraganas Kolkata Nimai had called me”

“He should call me?Is he allright ?”

“For now but needs to be operated and the Hospital needs clearance”

“Whats wrong in that?”

“From a family member “

“He has family members there was someone is Sodepur,I cant remember”

“From immediate I mean”

“Oh but I cant come I am in LA you know Los Angelis”

“Docter says he will die only a matter of time”

“But I cant come immediately I will give you the number I will try as soon as possible I have a business travel you know”

“Please try,,,, “

She hang up her patience had its fill .

“Now what Mukul ??”

Mukul was sitting opposite to her nursing a black coffee they have deposited the lawyer to  his ruins.The sun was up and it was getting pointless trying to sleep.

“What an bastard he caused the heart attack had I been there In the lawyers place I would have not lasted till the hospital”

“Well so”

“The Lawyer is just a bag to be heaved on the pyre and lit,wait it out enough witnesses to say he gave  the property entirely to you”

She fell silent several hours earlier she had detested the lawyer but know .Had she mellowed down a bit a skeleton of a once powerfully man bereft of everything other than a ruin and a addict. Was that her mistake????

No she had felt bad but not enough that’s what happens to the rich they grow alone taking everything from everyone else sharing nothing and then they die alone. The poor are never alone not in happiness, sadness, fornication, urination, defecation, disease or death. The poor share everything. She knows all to well she had been poor she hated the big houses there cars dresses them. No she shook her head trying to balance out the increasing vibrations with her own no the answer lay elsewhere and she will scourge it out.

She didn’t sleep the next day of the heart attack even after Mukul had left she only had pretended it was the heat inspite of her refrigerated bedroom .In the evening she decided to vist the corpse in its tomb .it was still three she decided to take out the airconditioned Honda city to travel three blocks far.At the gate she parked the car outside and entered through the lion gate .Mid summer heat had not much effect under the shade of the ancient behemoth mango trees nothing got in other than the beams illuminating headless limbless torsos on fountains and other parts of the garden. Destroyed human figures trying to struggle out of the sea of weed creepers and leaves. She hadn’t noticed them the last time but then there was not realy much to notice.

She entered the hall in the depleated light the great hall had lost non of its cavernous maw of a cave however since the small orifaces in the far corners let in some light the paintings were tad more discernable. The barrister was there flanked on the right  by some kind of a big masted boat in the sea she had never seen a boat with that huge a mast in her life .She starred at it there was dust but the colours seem to be shining through them. There were other pictures a lady foreign in some kind of blue dress with a sad smile she stared at it too she didn’t like anything in particular it was not like the painting of the CM crude childish lines smeared on canvas. The gaze transfixed her the eyes seemed too real. The others were equally breathtaking in there own right .There were various statues cupids holding lamp stand porceilin figures etc.Slowly melting into the surrounding kingdom of dust there bright rediant colours conqured by gray.She took one up and inspit e of herself wiped off the dirt.there was a huge grand piano on the other side of the room .the chandlier of cobwebs was infact a crystal affair.She lingered on the relics of old for a bit longer until.She hesitantly touched a young shepherd girl and a lamb her nails scratched off some of the dirt which had cemented on with age. The flakes yielded to her nails revealing the beauty underneath not white but a dull pink which gleamed  .She never had time for bricbracs but the things in the mansion brought it on.Years earlier the only happy memory of her slum life was being taken to the museum on community picnics after the local club or whoever collected money from every door.The will be packed the entire slum into a ramshackle cargo truck and ferried to the zoo ,the meuseum,the planatorium etc.She was once at the museum .Some museum with the mummy with gold work she had wanted to touch it there was a line, a minding adult she could not ,she had hated meuseums from then on.

 She didn’t need to be told that Nimai was gone and she was alone with the other once grand relic upstairs.

She climbed up the staircase there were other paintings sculpturs it felt young again left in an enormous museum with no impregnable barriers’. She lingered on a few .Upstairs was a grand courtyard flanked by rooms the roof had cracks and plaster was peeling .The iron beams of Victorian times were rusted orange and seemed wont last another near century.The rooms were two bedroom a huge library and a huge kitchen .The middle courtyard had a giagantic dinning table .

She found the lawyer in one of the bedrooms. She had expected him to be asleep he had a stroke only a little more than twelve hours ago. The windows were huge French affairs with double shutters it was open the sun now stood in it .The relic strapped to a IV bottle formed a thin silhouette.

“Madame Counselor you took your time enjoyed what you saw”

He hadn’t turned and she never saw his sunlight face he just set there like another exhibit in the gone to rot museum or tomb.It was hard to tell like a ventriloquist act where the baritone issued from could be anywhere from a room big enough to hold twenty people in slum comfort.

“ no I”

“liar I saw you coming in from the gate you wouldent take more than a hour to climb steps madame”he pointed to a large oval clock on one of the bookshelves.

Had it been that long could the wrecks of time held her in a trance for so long .She nearly twitched to see the watch but she didn’t .Something about being in the presence of the once lawyer she never knew what kind of cases he had to deal in .Were they civil cases disputes of the marital nature or property .She could never put Dwarakanth Mukherjee arguing over affairs of alimony. No she had dismissed it something about him his voice the way he brought on discomfort in people by his very presence it had to be criminal and he had to be the one prosecuting.Finaly she didn’t look at her watch even though she was not sure whether she had actually spent over an hour or else That will be admittance the lawyer was alive because of her and she wont be bullied.

“Oh lost track of time but nothing much to see just came to see your condition”

“you got everything there you know I lost track of time too its ending for me no one is coming and I was arrogant enough not to agree to your proposition yesterday.Not my son yeah you called him that’s natural first reaction but he is not coming takes after me that disappointment.

Nothing much to see yeah just the sun setting literally oh the irony of it had you known the days I had seen when I had believed arrogance perhaps that nothing ends at least not for me.

Lastly my condition mademoiselle conditions worse for the wear I guess”

She sat down on a chair behind him.

“couldent offer you tea or anything”

“That’s ok !”

“I didn’t finish got something better I have the house”

She didn’t believe it she had won. She didn’t react immediately –a few intervals passed the sun dropped a little pushing the shadows out of the corners.

“What are you talking about nows not…”

He cut her off

“But Madame Counselor it is I am the departed I know it know just the last coffin nail or the log to the pyre a true burning ghat dead to be exact I won’t die with a debt you saved me last night. Take the house”

“is this necessary ……….”

“Oh but it is its not to bad enough with lies didn’t you want this your palace Mrs Roy not to be shared with none other than Mr Roy your own heaven”

“Ah! Mr Roy passed away”

“Ah even better my child all for yourself like me were you the daughter I lost in the mela”

She smilled

“Interested ma chere”

“Am! I have two houses its for you…….”

“Ah that idea should you bring that up again have a third filled to the brim with books and things you wont they will hate you for that but nothing like the envious glare to feel alive eh”

“Are you “

“no no no not agreeing to that two pence deal two flats dear my shoes used to be cost more you saved my life something my son couldn’t do or I wouldn’t allow .A embarrassment I spend crores to send him to  the best law school drops out then joins hairdressing or something can you imagine and now owns some shit called a spa.Apparently he has done handsomely cleaning women privates if you know what I mean.A Brahmin washing feet.This is perfect you are perfect self made I tried people I know I was the best in my time .Have the house rebuild it make it your own.Even you want it”

For once she wanted to ran again like the other evening.She clearly remembered it was like the times that she will run away with the easiest bathroom albi in now prehistoric times that was the easiest.She even felt her urinary bladder valves bulge a bit with pressure.Somhow however it felt odd to say that not in front of the back of the lawyer.

“So,…. Aiy or nay”

She was suddenly knocked out of her thoughts the lawyer had turned towards her while still seated on the bed and by now the sun had dropped beneath the horizon the shadows from the corners had grown and inexplicably swallowed him. Only a slight outline remained in the twilight. She couldn’t make out his face just the voice with the echo loud clear and confident.

“You mean”

“Ah pardon yes or no”

She couldn’t say anything part of her was jumping to say yes maybe the unloved childhood of constant cravings the other part of her the businesswoman wanted to say yes then wait and tear things down she couldn’t say anything because the lawyer could easily catch lies.

“Yes or no “the room echoed again “I cannot give you the time ma chere you see we don’t have time I may not make it through the night. If it’s a no then all this will only rot in the hands of government parasites I willed it to the state to be termed into a museum ha! Mukherjee house has enough to go by .I could waste time telling it all but then again like I said there is simply no time .It’s not London and I well as you don’t harbor any illusions. We know there won’t be any Museum and the treasures will be stolen and sold as trash”

“Mr Mukherjee I can’t say right away its……uhm a big responsibility……………………………………… this kind of house I have never lived you know that also …………………………………”

“Ah Madame no daughter it’s ok if I call you daughter you are of that age you know .Are you don’t manage anything you have people to manage. Managing the house immagin.You are in a shall we say high society you can’t be seen managing anything other than your business.”

“Mr Mukherjee please its dark  I will light something”

“Its ok I can hear you ……….”

She sat silent she had never been so pushed into a corner all her life. She felt sick remembering this also but it was pointless to say no.

Bolpur Now

Her head was swimming she went into the bathroom and puked .She didn’t rush that again will be blunders in front of the entourage .She simply got up walked normaly to the bathroom opened the latch then the door went in bolted it tight and then opened the gates to the flood of bile which was boiling inside her.As her stomach emptied its contents in to the open abyss of white porceilin she felt a pulse like a heart beat ascend up the pan expand and beam up wards.She nearly imagined to see solid  bell curves or waves which expand outward. She didn’t see anything but she felt it a wave after a pebble hits clam water.

 She collapsed beside the toilet pan the entire house was attuned to vibrations. They were everywhere now she needed medical attention. It seemed that she had time travelled to the claustrophobia of her slum childhood where the walls vibrated because it was separated by a paperboard from a grinding mill. Day in and out by the side of a flywheel grinding floor everything is giving of vibrations of high and lows and the constant never ending hum .The pulse she had felt while vomiting was the interval a hiccup and now it was constant again. She had put years away and other fortified barriers from that but all the opulence and Bolpur wouldn’t keep the flywheel buddy away. She stayed so no she wouldn’t be taken down she wouldn’t sleep until she found her answer.

Kolkata 16hrs earlier

“ok have it your way then” she huffed a last ounce of energy after this lengthy force feeding what the hell the Lawyer would crock.

“I will be changing my will care to bring the light please!”

“No need I will bring Mukul tomorrow “

“Ah but if I shall I say be sentenced tonight “she imagined a grin.

“I don’t see in the dark”

The lawyer began to laugh as like before the room echoed the high bass as if ensuing from more than a corpse with a saline drip.

She didn’t wait for an answer there was a Bakelite on ceramic switch by the door she had seen by the door she flicked it, nothing happened.

“Ah the bulb has gone out before me .Daughter why don’t you get Nimai from below and light a candle or something”

She always had a flashlight in her bag .She lit it the lawyer still had returned to his position he was still contemplating the scene from the window a red moon had started its decent from the horizon.

She shuffled her sari shone her light on the surroundings went into the large dining hall with the huge table she could hear the scamper of tiny feet.Roodents most likely. A woman with a torch in a decaying debri of a house in the night with only a faslight.Then the flashlight was more fancy then useful it merely illuminated the edges and the shapes from the dust. It didn’t help much to judge a path without knocking on furniture camouflaged in cobwebs and dust. She felt a ting in her spine with the idea of rodents. Were they were so common to be worth a mention  once.Chockroches scampering over the back tiny appendages scurrying over exposed flesh, rats nibbling at your feet. She smiled at herself and slowly climbed down the steps holding the banister the creaking planks protesting her every step with creaks didn’t inspire much confidence.

The hall way was lit the cobweb chandelier struggling with the forces of darkness and losing .She didn’t bother to switch of the torch there was not much point.

She called out for Nimai twice her voice echoed in the hall and came back. She smiled it was like she was the lawyer then she felt sorry no flat was big enough to cause an echo. The opulence enough to house a slum meant to house a family. The idea didn’t disgust her for all her hate for the rich. Well she could use some space.

The other voice in her telling her to tag alone was shrieking are you dilliusional you fell for the lawyers trick. What the hell are you going to do with the debri.She wasn’t sure of an answer the lawyer was definitely having his way and she had agreed. Now what she will have the house even now she felt she couldn’t wait till morning suppose he croaked during the night. She felt a little irritation creep up for now she didn’t knew what to do.

She had by now traversed to the portrait of the lady it was funny that in the illuminated circle of the flash light the eyes were more alive than ever perfectly set off from the surrounding darkness. She stood transfixed by the blue in the whites she had never seen blue eyes until this portrait and now when she saw it she couldn’t take her eyes off. Was there a movement in the eyes.She quickly realized the oil paint had reflected someone behind her.

 She ducked in time for the hands to grab her from behind but still she felt the human weight of a shoulder crashing into her sending her head long into the depths of dust.She felt her head explode into a  galaxy of stars. This lasted for a second her instincts had already taken over and she anticipated the next obvious move jumping on her and pinning her with weight. Thats the most obvious of mens trick get the girl on to the floor beat her unconscious. It takes little brain and girls are supposed to lay down and cower. Take the beating fed out to be no longer able to resist and then get raped, murdered etc. She had known better the years had their fair share of the bad things they do to you because you were of the wrong sex .She had grown learning how to beat them up,claw ,thrash her way out.She had never been pretty but that was hardly the point her being a girl or women was enough.She jutted her leg out and true enough something landed on her heel gave up a gasp of surprise and bounced off.She could hardly make out the shape of her attacker in the light of the rolling flashlit or the chandlier,but she could hear. She must have hit the chest or below she preferred the below ,one blow is enough to take out the manliness in any man.She heard the whimper the guy had obviously got  one blow.She felt the stars clear and raw adrenaline spurt through her vains .She kicked off her sandles.In a fight they are unnecessary hindrance her sari was also not the best help but in a swift move she had arranged her pallu tucked below her waist. She got hold of some hair in the dark and smacked a hard slap the hair was greasy and the face her palm made contact with a greasy fur of some ulcer infested face. She felt something explode on her plum maybe a lip.Her arms were quite strong and she new it. The thing yelled out and threw a few animals like paws and scratched the hand holding the hair. This reminded her of fighting a near dead feral animal in the dark. She pulled her hand back with her claw firmly holding the hair and threw the thing across the room. She waited for the dust cloud and then the thunderous clap of human appendages colliding with furniture.

“Whore greedy bitch I will kill you” the voice was vaugly familer she heard a scuffle of feat with furniture the thing was going to try get away hit another time.She had had her share of enemies but she never realy expected  an attack like this .Not since the slums had she been nearly manhandled.

 She picked up a brass candlbearar and rushed forward she was going to finish this.She had enough of being pushed into corners. Something flashed silver in the night as a old wrench nearly knocked her head .She didn’t think and just ducked .There was the sound of shattering glass but she had more pressing needs. The movements were causing her to gasp she was near forty and fully weighed with years of adipose. She had to finish this quickly.

She bearly made out the skeletal features trying for the door.She lunged caught it with one hand let her momentum crash the thing on to the floor and was going to bring down the brass candelbearer when she realized she couldn’t someone was holding it and someone strong.

“Greedy motherfucking bitch you want this all you want Babu to fucking die and then you can demolish this and get more.fucking whore wants more”it was nimai bleeding from quite a few places .She struggled for a time to bring down the brass candelbearer couldent.She felt her face catch a slag of spit,cough and tobacco.The sensation caused her to squirm and try to bring down the candelbeare even  harder,but obviously she couldent.

“Nimai that’s enough” the darkness boomed behind her. She felt a kick land on Nimais stomach close to her as she near rode on his prostate figure.Nimai gave of a wounded yelp more canine than human.

“Ah ma  chere such animals “the lawyer had evanesced from dark partially, it was just his usual Shallotte only. She felt the acrid tobacco smell of cheap cigarettes on a claw of a hand that wiped her mouth. She quelled   her revolting stomach which threatened a vomit of her last morsel. The lawyer was smoking cigerrretes now but must be in private he wouldn’t be caught dead without anything short of a cigar in public.

She used her pallu to clean the muck leaned on the given hand and got up it was ridiculous not too.She now felt her breath coming in gasps, the pain in her joints and legs and the sticky memory of the spit and tobacco facial she just had.

“I apologize for him, he is of shall we say a  not a very  decent upbringing”

“I am not of a decent upbring Mr Mukherjee”

“Seat down please daughter I will attend to this idiot he is probably bleeding, Good well deserved thrashing I say but  we still might have to keep the incorrigible scoundrel alive I tell you “The lawyer sounded the same deep bass in a theater he must have really shook witnesses on the stand, and his exclamations were in English.”There is a bathroom in the right if you will want some water. Not hart anywhere are you?”

She could only mumble”No”.She picked up the still oscillating torch from the floor which uptil now had been throwing the shadows to the left and right. She limped to the bathroom which somehow magically propped up where it was expected like she knew where.

She hurried barely made out a huge white pan with a black lid. Fumble open the lid and then throw up. She took her turn to fix herself there was a huge mirror and a old bathtub with still visible water lines but not used in a long time. When she was done after a good half an hour scratching away the filth from her cheeks with so much aggression that it blistered red .

By the time she was back in the Hall room she had made up her mind. The lawyers just   stayed ensconced in the opaque darkness with only his  features not his face.

“Ah ma chere looking fresh no hardness I believe for this little bustard .Too  much dope would be my guess. “

“No”she mumbled

“Then we complete the paper work”

“No”

“Pardon”

“I am not taking the house from you I am buying it in exchange for two flats I will keep your goods which don’t fit the flats……”

“Again do you intend to go on with that nonsense daughter ………………….”

“No you don’t understand I don’t want this house or anything …”
“Realy what is this all because of Nimai I thought you could forget the wench”

“Its not about him”

“Needless but you understand that we had an understanding I made a proposition you agreed. Its contract and I say verbal doesn’t make it un-enforceable. You cannot renege now. As they say married for better or for worse .We had no clauses for premature annulment “the words were iccy but the bass had not trembled.

“I disagree”

“No you can’t or I wouldn’t have that you as of now you are a part of the Mukherjee Mansion .You wouldn’t let it be torn apart for shoe boxes”

“I am leaving Mr Mukherjee,take care of yourself”

“You are not leaving dear ……………..snails carry their home around.So do we if the homes gone so is the snail.You are gonna carry it.Worse ……………..hehe you don’t understand me and the bastard Nimai will be coming for you to keep this house whole”

She rushed out and like the last time felt like a huge relief crossing over the half lions. Unlike last time however she collapsed and started to cry.

Bolpur Now

She yelled as soon as she was done vomiting the entourage flodded the large bathroom.A collage of humanity multiple heads hand s and limbs like a confused monster lifted her up and carried her to her bedroom .Someone yelled shut the TV .The blaring melodrama on high definition speakers sized immediately but as soon as it died down someone remarked .

“Whats the vibrating noise?”

“It feels like the boring for the underground metro .They tunnel borer ran just below my house it shaked and vibrated. One of the walls developed cracks” added one.

“What Metro we are in Bolpur”

“Earthquake “the words ran through the room like electricity. The Pandemonium started her pall bearers started to heave her through the door.

“Stop! this is no earth quake, just get a doctor”

The multibody heaved her gently to her bed.

She could feel the vibrations were being transmitted of everything solid inside the house. She had said it was not an earthquake but was she sure. Her entourage has thinned. The rich are alone, Like Mr. Mukherjes the thought brought out a smile to her lips. If it was then she would know the error before it was too late.

His near last words “Snails carrying their home” through her pain she grabbed at the memories snatching them back .She felt the ultimate puzzle a challenge a riddle.”Father where did you carry away your treasure filled palace”

The others were startled

“Didi what did you say should I get you a glass of water, we will get the doctor soon”

She moved her head in negation. That was not the last words but not really the last words came to her in her dream.

Kolkata 13hrs earlier

Inspite of everything she quietly entered her house without troubling the front door .Went up to her room took a long bath came out ordered the best she could have on soft noitice.When it was over she could hardly trace her feelings regret not quite relief not much. She just set there in front of the TV which spewed the melodrama. Only thing logical then was to sleep over forget the dam thing surely there were other larger plots. There had to be.

That night she couldn’t sleep easy. However sleep she did she was to tired. She was back in Mukherjee house and in her dream it felt she had never left. The lawyer and the house were morphing into one. As with all dreams, real when you are in it fragments and fractions when you are out. The dark shadows the depths that had encapsulated multiple lifetimes of memories in Mukherjee house has morphed with its last Mukherjee.The house and everything were morphing into one. The lawyer whose features remained unclear till the last was opening up like some monster from a deep abyss .The black darkness that permeated everything now undulated and convoluted with new found energy.Its jaws opened up like an enormous mow and he started swallowing the things in the house.It engulfed the pictures ,figurines, bric bracs the furniture everything. It was like a spreading ink blot of darkness suddenly given life and like a gaint worm erasing things out.  

“Ma chere I will save everything and all for you” the perfect theater grade bass as darkness engulfed everything.

She had weaken feverish, dizzy without any energy left and the first of the painful vibrations .She was woken by one of the servants, Mukul was downstairs. She never had any visitors to her bedroom, no one walked past the main living area. She couldn’t get herself up so she called him up.

“Didi its gone”Mukul came in sweating and out of breath. He never noticed that though not realy attractive the counselor was in her bed gown.

“What is gone?”Mukuls shouting caused echoes inside her cranium.

“Dawarkanth’s house”

“What do you mean….how is a house gone?”

“See for yourself like I said it’s gone.”

She managed the sari and took the car .However it was true beyond the broken walls the grounds the house everything was gone. There was a huge hole in the ground .it formed no shape just covered the entire area of the property till the boundary wall. Then it dropped in a deep unending abyss it seemed like a huge pipe had materialized below the property and sucked it in. There was a crowd of people murmurs, television crews .Rishipur had suddenly become the center of all attention with a new miracle of a vanished property and an audience to see it .

The walls of the never ending well was smooth as if the digging had been done by some sort of high cut laser .There were people everywhere taking pictures, posing  just at the ledge of the nearly an acer square hole. There were even sadhus and saints of every conceivable faith. Arguing which of their books predicted this .There were geologists Some of them murmered that nothing known to sience could explain this and how deep the well actually was. The place was also getting run over by local political guys.Her phone had began to ring incessantly. Apparently the CM was due and wanted to talk with her .Apperently she was not the only one who wanted to talk with her .Mukul quietly handed her a list.She bearly managed the CM and a few others.”No I knew nothing” was her stock reply and she had repeated it so many times that by know it seemed fixed on her lips. Inspite of beginning to believe her lies in normal in the course of her carrier she was surprised that she was telling the truth. She finally was able to say that this was not her area and everyone the scientists,geologists,politicians was free to do anything they deemed fit to do within the well what used to be Mukherjee Mansion.

She quickly ducked got in her car before being mobbed told the driver instinctively.

“Drive to Bolpur till you reach it no stopping for anything”

She got a call from Sam Mukherjee the bastard threatened her with courts. Apparently the story was on American TV.She shut off her mobile. She reached Bolpur.

Bolpur Now

She had not found her mistake. It was like something deep primal and more than a heap of rubble she had disturbed, god how the hell would she ever had known. Whatever it was it clang on to her and will not let go. The lawyer was there with his palace and waiting.

The house was beginning to shake .She saw the blob painting of the chief minister tumble down in an enormous crash .The splintering glass shimmered as it flew across the roam catching legs and arms. The load crashed and then the shaking and tumbling of every conceivable fixture and furniture started. Everything was shaking and shattering. The light bulbs, glass vases 3d pictures all started to implode. There was loud yelling every one of those left began to rush to the doors. She couldn’t get up the vibrations had done her in. Perception of reality was slowly eroding and everything felt hazy in front of her eyes. A few tugged at her enormous appendages failed screamed “someone help” then run out. She had now started to realize that this earthquake or whatever was somehow real and she would be left alone in a crumbling house. The notion left alone in a crumbling house reminded her of the Lawyer again in midst of all the chaos. She was soon left alone and self preservation brought her to the unthinkable she started to scream help. She saw the walls develop cracks and begin to let the light she had barred in. She-- felt the oven blast of midsummer Bolpur along with a sea of dust.

She screamed but there was no one .The floor in front of her parted the few that had made to the door beyond the newly created chasm shouted “Didi come over quick jump”. She exhausted the last of her will but she couldn’t jump over .She reached instead the jagged end of the other end of the chasm if she could reach it somehow.The chasm that had gulped down Mukherjee house has suddenly materilised two hundered kilometers away in her house. She was sucked into it.All this time the chasm grew she expected to see her ground floor beneath but that was not what she saw. A white ocean of dust raise up from the Abyss below. She was seeing things there was dark intimitant things in the brown dust .The entire structure was going elastic and any footstep seemed to confirm so. She was on her belly by now it was getting difficult to breath. She wriggled stretching her hand across the widening chasm. There was no in the other side of the ledge. The ledge she was on has started to crumble. If she could only  reach the other end.

She strtched to her limit she could no longer see the other ledge in the sea of dust.Then suddenly something cought her hand and started to pull her over for a moment she felt her legs in air but then she was hanging on the other ledge. The hand was cold.

“Its all right we got you”It was Nimai.She knew the voice and it was allright,

The House was collapsing internally. She could now see the black darkness she saw last in Mukherjee house and in her dream rising up like magma engulf the entire sea of dust.It spread like liquid squeezing into every corner.It soon blocked out the crack in the far wall which was letting in the sun and Bolpur heat.Soon it was everywhere.

She realized her answer   “It was no mistake we all wanted everything”.