Re-writing Saga....1

This has been long pending! When I read 'Devdas' by Saratchandra Chattopadhyay, I was puzzled by the ending. Can a man be driven to such despair? It was not the character of Dev that bemused me, really. it was Chandramukhi's.For a courtesan, she seemed to be rather passive, especially when compared to Paro, the 'the good girl', so to speak. Where was the sense of agency? Unsatisfied as I was with the ending, it swirled and swirled around till I got down to re-writing it with a different one. I put the story here, for all to judge.

I have changed several things, the setting too, in a way. The protagonist and narrator is Chandramukhi, as opposed to an omniscient one in the original.The rest is what you will have to read for yourselves!

I will posting a chunk every now and then...it's practically a novella! Comments, suggestions, criticism are all welcome.

P.S. This was written way back in 2002. M sure my style has changed since..

(It doesn't have a title)

Like the ancient fire

Burning inside the sun

His eyes have the brightness

That capture with their might.

I had written this and many other verses in my diary. But this particular verse proved to be a prophecy when I witnessed the same fire. The bright eyes came before me as the eyes of Sabya Banerjee.

It was a fine, uneventful morning I woke up at six, as I usually did. I had my bath and a brief prayer followed. I checked up on my mother. She had been bed-ridden for the past two months. The right side of her body had been paralyzed. But she refused to be treated as a baby. Though her strong voice had become a muffle of unrecognizable sounds and her worn hardworking hands and legs became almost immobile, she was adamant about living life her way. She was already up, staring out of the window that opened into the busy lane of fruit and vegetable vendors. She twisted her mouth into what only I understood as a smile.

‘Good morning Ma, how are you feeling?’ I sat by the bedside. She nodded her head vigorously. I smiled her and patted her. She was one stubborn lady. She would not let helplessness weigh her down. I went into the kitchen and started to prepare breakfast when I heard the doorbell. I wiped my hands and started towards the door.

‘Who’s there?’ I called out. There was no reply. ‘Who is there?’ I called out louder.

‘Sabya Banerjee’ I heard the voice on the other side call.

It took a minute for the name to register. Of course, I remembered. He was the new tenant who was to rent the second floor. I hurried to open the door. I think it was that one second which brought novelty in my life.

There he stood, with his mesmerizing brown eyes. ‘I’m Sabya Banerjee.’

Till next time....