MANI AND RAMAN

 A brief saga of who's who and what's that? A funny little cute story set in pre-independence Bengal

1. It was raining since morning. Raman entered, completely drenched.

   "When are they going to repair those buses, god only knows!"

   Irritated, hung the dripping umbrella on the stand he threw himself on the chair lying next to the sofa, still cursing the rain

   "That goddamn rain! Mani, the office was closed. I couldn't get the agreement. I couldn't finish anything off of the list today, not...a...single...thing...."

   Mani handed him a glass of water and resumed watching her show while peeling the potatoes.

   Every evening Raman would find her on the sofa watching her favorite T.V. show. Their block was one of the few to have cable television. Once she cut her finger while watching her favorite heroine leave her in-law's house or was she thrown out? He couldn't remember. Raman saw her wiping tears by her pallu, he wondered, were those for the heroine or the bleeding finger? but he dare not ask her, cause she would then explain the entire story and cry, again! And then somehow he would end up sleeping on the sofa. He was not ready to spend another night on the sofa. He was just too tired.

   "What now?"

   "Nothing, just...I am going to get a car now" said he coming out of the zone. He emptied the glass in a gulp and went in to get another glass of water.

   "You will regret it" she sang while peeling potatoes. "Ah! No, don't! Don't touch matka with your filthy hands, let me do it for you, here. And please go and have a bath first otherwise no dinner for you. You get it?" said she, handing him the glass of water with her clean hands.

   "Yes, master." He said bowing to her. She giggled, ruffling his hair she ran back to her potatoes. Raman just stood there... watching her, his face grew into a smile.

   The clouds rumbled.

   "chalo, let's have dinner!"

   The aroma of sizzling potatoes filled the house.

   Mani loved to cook. She would prepare a new dish every time he came down to visit the family. He would be there every weekend. But last year she gave him the ultimatum to either take her with him or quit. Raman was left with no choice. He too was tired of traveling back and forth each weekend. He thought, it would be nice of have Mani there. He would then wait for the clock to strike 5 and collect all his belongings and rush home to his wife like everyone in his office. She would wait for him eagerly and then they would have dinner together and he would praise Mani's cooking skills everyday, without getting tired.

   

   
   So, after searching for about a month they found this spacious apartment. Raman did not like it at first but Mani was adamant. She loved the view from the balcony and also she was tired of looking for a house every single day. It was so monotonic. They would get up each day and spend all afternoon looking for the 'perfect house'.

   Mani did not like any of them. Some did not have enough room for sunlight to come in, some were just too small to live, while some were just too big, some smelled weird, whereas some had cranky neighbors. Of course, it was not how she imagined it would be but as long as they were together, she would have lived even in a trailer. This little block of theirs had 24×7 running water, no-load shading and the most important thing, his office was just minutes away. Mani knew these reasons were enough to convince Raman to buy it.

   It was amazing how Mani had magically transformed the gloomy house into a cheerful and lively and cozy place. She just collected all the sadness and threw it out with her magical hands. They re-painted the house together. She decorated it with her excellent painting skills. They hung some paintings and photo frames they brought along with them. She threw some colorful cushions on the sofa, by the window sill and on the bed. She brought some plants and placed them carefully in every single corner of the house where she saw sunlight peep in. She even brought those little lamps that he liked.

   The best part of the house for Raman was; the balcony. he felt at peace here. Soft wind blowing across his hair, making them dance on its tunes. The smell of freshly watered plants. He would sit there for hours watching the sunset, the sky, the clouds, racing amongst each other, the birds, he listened to their songs. The perfect place was right there! With Mani.

   Mani, tea and the balcony, that's all he needed after a long and tiring day at the office.

   Raman headed towards bathroom. He was so tired today. This was the second thing he enjoyed after a long day at work. It was HIS routine. He would come back home and have a hot and healthy shower and then have some tea with Mani in the balcony. But today he was extremely late. What to do? He blamed the rain!

   The Springs of water running down his body, The relaxing shower compelled him to sing,

   "Rimjhim gire sawan, sulag sulag jaye man......." Today was just like every day. Mani smiled when she heard him sing. She was used to it by now. It reminded her of how they first met.

   It was spring. Everything was at its best. Her beloved mango tree in her yard has just started to bear fruits. She stared at them, her eyes full of wonder, "how tiny are they!"How do they...

   "Mani, O Mani, stop staring at the mangoes, they won't ripe by your mere staring at them okay! So, come here and help me out, will you?"

   It was Rukmini's shrill voice, oh god!

   That was enough to ruin her moment. Rukmini was their neighbor. She and Rishikesh Dada got married last year. Every Saturday afternoon Dada used to invite all his friends over for lunch. They would play some cards, recite some poetry, mostly ghazals, discuss politics, etc. Mani would go there just for those ghazals. She loved them.

   Especially Begum Akhtar's "Diwana banana hai to" she appreciated Begum's desperate heart yearning for love, trying to forget the pain love caused her. It appealed to her, attracted her like nothing else.

   That day too, the radio played the same ghazal and she was automatically drawn downstairs. That's when she saw the sweet and sour green mangoes hanging from the tree. The spring season, The mango tree, the sweet and sour aroma of unripened mangoes and Begum Akhtar, perfect!

   "Maniiiiiiii, come fast my dear! Your Dada and his karmahin friends are waiting for their starters."

   "If he keeps on inviting people we are going to be out of food and that lucky day isn't fai\r." she heard Mini snap as she entered the smoke-filled kitchen. Mani did not dare ask about it, she knew it and now she had to fix it. Rukmini was an experimental cook. Rishikesh Dada knew this and hence he would ask her to prepare some dish and then he would invite Mani over as a precaution. He was afraid that Mini's cooking would someday take the entire house down along with him.

   Mani was busy arranging the food on to the dinner table. She heard someone sing.

   "Rimjhim gire saavan...sulag sulag jaye man....."

   She followed the voice.

   "Bheege aaj is mausam me....lagi kaisi ye agan...."

   The song kept getting clearer and louder.

   "Mehfil me kaise..." It was coming from the bathroom!

   She moved closer to listen,

   "Kehde kisi se..."

   Pressing her ear slightly on the door.

   "Dil bandh raha hai kisi ajanab......."

   Suddenly, the door swung open! The humming stopped, and there he was, through the steam, wearing only dhoti, wiping his hair, and looking shocked. The bathroom door was still open and the steam which was trapped inside the bathroom was eager to get out. He stood there at the threshold, letting sunlight and steam outline his figure. She could see water droplets glistening on his body. And now, the bathroom door looked like an entrance to whole new world with him standing on the edge of it!

   "Why would one sing in a bathroom?" she said, in a stern voice. Recollecting herself.

   "I...I am sss...orry, wh.... who are you?" he sounded as if he would faint right then and there.

   "I am Princess Pratibha Kumari, the daughter of The Kulbhushan Saraf." She roared with one hand on her waist and the other in the air. She could see his eyes bulging out. "Yes, yes the gold merchant. Why are you still standing here? Go and check whether driver is here with my car or no!" gesturing him to go, she turned away and bolting back she almost yelled at him,

   "You're still here...Go! now!!"

   He ran like a timid cat. Unaware that he was only wearing a dhoti and it was cold outside. She chuckled and went off to arrange the rest of the dinner table. And she thought she would never see her again! Why god! How wrong was she! How naive!

   The next time she saw him while going to the Friday market, waiting outside Saraf uncle's house. The same evening Rukmini came over for the usual chitchat and eventually 'dhotiwala' came up.

   "Ooooh! That silly boy Naren? He is from Calcutta. Comes here every other day. I mean, when you have your own place to stay why don't you stay there itself. It is not polite Mani; I tell you never trust a man who writes poetry. First, he will impress you with his poetry, and then he will marry you, and then he will treat you as though you don't exist only. Then he will say (mimicking Rishikesh Dada) 'I married you what else do you want?' as if he doesn't know what I want...."

   Rukmini was going on and on but Mani wasn't listening, her voice faded into the background. She was now dreaming about Naren, the dhotiwala from Calcutta who writes poetry.

   A month later, father invited his old friend Mr. Shah and his son for lunch, someone named Raman, who was also friends with Dada.

   "Manu, beta he has a degree in Engineering, from Harvard University. But he wants to work here in India. What a good boy! His father says he wants to settle down here and built his own company." he told her while sipping the morning tea in the front yard. Taking another sip he continued "You know beta, Mr. Shah and I, we used to play together right in this garden! It was he who introduced me to M. N. Roy! Ah! Golden times. Are, beta..." and she was gone.

   She knew what all the 'lunch' fiasco was about.

   "What kind of name is Raman, a south Indian? I don't want to eat idli dosa all my life, Mini."

   "Are, Raman is a decent boy and he is the one who is not into all that junk your dada and friends are interested in, trust me he is the man for you."

   "You just don't understand, do you?"

   "Umm let's see you are not interested in marrying the boy your father chooses for you! What must be the reason? Hmm, what..must..be..the..reason? Do you recollect anything, priya may? No?"

   "It's nothing. I just don't want to marry. I am not ready. That's it!"

   "Oh! What nonsense. Everybody has to marry and you are so ready for it. Just look at your face, it's all grown pink! Who is he? What is his name? Where did you two meet? Is he good-looking? Is he rich? How old is he? Does Rishi know? Is he one of Rishi's friends? Is he? Is he? Tell me, tell me everything, come on, come on tell me, Manuuuu, tell me, please!"

   "Okay, Okay! But promise me you won't tell anyone"

   "Promise"

   "Okay, it's Naren"

   "Who Naren?" Mani widens her eyes at Rukmini and then "Naren, Nareeeenn....oh! OH! our Naren.............Oh! No, no, not our Naren. No, no, no, Manu. What did I tell you about these type of men, didn't you listen? No, you didn't! Why would you listen to me? Even your dada doesn't listen to me, because he thinks he is always right. Well no, he isn't. Why doesn't he tell me anything? You see I have all solution to all the problems, but no! He doesn't listen to me, then why would you, amake balo?"

   "Mini, Mini! Listen I am going to tell him tomorrow, okay"

   Before Rukmini could say anything she was summoned by Dada.

   The next day, as she was preparing for lunch she heard loud voices. She ran towards them only to find Saraf uncle dragging Naren towards Dada

   "You, idiot! How dare you follow my daughter like that. How dare you! Do you know who I am? And how dare you come alone and ask for her hand like that, huh, tell me, you idiot!..." Uncle kept on yelling at him, he listened with his head hung low. Dada and Rukmini came out running. Hearing a lot of noises father and Mr. Shah also went in. She was the last to arrive. It was Sunday and as usual, Dada had his friends over.

   "What is your name? Tell me. Who is your father? Tell me." yelling this Saraf uncle started hitting him with his umbrella, a big black umbrella. Now Mr. Shah stepped in "How dare you hit my son like that?"

   Her brain wasn't able to register what happened in the next few minutes. She just realized it when Naren, sorry Raman was made to sit and explain what had happened!

   Raman began telling his side of the story,

   "It was love at first sight. The minute I saw her and just froze. It was magical...."

   "who?"

   Pointing at Mani, he said "Pratibha!"

   "What?" everybody shouted in unison. She stood there looking like a fool. Mini looked like someone betrayed her and Dada? He just sat there and said nothing for the whole two minutes.

   "Mani, why didn't you tell me? When did this happen? Are we not best friends? Why would you do this to me? You told me it was Naren. You lied to me Mani" and she started sobbing very loudly.

   "Mini, Mini, MINI! Shhhh, kanna bondho koro keep quiet now. Saraf uncle is sitting outside what will he think, huh, Shhhh!"

   "Yes, Raman, continue"

   "She was so beautiful. I..I.. mean you are still beautiful, You will be beautiful..."

   "Come to the point."

   "She told me she was Pratibha Kumari daughter of Kulbhushan uncle. So for the last month, I have been trying to talk to him but I just couldn't. I mean he is the Kulbhushan Saraf. But when my father came to me with Mani's proposal I decided to confess the truth to her as well as Saraf uncle. But by then he had already noticed me fooling around his house. So, today he caught me. But when I told him about my intentions he dragged me here, I brought him to Dada's house to calm him down but....."

   "We know what happened, okay" Dada was actually laughing. We expected him to get angry and yell and find some nonsensical solution for Saraf uncle.

   "You! You! Raman! Did you stalk a girl? Really? Though a wrong girl. Good job, And that too for a month. Sir, do tell us what gave you such confidence? How did you become so invisible?"

   Raman sat there with his head hung low.

   Dada then explained the entire scenario to Saraf uncle. "But now who will marry my Pratibha?"

   "I will!" It was Naren, the real one with dhoti.

   Saraf uncle and Naren went out for a walk and Dada and Mini stood there staring at us and everybody suddenly burst out laughing.

   "Hi! I am Raman," he said turning towards me.

   "Namaste, I am Mani"

   "I know!"

   "Would you like some sabzi, Mani, MANI?"

   "Huh?"

   "What were you thinking?"

   "Nothing, let's eat. I am hungry."

   "Rimjhim gire saavan...." he kept humming the song.