Love Story

She was a young, vibrant, daring and vivacious college student, very active in politics and more active in building a life for her own self, taking charge of it totally.

He was a quiet, serious, struggling man with dreams in his eyes and the entire life packed in one small suitcase, moving around the suburbs of the City of Joy.

They belonged to families which had faced the blow of the Indo-Pakistan partition.  Their families had left everything in Bangladesh and arrived in India with their lives and little hopes tied in small bundles.  Both the families had crossed The Padma river with the hope to return to their motherland, only to soon realize that they had left behind the land, water and sky forever. 

His family arrived at a sleepy town in Tripura and her family settled in Kolkata and life went on.

Destiny had it this way, he went for a course at the IIT Kharagpur and befriended her brother and then he visited her house often. 

And that’s how Ma and Baba met.

Baba helped Ma with her college notes and Ma helped Baba in building secret dreams of a life with this chirpy young girl.  But the quiet and silent Baba was never able to voice his liking for her.

Ma was very sure of what she wants in life and empowered enough to get it.  So she proposed.  He reciprocated and they got married.  They were each other’s first love and now life partner.

Baba worked at Ranchi while Ma continued her Government school job in Kolkata.  Parenthood followed the marriage and soon they were proud Ma and Baba to a beautiful daughter. 

But life is not all roses throughout.  The dagger of the fate cut through their loving heart and they lost their daughter after six months of blissful parenthood.

Shattered and broken, they found solace in each other’s love.  Love had a new definition now.  They had seen one shade of love but now the love unfolded new colours.  Love is support, love is Being There.

They became parents again.  In four years time, they had a daughter and a son.  Ma had already left her job to join her husband after the birth of their daughter.

Not that Love is always sweet words and laughter.  They had their own share of disappointments, arguments and complaints but the various shades of love kept unfolding over them and life went on.  Baba was very busy in building the Cultural and Educational centre of his dreams and Ma, all the while, kept the household grounded and looked after all the needs of the family.  The family extended beyond these four people.  There were relatives to be looked after, there were people to be fended for and the two of them, as one, untiringly delivered all the duties.

They had almost forgotten their own needs; they did not even seem to be a ‘couple in love’ to the children.  For the children, they were two individuals with distinct roles and yet in unison as one: as parents.  They were the two pillars anchoring them to earth and bestowing the meaning to home, to childhood and to their dreams.

Years later, Ma and Baba were once again alone, when the two little birds learnt to fly. 

Love came around in full circle when they reached the twilight years.  It had a new definition, new implication and new shade. 

Soon after retiring from the services, Baba’s health weakened.  The children never imagined a sick Baba.  Ma had those surgeries, Ma had those ulcers and Baba always was there to take control of the situation.  Things turned to be entirely different when Baba, suffering from diabetes, leading to  partial loss of eyesight and kidney problems became dependent on his wife.   So much had changed in their life; only one thing had not changed.  The conviction that Love means support, love means Being There.

During his last few days on earth, Baba would often request Ma to put her hands on him and quietly lie down by his side.  He wanted to be re-assured of her presence, of her ‘Being there’.

That day, before leaving for his evening walk, he looked back at Ma and feebly uttered, “Aami Jaachchi,’ which is a very uncommon phrase in Bangla.  We do not usually say , “I am going”, we rather say, ‘I will go and come.”  Ma, very busy with her Laxmi Puja preparation hardly noticed that it was long past his arrival time.  Only a few minutes later the neighbours informed her that they had found him lying in a pool of blood at the bottom of the staircase.

A hemorrhage and coma followed.  Ma spent the entire night like a guard, near him, refusing to move for even a moment.  She nursed him and pleaded with him to come back..to consciousness.

When the doctors revealed that there was absolutely no hope of coming back and it was only a matter of time, Ma took control again.  She re-lived the marriage vow of wishing the best and only the best for him, she prayed to the Almighty for the best judgment for her husband, she surrendered to the Almighty’s will and thus made their love immortal.

She let him go, he left..they are each other’s first love, they grew old together, they lived their love and wrote their story among many others, on the leaf of time.

Love stories may have an end but it is only the story which ends, love lives forever…………