Recap: Reminded about his dinner by Lata, Ronny heads off to Pragya Paramita Sen’s house. But he remains in the conversations that follow at Ghosh Mansion, even after Aaduri arrives with Hem. Ronny, meanwhile, cannot quite get Lata out of his mind.
9.05pm, somewhere in Calcutta, inside a taxi
Shaarani Sen: Ronny baba.
Ronny: Good evening, Shaaranidi.
Shaarani Sen: I heard you are going to New Alipore for dinner?
Ronny: Yes, I am en route actually.
Shaarani Sen: Good, then you can explain this to Pragya. It’s a sensitive matter. I have given our conversation in Ranchi a lot of thought. Ronny, even though Abala Bose is a challenging role and I do like the idea of doing a memorable cameo alongside Babluda as Jagadish Bose, I don’t think I can say yes to Shomoy.
Ronny: But why? I don’t mind expanding the scope of the role even more....
Shaarani Sen: That’s not the reason, Ronny. Don’t be silly. This film is Pragya’s debut. From the time she was a little girl, my persona has overshadowed her life, her efforts. In school, on result day, her teachers would fawn over me — even though she’d do so well in her tests — and the other parents would neither come up to chat nor stop staring at us. A few parents were too clever by half. They sent their kids to strike up a friendship with Pragya simply because they wanted to come to our house and get pally with me. Naturally, these friendships would implode after a point. Why do you think she’s always running to Mimi? Mimi was her only constant in childhood. Anything remarkable that she achieved on her own was ascribed to me and my contacts. Anything childish she did — once she forgot her lines on stage when she was seven years old — was dissected with utmost cruelty. Why do you think I sent her to America to study? It was so expensive! But I had no option. I wanted her to find her feet and not be judged all the time. You see?
Ronny: I understand.
Shaarani Sen: So, if I am a part of her debut-film, cameo or whatever, you know what’s going to happen. There is going to be a lot of unnecessary talk. Unfavourable comparisons. In general, it’s not going to be good for Pragya.
Ronny: Pragya is the first one I spoke to about this, Shaaranidi. She’s a big girl.
Shaarani Sen: I know, I know. She’s a good child, forever wanting me, needing me, valourising me, even though I must confess I have not always been an ideal mother. Her father’s death had affected her a lot. And my way of dealing with it was different. I don’t remember him as a perfect individual — but she does. Anyway. I am speaking too much. But you are part of the family now, Ronny. I can trust you.
Ronny: Of course.
Shaarani Sen: Pragya wants to prove all the time that she is not threatened by me. But I am her mother, Ronny, even though I might not always have been there for her when she needed me. I have to do the right thing. This must be Pragya’s film. Not mine, not even slightly. You should speak to somebody else... I can help you find someone suitable...
Ronny: It’s okay, Shaaranidi. Let me figure this out.
Shaarani Sen: You know why I wanted her to work with you? Because you are a serious director. You follow the old-fashioned systems. You are making her work on her diction, getting her to read. I know you will have rigorous workshops with theatre persons too, with historians and art directors. I wish I could have been a part of this. But no.
Ronny: Well then. I don’t think there is anything I can say that’ll change your mind.
Shaarani Sen: Go on, enjoy your dinner. I will be back next week. See you then.
Ronny: See you, Shaaranidi.
Ghosh Mansion, 11.30pm, Lata’s room
Manjulika: Can I come in?
Lata: You already have.
Manjulika: That Hem boy is very nice. Ate luchi mangsho so happily.
Lata: Hmm.
Manjulika: Baba, Munni, your room is so cold. I didn’t realise. It’s because of those damp patches. We’d better get it repaired after the wedding.
Lata: You can share my blanket.
Manjulika: I am sorry, Munni. I know you have a certain dignity and I think...
Lata: It’s not about dignity! You are all acting as though he is “the one that got away”!
Manjulika: What is “the one that got away”?
Lata: Oh, Ma.
Manjulika: I don’t understand these post-Agatha Christie British phrases.
Lata: Then you should read some contemporary books. Bridget Jones, etc.
Manjulika: No, thank you. I barely have enough time to keep up with contemporary Bangla fiction.
Hem’s car, 11.45pm, Park Street
Aaduri: Tiana has sent me the article. I am, in fact, shocked at her alacrity.
Hem: You underestimate the young.
Aaduri: You overestimate the young. I just spotted a howler. Anyway, I’ll look at it later.
Hem: What is it with Ronny and Lata?
Aaduri: Uff. Don’t make me go into it. Those two and their epic, never-ending nonsense. Ever since she’s arrived in town, it feels like we are in Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion. Fine, I’ll tell you. Ronny fell for Lata pretty much at the orientation. 17 August 1997. They became friends the day she was christened Helen of Troy. 24 November 1997. Ronny liked to believe he was her best friend. But that he wasn’t. I was. Anyway. Then came her twenty-first birthday.
Hem: And?
Aaduri: There’s something about turning 21.
Hem: Oh yes. The day I turned 21, I promised that I would stop trying to be a poet. Don’t laugh. At one time, in the college circuit of Uttar Pradesh, girls would record the recitations of Hem Ilahabadi at college functions, cry over the shers at home and write him letters in blood.
Aaduri: Blood?
Hem: Well, maybe red ink.
Aaduri: No wonder you and Lata get along so famously. She too received letters written in red ink.
Hem: Lata turned 21 and...
Aaduri: Sometime after, they became a couple. Third-year was that madly-in-love phase. Punctuated by stormy fights and break-ups that lasted five minutes. But there was something authentic about them. Then Lata went to IIM and Ronny went to ISI. I was away in Delhi myself at the time. Something happened, they broke up, I expected them to get back together, any day. But on the day of campus placement, Lata met Aarjoe.
Hem: The husband?
Aaduri: The ex-husband, yes. It was a whirlwind, their courtship and the wedding in Ghosh Mansion. And after that Lata went to Bombay and then, with Aarjoe, to the US.
Hem: And Ronny?
Aaduri: Ronny dropped out of ISI and went to Bombay. Worked in advertising. Was very successful too. Several serious relationships. But never married. Here we are. Thank you, Hem. I am getting too used to you driving me around.
Hem: I’ll see you in the office tomorrow then?
Aaduri: Unless... Nevermind. Goodnight.
12.05am, Manjulika’s bedroom.
Manjulika: You are still watching TV? Turn it off right now. Is this why you stayed back tonight? To watch TV?
Nimki: Na na, I like to give my son and daughter-in-law some privacy. Who wants a mother-in-law hovering about all the time? I missed my serials today. First, Ronnyda came. Then you and Mamoni fought. Then Aaduri came. Now let me relax. You want a paan?
Manjulika: Fine, give me one. What happened to the girl who was kidnapped yesterday?
Nimki: The dacoits are keeping her in a dungeon. But unknown to them, the hero has managed to infiltrate the group. Here. I have added that sweet shupuri you like. Is Mamoni okay?
Manjulika: I think so.
Nimki: Tomorrow onwards, she and I are busy about Molly’s wedding. She is in-charge. I am second in-charge.
Manjulika: It was nice to see Ronny. He’s still the same.
Nimki: No airs. That’s good. I am praying to Ma Kali that they sort out their fights once and for all.
Manjulika: Don’t say such things, Nimki. Your Mamoni will bite off our heads. Apparently mothers and aunts can’t even wish happiness on their children because “happiness” is an irrelevant concept. Bojho.
Nimki: I know where to say what. You are the one who is always blabbing. She has her pride, understand that. If Ma Kali doesn’t listen and Ronnyda marries that whatsherface girl, that actress, Mamoni should not feel too crushed.
Manjulika: You and your Mamoni, I am sorry to say, know nothing of love. What is all this pride? She must be willing to confront her own feelings. And accept her mistakes.
Nimki: Okay, now, let me watch my serial in peace.
(To be continued)
