Made for each other - English Story


 
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MADE FOR EACH OTHER KABINDRA CHATTERJEE

An old story comes to my mind. It’s a true story indeed. We two friends had been working in the same office. Very intimate friends we were. You can guess how close we were from the fact that his uncle ordered me and me only to accompany my friend to have a glimpse at his already selected bride. Of course my friend was not aware of the awful reality that the bride had already been selected by his JYATHAMASAI and it was his kindness or you may call generosity that the gentleman thought of giving him an opportunity to stare at a young beautiful girl and that too at the girl’s residence just before her marriage. So we two took some preparations and specially me because I have had never such an opportunity to select something (someone) for someone else. I was a free man but you can well understand how tensed my friend was, he dressed up nicely and was looking quite handsome that really he was but the amount of sweat oozing out through the millions of pores spread all over his well-built attractive body had given him the smart look of a clerk who for his mistakes was being rebuked and scolded before some fifty odd curious grinning faces. It looked that he had no time to get his clothes dried up and ironed before wearing them on. We took a cab and reached the girl’s house. The cab did not roll up to the house because the road rolled up its way nearly half a kilometer away from the house. It was rather good for us as we got a cushioning time while strolling and easing ourselves before having that great glimpse.

We were mistaken. They all knew that we had to walk down that final stretch. Suddenly we discovered a fairly large crowd before us. All of them were approaching us with stretched out hands as if they would take us in their lap and whisk away. An old man was leading the team. His smile soaked with a deep sense of cordiality identified him as the father of the Lady. He quite gently led us to the house but his fatherly approach couldn’t help control my friend from perspiring again. When we stepped in, the sky looked yellow and the twilight flooded the room. Before we got to settle ourselves, dishes heaped with sweetmeats were put in front of us. All the sweets looked yellow. Little later, I could hear someone weeping inside and with a view to making us unaware of that humming noise everyone present in the room started pressing on in chorus to eat all those yellow sweets. It is only then when I had to take out my handkerchief. Suddenly there was all quiet in the inside front. Instead of weep it was rustling sound. The lady wearing a beautiful sari and with ornaments on slowly came in and her father helped her to sit on a chair in a way one keeps the most precious article inside a cascade. This activity impressed me the most and I looked up to see her face. That too was yellow.

My friend pushed me with his elbow. He wanted me to take an interview of the lady. I was reluctant and in fact I was a bit puzzled as everything was looking yellow to me. A few formal questions, one or two sweets, never- to- go smiles and then we got up. I intended just to sprint out and light up a cigarette. However, we were lucky to have a smooth exit although a few of them came along with us till we got a rickshaw, the rescuer.

My friend kept mum for long. I couldn’t guess whether he was fighting with himself or the glimpse which indeed was charming had made him forget the world around him. We reached the bus stop and he paid the fare which was perhaps more than what the puller had expected. We crossed the road and he took me to a restaurant for a cup of tea. We sat facing each other and he broke the silence, “Tell me, what your impression is?” I tried to convince him that my impression was of little importance since the whole affair was pertaining to his marriage, not me and naturally he should have spoken his heart out. He seemed to have been waiting to hear those words from me and he made every possible effort to explain why the girl could not be an ideal match for him. He even insisted on me to agree with him as we were very close friends and if I didn’t stand beside him, he won’t get escape from his JYATHAMASAI. So awfully he was making his heart out that I lost my control and without any restraint I remarked that the lady was beautiful but her face was yellow. She must be having some serious ailments. My friend just fixed his eyes at me for sometime, his jaws were stiffening, looks looked vacant and I heard a determined voice saying, “I am not going to marry her. Come what may, this is final.” I was at a fix. I quite softly tried to persuade him not to take such a crucial decision in haste. Many other considerations were there and it might be a question of life and death both for the girl and her old caring father. The girl lost her mother at a young age and perhaps she didn’t get the parental care at her young age and that might be the reason for her ailment. At this, my friend who normally didn’t get excited strongly pleaded that marriage couldn’t be a matter of charity and in his case too it was a question of life and death. Helplessly I gave up but the matter haunted me the next few hours if I had contributed in taking him a decision that undoubtedly would have some adverse effects in the girl’s mind. That evening we had cups of tea together and walked down a few kilometers.

Next day I didn’t find my friend in office. He gave me a phone call, asked me to go to their house in the evening. I went and discovered that it was his JYATHAMASAI’s call indeed. He was sitting in an arm chair with a heavy face. He straightway threw questions at me, “Are you a doctor? Even the doctors cannot declare someone ill without investigation. How could you be so sure? See, she is my selection. Your friend has to marry her. Its my decision. Do you follow?” He said all those at one go and I answered his last question meekly saying, “Yes”. Then he told me the entire schedule, the arrangements already made by him and all other related details and the marriage was held nicely and we enjoyed the ceremony. My friend looked happy and the frequency of my visit to their house kept on increasing. We two were friends, in no time we three became friends.

A full year of their marriage was going to be completed. Now no JYATHAMASAI, he breathed his last a couple of months ago following a severe cardiac arrest. So my friend made all the arrangements independently. Of course his wife took the lead and her commendable efficiency placed her in the armchair that used to be occupied by JYATHAMASAI. The auspicious day came and this time the invitees were not too many but the arrangements were simply flawless. Touch of that beautiful lady could be felt in all the things, be it decoration, reception, food or any frivolous thing. That evening was unique by all its grandeur and I discovered that my friend had by then turned to a proud husband. Just before my departure the lady caught me by hands and before the full house asked me with simper, “Do I still look sick?” Her question, her glittering eyes, the smile sticking to her husband’s face and the laughter of other invitees just made me numbed and the only option left with me was perhaps to vanish myself by a kind of magic, but it was not to be. My words were lost but laugh does not need any word. So I joined the chorus and when I bade them all good bye I discovered that by then others had stopped but I was laughing still.


 
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