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Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

I slowly open my eyes as the car honks at the massive gates of the red brick building with green windows --- traditional Calcutta architecture.
The cool air of the car contrasted with the humid weather of Kolkata in the summer months of June. I felt nauseated since I was never a big fan of travelling by road and those oily " Kochuris" at Shaktigarh did not fare well.
Oh no here comes the gastric reflux!

After suffering for the past five minutes and finally learning my lesson to never overestimate my stomach,  I picked up our luggage from the trunk of the car.
Shyambazar did not disappoint at all, to be honest. Last year, my dad was promoted to be the head of the department in his office but that requires him to operate from the main branch, here in Kolkata. My family decided to move since I have just graduated 10th grade and was already in search of schools with a good curriculum. It seemed as if Universe made it all favourable for us to move. So here we are in my maternal home of Shyambazar, the epitome of the liveliest neighbourhood I have seen.  The door enters into an open courtyard surrounded by 4 walls filled with rooms and stairs leading to each black and white tiled floor with cotton white curtains ad every door fluttering in the breeze.
Krishna di, our household greets us with tall glasses of Noon-Chinir shorbot, basically a refreshingly cold sweet and salt water drink. The big bronze cauldrons kept upside down in the kitchen remind me of all the times in my childhood when Didaan, my maternal grandmother held puja at her house and cooked Bhog for the whole neighbourhood. The kitchen opens into a large sunray-filled kitchen garden.

There is a foldable bedstead lined with a bedsheet and raw mango pieces mixed with spices are kept to sundry.
After all, Didaan and summer go hand in hand. Jars of pickles fill up our shelves, all of them finger-licking good. Chewing onto a piece of spicy raw mango I climb the stairs to the third floor.  Didaan's room is there. I slowly open the oak brown coloured doors to find her sitting in pure grace, with her eyes closed in absolute prayer,  draped in her soft tant saree & her freshly washed hair in a neat bun. I hug them from behind and plant a kiss on her cheek.
" Arre !! You all have arrived? " shrieks my grandma in shock.
She knew we arrived. She was patiently searching for our car in the busy lanes of our Para from her balcony; waiting, soaked in patience yet her heart jumps up and down in childish excitement.
The smell of jasmine incense fills up the room as sunrays intrude like a shy bird in a grain field.

She tells me to change my clothes and wait at the dining table for lunch. I pace out of the room and lean on the railing of the hallway looking at the intricate architecture when I heard a calm, orotund voice in the courtyard.
There he was.
My eyes meet with a boy's, visage as clear as the sky after August rains, eyes --  brown but not the usual shade. Almond brown eyes basking under the sweet sunshine looks like a swirl of innocence and jocund.

" Kakima !! Mother has sent some delectable curry in regards to the sweets you sent for us".