Howrah, West Bengal
During the school vacation, Shreya is going to her great-aunt’s house in Ratanpur village, leaving the city. In the intense heat of May, the train rushes through the vast fields. Sitting by the window, she gazes outside. The train keeps moving, then stopping again, leaving everything behind. Shreya is engrossed in the view when her great-aunt’s voice breaks her trance: “We’ll get off at the next station.” “Finish the water from the bottle.” Following her great-aunt's advice, Shreya drinks the water and tightly holds her great-aunt’s hand. The train gradually slows down and eventually comes to a stop.
It’s an empty station, with only a few passengers disembarking. Holding her great-aunt’s hand, she sees the sign that reads Ratanpur. Nearby is a rickshaw stand; her great-aunt puts her in one of the rickshaws and climbs in herself. The rickshaw driver is instructed to hurry because it’s hot. The vehicle moves with the sound of the pedals clinking on the red clay road, amidst the hot breeze. Occasionally, there’s the shadow of trees, the distant call of a bull tied to a post, and the call of unfamiliar birds—all of which she observes and listens to in amazement. Can you see these things in the city? Eventually, when they reach a certain turn, her great-aunt shouts, “Here, here, stop here.” “Come on, Shreya, get down.” Her great-aunt, holding both bags, gets out. By then, Shreya has already jumped down and started running. It’s been so long since she visited her great-aunt's house. After crossing the bamboo bridge over the canal, she enters the house surrounded by tulsi plants and a bamboo fence. Today, her cousins Argha and Shraboni are waiting for her. They are overjoyed to see Shreya. Argha has drawn so many pictures in one room, and there’s a dollhouse in Shraboni’s room.
Argha says, "Tomorrow I’ll take you to the banyan tree field. We’ll play all day and pluck mangoes by throwing stones." At the same time, Shraboni interjects, "No, Shreya, first I’ll take you to Kusum Danga’s Shaluk Pond. There are so many kinds of birds there, and the red Shaluk flowers bloom in the pond."
Suddenly, their great-aunt's voice interrupts, "Argha, Shraboni, be quiet for a moment. Let her sit down and rest. You’ve been chattering nonstop. She’s come all this way by car. Here, Shreya, change your clothes and wash your hands and face. I’m bringing some ghugni and paratha. Everyone, come and eat."
They all come eagerly to eat. While eating, Shreya looks from the veranda and sees how the sun is hiding behind the bushes and trees in the distance. The canal water reflects its red color. As evening falls, the darkness thickens, and the crickets chirp. In the bamboo grove behind the house, there’s a sound in the breeze.
Suddenly, Shreya is startled by some unknown noise, which makes Argha and Shraboni burst into laughter.
"Is that the cry of a jackal?" Argha asks. "It calls out at dusk from the field, listen, it’s calling again, hukka huya."
Shraboni adds, "There are many things that call at night—bats, owls, wild cats. Aren’t you afraid of them?"
"Why should I be afraid?" Shreya responds. "You hear these sounds every day."
Argha asks, "Have you ever seen a jackal?"
Shreya shakes her head, "Yes, I’ve seen one in the zoo."
Just then, Argha’s grandmother comes and asks, "So, children, what story are you discussing?"
Everyone is delighted to see their grandmother. Argha exclaims, "Grandma, tell us a long story today."
"Which story do you want to hear?" Grandma asks. "The story of the Rakshasa or the story of the Bhyangma-Bhyangmi?"
Argha says, "Tell us a ghost story."
Shraboni interrupts, "No, Grandma, not a ghost story. Tell us how the prince saved the princess from the demoness, the story where you left off yesterday, from Patala Puri."
"Alright, dear, let’s finish that story today," says Grandma, pulling the three of them close and starting the tale.
As Grandma tells the story, Shreya loses herself in a world of imagination. Her mind fills with the heroism of the prince, and the princess, the demoness, and the prince seem to come alive. It feels as though the prince and princess are arriving in front of their house on the magical horse.
Thus, several days pass for Shreya at her great-aunt’s house. During this time, she becomes familiar with the Shaluk Pond, Kusum Danga’s fields, and the burnt land of Basantpur. She makes many friends.
With only three days left before the summer vacation ends and school resumes with studies and exams, Shreya feels very sad. She doesn’t want to leave her great-aunt’s house at all. She cries quietly in Shraboni’s dollhouse, thinking about how she won’t hear Grandma’s stories anymore and won’t get her affection. In the city, no one tells stories like this. Even though she had a grandmother of her own, who used to fill her days with love and stories, she was taken away in the car one day. Her father took her away, and Grandma never came back.
"Where is Grandma? Why isn’t she coming?" Shreya had asked.
Her mother had said that Grandma had gone to live with relatives and would stay there from now on. Shreya was very angry that day. "No one stays at relatives' house for so long! I’m just going from my great-aunt’s house to my own house, so why isn’t Grandma coming back? Doesn’t it sadden you, Grandma? Come back, Grandma, come back."
Shreya’s cries are heard by her great-aunt from a distance. She pulls Shreya close, wipes her tears with her pallu, and wipes her own eyes as well. After a while, she says, "Don’t cry, dear. Your father has arrived downstairs. Come."
Shreya notices that her great-aunt is speaking in a low, muffled voice from a little distance. She hears, "You did not handle this correctly, dear. You cannot just remove someone from the family and expect things to be fine. Elder parents are the pillars of the family. It is customary and our duty to keep them with respect."
Shreya notices her father’s face is tense and serious. After a while, her father says, "You are right. The mistake was ours. Now I understand why Shreya is so melancholic. Her laughter, cheerfulness, and liveliness seem to have disappeared. He embraces Shreya and says, "You have opened my eyes, dear. Now I understand."
How important grandfathers and grandmothers are to children, and how you cope with loneliness at home, I’ve understood. No more, Shreya; let's go to your grandmother right now. To the small room in the old age home where your grandmother has been living for a year and a half.
Seeing everyone’s faces light up with happiness, including your father’s and grandmother’s, your great-aunt becomes cheerful. Argha and Shraboni join in the excitement suddenly.
Her father says, “Let’s go, it’s getting late.” In a joyous atmosphere, everyone heads out onto the street and gets into the rickshaw. The train continues to rush with the same clinking sound as before.
At one point, Shreya asks, “Dad, how far is the old age home?”
“Just a little, we’re almost there.”
Seeing her grandmother in that small room of the old age home, Shreya hugs her. Tears roll down her grandmother’s cheeks upon seeing her granddaughter. Her father says, “Let’s go home now.”
“Yes, Grandma, let’s go home right now. How long has it been since you told us stories, those ghost and demon stories, fairy tales? Here, Dad, take Grandma’s bags.” Shreya holds on to her grandmother’s pallu just like before and walks with her father, taking her grandmother with her.