A Change of Heart

The death of Mrs. Shyama Chaudhuri had left her husband deeply troubled. Mr. Ranjan Chaudhuri, at 87 years of age, was left all alone in the world. Ranjan Chaudhuri’s best friend at the time of his wife’s death was a man 28 years younger than him. Biplob was 59, on the verge of retirement. “Ready to officially enter the world of the old folks,” he always joked. Ranjan could identify with the humor of that statement so well, that it brought a snicker to his eyes. Every time he heard the joke.

It was Biplob who had introduced Mr. and Mrs. Chaudhuri to the world of computers. Ranjan never knew that he could grasp computers so well, even at that age. Soon after he got his new computer, Ranjan spent hours together playing games with his grandson Tukai. Shyama, however, had been hooked on to social networking sites.

Shyama’s heart attack struck her in the middle of the night, while the elderly couple was sleeping peacefully. Ranjan had known something like this was about to happen, but hadn’t expected the incident to come about so suddenly, silently. The next morning was one of the toughest to deal with for Ranjan. He hardly remembered making the call to Biplob about what had happened during the night. Biplob and his wife had come over, and taken charge of the whole situation for Ranjan.

A few hours later, while leaving the cremation grounds, the reality of the events hit Ranjan. Biplob and Ranjan were walking back to the parking lot, when Ranjan’s footsteps slowed down a miniscule bit. Biplob noticed, but didn’t want to ask anything; couldn’t ask, actually. Ranjan however, spoke up.

“She took another quiz on Facebook last night. Something about what we were in our previous life. The result came out as lovers,” Ranjan smiled a sad smile, “and it confirmed what she always told me for the last 62 years. We’ll still be together in our next life.”

Biplob smiled too, but somehow, he felt that his smile was intruding on something private and pure and guarded between Ranjan and Shyama Chaudhuri. He bowed his head, and walked to the car. It was the first time that they drove together in silence.

*****

Ranjan and Shyama had gotten married when they were both in their 20’s, deeply in love. They were childhood friends, and it was an obvious choice to be made. They were the best of friends, and all through their school days, when Ranjan used to be away, they used to write 40 page letters to each other. Once school was over for Ranjan, and he came back home, it was only a matter of time before the two of them got married.

As Ranjan and Biplob were walking back home after the drive, Ranjan remembered the wonderful life that he had had, all because of the woman who passed away a night ago, lying right next to him. A best friend, a wife, the mother of his children, the strongest woman of his whole family, and she had been lost in just a matter of hours. Just a few hours ago, Ranjan remembered, they were sitting on the edge of the bed having a silly discussion about ice skating. How he missed her…

Biplob left him alone with his thoughts, and went outside to talk to the many relatives who had come over to mourn for Shyama, and Ranjan’s loss.

*****

Ranjan couldn’t get the memories of his wife out of his mind. The constant longing to see Shyama one more time drove him inward, away from the rest of the world. He hardly got out of his room, except for the long walks that he took every day in solitude. The walks became longer and longer as the days went by; whole weeks would soon pass by without him interacting with the rest of his family. Many a times, Ranjan’s son would find Tukai waiting patiently for his gaming partner to accompany him on another mission, but Ranjan wouldn’t be there for Tukai. He kept wondering what had happened to his grandfather, but he somehow got no real answers to all his questions.

Ranjan found a new hobby instead; in place of running to the virtual world, he now escaped into books. Religion, philosophy, history… Ranjan devoured all. He would read into the wee hours of the night, and wake up at the earliest possible hour to run to the library. During his walks, a small notebook would accompany him, and he could be spotted scribbling something in it during the early morning hours. Sitting on a lonely wooden bench in the middle of an overgrown, wild park, he would finally feel content with… something…

****

In reality, Ranjan never forgot how much he missed Shyama. He also didn’t forget the promise that she had made to him before she passed on – that she would be his again, in the next life. Ranjan’s inward drive had brought him to a startling decision; he would end his life, so that once more, he could be with his beloved. In reality, he was trying to search for the justifications of such an act; for he knew that it was a heinous crime to take any life, including your own. In reality, he was looking for a means to escape his life, that he could explain when justice posed the questions – in this life or the next.

So obsessed had he become with that quest, that everything else seemed irrelevant to him. He read scriptures, all of which condemned such an act. He read books on philosophy, which talked about the reasons why a person would commit suicide. Still, his answers, his justifications, they eluded him. He had given up hope of ever finding a solution, and the best that he could come up with was the simple line that his heart always said to him – “I love her, and I miss her.” Nothing else seemed to be important anymore. And so, he went down to the chemist shop and got the seven strips of sleeping pills.

*****

It was just by chance that Biplob was also present in the chemist shop when Ranjan purchased the pills. He didn’t need to see the notebook or the list of books that Ranjan had been reading, to get to know just what was happening. The slight tremble of Ranjan’s hands, as he picked up the small brown pack, was enough for his best friend to know what was happening. A few steps out of the shop, Biplob caught up with Ranjan.

“Hi, Ranjan,” whispered Biplob, right behind him. Ranjan jumped, as he hadn’t expected anyone to be around him.

“What are you doing here?” Ranjan asked, suddenly very defensive.

“You know why I’m here, Ranjan. You know what I’m going to ask from you. You know I’m here to take away that little brown paper pack from you. You know I’m going to throw away the paper packet. You know me well already, Ranjan, enough for me not to have to tell you why I’m here.”

Ranjan didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected this, it wasn’t anywhere in the plans. Even as he heard everything Biplob was saying, one part of him wanted to clutch the little packet and run.

“You don’t get it. I miss her, so much…” Ranjan’s eyes watered up for the first time, as he said these words to someone besides himself.

“I know that. I know just how much you love her, and I know how much you miss her. Still, believe me; you don’t want to do this.”

“What do you mean? You think I’m a coward, that I’d stop myself at this stage?”

“No, Ranjan. All I mean is, you aren’t ready yet,” said Biplob, and the little brown paper bag was gently removed from Ranjan’s hands.

“Come, I’ll walk you home. It’ll be fun – two old folks, walking down the road!”

The smile wasn’t really there on Ranjan’s lips, but his eyes gleamed, as though they were smiling at an old joke that he’d heard a long time back.

*****

Two days later, Biplob came to see Ranjan at home. There was an odd gleam in the old and tired eyes, as though they had found some new energy. Biplob was happy to see his old friend this way.

“Tukai’s waiting for you. He got a new game, for you. That, I think, you’re ready for,” said Biplob.

“I might be. Still, there is a lot more that needs to be done; both for me, and for Tukai. A few things that are much more important than video games or social networking sites or virtual worlds.”

“Like what?” asked Biplob.

Ranjan laced his old boots together, picked up his wooden walking stick, and said, “Like building a few memories, for both of us.”