The Last Sip

The Last Sip

She sat in the Starbucks Café, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. ..

‘CUT’, the Director shouted as he also with a grin signaled the spot boys to pack up. He was gratified atlast. Shalini was relieved too. After five retakes the shot was finalized. This was her first big break in so called soap opera and the last scene of a three year long Bengali serial called ‘Bhorer Alo’, was finally and yes finally over. She played the vamp here, but doesn't matter, atleast now her work got noticed in the industry and she is getting good offers too. She desperately wanted to play heroine someday. Director, Pradhan, showed special sympathies for her, and offered her to drop home several times but she subtly turned down such advances.

Mrs. Shalini Mishra. She is known just as Shalini. It is difficult to get any roles for a newcomer with a married tag. Not to mention about kids too! She takes a cab from Tollygunj. She intends to go directly to Bhawanipore, where in her small two room flat, Rishi and Muni are waiting patiently for their mother to return. When she gets late, she asks Molina di, the nanny to stay put for the night. But today she will get home early. Yet something bothers her, she gets jittery and anxious. ‘Hello Molina di! What are the kids doing? Have they finished their home work?

‘Ha did, you will return early today? I told them so’

‘ I will get a little late, but definitely I will fetch them some toys. Just for today, stay a bit more. And yes, donot open the door to any one. You remember…?’

‘Okay didi….’

‘Do not open the door to anyone till I come .’…Shalini ‘s voice trembled as she spoke these words. Already the cab was speeding the Hazra crossing when Shalini asked the driver to take a detour to Chetla. ‘ Didi, you asked Bhawanipore..but now you  want to go to Chetla, you have to give hundred rupees extra.’…the driver looked at her through the looking glass.

‘Okay… ‘ she said. Its better not to annoy a taxi driver in Kolkata. Shalini retouched her make up somehow in the moving cab. Her fair skin, hazel eyes and slender body was quite captivating.  She could command any male’s attention . Just twenty six and already a mother of two kids, aged six and four, yet she looked a girl freshly out of college.

She got down at  Chetala. And today she did not mind paying the extra hundred rupees to the driver, too. She entered the by lane from the Rakhi Sangha club. She walked faster and knocked the shabby green gate of 12 B Ramakanta Dhar Lane.  She started to perspire even in the early December evening.

‘Who is there?’, an elderly woman,  in her mid sixties came out.

‘ I am looking for Rajat… ah..actually we work in the same office, and I happen to pass by this way..so I thought…’, Shalini fumbled as she said.

‘No. He is not here now…’, the woman said sternly and vanished inside the house.

Shalini stood there for a few minutes. Rajat never told that his mother would come. For the past few days he was avoiding her calls. But this was not unnatural as after a fight this ritual of avoiding calls go on for a couple of weeks. But somehow she has started losing confidence in her relationship. Rajat and Shalini were a couple from school days. They were both students  of Striding High School. Things changed after their final exam.

Shalini went to spend her holidays at Siliguri with her Uncle and Aunt. Shalini’s aunt was just five years elder to her. She was just in his mid twenties then. He introduced a friend to Shalini, a wealthy business man named Samar. Samar Mishra had his chain of garment shops set up in Nepal. He was swanky, handsome though on the healthier side yet Shalini was drawn towards him. The new Hummer was one of its kind in the small Siliguri town. Shalini became intimate with Samar and their romance continued for next two years. Shalini got married at the tender age of eighteen and then the fairy tale romance started fading away.  The property of the Mishras’ was divided amongst Samar’s five brothers after their father’s death on the same year. Samar, started gambling, got involved in brawls and atimes returned home drunk and injured. Shalini with two children felt cheated. Women became a part of Samar’s life and Shalini’s endless miseries too. She left his place with just her own jewelry and the two kids.  After briefly staying with her parents in Dhakuria , she moved to her own abode in Bhawanipore, away from the shadow of Samar. Samar had started invading her parents place in Dhakuria and demanding money.

After couple of years she again met Rajat at a  Jatin Das Park metro station. He was working for a News Channel. She was elated to see him and some where the pangs of gilt also pained her. Rajat , sympathized , after hearing her plight. He was hurt though. She knew it.

Later, phone calls increased between them. They met regularly. Rajat was an ambitious scribe and looked promising. He seemed to have taken a liking for the kids. The difficult jig saw puzzle of life was gradually finding a solution for Shalini. Rajat believed in her dream that she would make it to the highest echelon in the film industry, the most popular heroine. They planned to get married shortly.

Unexpectedly life took a different turn.

 A month before Samar found her address. He stalked her and started blackmailing for money or he would ask for the custody of the kids. Shalini, gave him money in installments. He hungered for more. He followed her to the studios and introduced himself as her husband quite authoritatively.  

Sounds of thundering jolted Shalini back to reality. May be the untimely December shower again! She walked towards the main road. Thoughts of Samar puzzled Shalini and she raced back home. While on the stairs she heard a scuffle.

She was aghast to see a dunked Samar trying to enter the house. Kids were screaming from inside and Molona di, was injured in the eye. Seeing Shalini, he raised his voice more and abused her. She writhed with anger.

‘Samar stop ..stop I said…or..’

‘Do hell with u…where is the money..ha?’….he shouted and the kids shrieked with fear. He tried to go inside the house…just then..as Shalini grabbed her bag she found the knife which was used in her last shot accidentally remained with her. Without dithering for a moment she clutched the knife and stabbed Samar several times. Gradually he lay still. She cried in pain, in fear or may be in guilt. But then, she exactly knew what to do. She took Molina di into confidence, closed the door ensuring that the kids donot witness such an act. They dragged Samar’s lifeless body into the corner of the balcony. It was raining heavily and probably no one heard him. It was pitch dark too. The kids were quiet and huddled in their room. ‘Molina di, I think my worries are over,’. ..she cried again but with firm resolve got a luggage bag and dumped Samar’s body inside. Molinadi, still trembling with fear repeatedly looked outside. Shalini assured Molina di, dragged the luggage bag and walked away.

She took a cab to Howrah. The driver charged extra as it was raining. Shalini became fearless. She knew the worst was over. She can live a peaceful life, with kids and Rajat. The thought of Rajat brought a relief in her.

She bought the ticket of the last Bandel Local. Shalini boarded the train with the luggage. It was the last train so very few passengers were there. A couple of them noticed the huge luggage or may be noticed her face as she was gradually becoming popular. But whatever be, she chose to ignore. She just wanted to get relieve of this luggage or rather her… so called husband. After a few stations, she was the only one left in the compartment. She got down at Baidyabati station leaving the luggage behind. The train chugged out of the station and so her worries. Atleast she thought so.

The strength and courage which covered her for the past three hours or so, seemed to fade away. She called Rajat. ‘Will he avoid my call again!’ she thought.

‘Hello Lini..’

Hearing his voice she broke down. He affectionately called her Lini. She narrated every detail. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Rajat heard everything with unusual calmness. Asked her to remain poise and promised her to meet at the Park Street Starbucks next day at 11 am. When she kept the phone, she was much relieved. She huddled in a corner of a station, covering her face slightly with dupatta. Few beggars and street dogs only gave her company. She boarded the first train in the morning.

As she entered the house the kids were sleeping. She kissed their forehead and slept there for couple of hours. Molina di woke her up.

‘I wont work any more, I am afraid. I want to go back to Canning..in my village…’

‘Nothing will happen now..I will double your pay…’..

‘But didi…what if police…’

‘Shhhh Rishi and Muni are sleeping..you will wake them up with your unnecessary worries..’

Molina di walked away towards the kitchen.

After sometime Shalini walked out of the house. Dressed in a pretty pink top and denim, she looked ravishing. The soft sun of the winter morning made her look radiant. She took a cab to the Outram Ghat. Strolled along the ghat for an hour. She was perhaps preparing for the new dawn in her life. At 10:30 am she took a cab to Park Street. She was waiting for Rajat eagerly. The watch paced ahead to 12 pm and Rajat was not picking up calls. Shalini was getting edgy as Rajat had been always very punctual. Her mind probed through a lot of possibilities, including his mother falling ill to his boss not permitting half day’s leave.

Her phone rang. She was overjoyed to see Rajat’s name flashed on the screen. ‘ohhh where are you… I am waiting for..’ Shalini was interrupted.

‘Listen,’ said Rajat. ‘Just wait and surrender. Do not try to flee. Police has surrounded the Café. They have recovered Samar’s body too. I will reach the Café in another five minutes…’

Shalini lay still. With bated breath she only thought about her children. An ambitious and upcoming journalist like Rajat, could not let go this opportunity of creating a ‘sansani..’.. Shalini couldn’t fathom why she did not get an inkling about Rajat’s next move…Why? Is there nothing in this life called Trust? Questions wrecked her heart.

Heavy footsteps followed inside the Café.  Still she sat in the Starbucks Café, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf.

She failed to become a heroine. She remained a vamp in reel and real-life too.