Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   standard categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


CANCER (standard:drama, 5962 words)
Author: abhijit dasguptaAdded: Jun 14 2006Views/Reads: 3464/2314Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Abhijit Dasgupta, 46, has been an Indian editor with 24 yrs in print journalism. He dabbles in fiction and has been published in not-too-big publications. This story (attached) is about an Indian woman and how she is led into a devious trap by her onetime
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Uddalok spoke silently. " Because I am convinced that you still love
me." 

Suparna sprang up like a goddess in anger. "Then you are wrong. I was
never in love with you. I have always treated you as a friend. If you 
have not been clever enough to understand, it's your funeral." And 
then, she became cruel. " Anyway, that's not too far." 

Uddalok suddenly seemed to turn into a corpse. He turned towards the
fall, not facing Suparna any longer. 

"Ekbar, just ekbar. Once, Suparna," Uddalok said feebly, still not
facing her. "Before I die." 

" Then die!" Suparna blazed out of the room, not looking back for a
second. 

************************************ 

Uddalok had always been the undisputed gang leader, the mastaan who
always as if he owned the world. He had many female admirers, most of 
whom he ignored while he had countless rivals for whom he only had 
contempt. He was a chain-smoker and there were rumours in the college 
canteen that the smart, six-footer Uddalok had once challenged a friend 
that he would light up in class, a feat which he achieved without the 
lecturer realising what was happening behind his back. Literally, that 
is, because the smart guy had done his deed when the older man was 
writing on the blackboard and stubbed out the just-lit cigarette in a 
matter of seconds. He won the bet anyway though there were fights over 
whether lighting up and stubbing the cigarette immediately was part of 
the deal. Most of the girls in class supported Uddalok. Smart, handsome 
guys could be crooked and devious but they always had the women behind 
them in college. On top of that, Uddalok was a trained actor. He 
regularly played the hero at college functions. 

This was a decade and half ago. Apart from the countless others, Uddalok
worshipped himself as if he was his own god. The rest of the world 
meant little to him. Suparna liked and bonded with him but ignored him 
whenever she felt the need to do so. Uddalok, on his part, was madly in 
love. If there was one woman in the world he could die for, it was 
Suparna. She knew that. Whenever she talked to Uddalok, she made it 
apparent as to who was the boss. 

Surprisingly, Uddalok never ever cold-shouldered Subhajit. They were not
the best of friends but the relationship had always remained cordial. 

Somehow, Suparna was always slightly confused and circumspect about the
two men in her life sharing a cigarette together. It made her feel 
uneasy though she did not have an answer as to why. 

Uddalok had never even touched her, not on any pretext ever. 

*********************************** 

They had lost contact after college but Suparna and Subhajit both made
it a point to visit Uddalok at his home at Hatibagan in old North 
Calcutta to invite him for their wedding. That was almost five years 
after they had graduated and not met even once, all three of them busy 
furthering their careers. Subhajit had landed a lecturer's job and was 
now absorbed in his Shelley, Tennyson and Wordsworth. He was rising and 
he gave everything to his career, slogging both at home with tuitions 
while attending every class with the same seriousness as if that was 
his first one. 

Suparna was unambitous; her only thoughts lay with Subhajit's success.
She was herself a good student and after much persuasion by Subhajit 
had taken up a school teacher's job in a renowned Montessori school. 
She was happy with children and the kids worshipped her. 

The stage was set for marriage. 

Uddalok bounded out of his ground floor room as he saw Suparna and
Subhajit at the gate. 

"Arrey, tora? You guys? Ah! I know...It's been five years... Kotodin
pore toder dekhlam ...Long time Where's the invitation card? Come, come 
inside. Let's have some tea." 

After some small talk, they left, with Suparna handing over Uddalok
their new address. Subhajit had already bought an apartment on the 
Bypass. Both of them had done up the house; it was a pretty picture. 
Uddalok said that he would be there at the wedding. 

In the event, he started visiting Suparna's house from the very next day
and, in a matter of days, made himself so indispensable that not a 
single major decision was made by the family without consulting him. 
Suparna did not quite like this and told her father as much. 

"Ah, Buri! You fuss over everything. He doesn't have a job. You were
college friends. If he wants to do this much for you, what's the 
problem? He means well, let me tell you," he father had reprimanded 
her. Suparna let it be, keeping quiet but an uneasiness lurked deep 
inside her which she tucked away. 

Uddalok was almost the host at the wedding. The family was later to
confide in private gatherings that the marriage would not have gone off 
so smoothly had it not been for this bohemian young, handsome man with 
a stubble. 

A relative_ there is bound to be at least one such presence at all
Indian weddings_ even ventured to ask Suparna's mother whether she 
thought Uddalok was a better candidate for her daughter's hand than 
Subhajit. 

Suparna's mother had looked the other way and said, with some sense of
remorse, " Ki korbo? What could I have done? It was Buri's choice. And 
anyway, Uddalok doesn't have a job." Then, switching topic, she said, " 
When are you visiting Subhajit's new apartment? They have everything 
there. The works. My son-in-law has been a good choice." The relative 
would smirk and move away. 

After that, it had been a decade. Suparna suddenly met Uddalok at
Ballygunge near her school, of which she was now principal, absolutely 
by accident but not without its inherent sense of drama that had always 
been Uddalok's calling card. 

As their eyes met, both of them forgot that they were now pushing 40. 

***************************************** 

Suparna's car had conked out that morning and she had been forced to
take a cab to school. Subhajit had offered to drop her but she had 
refused saying that she was already late. After school hours, which was 
around 5 in the evening, she ambled out of the gate, sure that there 
would be a cab waiting somewhere on the main road. 

Suddenly, she noticed a cab screech to a halt in front of her. She
looked through the front window and told the driver of her destination. 
Before the driver could even respond, a strong, male hand opened the 
rear door and was on the seat in an instant. An indignant Suparna 
didn't even look inside and curtly told the driver, " Onake namte 
bolun. Ami agey dhorechi . Ask him to get out, I got you first." 

There's was a moment's silence as the driver tried to salvage the
situation by looking back and telling the man , " Sir, please. She 
called me first." 

Uddalok's gentle voice gave the answer in typically his style, "Don't
worry, Driver ji. She will come with me." 

Suparna faintly recognized the voice, and then she looked in, sharply
exclaiming, " Tumi? My God, the last person I expected was you. Where 
are you going?' 

" Home, Tumi? You going home? You still work in this school?" 

" I am the principal,'she sounded proud. " Anyway, you go. I will get
another cab. Hope you are well. Drop in sometime. Subhajit will love 
that." 

"And you...?" He left it hanging, definitely deliberately. 

" Of course, I will love it too. Drop in any time." 

" You get in first. I will drop you home. Goppo kora jabe. We can talk
in the meantime." 

Suparna was only too willing. It would have been a pain to get a cab
now. Also, she was meeting Uddalok after ages and she too wanted to 
talk. 

The spark had suddenly come alive again. 

****************************************** 

They talked and they talked. Old times, middle times and present times.
It was a long journey and with the traffic snarl-ups holding back their 
cab every fifteen minutes, they had time on their hands. 

" You have become thinner. You unwell or something?"Suparna asked with
concern. 

Uddalok shrugged. " Jani na. Majehe majhe mathata ghorey. The head
reels, could be blood pressure. Otherwise, I am fine." 

" Why didn't you get married?" 

" Because you married Subhajit," Uddalok let out one of his huge laughs.
Suparna joined in too.The man hadn't changed one bit. 

" There's still time. We are 38, aren't we?" 

" Never counted, should be. I don't think marriage will suit me, not
without you." Suparna suddenly felt a chill down her spine as Uddalok's 
voice turned slightly serious, for the the first time since they had 
met. 

After exchanging numbers and addresses. Suparna got down. She asked
Uddalok upstairs but he had a tuition to go to after home and left. 
Suparna noticed_she always noticed these small things_ that Uddalok 
didn't even look back once after the cab had reversed gear. 

Uddalok had now shifted to a one-roomed apartment selling of his
ancestral house which was difficult to maintain with the upkeep costs 
being too high for him to afford. He now lived in Beckbagan off Park 
Circus and spent most of his time gallivanting on the streets of 
Calcutta and taking tuitions for a living. The rst of the time, his 
single-room apartment was always full of friends and cigarettes, a few 
bottles of whiskey making forays once in a while. Uddalok lived a life 
of a bohemian, which his friends often told him, reminded them of the 
stories that they had heard of the Calcutta of the Sixties and early 
Seventies. 

Uddalok merely laughed. "If I had been born a century ago, I would have
still been the same, " he said. He still did a lot of reading but his 
handsome features had taken a beating, though the charisma of his youth 
still returned in flashes which earned him admirers even now. 

But he kept off women. 

Today, after meeting Suparna, he suddenly felt lighter, happier. The
mist in his head was clearing; he wanted to do somersaults on the 
streets. The blood pressure, if indeed it was that, was not bothering 
him now. He bought a half bottle of whiskey and went home. He would 
miss his tuitions that evening. 

Dead drunk, around 11 in the evening, he called up Suparna. She picked
up the phone. 

He was slurring. 

" I am drunk. Just because of you...no.no.no.I don't drink, Suparna.
Only today. Just because of you. Only today. I want to see you now. 
Please come to me. I am not drunk. You come. Pleeease. I am feeling so 
lonely. Ten years, I hadn't met you for ten years. I must meet you 
know. Erom koro na, Suparna. Chole esho, please. Do come. Now..." He 
kept on repeating himself. 

Suparna, the little that she knew of drunkenness, disconnected. It was
useless talking to someone who wasn't in his senses. The phone rang 
again. She kept it off the hook. 

She would call to check Uddalok out in the morning. 

Subhajit, who was preparing to turn in, called out. "Who was that?" 

" Wrong number!" Suparna, removed her glasses, wiped them with her
saree, and moved inside the bedroom. She was still a very beautiful 
woman. 

******************************* 

In the morning, it was Uddalok who called. He seemed nervous, ashamed
and embarrassed. " Did I say anything wrong?" he queried. 

" You have said wrong things for fifteen years. How does once more make
any diference?" Suparna found herself laughing like college times. 

" I am sorry. This will never happen again." 

" It's okay. But what happened? Why did you have to drink? You have got
high pressure, you shouldn't drink so much." 

" I don't drink...Yesterday...I don't know what came over me." 

" Beshi phurti hoyechilo. You were on top of the world." Suparana was
still laughing. 

For the first time, Uddalok let out a sound which resembled a laugh.
"Will you come home today? I need to talk to you." 

" Not today, but I will. I will call you before I go." 

" Make it fast. There may not be too much time left." 

" Why? You got a job outside Calcutta?" 

" Nah! Not a job. Esho. Bolbo. I will tell you when you come. But fast,
Suparna, fast. I don't have time left." 

" Don't talk in riddles. Okay, I will come. I will call you anyway." 

Uddalok hung up. 

For a while, Suparna stood beside the phone wondering what Uddalok had
meant by saying he little time left. 

Subhajit called out. " Who's that?" 

" Wrong number!" Suparna replied without hesitation. 

" Jani na baba tomar byaparshyapar. Never quite understood your ways.
This is the first time I have heard someone talk for ten minutes to an 
unknown guy. Was the voice like that of Amitabh Bachchan?' Subhajit 
went back to his newspaper after laughing heartily. 

Suparna joined in, but not with mirth. 

**************************************************** 

It was three weeks later that Suparna found time to go to Uddalok's
place. There were test papers to be examined, Subhajit had been down 
with a strange, unknown fever for almost a week and refused to allow 
her to go work like a child, and, uppermost, Suparna somehow felt a 
trifle uncomfortable going to Uddalok's place. She did not know why 
though she asked herself this question many times over. At least on one 
occasion, she had even prepared to go to Uddalok's place, then 
rejecting the idea at the moment because she felt uncomfortable at the 
last minute. 

She had not mentioned meeting Uddalok to Subhajit. Again, why, didn't
have an answer to. They could have both gone but no, she wanted to go 
alone. She did not hide this from herself. She wanted to meet Uddalok 
alone. 

In the meantime, Uddalok had not called even once, wounding Suparna's
pride perhaps. 

But that morning, she called Uddalok and said that she would be there in
the evening. Subhajit's fever had gone and he was attending college, 
she had finished correcting her exam papers and that morning, she 
decided to go. This was being rude to an old friend, she told herself. 

Uddalok sounded mellow. "Come, I will be home," he said. 

****************************** 

"Then die!" Suparna had blazed out of the room. She was in a daze, her
head swirling as she thought of what had happened, at Uddalok's devious 
audacity and finally, because of her own gullibility. Obviously, the 
man hadn't changed one bit and was only using his disease to get 
something which he had always desired but never got. And never would, 
Suparna gritted her teeth as she got into her car. 

She drove back home only to find Subhajit lying on the bed. This was not
the time that her husband was usually home. But Uddalok had driven out 
common sense from her head for some time now and she dropped herself 
into the nearest sofa, her thoughts going back to Uddalok's request: " 
Just ekbar, Suparna. Just once." She stood up, unmindful of her husband 
who was lying with a pillow on his face, covering his eyes from the 
lights as it were, and stormed into the bathroom. 

As she stood naked before the full-length mirror, Suparna looked at
herself. She was 5 foot 4 inches tall, very tall by Indian standards, 
and her face still retained some of the innocence of the years gone by. 
Her nose was somewhat of an aberration in an otherwise well-etched 
lovely face, it seemed to curl upwards at the end giving her a snooty 
look which put off many people who had not had the privilege of knowing 
her well enough. She was dark, her breasts were still ample with large 
nipples, slightly sloping on either sides, the effect of both age as 
well as natural gravity. She had a small belly, the navel placed 
slightly higher than is usual in most females and her vaginal hair 
resembled almost a small bush. 

Subhajit continuously teased her about that. "Junglee! " he told her
whenever they made love. "You must have come straight from the 
jungles...I wonder where all that hair comes from. Shala, ekta choto 
jungle . A small jungle you have there..." In return, Suparna would 
bite him hard in his underbelly, just above his genitals and he would 
scream in pain. 

Their love-making was always noisy. Suparna sometimes thanked God that
she was childless. 

Suparna again measured herself in the mirror. She had a good enough
figure to match even 30-year-olds now and she stifled a proud laugh 
when she thought how her previous principal had praised her publicly in 
the staff room, which had the other women colleagues squirming, and 
Suparna smiling. 

Suparna realised, even as she continued to look at herself in the
mirror, that she still looked every inch a very proud woman. 

That pride had been badly bruised today. 

Suparna let the shower take over. She needed to cool down. 

************************************* 

In the night, Suparna tossed and turned while Subhajit slept soundly. He
had had a terrible headache and Suparna had given him some sleeping 
tablets. He was snoring. 

As the night progressed, Suparna realised she would not get any sleep.
Uddalok came revisiting her everytime she tought that she had fallen 
asleep. Finally, at the crack of dawn, she did fall asleep. When she 
woke up a couple of hours later with a heavy head and swollen eyes, she 
remembered that she had had a dream. In the dream, she had gone back to 
school and they, school friends all, had gone together for a film. The 
film was Anand, in which Rajesh Khanna played a cancer patient. The 
film had not left a single eye dry after every screening throughout 
India . That was way back when she was in senior school. Suparna 
wondered why she had suddenly dreamt of Anand. 

The answer didn't take long to find out. 

The phone rang. It was Uddalok. 

" Rege acho? Angry?" Uddalok sounded meek and apologetic. 

Suparna disconnected. 

The phone rang again. This time, persistently. Suparna moved around the
room trying to ignore the monotonous drone of the phone and finally 
found herself saying, "Hello?" 

" Mam, this is Cutts, the butcher..." Uddalok was laughing feebly. 

Suparna couldn't help but smile as she remembered how they used to tease
her in college when she read Tintin comic books in the common room. 
Uddalok, whenever he saw her reading Tintin, used to act it out 
perfectly, as if phone in hand, and say grimly, "Mam, this is Cutts the 
butcher." The entire common room would burst into laughter and Suparna 
had to tuck away Tintin for home. There was such innocent fun those 
days. 

The way he had said it now, it seemed like college had been yesterday.
However, she couldn't get over what he had also told her the other day. 


"Uddalok, don't call me ever again." He voice was tough and stern. 

"Why did you take the call then?" Did she discern a mocking tone in his
voice? No, she assured herself, he was in no state to do that now. 

"You would have kept on calling. And that is disturbing." 

"No, Suparna. You took the call because you wanted to talk to me. Be
honest to yourself." 

Suparna banged down the phone. She felt let down by herself. 

****************************** 

A month passed and life had returned to its own boring normalcy.
College, home, college. Uddalok returned at times in her thoughts but 
she brushed them away. Subhajit was having bouts of migraine and the 
doctor had advised him to get his eyes checked. Suparana had forced him 
to go to a homeopath and Subhajit reluctantly took the pills though 
they did not seem to help much. After some time, Suparna noticed that 
Subhajit had dropped the pills. Even his eyes were okay, there was no 
need to wear glasses. It was a migraine which, as everybody knew, had 
no cure. You had to bear it. Subhajit did precisely that though late 
into the nights, he would sometimes wake up Suparna and plead, " 
Suparna, aar parchi na. It's killing me. Will you massage the forehead 
for some time?" 

Suparna did that without as much as him asking a second time and kept
him on a diet of sleeping tablets every night. She had gone to the 
doctor herself. The medicine man had prescribed a small dosage of 
diazepam, which could do no damage. 

Uddalok was far from her thoughts. 

One day, on a bright summer afternoon, the phone rang. It was Suman, a
college friend with whom she was in touch even though not too 
frequently.She was surprised. " What's happened? Tui, hotath? Anything 
wrong?" she asked. 

Suman was now working as a software consultant and had a huge clientele.
He was not the sort to waste time. 

" Porna, Uddalok is dying. He refused hospital admission and things went
out of hand. I have a request. In the state that he is...it's 
terrible...he has asked me to tell you that his last wish would be to 
see you once. Just once. Na bolish na, Suparna. Don't say no. That man 
is dying. After all, he was a friend at one time. And he loved you 
genuinely. Ja, ekbar ja. Meet him. It can't do you any harm." Suman was 
pleading. 

Suparna heard him out and then tried to understand whether Suman knew
what Uddalok had proposed to her during their last meeting. The tone in 
Suman's voice did not reveal much. It seemed an honest request to a 
friend from another. Suparna decided to keep quiet. 

" Okay, let me see." 

" Please. It could even be a couple of days away. Taratari jash, Porna.
Visit him as early as you can." Suman disconnected. 

Suparna thought for a while the dialed Uddalok's number. There was no
harm in calling him anyway. The phone went on ringing. She 
disconnected, tried again. The phone kept away droning. 

Suparna felt drained. She could feel small beads of sweat running across
her cheek. What had happened? Had they forcibly taken him to a 
hospital? Wasn't he in any shape to take calls? Or, was he...was 
he...already dead? 

Suparna changed fast. She drove like a woman possessed. After a long
time, she confided in herself. Yes, she was in love with Uddalok too. 
She was not prepared to see him die. 

*********************************************************** Uddalok was
dressed to kill. As Suparna breezed into the room, she was shaken and 
somewhat stunned by what she saw. The cancer patient who the world knew 
would be dead in some time was looking fresh and smart. He had not 
shaved for some time now, but the radiance in his face was back. 
Uddalok was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a newspaper in his hands. 
He had just had a bath and was wearing a bright, blazing red shirt and 
spotlessly white pajamas. 

He was smoking. 

Suparna was shocked. 

" Eki? You smoking? Suman called...he said things were bad...I rushed...
Byaparta ki? You don't look sick..." She was taking deep breaths as she 
dropped herself on the bed beside Uddalok. 

He let her get back her breath. She was looking at him with amazement. 

" Tell me, Uddalok...What is the matter? Why did Suman call?" 

" I asked him to." 

"Why?" 

" Because I am dying. Suparna, I am trying to make the most of my last
days. The doctor has asked me not to smoke. I have not listened to him. 
What's the point in dying like all the others? I will, if I can, drink 
life to the lees till I am no more. The pain is taken care of by heavy 
dosage injections, I sleep most of the time, but today I had a gut 
feeling you would come...I dressed up, wore this shirt...I know you 
like red...and took out the pajamas from the cupboard after many 
months. And this is the second cigarette that I am having. I was 
getting impatient. Thank God, you came..." He coughed a little and 
seemed to give in to the energy he had just spent talking. The cough 
continued; suddenly, Uddalok reeled and fell on the bed, his head 
hitting the pillow, only just about avoiding a sharp blow against the 
bed rest. 

He lay on his stomach and let out hiccups which seemed to Suparna as far
cries from another world, the wrenching sounds indicating a pain which 
nobody but the sufferer understands. The pain of cancer. 

Suparna came closer to Uddalok. " Koshto hocche? Is the pain unbearable?
Want some water? Any medicines...painkillers? Shall I call the doctor?" 


Uddalok turned towards her and locked her hands in both his palms. " Ki
labh ? What's the point? I am now used to it. Don't worry, I will be 
okay. Just pass me that capsule on the table, please." 

Suparna rushed to the table, poured some water from the jug to a tumbler
and handed over the medicine to him. Uddalok finished the entire glass 
of water with the capsule. 

" Offff!" He looked above at the ceiling. " Ar kotodin? How many more
days, my lord? I can't take this any longer." Then he looked at 
Suparna. 

"Will you help me to the bathroom?" 

" Sure...Esho." He caught hold of her. He felt her softness against him
and his muscles tightened. She moved him towards the bathroom. She 
found it strange that a man who was in the terminal stages of cancer 
could have muscles like steel. 

"Hormones, must be" she assured herself, without the slightest inkling
of what hormones meant. She had simply heard that hormones were 
prescribed for terminally ill patients. 

************************************* 

Uddalok came out of the bathroom, looking better, having splashed his
face with cold water. 

" Feeling better?" Suparna asked. 

" Hmmm. Slightly. I would like to get some sleep. Ektu amar pashe bosho
. Please sit beside me." 

"Of course, I will. You try and get some sleep first." 

Uddalok lay straight on the bed, his face wracked by pain which he tried
not to show. 

Suparna sat beside him. He closed his eyes, took her hands, and kissed
them. She did not object. He would fall asleep anyway, she thought. 

" Ghoom ashche na, Suparna. I can't sleep." As he broke the silence
suddenly, Suparna took her hands away, keeping them folded on her lap. 

" Can I put my head on your lap, Suparna? Please...??" 

For a few moments, she kept quiet. Then she looked at his face. She
could see a prayer there. 

She didn't think for a moment and moved towards him, taking his head on
his lap. 

As the minutes passed, and silence took over, she did not make any
attempt to resist. His hands went all over her, his tongue entered her 
mouth as if searching for life itself, and as he undressed, Suparna 
could see his muscles ripple. 

They made love. As she removed her saree, she thought of her husband for
a fleeting moment. For the next half an hour, it was only Uddalok, 
Uddalok and more of Uddalok. 

She did not feel guilty; she had just given in to a prayer. 

As she wore her saree, she suddenly thought that she had traced a faint
flavour of imported perfume in Uddalok's armpits. 

Uddalok came out of the bathroom after a wash. 

" Suparna," he had a smile as he lit up again. He had brushed his hair
too. And now the perfume was all over in the room. 

" Don't smoke again," she shrieked. 

" Why shouldn't I smoke?" 

"Don't be silly...you know why!" There was reprimand in her voice. 

There was mockery in Uddalok's. " It's you who has been downright silly.
I expected you to be cleverer, Mrs Suparna Ganguly. Every pride comes 
before a fall... mone achey?.. Remember, how you spurned me? Remember 
how you used to insult me when all the other girls were falling at my 
feet. That day, the day you walked away with Subhajit, I promised 
myself that I would not allow you to go unscathed. Silly woman, you 
were too proud for your own good." 

Then, without mincing words, he said roughly. "Remember what a good
actor I was in college? That finally has come to use, darling." Suparna 
was too stunned to react. She felt the room go round and round. A 
searing pain ripped through her heart. What was this man saying? 

"I did not ever have cancer, Mrs Ganguly. With your best wishes, I will
live a hundred years. And now, you may go back to your loving husband. 
By the way, please call Suman and thank him for me...I asked him to 
make that call. A good friend...that Suman...never lets me down." 

Uddalok had not yet finished. "You enjoyed it too, didn't you? " 

He lit up another cigarette. Uddalok had always been a chain smoker.
"Where's the bloody bottle? I need to celebrate. This one has been the 
best in a long time," were the last mocking words she heard before she 
left the room in a daze. 

****************************** 

Suparna went completely blank. The charade, the cheating, the diabolical
drama to which she had been drawn like a small bird crashing into the 
windscreen of a high-flying airplane had left her sapped of energy, 
intelligence and confidence. Worse, she had not anticipated such evil. 

She entered the sitting room, her hair tousled, her saree crumpled, her
face a picture of desolation. The pain crept from her chest to the 
head. This was not a headache borne of migraine, this was simple 
helplessness casting its shadow on her body. The heart had given way, 
it was now time for the body to slip on soft ground. 

Subhajit was sitting on the sofa, his head cradled in his two palms, a
sheaf of papers lying in front of him. He looked up at Suparna. 

" Edike esho. Come here," Subhajit seemed to whisper. There was no
strength in his voice. 

Suparna walked as if in a trance towards him. 

" Look at this. Three months. That's what they have given me," his voice
lapsed into a child-like whimpering cry. 

Suparna did not even look at the papers he had handed her. She only
mumbled, " Ki? What's it?" 

Subhajit almost slumped in the sofa. "I kept it away from you all these
days. I thought that everything would be okay. It's not. Dr Sanyal gave 
his final report to me today. I have three months to live." 

Every word bounced off Suparna. 

" Suparna, I have brain cancer." 

Strangely, Suparna sat rooted to her sofa. After what seemed like
decades to Subhajit, she spoke: " Tumio? You too?" 

Then she stood up, walked straight to her husband and slapped him across
the face, a stinging one which made his cheek bleed from the impact of 
her engagement ring made of gold. 

Subhajit, weak and in despair, fell down on the ground. She didn't even
look at him. 

Without a word, she strode back to the sofa where she had earlier been
sitting. She loosened her hair, threw her head back over the backrest, 
and then Suparna Ganguly started laughing, a coarse and heavy laughter 
which was not normal. 

Her laughter did not stop for the next ten minutes. The she walked up to
her husband. 

"You too? Cancer, cancer..." she whispered in Subhajit's ears. 

The whisper grew into a groan and then she lurched forward, fell in a
heap across her husband, grasping her chest in a last-ditch attempt to 
gain air. Her face had the contortions of a stricken, painful death. 

Suparna Ganguly had died of a massive heart attack. 

Cancer had killed. 

THE END 


   


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
abhijit dasgupta has 2 active stories on this site.
Profile for abhijit dasgupta, incl. all stories
Email: abdasgupta1@gmail.com

stories in "drama"   |   all stories by "abhijit dasgupta"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy