Kamal Ghorui
‘Darkness can rob the glory of a diamond, we are just humans….’
How I wanted that evening to pass quickly!
Even after so many soulful conversations we shared, I felt anxious visiting Mrs. Kapoor’s house. I took a floral silk scarf for her as a gesture of courtesy. I knew she loved dressing up.
I took a deep breath to tame my racing heart and rang the bell at the gate.
Mr. Kapoor welcomed me with a smile. He was a dignified man, quite handsome of his age. He escorted me to the living room.
“Ahh! These hinges need some oiling,” irritated with the creak, he opened the netted door and ushered me in. A modest chandelier filled the space with dim yellow light.
Mrs. Kapoor came to greet me for a brief moment and returned to the kitchen to finish her preparations. Meanwhile, to avoid an awkward silence, Mr. Kapoor talked about his passion for gardening and how Rustam (their German Shepherd) loved to go out for the evening walks with them.
My smile was measured, but my eyes wandered everywhere. There were several awards placed on a wooden console presented to some Devraj Kanungo by the top MNCs around the world. I had no clue who this person could be!
In one corner of the room, a bookshelf was lined with classical literature by Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, Rabindranath Tagore and many more.
And then, I saw a memorial photo hanging on the wall. He was a gentleman wearing spectacles: Late. Mr. J.C. Kapoor, ‘Advocate, High Court’. Also, there was another photo of lady with a sharp nose and curly hair: Late. Mrs. Suman Kapoor. She had a striking resemblance with Mrs. Kapoor.
Finally Mrs. Kapoor came into the room with wafers, sandwiches, beaten coffee and roasted almonds.
“Hope you like it,” I said as I presented her the scarf.
What she said next was etched in my memory forever, “It doesn’t matter how simple a gift is, what counts is that you must have thought about me while picking it. And that is everything.” I was swayed by the depth of her words.
I savoured every sip of the coffee and each bite of the sandwich prepared with much love and warmth.
“Dev, Rustam is getting restless,” Mrs. Kapoor said to her husband as their dog was continuously barking from the porch.
Quite a disbelief crossed my face! The man whom I had always thought to be ‘Mr. Kapoor’ was actually Devraj Kanungo!
Those awards placed on the console belonged to him. And the ‘Advocate’ inscribed on the nameplate outside their bungalow was Mrs. Kapoor’s father!
It was time to call it an evening, just then Mrs. Kapoor picked a book, ‘The greatest short stories of the world’ from her bookshelf and gave it to me.
Just as she had said, she thought about me too! I loved to read.
Throughout my time at their house, I desperately looked around to find something about their children, but there were no signs of them anywhere. Also, not even once in these three years Mrs. Kapoor had ever mentioned anything about children.
The beautiful old style decor and that busyness were just a compensation for her solitude. Those moments of getting lost in thoughts were not due to old age, they were rather the pangs of loneliness stemming from her womb! Her empty nest was filled with sadness.
I thanked the couple for the wonderful evening and headed back home with unexpected revelations.
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