Swamiji ‘s girlfriend

Sukanta Rakshit
Sep 7, 2018 · 7 min read

Swamiji had just finished his discourse. The audience folded their hands as Swami Muktanand closed his eyes took a deep breath and prayed; the hymns reverberating in the hall and a general serenity of peace and harmony pervaded all around. It all ended in a few minutes. Swamiji rose. He was an elderly man round and thick set with a glowing and smiling face. His eyes shone out of the dark rimmed glasses; and he wore a saffron turban along with saffron robes and wooden sandals. He was probably well over seventy but looked much younger and had a calmness and aura about him acquired over a long period of peaceful existence.The radiance he generated said it all. The Ramakrishna mission at Guwahati on the banks of the imposing Brahmaputra , was Swamiji’s abode for the last several years. And he was now the incharge of the mission. Like every day he did the evening discourse with an audience of devotees, regulars and visitors. Today however,amongst the visitors was the cine super star of Bengali cinema the evergreen Minoti Dey. Many heads in the audience turned to have a glimpse of her. She, the sensational beauty of yester years ,now however showing her age on the other side of sixty, in a cream hand crafted saree and a long blouse was all ears to the Swamiji’s discourse. She had planned to sit for a few minutes but went on without blinking an eyelid through the entire programme. Her secretaries and others thought madam was in a trance and did not want to disturb her.

As Swamiji left the hall for his chambers Minoti came hustling towards him, “Bikashda, Bikashda”, she repeated. Swamiji turned around. For a moment they looked intently at each other. Nothing was said for a long long time. “Bikashda me Minu. Your Minu. Can’t you recognise me” she rambled. “I have been searching you for so many years. Where. What happened. You are my Bikashda know”, she continued with blank eyes staring at Swamiji as if she had seen a ghost much to the bewilderment of her staff who stood by. Then suddenly she fell on her knees and held Swamiji’s feet. “You must forgive me. God’s been very kind; I have been able to meet you to ask for your forgiveness. Tell me please tell me you have forgiven me.”, she pleaded .”Otherwise I will not be able to die in peace” she ranted. Her entourage were amazed, they could not imagine their madam the great superstar at the feet of a monk. Swamiji was calm and silent, if there were any emotional upheavals in his mind it did not show; he picked Minoti by her arms smiled and said,” I am too small a man to forgive anybody. Be at peace. Whatever happens, happens for good” he said.” But you are my Bikashda. Tell me you are Bikash Bannerjee,” she continued in a dramatic fashion.He smiled once again. With his arms folded on his chest he quietly told her “ Go and rest. You are perturbed. If you will excuse me I have some other matters to attend” and slowly walked back towards his chambers. Minoti now with tears in her eyes looked at him in complete amazement.

Swami Muktanand went to his quarters, a sparsely furnished room, sat down on the chair, took off his turban revealing a clean shaved well shaped head,and looked out of the window. It was dark and cloudy, the moon in a perpetual hide and seek with the clouds and a soft river breeze greeted him. After a while he could hear the twelve year old Minu yelling at him” Bikashda, Bikashda give it back”. As he kept running with both the kites. He could also hear her full throated laughter, when he fell from that coconut tree right into the pond below. Or see her clapping to tease him when he fell into the pond on another occasion in his attempts to retrieve the fish he had caught. Minoti and Bikash were brought up at Chandannagar a small semi urban hamlet those days,about sixty miles from Kolkata on the banks of the majestic river Hooghly. Encompassing the natural beauty of rural Bengal, it had its fair share of small ponds surrounded by tall coconut trees, with large thick mango groves, the betel, jack fruit, and banana trees spread over large expanse of fertile land. Minoti and Bikash grew amongst this natural pastoral settings, spending time together in catching butterflies in the small woods, running after squirrels, stealing mangoes and Guava and catching fish with his fishing rod while she stood by his arm. They quarrelled often, teased each other sometimes yet were the best of friends. Childhood gave way to adolescence and their fondness for each other grew over time. She was turning out to be a pretty little thing, doe eyed ,which were not only large but also very expressive, along with a prominent nose and full lips, a small forehead which looked smaller as her thick black hair seemed to have begun from her forehead. She was slowly and surely growing into an attractive woman in all her bloom. Bikash on the other hand was a tall and lanky fellow with sharp brooding eyes and had a knot on his forehead most of the time. He spoke little, but had a keen sense of humour and Minoti could not stop laughing loudly when Bikash in his typical style would crack a joke with a serious face. Both of them together, he walking his bicycle, she walking besides on those lawns besides the Hooghly, were a pleasing sight. And one day under that thick tall tree on the river bank they kissed passionately as the Sun set across the river.

Days passed, things change. Bikash completed his graduation and went on to work as an English teacher at a school at Howrah on a meagre salary. Minoti was in the final year of her graduation at the local college and turning twenty one , when her father fixed her marriage with Kunal, a small time shopkeeper at Howrah now well over thirty. Protests and tears and hunger strikes and harsh words notwithstanding,Minoti’s father was bent upon going through with the alliance. Bikash was devastated and toyed with various ideas including elopement, to which Minoti refused and finally approached her father who shut his door firmly on him and ridiculed him for his small job and salary . On an auspicious December day Minoti was married off to the thin and frail Kunal with sunken cheeks and almost twelve years elder to her.

Bikash saw her again in the Bus at Howrah two years later. She was seated in the corner seat earmarked for ladies. Fortunately the Bus was a little less crowded than usual, and Bikash could stand next to her “ Hello, what a pleasant surprise”, he said. “ Bikashda, you here how” she said surprised. They smiled. They decided to get down at the next stop and then walked over to small roadside restaurant and ordered for tea. “So how are you” both of them asked almost together after they had settled down. They laughed. It was after a long long time for both. Minoti told him about her alcoholic husband, who drank more than he ate, thereby suffering from various ailments as also financial misery forcing her to take up a small time job in an Ad Agency in Kolkata. “Oh I see. I am sorry” he said. “ I should have run away with you”, she said suddenly. “ What about you. Are you married?” she asked. “ Not as yet. Can’t find a girl,” he remarked and smiled. The lost chemistry was rearing it’s head.

They met regularly. She would talk about her office and about Kunal’s ailments and treatments. He would quietly listen and advice. He was happy with the opportunity of being with her in whatever fractured manner that destiny had chosen. Then one day she told him about a particular gentleman she had met at work who thought she had the looks and style to make it in the world of modelling. But she needed to make a portfolio which was an expensive proposition. “I wish I could do it. It can change my life” she told Bikash. Bikash readily agreed to meet the cost. “ If something can change your life, can make you happy I am there with you” he said. Thus it began. Bikash begged borrowed and stole to finance Minoti’s dream to change her life. Her ambition became his dream. But his small earnings and big dreams were at loggerheads forcing him to indulge in illegal activities to meet the demands of his lost love. He stole from his father, borrowed from cousins and even went to the extent of forging his friends signatures to fraudulently withdraw money from a bank.

Meanwhile Minoti made her way into the world of advertising and small films. Her looks and determination to make it while Bikash looked after the costs, soon made her a force to reckon with in the industry. On expected lines one day she was molested inside her make up room by a film producer and she came running to Bikash who was waiting outside and narrated her story. Bikash did not pause to think. He picked up a thick stick went right inside,brushed off the guard and beat the producer black and blue. The police were called in.

By this time a case of forgery against him was also launched . He was arrested and locked up. On that Monday morning in the court,a day which Bikash could never forget, Minoti when asked by the prosecutor to describe what happened said “ The accused got into an argument with the producer and beat him up without any provocation “. Bikash looked at her. He was sent to jail for seven years.

Years passed by. Minoti was a star. Her husband died. Bikash waited patiently and served his time in prison. He was withdrawn and kept to himself quietly. From the jail one day he along with fellow inmates were taken to Belur Math the seat of the Ramakrishna mission where he listened attentively to the Swami. It made a lasting impression on him. And on completion of his term went to Belur and under the tutelage of a renowned Swami began his long and arduous journey towards salvation and atonement of his sins. He soon became a Swami with a past.

The long night was giving way to the hope of dawn as Swami Muktanand, got up from his chair next to the window. It’s been a long night he thought. He walked out of his quarters to the verandah to welcome the first rays of the morning. The radiance on his face stood out as the first rays of the morning touched him.

    Sukanta Rakshit

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