My Kind of Girl by Buddhadeva Bose Page B

Although I was only a doctor, and far from well-versed in literary and related matters, several members of this glittering group had accepted me warmly. Of all of them, it was Bina I knew the least; we hadn’t gotten beyond the tight confines of a formal relationship. I’d observed in her something of an antipathy for me. Maybe she didn’t care for the way I looked, or perhaps she was aware that Ramen had told me everything about her – whatever the reason, she seemed to avoid my company. I didnot mind this, for it was hard for me to fathom how to talk to, how to conduct myself with, a love-struck, love-singed young woman. This distance was far better.
    In April, the Duttas went off to Kalimpong. I paid a visit the day they were leaving, and no one else was present except them, for a change. After some casual conversation, Mrs. Dutta announced, “Some news for you, your patient has recovered completely.”
    Wonderful news, I thought to myself, but why tell me? My relationship with them was ending.
    As though she had read my mind, Mrs. Dutta said quietly, “You know the whole story, after all, so I thought I’d let you know.”
    After a pause, I responded, “I do feel Ramen didn’t do the right thing, in refusing to marry her.”
    â€œHe has given his word to someone else, there’s no changing that.”
    â€œGiven his word? Rubbish. In truth, he doesn’t want to get married.”
    â€œWell, you can’t force a person to go against his will either. I explained to Bina, ‘You can’t have him, then why behave this way? Don’t you have any self-respect? It’s always the man who begs and pleads with the woman, and you, being the woman . . .’”
    Mr. Dutta quipped, “Everything has been turned upside down these days, it’s the women who do the pursuing and the men who do the running now. Poor Ramen. He wasn’t in a position to be envied.”
    Mrs. Dutta said, “Well, it was Ramen who managed to get things under control. I have to commend him, considering how taken shewas, there would have been no escape for her had he been even remotely wicked.”
    After heaping some more praises on Ramen, Mrs. Dutta said, “Now Bina says fine, let Ramen not marry her, but she’s not going to marry anyone else either, not in her entire life. But we’re going to be planning for her marriage soon. For now we’re leaving her with my elder sister – you’ve met her, she was in charge of women’s costumes for the play, and my mother’s going to be visiting next month. She too will be relieved once the last of the brood is married off. Will you keep your eye open for a suitable boy?”
    I nodded in consent, but her words seemed heartless. Bina had barely survived a major crisis – and to talk of marriage again so soon afterward! Maybe what she had said was not entirely true, surely she wouldn’t stay unmarried all her life, but it couldn’t be easy for her to forget Ramen so easily. Not everyone could brush things away as easily as Ramen could!
    Mrs. Dutta said, “My sister’s house is on Southern Avenue, it would be lovely if you could visit them sometimes! They’d be delighted. And Bina’s health, too – I’d really like it if she could live according to a doctor’s regime for some time . . .”
    â€œCertainly,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”
    And thus began my visits to Southern Avenue. One or two people from the cast of The New Nest used to visit too, but most did not – the Duttas’ home had been the destination of their pilgrimage; as soon as the Duttas left, the gathering broke up. And even if one ran into the others now and then, there was neither hide nor hair of Ramen – heseemed to have been waiting for just such an opportunity; when the Duttas disappeared, so did he.
    I put Bina through a round of calcium injections, prescribed