Free The Onus of Ancestry by Arpita Mogford Page B

few colleagues and criminals faint in court watching beautiful Dwita Roy Chowdhury, please,” he carried on, with an imposed lightness in his voice.
    â€œWhy should they?” Dwita said irritably. “If you have not fainted all these years–”
    â€œHave I not?”
    â€œNot that I have noticed.”
    â€œUnfortunately, you seem to notice very little.” He gazed into her eyes warmly and meaningfully.
    â€œPlease, Barun, no – not yet anyway, give me time. We have been very good friends, let us keep it that way. We must not think of other ends for this wonderful relationship – it means a great deal to me. We both have a long way to go, a lot to do, places to see, people to meet.”
    â€œBut can we not do this together? Why must it be important for you to keep our journeys separate, our goals different? I too value our present relationship, but I have never thought of you as just a special friend.”
    â€œDon’t say ‘just a special friend’ so lightly.”
    â€œI see the iceberg refuses to melt –”
    â€œDon’t be sarcastic, Barun. Friendship like ours is not to be taken so lightly. There is a certain commitment in it, you cannot dismiss it with sarcasm.”
    â€œAll right, Dwita – I accept your decision for the time being. But Barun Mitra does not give up so easily.” She remembered what Chandni had said once about him.
    Although they parted amicably and Barun had been entirely civilised about it, evidently he had found it difficult to swallow defeat. He had returned to the proposal some time later. She had smiled, shaken her head and sent him away without making any promises. He paraded his friendships with other girls seeking to make her jealous; she kept quiet or, when provoked, complimented him on his choice. He then threatened to stop seeing her. This hurt her enormously as Barun was indispensable to her lonely existence, but she was too proud to show it. She had merely said, “It is your choice, Barun, but my feelings for you will remain the same, come back when you like.”
    In the end Barun relented. “All right, Dwita, you win. But I shall keep hoping, maybe one day, when you have grown up.”
    â€œYes, when I am sixty.” They had both laughed at the prospect and Barun knew that only time would tell.
    However Barun made up his mind to leave Calcutta and accepted a place at Harvard to read Economics. He went soon afterwards; his father could afford to send him at short notice. He was a wealthy businessman, who had made his money in scrap. He was in a hurry for Barun to get on with his academic pursuits so that he could put him into the harness of the family business in due course.
    Dwita and Barun parted with promises to keep in touch, to write to each other frequently and to meet up perhaps at some point – Barun was more optimistic with the hopes of Harvard ahead of him, but Dwita knew that Barun’s absence would be hard to bear – he had left a gap in her life. She carried on with her post-graduate studies with public service as a future objective.
    However, Parna, as expected turned down out of hand her choice of a career in that field. “You cannot possibly opt for home or foreign service – working and living alone all your life is absurd, unthinkable!” She was visibly agitated.
    â€œBut mother, you have managed to live alone and before you Dima – what’s wrong with that?”
    â€œEverything – we had to because of our circumstances, not because we wished to or planned it.”
    â€œIs it not better to plan it, than be forced by circumstances?” she had blurted out without thinking of the consequences. Parna went into one of her outbursts.
    â€œYes, it is easy for you to taunt me, and criticise my decision. I accepted my way of life for your sake, to honour my sacred commitment to your father. What have I got in return? Love? Consideration? Nothing