The Thursday Post Critiques 13.3.14

TTPC

“What are you doing?” she asked, as she surrendered herself to bed.

“You wont understand…” he was busy fumbling with the keys of the laptop their son has gifted him.

Well, he was right, she knows nothing of computer, even though her daughter, son both tried to teach her but she preferred experimenting with new recipe of Mochar Ghanta than keyboard.

The doorbell rang, he was in office. She opened the door, a young woman was standing outside, “Is Kingshuk here?” she asked shyly.

“Are you his friend?” she asked.

“Yes auntie.” she bowed down to touch her feet.

“Come inside.” she offered her tea and sat down. “He has been living in Denver with his wife and kids for last five years…”

The girl’s face blanked. “What?”

“Why?” she too got a bit afraid, “Is something wrong?”

The girl lowered her head… “No, yesterday when we were chatting he told me that it was raining outside… and he was in Kolkata.”

“At what time?” She asked. She quite remembered the pouring rain when she retired to bed.

“Since when do you know Kingshuk?” she asked.

“Two years…” the girl answered. “He told me that he lives in Kolkata with his mother and works.”

“Did he now?” she was understanding things quite clearly now. “You have fallen in clutches of some imposter…get rid of him.”

The girl nodded and left.

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