The Old Lady In The Tumbledown Mansion

Vijay was on his way home from school on a hot, bright and sunny day in the month of June (precisely the 23rd of June). He was late in emerging from the school that day as there was a Science projects exhibition the following week and he was working for it with his friends. His home was a short distance from the school by the main road but he was always advised to take the longer route, through several alleys. At the far end of one of these alleys was an old tumbledown mansion that he used to notice everyday while going to school and coming back but he had never quite gone close to the building. That day, he was in a particularly good mood and, having seen a Bengali film on a similar tumbledown mansion known as 'Ballabhpurer Roopkotha' directed by Mr. Anirban Bhattacharya, he decided to go and visit it. Just as he was in front of the building, a third of which had collapsed, he heard thunder. The first rains of the year was coming. Even so, he did not feel afraid and went inside the portion of the house, still standing. It was clear that the part that had broken was once the grand entrance and balcony of the three-storied house. He came to a courtyard with weeds and wild plants growing in it and in the cracks of walls around.

He was just wondering the fact that it was impossible for anyone to live there when he heard an old woman call out to him, 'O Khoka! Tomar nam ki?' ('Boy! What is your name?') which made him start. The old woman was short and bent, with a fair complexion and a mole on the right cheek, dressed in a white sari. Vijay introduced himself and asked the same question to the lady in addition to asking whether she lived in that house. She replied in the affirmative saying that she was born and brought up in that house. Her name was Khuntimoni. She that saw the sky was overcast and asked the boy to come into the house from the courtyard. Vijay entered a dark room that was probably the farthest room from the broken part, and therefore, fairly safe. Khuntimoni lit an oil lamp and placed it on a table. The room had an intricately carved Lazarus bed, an antique piece that was falling to pieces due to years of use and covered in a layer of dust. The paint on the wall had long gone and the rafters on the ceiling were rusted, an old handfan was hanging from the ceiling. There was once a lantern hanging from it but now having only a hook braring testimony to this fact. There was once a magnificently carved wooded almirah in a corner, now reduced to a few rotten pieces of wood. Rats ran helter-skelter somewhere nearby as the raindrops started to fall with thunder and lightning lighting up the room. Khuntimoni, standing with her back towards the lamp was illuminated by the lightning, and she was smiling an eerie smile which made Vijay nervous. She began to speak in Bengali:

"This house was built in 1857, on this very day by Karna Chandra. He was no zamindar, but a businessman trading indigo with the Company. This house, which was once very grand, has three portions—the facade which is now in ruins, this portion which forms the back of the house and the sides connecting this portion to the front, part of which was used for keeping indigo. He was very oppressive on the poor villagers, just like the British and very few people liked him. However, he made a lot of money and his son Kanti Chandra, grandson Karun Chandra and great-grandson Krishna Chandra were able to continue the business. When indigo cultivation was stopped, Krishna Chandra changed to cotton but there was so much competition in cotton businesses that, under his son (my father—Khuri Chandra) the business started to deplete and we fell into bankruptcy. I was born in such a situation—the only child of a declining family—in 1947. In the my growing years, we had accumulated much debt and my parents began selling off many valuable things. Then, in 1967, my father died and with that, any hopes of any kind of miracle, also died. I was married of a couple of years later, my husband who was a supporter of the Mukti Bahini died not long after, in the 1971 War. I returned to this house and set up a small business on my own. I managed to make a living for myself and my mother and we continued to live in this house which had already started to decay. The facade collapsed 25 years ago and thankfully the other portions are still livable. I will continue to live in this house as long as I live but I am lonely here. Khoka, Will you please come and see me from time to time when returning from school?"

Khoka said that he certainly would come to visit her to deprive her of her loneliness. The sky had cleared by now and the rain had stopped, so he took his leave and started for his home. 

The next day, he was up earlier than usual and on his way to school on the usual route. On the way, he decided to pay Khuntimoni a visit and give her a box of sweets. As he was nearing the house, and about to enter, a man called out to him, "Boy! What are you doing there?" He replied that he wished to meet Khuntimoni whom he had met the previous day. The man's eyeballs almost popped out. He said that there was no one living in that house for 25 years. There was a lonely old lady called Khuntimoni but on 23rd of June, 1997, that is 25 years ago, I think, as she was watching the first rains of the year from her balcony, in front of the house, the facade collapsed as you can see, and the old lady died. How could you have seen her now?"

Vijay was speechless but he managed to keep the box of sweets in a crack of the wall and went to school. He was extremely disoriented all day and did not know what to say or think of Khuntimoni, the old lady living in the tumbledown mansion.