Upon reaching the address in Dharmatala, it was revealed that the place where Nirmalendu Mitra lives is an old-fashioned building. The massive house is rented out in sections.
"Are we going to speak with Nirmalendu Mitra?" Akhi asked, straightening her hair after removing her helmet.
"No," Ved-da replied, leaving me somewhat startled. "We are going to speak with Biren Mukherjee."
I should mention here that Biren Mukherjee is the founder of 'Rangamanch.'
Counting the room numbers, we knocked on the door of 21/5. A middle-aged woman opened the door.
"Who do you want?"
"Is Biren Mukherjee in?"
"Come inside."
As we entered, the lady called out in a loud voice, "Are you listening? Some people have come to see you."
A deep, masculine voice resonated from the inner part of the house, "Who has come at this odd hour?"
The owner of the voice entered through the door a second later.
A gentleman of medium height, dark complexion, bald-headed, and sporting a trimmed mustache sat facing us and offered a Namaskar. After glancing at the three of us once, he said, "Tell me, how can I help you?"
Ved-da returned the greeting and said, "I am Vedanta Biswas. And these are my friends, Akhi Dasgupta and Saikat Biswas." Ved-da gestured toward us as he spoke the last words. We offered our greetings. Ved-da continued, "We are coming on behalf of Lalbazar. We need some information regarding someone. Please cooperate with us."
The gentleman seemed a bit unnerved at the mention of the police, but in as natural a voice as possible, he asked, "What information?"
"Nirmalendu Mitra. How long have you known him?"
"It must be about twenty-five years. He first came to this theater at the age of twenty. I, of course, have been here five years longer than him. He is five years younger than me in age."
"How is his nature and character?"
"Non-confrontational, quiet, lives a simple life. His only fault is that he is a bit forgetful."
"What do you know about his past?"
"Not much. I only know that his childhood was spent in a home. He used to stay in Krishnanagar, Nadia. Education..." He paused for a moment and then said, "Ranjan Memorial Higher Secondary School," he added after thinking a bit.
"Have you ever noticed any abnormality?" Akhi asked.
"No."
The lady who had opened the door entered the room with cups of tea in hand.
Biren Babu introduced her, "My missus, Arunima Mukherjee."
She offered a Namaskar and went back inside. Taking a sip of the tea, Ved-da resumed the question-and-answer session. "We have information that lately, he has been losing his notebook frequently. Can you shed some light on when this has been happening?"
Biren Babu was not at all prepared for such a question. After staring blankly for a while, he said, "It would be about a week. Within this time, he has lost the notebook twice."
"Can you give the exact date?"
"Well," he said, thinking for a moment, "ever since that school teacher harassed him on the train, I can't remember the day..."
Hearing the gentleman's words, Ved-da suddenly sat up straight. Bringing his hands together near his chin, he said, "One second, what did you just say? An insult? Clear that backstory."
"The incident happened while returning on the Gede local train. For some reason, a small argument broke out between Nirmal and that teacher. The gentleman insulted him quite badly." He paused and then said in an excited voice, "And I remember, the person who was murdered in Baranagar—he was the one who insulted him like that."
Akhi asked, "At that moment, did you notice any reaction or anything else in Nirmalendu Babu that was contrary to his nature?"
The gentleman thought for a while and said, "No. But yes, we were going somewhere. Suddenly, without saying anything to me, Nirmalendu got off at Baranagar station. I met him later, of course, but he arrived on a different train. I didn't get any logical answer when I asked. It was as if he himself wasn't sure about the incident."
Ved-da stood up gravely. We stood up too. After bidding Biren Mukherjee Namaskar and saying, "We will come again if needed," we came out. Biren Babu saw us to the door.
Descending the stairs and starting the bike, Ved-da said in a very casual tone, "It's one-thirty. Come, let's eat something, then home."
Amazing! Here, my stomach is churning from the pressure of the mystery and my head feels empty; yet this gentleman is thinking about food! Truly, Ved-da is something else.
The bike sped onto the main road. On the roadside was a place where idols were being made. The nearly completed, painted Durga idols were drying there. Electric banners lined both sides of the road. Leaving everything behind, our two bikes came to a stop in front of a small hotel.
After ordering food, we sat inside. Akhi asked the first question, "Where next, Vedanta?"
Ved-da replied, "Home for now. Be ready tomorrow, we are going to Nadia."
The food had arrived. After eating, we left for home.
Today's afternoon hangout was at Oishi-di's house. I couldn't focus. The night passed amidst countless thoughts. Sleep came toward dawn. I woke up around 8 o'clock. After freshening up and having tea, I rode my bike to Ved-da's house. Seeing Akhi's Activa in the parking lot, I realized she had arrived before me. Ved-da had already said we would take a bus to the station from here.
When we reached Krishnanagar by the Krishnanagar local, thanks to the West Bengal Railways, it was quite late in the day. Ved-da's informant had managed to gather Nirmalendu Mitra's full address. It was a half-hour journey by bus. Leaving the station, we boarded a bus.
The scenery on both sides could be called pleasant. Through the window, the autumn sky and white kash flowers were visible. Occasionally, fields and tiled houses—the suburban-like place wasn't bad. Pandal construction was also underway in two places by the road. The bus was stopping occasionally to pick up passengers and then resuming its journey. I was on one side of the bus, while Ved-da and Akhi were in the seat in front of me. I asked Ved-da, "Did Nirmalendu Mitra live in his own house?"
"Yes."
"Do people live there?"
"His brother lives there."
After that, there was no more talk. As the bus stopped at our destination, several other people got off with us. Attached to the bus stand was an auto stand. There, auto owners were calling out the names of various places. We took the back seat of an auto. After picking up two more passengers in front, the auto started moving. After traveling for about twenty minutes, the auto stopped near an old school. Getting out of the vehicle and paying the fare, we started walking according to Ved-da's instructions. Going a bit through the lane beside the school, Ved-da checked the address once in front of a grocery store. Following the shop owner's directions, we stopped in front of the house at the very end of the lane.
It was a huge house. An old-style building. The condition of the house suggested that people live here and it is maintained. On a marble plaque on the wall beside the large iron gate was written 'Mitra Villa.' Large knockers hung from the gate. Once upon a time, they were used, but not anymore. Their place had been taken by an electric bell. Upon pressing it, after a while, a thin, young boy came and opened the gate.
"Who do you want?"
"Is Purnendu Mitra in?"
"What is the business?"
Ved-da took out a visiting card from his wallet. The card was from some magazine. Ved-da's name was written on it—Journalist. The card was fake. Ved-da has many such cards. The boy returned after a while with the card in hand. Permission to enter was granted. Crossing the surki-paved path and stepping onto a large veranda, we entered through a door and passed a large circular passage to arrive at a drawing room. In the middle of a huge room, a sofa set was arranged. A healthy man of about forty was sitting on one of them. He was wearing trousers and a T-shirt. Seeing us, he stood up and said, "Welcome, please take your seat." We occupied three of the other empty sofas.
Ved-da spoke first, "Namaskar. I am coming on behalf of a magazine. We are presenting a special article on the current theater artists of Bengal. Your brother Nirmalendu Mitra is one of our main features. We want to know a bit about him."
"Actually, I don't have much of a relationship with my brother. I get news occasionally from the newspapers."
"Anything about his past life?"
"Brother's past? Exactly what do you want to know?" Akhi asked this question: "Why was his entire childhood spent in a home?"
Purnendu Babu seemed to be gathering his thoughts. In the meantime, a slender woman came and served us tea. After requesting us to have the tea, Purnendu Babu began to speak, "Brother is five years older than me. But he is weaker than me in all matters. Actually, brother was dyslexic. Even being a doctor himself, father could not accept that. As a result, brother's education, instead of being in a special child school, happened in a regular school. There, brother had to be a victim of ragging, not only by students but also by teachers." Purnendu Babu stopped. We had finished our tea. Purnendu Babu started speaking again, "I was very young then, I don't remember clearly; what I can recall is our school's math teacher... the name... yes, Kamalkrishna Das. Brother attacked him; he would have even killed him, but the other students managed him. The case went to the Calcutta High Court. Our lawyer was Tanmay Bhaduri. A criminal lawyer. By judgment, brother was sent to a home. Our contact has decreased since then," he uttered the last words with a sigh. "After that, brother left the home; he was about twenty then. We couldn't find any trace of him despite much searching. Later, we got news of him from the newspapers. We tried to contact him, but brother repeatedly avoided it. Probably his resentment toward us will never break."
As the gentleman stopped, I asked out of my own curiosity, "You said Nirmalendu Babu attacked his teacher. What did he attack him with?"
"I can't say. The memories are very thin. Bhaduri Kaku might be able to tell you."
"Where does he live? Any contact number?"
"I don't have a contact number. But he lives in Kolkata. Where in Kolkata, I cannot say."
"Which year?"
"It would be 1947."
After asking a few more questions, we offered our Namaskar and came out.
Coming outside the house, I asked, "What did you understand?"
"The darkness is slowly clearing."
Who knows what is clearing? While walking along the path, Ved-da called someone. When the call was picked up from the other side, I realized it was Oishi-di.
Ved-da said, "Hello, Didi? It's your brother," I couldn't hear the words from the other side. From this side again, "Listen. I need a little help. In 1947, a case came up in the Calcutta High Court. A 13-year-old student, a resident of Krishnanagar, Nadia, tried to murder his math teacher Kamalkrishna Das in class. I couldn't find out with what, but the plaintiff's name is Kamalkrishna Das and the defendant is Suryanarayan Mitra. The accused is Nirmalendu Mitra. He was sent to a home by judgment—a case of mental issues. The boy had dyslexia."
Though the words from the other side were not audible, I heard Ved-da say, "Okay, thanks. Bye."
Ved-da hung up. Who knows in which direction this incident is heading? Where is its end!
..... To be continued