The sun on the sixteenth of October shone most brightly and lovingly over the city of Kolkata. The city dwelled in the warmth of the sun. Madhuri left her class early that day, because it was day she had to go to the enchanting college street to give away a few of her old books in exchange of other’s old books, it was a culture that was much celebrated in the college street back in the year two thousand and two. Madhuri loved her books like nothing else, they were very close to her, she considered them a piece of her heart but yet exchanging them would let Madhuri enjoy a huge pallet of literature from around the world. However, she had a habit of writing little notes on the very first page of her books for the reader who would get it next. This was a ritual that she enjoyed the most about exchanging her books and thus she would leave her class early on the sixteenth of every month to visit the street.
Madhuri was a little late at arriving at the college street that day, she entered the store and greeted the owner who was referred to as dada by the people in the town, dada was happy to see her because he and Madhuri shared a beautiful bond of friendship. “Welcome my bacha! I and this gentleman have been waiting for you” spoke dada in Bengali. “that’s so nice of you ,dada, I had so many books to give away today, so writing these notes took time. Also I haven’t seen this Babu Moshay here before, is he new to the exchange community” replied Madhuri. “ I do not know bacha, he is not babu moshay, he is some gentlemen it seems, he speaks the English language, but he showed me a book that had a note written by you, so I asked him to wait for you.” Madhuri smiled and moved towards where the gentleman was standing.
“Hello babu moshay, dada tells me that you have some note that is concerned with me” said Madhuri with a warm smile on her face. The gentleman, pleased to see Madhuri replied “Hello! I am Rob, and I am not a babu moshay, I have been in India just for a month, in fact I have only been to this bookstore just twice, the first time I was here, I took a book from the exchange club, and was astonished to find a note inside it, out of curiosity I am here again. “Nice to meet you, Mr Rob, these notes are an essential part of my life now, I give away my books with little love in the form of these notes, but I wonder, what is that curiosity for that pulls you here?” asked Madhuri. “ If I were to be honest, I would say it was the writer of the note, it made me feel homely that no place rather country has been able to. I had to meet the writer and thank them and here I am,” said Rob. “I am really glad you felt this way, but pardon me, why do you say that no place has been home to you?”
Rob has been in many foster homes through out his life, in his early teen, he was adopted by a wealthy couple in Iran but the couple lost their lives in a tragic accident in 2001 thus Rob was alone once again, being the only one related to the couple, he became the sole inherent of their wealth which he spent discovering the world, in search of a home.
Rob narrated his story to Madhuri, and said “I have come here looking for another note that I want you to write for me, I seek nothing else”. Madhuri took out a book from her bag, she held it up to let Rob read the title , ‘The Best of Satyajit Ray’ it read. “ Satyajit Ray is someone I look up to, this book is close to my heart but for some reason, I feel you should keep it with you” saying this Madhuri took out a pen and penned a note on the first page of the book.
‘Dear Rob,
Thought this would take you a step closer to becoming the proverbial Babu Moshay’
She then handed the book to Rob, “I hope this book helps you realise that Kolkata shall always welcome you with all the love, babu moshay” and she left the bookstore.
That was the last and the first time that Rob and Madhuri met, but Rob got his home and Madhuri gave away her favourite book to her Babu Moshay.
I do not know where Rob and Madhuri are now. But while roaming around the college street, twenty years later from when they met, I stumbled upon an old copy of ‘The Best of Satyajit Ray’ in which Madhuri wrote a note for Rob. I weaved a story of Rob and Madhuri; I wonder why Rob is no longer with the book that made him feel home? Does Madhuri know about it? I shall never know.