My Love ( Amar ador )
It must have been very early hours in the cold winter morning.
Hill View Nursing Home. Siliguri.
That I was awakened. And told. By a beaming Nurse.
‘Come, come. Come and see. You have a little sister. Taratari eso.’
I leapt up in joy. And ran down the one flight of stairs.
And entered a room. Yet dark from early winter hours.
I could hear voices from the adjoining room. Baba’s.
My Ma lay on a bed. Tugged up. She beckoned. And I ran.
Beside Ma also tugged up. There was a small thing. In a bundle. She pointed towards the bundle.
I saw. And suddenly the room lit up. Bright.
My sister. My Bonsona.
Today was born Rumjhum. February 11.
I was 8 years old when she was born. Baba and Ma had prepared me for her coming. I knew my Ma was nesting my future brother or sister in her belly.
Baba has named her long before she was born. We had a name for a brother. We had a name for a sister.
I distinctly remember both Baba and I wanted Rumjhum. Not the brother.
And Rumjhum it was.
I had two questions for each. Baba and Ma. Before my brother/sister came in my life.
One for Baba. ‘What does Rumjhum mean?’ Baba had said ‘Nothing. It is just so good to hear. Kichu na. Shunte Khub Bhalo Lage.’
One for Ma. ‘Ma, will you love her more than me? Tumi ki o asle oke beshi ador korbe?’
My Ma happens to be the most intelligent person I have met.
She replied ‘I will only love her when you go tired of loving her. Mithu, jokhon Tumi oke ador kora chere debe tokhon ami oke onek ador kore debo.’
Mousumi and I have still not stopped loving her. My little bundle of joy. My sister.
Rumjhum. Happy Birthday.