Arjun's mother's words echoed in the air like a sudden crack of thunder on a quiet evening. "They say childhood love — that very first feeling that stirs in the heart — can never truly be forgotten. For the past few days, she has been coming back to me again and again."
A faint smile touched his mother's lips as she replied, "It feels good to know that even you remember Rani, your childhood friend from the neighborhood. She left our mohalla so suddenly, without a word to anyone."
Then, in a sharp, anger-laced voice, his mother added, "But Bittoo, we remember the living. Not the dead."
Arjun shook his head fiercely, refusing to accept it. "No, I don't believe that. It's all nonsense — just idle gossip and wild imagination. She didn't die, Ma. She simply left our neighborhood… left this city. Maybe."
He looked straight into her eyes and asked, "Ma, how can you say with such certainty that she is dead?"
His mother's tone remained harsh and unyielding. "Everyone in the mohalla says the same thing — that her father killed her."
Arjun stepped closer, his voice trembling with disbelief. "But why didn't you ever tell me?"
"You were only eleven years old then," she replied coldly. "We didn't think it was necessary to burden a child with such horror."
Her sharp voice made it clear she had no desire to speak of Rani anymore. Yet the question lingered in Arjun's mind: if she truly wanted to avoid the topic, why had she mentioned Rani's name at all today?
His mother never spoke carelessly. There had to be something — some old wound that still pained her as much as it pained him.
With a heavy heart, Bittoo said, "Ma, I'm going to sleep. I'm not hungry."
His mother paused, surprised. Just moments ago he had been ravenous. "Bittoo, tell me what happened?"
she asked gently. "You were so hungry earlier. Why this sudden change?"
He answered listlessly, "I don't feel like eating anymore." Then, almost in a whisper, he added, "Ma… please have that mango tree cut down. It reminds me too much of Rani."
His mother fell silent. That silence stung Arjun more than any words could have. Without another word, she walked slowly toward the kitchen to warm the food, her steps heavy, as if invisible weights had been tied to her feet.
Arjun followed her quietly into the kitchen, determined to find answers.A little later, mother and son sat together at the dining table, eating stuffed parathas and sipping tea.
Arjun knew exactly how to coax his mother; a few soft, affectionate words from him, and she usually softened.
While eating, his mother asked, "Bittoo… are you drifting away from Kavya?
Is there still some tension between you two?"
Then she answered her own question with a small smile, "Actually, both of you seemed as happy as before."
"No, Ma," Arjun replied. "Kavya is a wonderful girl. But ever since I saw Shobha-yatra procession on the road, all those long-buried memories have come rushing back, fresh and raw."I still can't forget her.
And perhaps you can't either — whether you admit it or not.
"His mother sighed deeply. "Rani was very unfortunate, Bittoo. Such a cruel fate — God wouldn't wish it even on his worst enemy for seven lifetimes."
Arjun's heart sank at those words. Hesitantly, he asked, "Did someone… do something wrong to her?"
"No, Bittoo, it wasn't like that," his mother said with quiet gravity. "It was just that her father never liked her. Everyone in Navadwip knew that. And you knew it too. Otherwise, he would never have done what he did that day."
That same question — the one Arjun had asked himself a thousand times but could never answer — rose again in his throat."I… I don't know," the words stuck once more.
His mother's loving fingers gently rested on his forehead. "Who, Rani…?" A shadow of pain crossed her eyes. "Ah, your childhood friend… that Rani. She is no longer in this world, my son."
"The sooner you accept this truth, the easier it will be for you to live your life."Arjun lifted his head and looked at her intently. "
I want to say something… Today, while returning from the ghat, during the shobha-yatra, she suddenly came back to me.
"She was my soulmate, the most beautiful part of my childhood. Her sudden, unexplained disappearance left a void in my life that I have never been able to fill, no matter how many years have passed."
Tears welled up in Arjun's eyes. "If she had to leave anyway, why did she ever come into our lives?"
The moment he rested his head in his mother's lap, all the pain he had buried for years rose like thick fog, clouding everything before him.That unforgettable childhood incident, which he had never been able to erase from his heart, began replaying in his mind like a vivid motion picture.
Arjun, Rani, and Ranjana were playing happily after bathing at the ghat. Ramnath Chacha was watching over them from a distance. Everything seemed perfectly normal — until a sudden, piercing scream shattered the air:
"Hey! What are you doing to that child? Leave her!"Everyone turned to look. Rani's father had lifted her in his arms, but it was not an embrace of love. It was filled with hatred, rage, and utter madness. His face was flushed crimson, his eyes blazing with fury.
Only moments earlier, Rani had been beaming with joy, holding her father's finger as she climbed onto the ferry. Papa, Ramnath Chacha, Bittoo, Bitti, and Ma — all of them were heading to Mayapur for the temple visit. Everyone was cheerful, excited for the pilgrimage.
Ma had seen it happen. Midway through the river, Rani's father had pushed her from behind. She had somehow managed to steady herself, too innocent to realize that the one who had pushed her was her own father.
Frightened and trembling, she had run back and clung to him for safety. She thought the commotion on the ferry was due to the waves — but the very next instant, he lifted her high in front of everyone and hurled her straight into the swirling waters of the Bhagirathi River.
Rani's small hands slipped through the air.
For a second—just a second—no one moved.The river roared. And then—
she was gone.
A splash. A ripple. Silence.
Arjun's breath stopped.
"RANI!" his voice tore through the sky, but the Bhagirathi swallowed it whole.
On the ferry, chaos erupted—
people shouting, hands pointing, someone jumping forward, but Arjun saw only one thing.
Rani's father. Standing still. Watching.
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