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The never-ending wait :The beginning

Atin was a professional photographer and has worked with numerous reputed international agencies. He has restricted his work off late since his body has failed to cope up with the perils of intermittent sojourns. He has been blessed with a very eventful life. Today he has planned to pen down a heart-wrenching incident which had occurred about twenty years back. He now opened the pages of a diary and began writing…

I don’t exactly recall the year of occurrence. I wanted to portray a tribal village bathing in the monsoon rains. One of my school friend, Aditya who was a writer suggested me to visit the small town Baranti which was inhabited by the tribals. He told me, “I am giving you the contact number and address of Mrs.Dutta. Her husband was an established businessman and had built a grand residence at Baranti. But after his untimely death, his business got taken over by his business partner and his wife and daughter had to shift to Baranti.

She now runs a tourist lodge there. I often visit Baranti and stay at their place. Their hospitality is quite enjoyable I must say.” He then gave a meaningful wink and said, “And Mrs.Dutta’s daughter, Dipti is the by far the most beautiful and graceful girl, you would ever find. She is quite vivacious and is an amazing hostess. You will enjoy every moment of your stay. You would thank me later on.”I soon packed my baggage and went to Baranti on a weekend.
I was mesmerized by the quaint old charm of this place. Mud huts were dotting the tranquil village. A majestic three-storeyed house soon caught my attention. I soon realized that I had reached my destination.Mrs.Dutta greeted me at the entrance. I had earlier informed her about my arrival. She said, “I was quite surprised to hear that you are coming here. The monsoon has already begun, the tourists hardly come here now. It is only in winters that we have a decent number of tourists.’’

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I replied with a smile, “Mam, actually I am a photographer and I have come here to capture the beauty of a tribal village drenched in the monsoon rains.’’ She seemed to be quite pleased with my reply and said, “Yes indeed, you won’t be disappointed. It is a really beautiful place but has not yet become a popular tourist destination.

Photographers like you could uphold the unconventional charm of this place. You won’t have any problems. My daughter, Dipti will show you around.

She knows every nooks and corner of this place and will help you get the perfect location. I have accommodated you on the second floor. I will show you the room.’’ Soon I got a glimpse of a beautiful young girl, who staring aimlessly at the doorway. It seemed as if she was unaware of my presence and was completely immersed in her thoughts. Mrs. Dutta soon noticed her arrival and said, “Dipti, this is our new guest, Mr. Roy. Please show him his room and tell Raju to carry his luggage to his room.’’

Dipti now looked at me. Aditya had not exaggerated even a bit; indeed Dipti was spectacularly beautiful and was draped in a vibrant blue sari. She led me to a spacious well-furnished room on the second floor. She was quite all the while and was about to leave my room, but suddenly she turned back and asked me with a gleaming smile, “You are from Kolkata, right?’’ I nodded with a smile.

She then said, “It has been quite a while that we have been to Kolkata. It is such a great place to live. I was there during my childhood days but after my father’s demise, we had to come here. But anyway, this place is also beautiful in its way. I have heard that you are a photographer. I will show you around in the evening.” I was accompanied by Dipti in the evening. She took me to many places around the village, and I took a lot of snapshots. It was drizzling a bit and we decided that we had to return.

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