Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Readers, Few days back, I had posted Part-1 of the story "Unforgettable Times." Readers gave me three important feedbacks. a) The use of Bengali words and dialogues were too frequent, causing difficulties with International readers. b) Certain explanations which came within the main body of the text were very distracting. They felt it should have been appended at the end. c) Explanations of a few more terms were needed. I thank the readers for these valuable comments and feel sorry for the difficulties encountered by them due to my inexperience as a writer. I am therefore re-submitting Part-1 with some revisions. As the remaining parts of the story are also ready, I am posting those too. In the revised attempt for all the parts, I have reduced Bengali dialogues to a minimum. Only whatever was unavoidable considering the moods of the story still remains. The songs of Rabindranath Tagore (Rabindrasangeet) are an endless source of nourishment and fascination for me since my childhood, I couldn't avoid referring to a few lyrics of Rabindrasangeet in my writing. Those lyrics form essential parts of this story. With my limited abilities, I have at least tried to convey the inner meanings of some of those expressions. For any comments, please write to me at swagato86@yahoo.co.uk Swagato CAUTION : THE COMPLETE WORK (PART-1 to PART-4) IS COPYRIGHTED BY THE AUTHOR. REPRODUCTION OF ANY PORTION OF THIS WORK FOR PUBLIC DISTRIBUTION IN PRINTED FORM OR THROUGH INTERNET OR COMMERCIALISATION IN ANY FORM IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. *************************************************************************** ******************* ABOUT THIS STORY: This is an erotic love story of an eighteen year old young boy from Bengal, in India. The story was originally written in Bengali long time back and remained unpublished. In the interest of asstr readers, I have thoroughly modified its original contents, while re-writing the story in English. Please do not be impatient about the erotic part ! Everything needs a proper time, place and condition. ************************** Unforgettable times: Part-1**************************************** It was the Spring season in the early seventies. In those days, this planet was yet to face the burns of global warming and Spring was a season to enjoy in Bengal. The mornings always used to bear a mild chilly touch with it, bringing the fragrance of fresh, colourful spring flowers. Afternoons used to be a bit warm, but not for long. Before the birds could flock back to their nests, a mild southerly breeze used to make the atmosphere soothing and pleasant again. No wonder poets and writers in Bengal and India have described Spring as the most romantic season. But, Spring in Bengal is no longer that beautiful. Thanks to global warming, these days always an early summer sets in, spoiling the charms of Spring. That was not the case, when I was a young boy of eighteen. I was then in the first year of my Engineering course and was staying in a town which could be reached from Calcutta (now known as Kolkata) within two to three hours of time. At least in my first year, I don't remember having missed a weekend visit to Calcutta to meet my friends and family. It was one of such regular weekend visits. I went to meet Abhirup, my classmate since early childhood. Both of us were very close to each other in sharing our thoughts and feelings. Both of us used to compete for the topper's place in the class, but the competition never affected our strong bond of friendship. Rather, we used to take the competition quite sportingly, without much of seriousness or any bitterness attached to it. Our academic interests and inclinations were somewhat different. Abhirup had interests on Biology whereas I was more inclined to Maths. After our higher secondary exams, Abhirup rightly decided to join the medical course and I went in for engineering. "Swagato, wouldn't you like to go out for a stroll ?", suggested Abhirup. I readily agreed. Ever since our adolescence, we had lot of things to share, which couldn't be done in the small flat of theirs. Our topics of discussions inevitably needed some privacy and to get that, we generally used to spend some time beside Rabindra Sarobar, or, the "lake", as we used to lovingly call it. The evening breeze beside the lake was indeed pleasant. Abhirup and I managed to get an empty bench and sat down. Now that we were in different colleges and our meetings weren't as frequent as it used to be during our school days, we had much to talk and share. "Any plans for holi, Swagato ?" Abhirup asked me. "Oh yeah, it's on Thursday, am I right ? We have two days' holiday and combining with the weekend, it makes four days in all. So, I am surely coming down to Calcutta on Wednesday night and we'll together have a grand fun, what you say ? It will be great if you, Gautam and Anup come to our home in the morning and we play together." "Sorry Swagato, I won't be here during the holi." told Abhirup and I was clearly disappointed. "Is it ? Where are you going ?" I asked. I have rarely seen Abhirup leaving Calcutta. "Going to Shantiniketan this time." he replied in his characteristic soft tone. "Wow ! That sounds great !" I said. I assumed Abhirup would go with his parents. But, I was wrong. "Oh no, they won't accompany me. My dad will not get any leave at this time of the year. Why don't you come along with me ?" Abhirup suggested. I was quite delighted at this unexpected suggestion and was feeling tempted to grab it instantly. "Me ? Are you serious Abhirup ? Where are we going to stay ?" I asked. I knew that youth hostels, lodges etc. are all overbooked during this time of the year. "Remember ? I told you about my mother's uncle and aunt who stay in Shantiniketan" "Yes, of course. Mashima's uncle is a well-known painter and a close associate of Tagore. You are talking about them, right ?" I asked. "Oh yes, you're right. My dida has been writing to me since long to visit their place. This time, I feel I should accept her offer." he said. Abhirup could sense my hesitation and uneasiness to accept the idea of staying in his relative's house. "Come on Swagato. They are so nice persons. They are aged and lonely. Surely they will like our company and you shouldn't hesitate to stay." Abhirup's assurance was enough to make me agree. He is one of my best friends after all. I was more than willing to go, only a bit of hesitation, since I hadn't seen them before. "Abhirup, hope your dida won't find it difficult to accommodate two of us." I still wanted to make sure that my visit shouldn't cause any discomfort to the old couple who are habituated to stay alone. Abhirup smiled. "Swagato, I wish you had been there before. They have a two-storied studio building, detached from their bunglow. It's unused since long. You and me will stay there. Don't think that space will be of any problem there." I readily agreed. I always love the countryside of Bengal and after reading so much about Rabindranath Tagore's beloved Shantiniketan, I found Abhirup's offer really tempting. "That's great. I'll tell dida to cook for two us then. Can't you skip classes on the day before ? We must start a day before the holi." "You are right Abhirup. Don't worry. My friends will arrange for proxy attendance. Only problem is Prof.Ramamoorthy of Electrical- anyway, forget him." "Good. We can then start by Barauni Passenger early in the morning and get the first day fully with us in Shantiniketan." ************** I didn't have a good sleep. There were tensions of waking up early and getting into the first morning bus that goes to the station. I was quite early to reach there and looking for Abhirup, who I know is always a late comer. After a bit of search in the long crowded platform, I could finally manage to locate him. He was talking to one of his male classmates from Medical College. "Swagato, meet Chandan, my classmate in Medical College. Chandan, he is Swagato - you heard so much about him." "Hello, nice to meet you. So, will you too be accompanying us ? It's just great." I said. "Well, I'll only accompany you in the train. My parents stay in Shantiniketan. My dad is a professor there. So, we wouldn't be staying together in Shantiniketan, unless of course you and Abhirup decide to stay in our house, as I was just now suggesting to him." Chandan invited us with all eagerness. "Sorry, Chandan. I can't disappoint my dida. We have to stay there only." Abhirup was quite firm. Rightly so. After a brief wait, Barauni Passenger steamed in alongside the platform. In those days, steam train used to run regularly and the memory of steam train journey is making me terribly nostalgic, as I am writing it. Chandan is a nice boy, full of life and full of fun. His company was really enjoyable. All three of us were eighteen year old and naturally, the most favourite topic of our discussion was "girls". We were having rolls of laughter when Chandan was describing their female medical college classmates, their vital statistics, physical descriptions. He was also trying to imitate their voice and style. Of course, we were careful about our tongue and tried our best not to use the characteristic Bengali slangs, as the crowded train was very much a public place and was carrying many cultured, elderly people to Shantiniketan. After our train crossed Burdwan, the landscape changed. The vast green plane land was replaced by red gravels and green bushy trees. Occasionally, the smokes that escaped from the steam engine was making the view blurred. Then again at the very next moment, it was becoming clear. Finally, the train halted in Bolpur. The crowded train became almost empty as most of the passengers, including three of us got down. Surely, all of them were flocking to Shantiniketan to join Vasantotsav. "Any rickshaw needed for Shantiniketan ?" The rickshaw pullers started competing with each other to grab the tourists. Before we could negotiate and settle for one, another man approached, " Chandan dadababu, come with me..." This rickshaw puller was well-known to Chandan. He virtually snatched our bags and forced three of us to get into his rickshaw without any fare bargain. The rickshaw ride was just too fun with Chandan managing his seat between our laps. When we reached Abhirup's dida's house, we found Dida was waiting in the balcony for us. We got down and Chandan took the rickshaw straight home. He promised that he would meet us in the evening. "Aay, tora bhitore aay. Sei kon sakaale beriechhis balto ?" Dida welcomed us in with all her affections. She felt sorry that both of us must be tired and hungry since we left Calcutta so early in the morning. Everything was feeling so different. So calm and quiet a place ! No motor horns, no shouting of hawkers, no sound of speeding cars and buses. There was silence all around, truely the "abode of peace" as Rabindranath Tagore lovingly named this place. The "krishnachura" and "palash" trees in front of their house were full of red bunch of flowers, as if they were on fire. A cuckoo was singing from one of the trees close by. At a distant tree, its mate was replying in a different tune. In no time, I was in love with Shantiniketan. "You take your bath. In the meantime, I'll keep your meals hot and ready.", Dida told us. I could smell the fragrance of boiling rice and that was making my hunger more and more intense. Abhirup and I came to the first floor of the studio house. The ground floor used to be Abhirup's grandpa (dadu)'s painting hall. It was locked up since several years. The first floor of the studio house had a room with an attached bath, where Abhirup and I were supposed to stay. After unpacking our bags, Abhirup went first to take his bath. I was waiting in the adjacent balcony, overlooking a pond. I saw a young girl. She had just finished taking her bath in the pond and went to a hide behind the trees to change her wet clothes. I could steal a glance at her face. It looked so innocent ! The eighteen year old boy in me was eager to witness her undressing act and I was already feeling the pressures growing inside my underpants. Perhaps, the fresh green leaves of Spring were too dense to hide the rural beauty from my eager eyes. But not for ever. There was a mild breeze blowing. The leaves were dancing, uncovering the view at times. The girl was wiping off the water droplets from her fully grown breasts with dark nipples that projected out. She must not have sensed my peeping eyes. There was none around and there was no reason for her to suspect that she was being watched. I couldn't take my eyes off. She put on her blouse, wrapped her saree around. Then, she let her wet hair fall on her back and slowly walked through the village road, far beyond my sight. In this lovely place, the erotic thoughts and fantasies, which I had nurtured since my adolescence days, rushed to my mind. I was feeling a burning urge to release my sexual tensions through masturbation. As soon as Abhirup finished his bath, I went in and removed my underwear. My hardness under the tight underpants was becoming unbearable. I needed a release, as I was still imagining the lovely breasts of the village girl whom I had seen just a few minutes back. There it was, there it was for me - a load that I was unable to bear. Feeling relieved, I started humming the tune of one of my favourite Tagore songs in this calm and quiet environment"Kolaahal to baaron holo Ebaar kothaa kaane kaane..." The tap was on and the bucket was getting filled with cool, fresh water. I poured the cold water all over my naked body. A fresh cold water shower after the long journey by steam train was so freshening ! "Swagato, just hurry up. Dida is waiting for us with lunch" Abhirup called up from the room. I realised that I was spending more time in the bathroom than usual when Abhirup called me. ********* "Dida, it's just great - so tasty !" I said. We were so much hungry that everything tasted so nice ! Rice, daal (lentil), delicious "icharh" (green jackfruit curry) and yes, something that is a must for Bengalees - a mouthwatering preparation of sweet water fish. "Oh, don't tell me. I couldn't prepare much. Just these simple items only." Dida was so nice and simple a person. There was no formality anywhere. She was showering her affection to me and Abhirup as much as she could. I was yet to meet Dadu. Being an old man, he finished his lunch much earlier and was having an afternoon rest in his room. We too took a very brief afternoon nap after the lunch, but soon it was abruptly terminated as the old ceiling fan, which was rotating so long with its characteristic screaching noise came to a grinding halt. It was a power failure - nothing unusual in Bengal. We decided to go to the open terrace, to enjoy the mild breeze of Spring afternoon and started chatting there. We must have been on the terrace for quite a long time. The sun was on the lower part of the western sky. Everything was calm, except for occasional bird chimes. People were leisurely walking down the road that was there in front of the house. Suddenly I noticed not one, but three young girls walking together. "Abhirup, the girls are approaching this house !" I quickly drew Abhirup's attention in a low voice. "Hey, shut up ! One of them is my cousin. But, I certainly don't know about the other two." Abhirup cautioned me before I could make any careless remark about his cousin or her friends. Ahirup's cousin Sonali was a first year student of Visva Bharati University in Shantiniketan. Like Abhirup, she is similarly related to dadu and dida. Sonali and her friends saw us from the road. Sonali waved at Abhirup and shouted, "Tom-tom ! When did you come ? " Tom-tom is the nickname of Abhirup. It's very common for us to have a nick name within the family. Sometimes those names are short forms of their actual names, and quite often, it is just a funny name, affectionately called by the near and dear ones. (Sorry, I too have one, but I hate it so much that I don't wish to disclose that before my readers.) We climbed down the terrace. Abhirup was eager to meet his cousin. Since they don't stay in the same town, they don't happen to see each other frequently. All of us gathered on the open lawn in front of the house. Dadu was relaxing there on a reclining chair. There, I got myself introduced to this famous personality. Who were the other two girls ? The readers must be curious to know that, isn't it ? One of them was Papiya, Sonali's schoolmate - just as myself and Abhirup were. Sonali's parents are settled in a district town in Bengal and that's where she had her primary and secondary schooling. Sonali had invited her close friend Papiya to see Shantiniketan during Vasantotsav. Papiya's parents didn't allow her to come alone and so, her elder sister Keka had to accompany her as an escort. Keka was elder to Papiya by at least three years. She was studying M.Sc. in Calcutta University. Papiya was sweet and charming, but Keka was even better. She was tall, fair and had an attractive figure by any standards. As per Bengali social norms, we had to address her as Keka-di, as she was elder to me and Abhirup. Our long chat session was mostly dominated by Dadu. Old people are never tired of narrating their memories before the younger generation. Dida kept the session livelier with tea and fish finger fries as snacks. I was not paying much of attention to what Dadu was narrating. I was again and again taking a glimpse at the beauty of Keka-di. She was wearing a beautiful printed silk saree. I think she was also becoming alert when I was looking at her. But, characteristically, I am shy. At least that's how I was in those days. When I realized that my repeated glance was making her alert, I turned my eyes away. But again, at the very next moment, I was feeling tempted to look at her. I could sense a new feeling inside me - something I liked so much, but never had it before. It's difficult to explain what it was. Chandan had promised to come before the evening, but was quite late when he arrived. "I met Tuktuk-di on the way and got late" he said with an apology. "Tuktuk-di means the famous Rabindrasangeet singer.............. ? Are you talking of her ?" I wondered. "Oh yeah, she knows me since my early childhood. We were neighbours before we changed our house." Chandan said. This man is so lucky, I thought. I had several collection of her songs on the gramophone disc, such a famous singer she is and Chandan was just casually talking to her on the way. Believable ? I felt a bit jealous. "That's great, Chandan. But I have a bad news for you. We have eaten all the fish fingers and there is nothing left for you." I told him. As if that was a punishment he must undergo for meeting the noted singer on the way. "No way Chandan ! I have a few more kept aside for you. I'll get them fried in no time." Dida intervened. "Yeah, that's so nice of you, my Dida." said Chandan with jubilation. I realized that Dida might be more affectionate to Chandan than what she was to Abhirup and now, me. They are all Shantiniketan residents and know each other fairly well. At least, that's how the community lifestyle was in Shantiniketan in those old days. The long chat couldn't continue for very long, as the dusk set in and the mosquitoes intervened. "Abhirup, wouldn't you people like to have a walk around Amrakunja and Chhatimtala ?", suggested Sonali. All of us, meaning three young boys and three young girls welcomed the suggestion. While we were walking, we made two distinct groups - the boys' group and the girls' group with hardly any inter-group interaction in between. When we were tired of walking, we decided to sit down in a place for sometime. By then, the lovely moon was peeping through the trees. It was a day before the full moon. Holi is celebrated on the full-moon day in Spring. Shantiniketan was looking lovelier in the moonlight and the evening was still very young. We sat down. But what more to talk ? Three of us endlessly chatted on the train this morning. I felt it was time to keep some silence and enjoy the beauty and quietness. Sonali was talking to Papiya in a very low voice. We couldn't make out what they were talking, but Keka-di didn't take part in their conversation. Understandably, she was elder to them and she respected the privacy of her younger sister and her friend. Or, was it that this boy-girl barrier was making her feel awkward ? "Such a lovely evening it is ! Can't we listen to some songs from you ?" Keka-di threw this question to the boys' group. Chandan was first to react- "Aren't you already listening to songs ? The mosquitoes are singing Pooo pooo.. ." "Hey, stop joking. I'm serious." Keka-di certainly didn't like poor jokes from Chandan. "So, you want to invite the stray dogs here ? They would surely start barking and come forward if I sing a song now." again it was Chandan who was our spokesman. "It may happen with your song, but I'm sure one of you will be able to sing very well." Keka-di appeared to be a bit annoyed with Chandan's answers. Abhirup looked at my face with a smile. Perhaps he wanted to ask me, "Shall I tell about you ?". I grabbed his hand and winked, "Please, no." "Jaake gaan korte bolechhi, se kintu thik bujhte perechhe !" Keka-di said in Bengali. Her hint was for the singer among us. "What makes you so sure that one of us can sing ?" was my first direct conversation with Keka-di. "Singers have a different voice. You know what I mean." she said. Though I was shy enough to admit that I could sing, surely Keka-di understood it. I got a naughty idea. How about singing, "E paare mukharo holo Keka oi....", a Tagore song that contains "Keka". But I resisted my temptation to do that. Who knows, Keka-di might take some exceptions to it. The moonlight was flooding Shantiniketan all around. It was time for "Baitalik". "Have you seen Tuktuk-di ?" Chandan whispered to my ears. Oh, I just couldn't believe my eyes ! The famous singer was just a few feet away from us, talking to others and waiting for the assembly of Baitalik to take place. Everyday, Baitalik chooses a different song. On that day, it was, "O aamaar chaader aalo Aaj phaaguner sandhyaakaale dharaa diyechho..." . In this song, Tagore has welcomed the flooding moonlight of the Spring full moon. The most appropriate song for that night of course. The melody is one of my most favourite ones. We too followed the Baitalik. Now, the gap between our own boys' group and the girls' group narrowed down without putting up any conscious effort to do so. At some point of time, I too joined my voice with the chorus, "Je gaan tomaar surer dhaaraay banyaa jaagaay, Taaraay taaraay surer dhaaraay banyaa jaagaay, Mor aanginaay baajlo ....." When the song ended, I heard a voice just next to me. "I wasn't wrong. Isn't it ?" I turned my face to the side. It was Keka-di. I didn't notice that she was walking next to me. She was directly looking at my eyes. So was I. ************ End of Part-1. ******************************************************** *************************NOTES********************************************* ********************* 1. Holi: Holi is a popular Indian festival of colours, celebrated in the Spring season. People apply colours on each other, sharing the fun and the joy with their near and dear ones. 2. Shantiniketan: Shantiniketan is located 211 kms. to the west of Kolkata, the capital of West Bengal, a state of India. Debendranath Tagore, the father of the great poet and Nobel Laureate, Rabindranath Tagore had set up an ashram (hermitage) for meditation in a village that was close to Bolpur town in Bengal. There, Rabindranath Tagore established an experimental open air school in 1901 and named it Shantiniketan, meaning "abode of peace". In latter years, it grew into a University, known as Visva Bharati University and attracted a large number of international students and scholars. I may just make a passing reference to the readers that even after the demise of Rabindranath Tagore, Shantiniketan had produced many famous personalities. They include 1998 Nobel laureate in Economics, Prof.Amartya Sen, who spent his childhood here. The great film director and Oscar winner Satyajit Ray and the late Indian Prime Minister Mrs.Indira Gandhi were also students of this place for sometime. Holi is celebrated as "Vasantotsav" (festival of Spring) in Shantiniketan and ever since Tagore himself introduced "Vasantotsav" in Shantiniketan,it became increasingly popular over the years, attracting a large number of tourists and visitors. 3. Rabindranath Tagore: Rabindranath Tagore(1861-1941)- Indian poet, philosopher, and Nobel laureate was born in Calcutta and later travelled to different parts of the world. He grew up in a large house where there was much writing and artistic activity, and he wrote prolifically his entire life, producing more than 3,000 songs as well as volumes of novels,short stories, plays, and poems. In later life he delivered lectures and made many paintings. He wrote what are now the national anthems of both India and Bangladesh. Tagore wrote primarily in Bengali, but translated many of his works into English himself. He was awarded the 1913 Nobel Prize in literature, and in 1915 he was knighted by the British king George V. Tagore renounced his knighthood in 1919 following the Amritsar massacre of 400 Indian demonstrators by British troops. His famous works were 'Balaka' , 'Sonar Tari', 'Chitali', and 'Gitanjali' etc. Tagore songs, popularly known as Rabindrasangeet are famous for richness in lyrics and tunes. Rabindranath himself was a great lover of Classical Indian music (Hindustani and Carnatic), Bengali folk songs (Baul), Kirtan, Tappa and even Western Classicals of Bach, Beethoven etc. In his songs, one finds influences of all these tunes, plus his own characteric ones. 4. About Baitalik: "Baitalik" is a group of singers who walk around the campus and sing a chorus song together, while maintaing a slow pace of walk. No musical instrument is used, only vocal singing is performed. Baitalik is a speciality of Shantiniketan and like all customs and traditions in Shantiniketan, this too I believe, was introduced by Rabindranath Tagore himself. 5. About kinship: a) "di", as in "Keka-di" is a short form of "didi", meaning elder sister. b) "Dida" or "didima" means grandma. Abhirup's mother's aunt becomes his grandma by relation. Friend's grandma is also addressed as "Dida". c) "Dadu" means grandpa. d) "Mashima" means aunt. Friend's mom is addressed as "mashima" in our society.