Book Title: Maguni’s Bullock Cart And Other Classic Odia Stories
Author: Mini Krishnan, Leelawati Mohapatra, K.K. Mohapatra
Publisher: Harper Perennial India
Number of Pages: 224
ISBN: 978-9365691573
Date Published: Mar. 18, 2025
Price: INR 332
Book Excerpt
1945 Rajkishore Pattanaik: A House to Let
Pg. 177 – 179
OF ALL THE houses that Batakrushna passed on his way to college, some very beautiful and elegant, the one he found arresting was low and thatch-roofed, damp and in an advanced state of decay. Situated on a vacant lot full of shrubs and bushes—the nearest houses on either side were at least a couple of hundred feet away—it stood out.
On a day of heavy rain, with torrents of water, the colour of red mud gushing onto the road—a nearby pond was already overflowing—Batakrushna fell off his bicycle right in front of this house.
After he had picked himself up, soaked to the skin, he noticed a young woman watching him from the doorway. Her eyes were still; there was not a trace of laughter, let alone a hint of ridicule on that beautiful face.
‘Bhadaghara’, according to the author, was written in 1945, but was published in an eponymous anthology in 1958.178 rajkishore pattanaik
He was annoyed with himself for having chosen that particular spot to fall off his bike, but instead of hurrying away, he wanted to stop and straighten the handlebars and take shelter from the downpour on the veranda of the house. If only she would invite him.
But the young woman’s gaze remained as distant and immobile as before.
As he crossed the flooded patch, Batakrushna craned his neck one time too many to take in more of the woman—the sole witness to his shame, embarrassment and pain.
Back home, as he changed into dry clothes and warmed his damp bed, he caught himself fantasizing about her. In his fond imagination, she’d already become an object of desire.
From then on, he shunned all other routes to and from college and stuck to the same one, hoping to catch occasional glimpses of her.
But for a long time, he didn’t see her again. He made it a point to ring the bell on his bicycle, often without any cause, but no one ever appeared in the doorway. The drain that ran in front of the house always reminded him of the heavy downpour, the flooded road and his ignominious fall. And his hope of seeing the girl again remained just that—a distant hope.
A month passed. One evening, he saw two women coming out of the house, one of them the girl he was longing to see. As their eyes met, he was pleased to see a flicker of recognition in her eyes. Her eyes had lit up as if spotting a familiar face in a crowd.
But the girl seemed tired, worn-out, no longer as fresh and lively as she had been on that first day. Judging by the clothes she and her companion wore, they were not very well-off. What had happened 179 A House to Let
to her? Batakrushna’s mind was racing. Could worries and anxiety have reduced her to this? No, some prolonged illness more likely. What else could explain why he hadn’t seen her all this time?
His anger rose against the house, growing by the day. The low thatch-roofed house with its damp walls had brought sickness to his beloved, the object of his dreams.
From then on, he sometimes saw her at the door. Her face remained as impassive and immobile as ever and her eyes as remote and unseeing. But he’d find himself blushing heavily and his heart beating wildly at her sight. He’d apply more pressure to the pedals to push past the house as fast as he could.
In the course of time, on his way back and forth, he slowed down so he could study the house a little further, drinking in more of its air and ambience. He began to take note of the vegetable vendors, paanwallahs, house repairers, travelling salesmen and others who called there; their faces became familiar in his mind like imprints branded on wet clay pots.
He began to like many aspects of the house, but the girl remained as remote as in the past.
As if ordained by fate, when he was passing by a few days later, he saw a horse-drawn carriage laden with luggage leaving the house. His heart gave a lurch; somebody seemed to whisper into his ears: she’s leaving forever. He could see the rounded elbow of a woman sticking out the carriage window. He followed it for some distance but stopped when it seemed to him an unseemly and indecent act. He knew he’d lost for all time to come the girl he’d got used to dreaming about.
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Excerpted with permission from Maguni’s Bullock Cart And Other Classic Odia Stories by Mini Krishnan, published by Harper Perennial India.
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