We have had an unusual couple visiting us in the last few weeks, introducing a new flavour in our lives. They are young - very young in fact - and have a kind of artless genuineness found only among those not yet broken in by the settled mores of older people.
For example, they don't call before coming, not even when they visit us rather early in the morning. And once they get in, they think nothing of going around discovering our place and, their expressions say, examining if it will suit them and if so, which corner.
Logically, I should have raised a figurative eyebrow and asked in as mock-casual a way as possible: so how have you decided that we have a corner to spare? But to say this to a couple of such fresh faces would be to behave like the worst prig in the world.
After they had gone round a little, I could guess what they were looking for. The last thing on their minds was an attached bath or exclusive kitchen. All they were interested in was their corner - and the way they peered out showed that it was not enough for it to be exclusive; it had to have nature's light pouring in. But they also seemed to be careful so that it was not in the way of the wind and the rain.
It amused me to realise that they wanted the moon: a place close to the elements, but also safe from them! The only people who can get away with this are the young, starting out on life's journey with hope, innocence and unbridled optimism.
I couldn't help recalling the first flat that the wife and I had moved into. All that we really had of our own was a double bed. The sitting room made do with a couple of mattresses covered with a bright counterpane and a few cushions. It was a red-letter day when the gas connection came; the wedding present money was used to buy a small direct-cooled (frost-free had not arrived) fridge; and the great Kolkata market for rented furniture gave us a little dining table with a few chairs and a glass cupboard for books. With all this, we felt like kings.
What really took away my breath was the girl - I presume it was her, as in these days of unisex look they look so alike - picking up a tiny bit from the breakfast leftovers on the dining table. It was just an enquiring nibble to say: let me see if you eat right. You are not surprised if a child does this, but it is only the youngest grown-ups who can carry off such a thing.
After they had come, looked around, sized up and gone I was first totally bemused. When the wife woke up (she is a late riser) and I told her what had happened, she looked a bit surprised and said I should have shooed them away right at the beginning.
In a few days, I was able to put out of my mind the image of the couple moving around with such effortless grace, pigeonholing the episode as one of those you use to flavour your memoirs every time they get bogged down with the narration of weighty events.
But after a week they were back! Again no phone call asking to come over and not so much as by-your-leave as they went straight in, on to a repeat round of their earlier inspection. It was as if they had come to validate the impressions of their first visit.
This time, what struck me was that they looked so alike. You could hardly make out who was the boy and who was the girl. I eventually figured out the boy from the extra swagger he had, as if he was trying to impress the girl. Then a major possibility dawned on me. Maybe they were not even married, and were doing first things first: house-hunting before starting out to raise a family.
Thereafter, they didn't come any more. Maybe they had found a better home to build their nest. When I told the wife this, she looked relieved. We must be careful about what happens on the ledge in the inside wall of the outside verandah. Couldn't keep cleaning up after them, she said.
I was crestfallen. It would have been an honour if these two doves with beautiful spotted collars, who had flown in from the nearby east Kolkata wetlands, had built their nest in one corner of out verandah.
subirkroy@gmail.com
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