Begonia Whispers

By Niharika Goswami

The fall adheres to many different aromas. The fresh cookies and moist cream puffs from the bakery carries that exotic scent, sweet and delicious…. Bela can never get over it, no matter how many times she crosses the corner to that shop, one pastry will do. She is running late, the client must be waiting.

The first thing that greets Bella is a clash with a little imp. Imp, she used to label them that way. To make it worse… her firmly ironed blazer just got stained with some greasy chocolate ice-cream. A woman comes running, offering a purple hankie, “I hope you don’t mind, My boy is yet to learn some manners. Vikki, apologize to this lady right now.” The little man stares at Bela for a moment but does as he is told anyway. Bela recognizes, this is her client, then the little imp is supposed to be her son. Bela orchestrates them to take a seat, thus starts the pleasant meeting between the lawyer and her client.

Discussing the matters at hand, Sweta heaves a sigh, “It’s never easy right… getting divorced, then comes parental custody. I just wanna give this boy a home he

can rely on.. a drunkard and abusing father, how do I leave him to them, ridiculous isn’t it?” She stares out of the window … the sunset in the middle of these concrete walls looks so wane and pathetic, like her eyes do right now. What can Bela even say? Console her? It's not worth it. She has witnessed countless affairs like this all thanks to her job, it just looks pathetic… the clients themselves fall into these loops of grievances, lawyers can hardly console the subdued souls.

“Rest assured. I’m pretty good at it. You’ll get what you deserve. It’s getting late. We’ll meet three days later.” Well… that’s all Bela has to say at the end of the day.

Sweta chuckles and gestures her to wait. “I know right… I heard a lot about you, Miss. I’ll thank you later for your hard work. For now, take this Ice cream, a tiny compensation to the mess my son created earlier.” She hands her the ice cream, “It’s popsicle. Chocolate must not be to your liking. See you later.” Sweta waves and

leaves the restaurant. Bella keeps staring at the frozen popsicle, perplexed. One pastry in the morning, added one popsicle…. The dilemma of a diabetic lawyer. Still, gifts shouldn’t be wasted right?

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The first time Bela clashed with an ice cream, the second time a cold drink, and today, the third time… again clashes with a coffee, a hot one. This time though, the imp is the mother. This pair of mother and son sure is a catastrophe, both are in cahoots…. Bela’s eyes twitch.

“Looks like all our meetings are catastrophic. What should I compensate with this time? I’m totally running out of options here…” Bela never understands, how this woman can laugh in any situation… may be one day she’ll break her neck and would still laugh like a maniac lying in a hospital ward. The son is second Statue of Liberty, mute at times… but can sell you at the cheapest price. “No need for that. Let’s just get it over with. The court session is tomorrow. You should come well prepared.”

“You’re losing patience I guess, understandable. However... stick with me for a while more. I’ll compensate you fairly, promise.” She smiles again. Poking at where it hurts… “If you can read my mind that well… I don’t have to worry then. You’ll manage well tomorrow, won’t you?” Sweta’s smile falters for a

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moment, “May be…. I still hope you can accompany me though. Sometimes we need to add a bit of nourishment it seems, so that the fruit turns out to be juicy.” Her smile returns.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bela calmly bids her goodbye, before leaving she turns again, “Good luck.” The lady pauses and flashes a dim smile this time, nodding her head.

Bela never wakes up early on weekends. After the case finally came to a closure, she can move on to her next case sooner or later. For now all that matters is some thrilling and spicy Hollywood movies, relax and eat some pleasure foods. That is the plan, however as soon as her cell phone rings, the name on the screen seems quite familiar.

What else can she do? Ignoring is not an option anymore, she’s not petty enough to do that. The monster hunts Miss Sweta once again, in her nightmares and in daylight. Her smile never leaves those fuchsia tainted lips though. Bela thinks, the client has become a lot more demanding, not that she minds. She runs and bumps into the little imp Vikki, all over again. Much to her surprise tears are welling up in his eyes, face

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smeared with snot… and a few dark hand imprints are clearly visible on his pale skin. The boy hugs her, neither does she nag anymore. “Where’s your mother?” The boy sobs quietly and gestures towards the broken bathroom door. Bela knows. The older woman who always seems so invincible breaks down. Coming out of her hiding spot, Sweta embraces her one and only lawyer… desperately. Bela hugs her back. This is a downpour all three of them are meant to withstand together it seems. It doesn’t take long for Bela to throw the monster of a man to jail, at least for a next few years. After all is said and done, the smell of autumn still lingers somewhere between the two women. The scent gets stronger as begonias bloom and wither, then revive as if some floral counterparts. The whispers and flaunting laughs, shared sunsets and beaming moons, they reach one step closer….two steps closer… closer than ever. Bela tastes the sweetness that’s harmless and placid, like some sugar free cookies. She likes it, more than ever.

“Does my charming lawyer ever dreams about having kids? Like starting a family of your own, walking

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to a far distance hand in hand with your partner… what do you say?” It is a sudden move.

Sweta has these crazy twists to her tongue, making others be at a loss of words. Bela answers, “I do. That’d be a nice walk along the shore.” She looks at the clouds above, gonna rain soon, then turns back to the lady who is also staring at her… intently. Their shoulders touch as the last rays of crimson glimmers through the tiny chink between their locked lips. The sun sinks in harmony…. On their way to home, Sweta is humming something, Bela doesn’t hear though, a song perhaps. Sweta taps her wrist watch and waves at Bela, “…running out of time. Remember the promise my good Bela…” Then she disappears into the night.

The summer harvests most of the blossoms and it is a sweet morning. Bela wouldn’t mind some blue berry candies. But… the candy tastes somewhat bitter today. Bitter and cold…. cold enough to bring spasms to the ribs. She saw her figure just three days ago, and three days later… all her being and promises ceases to smithereens. Sweta’s funeral. The three entities together, Bela, the little son and her old, sick mother. Miss Sweta is bygone now… never did she talk about her

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glioblastoma. She once said, “All of my parched years in boundless desert, you’re the only oasis I came across. I’m grateful. Really….” Yes. Bela understands now. The little imp clasps at Bela, she does the same. “Let’s go. Together… we can make a home.” -----------

By Niharika Goswami