Non-Erotic Dawn at Midnight By Pinuram - {Completed}

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I read this story long time ago on xossip. Somehow, this story captured my heart. After xossip was shut down I was unable to find this story. I hope there are a lot of members here who have read this story and also those who haven't. I would like to post this story written by Pinuram. Thank you. A sequel to Forbidden Love {To understand the pain of love, friendship, hardship, devotion, sacrifice and to enjoy this part, the readers should read "Forbidden Love" first. That was one side of the coin. & "Dawn at Midnight" is the other side of the coin.}.


THIS STORY IS NOT A LOVE STORY OR AN EROTIC STORY. THIS IS A STORY OF LIFE.


मेरी फितरत नही किसी की चीज़ को अपने नाम करू...


so as i always say... All credit goes to unsung original writer... Pinuram
 
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THIS STORY IS NOT A LOVE STORY OR AN EROTIC STORY. THIS IS A STORY OF LIFE.


Author's Note: All the characters in the story are above the age of 18. I have taken the liberty of narrating the story from the lips of the main characters so as to depict each of their feelings and thoughts.

The story is a little lengthy and I would request the readers to kindly bear with me on this issue.

NOTE: THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION. ANY RESEMBLANCE OF CHARACTERS AND INCIDENTS WITH ANY PERSON LIVING OR DEAD IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

NOTE FOR READERS : THOSE WHO WANT ONLY EROTICISM, I HAVE A REQUEST TO ALL OF THEM THAT PLEASE DON'T READ THIS STORY. THIS WILL NOT SATISFY THEIR NEEDS.
 
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Introduction:

This story will be updated slowly. I don't want to post the whole chapter in one go. It will be like a lotus unfurling its petals slowly in the rays of morning sun.


The protagonist is a female. She lost her love due to guile values of the society and families around her. She walks on the unpaved coarse path of life, trying to cope with the world around her. She gets lost while walking her path. Lots of people comes in her life, some shows her dreams some uses her.

To understand her pains and feelings, one has to step in her shoes and walk with her. The writer hopes that the depiction of her life would be life like and the writer will try with utmost effort to bring out those feelings in her and give proper justification to her story.

Several points in this whole story might look like loose ends, life has their loose ends that is why it is called life and we don't have explanation to most of the things. Why that happened, why not this? No one has explanation as why sun rises from east or why the earth has to be round or why the crow is black or why lion has to eat meat.

To understand the pain of love, friendship, hardship, devotion, sacrifice and to enjoy this part, the readers should read "Forbidden Love" first. That was one side of the coin.

"Dawn at Midnight" is the other side of the coin.
 
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Part 1: Transmigration
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Chapter 1: Princess in an ivory cage (#1)
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“Mita, what are you going to buy for this Puja?” Teesta asked me.

I shook my head “Nothing, dear. Whatever ChotoMa will buy for me, I will wear.”

“You are terrible” Teesta laughed at me, playfully slapped my cheeks.

I squeezed my nose and looked at her---“Why? What dress are you going to wear this Puja?”

She whispered in my ears---“If my new boyfriend allows me to wear anything then only I could wear dresses.”

I winked at her and asked---“Hmmmm…. Naughty girl. Who is this new guy?”

She winked at me---“Why? Are you going to steal him from me?”

I shook my head and laughed at her “No Teesta. Keep yours inside wherever you want.”

She whispered in my ears again, voice filled up with mischief---“Let me taste him first and then you can have him.”

I slapped her softly---“Jah! Why should I taste the leftovers?”

She gave a queer look at me and asked---“Why? Have you found someone?”

I shook my head and laughed at her---“Naah! Re Baba. I don’t have that luxury. My Babu and ChotoMa will kill me, if they come to know.”

##
 
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It was Friday; I was waiting for the bus at the College Street bus-stand. Just came out of Presidency College to travel back home. I was in my usual dress, in my usual cotton salwar suit. The jute bag


containing my books and notebooks were on my left shoulder. I was frequently looking on my left wrist, the titan watch. I was probably getting late for my home. I could feel prying eyes of those

passers-by looking at me as I waited there. I wrapped the dupatta all over my upper torso and clasped the jute bag on my chest to hide my treasures from those prying lewd eyes of the onlookers.

It was strict order from my Babu and ChotoMa to return to home before the night fall.

ChotoMa was actually my distant cousin sister Ulupi Di. Although she was my cousin sister but she was about the age of my mom. I called her Choto Ma (younger mother) because during my

childhood days she breastfed me when my father died and my mom always cried. She took me in her arms and gave me warmth in the cold night, sang me lullaby while I slept peacefully on her lap.

My life was in debt to her. I addressed my brother-in-law as Babu (pet name for a father). I never knew the love of my father. My father passed away when I was only two and half years old, so I tried

to wring every tiny drop of affection whatever Babu showered on me.

During my youngest brother, Subroto’s marriage, ChotoMa was invited to my home so that I could pursue M.Sc. and due to her I was then standing at that bus-stand waiting for my bus.

I got admitted in Presidency College in the beginning of September 2001, after the results of B.Sc was declared. ChotoMa and Babu tried hard for my admission in Presidency College for my M.Sc. and

I got admission with my major in Nuclear Physics.

I knew it very well that that Puja Vacation would be the most painful among the past twenty-five Durga Puja’s that I had enjoyed till then. Everywhere the air was filled up with vibrant ambience of

Puja Vacation. Durga Puja was to come in October. People were roaming on the streets buying new dresses for themselves and for their near and dear ones. The sky was cobalt blue with tuft of white

clouds floating around. The weather was pleasant as the monsoon left Kolkata just few weeks back. The aroma of the Puja was drowning the air around me.

I stood silently waiting for my bus and Teesta was talking with someone on her cell-phone. I didn’t have that luxury of having a cell-phone then. The bus arrived at last and we boarded.

We all had spare keys except ChotoMa as she used to arrive late. As I entered my house, I found Babu was reading the newspaper in his room. Babu retired last month from Airport Authority of India,

DumDum Airport. He was Senior Manager in his organization the time he retired. He was very strict and disciplined and he tried to maintain that very discipline also at home.

Babu asked me in his usual deep tone---“ShonaMa; how was your college today?”

I answered quietly ---“It was ok Babu. I was unable to get the bus in time, all were very crowded coming from Howrah station.”

He asked for a cup of tea ---“ShonaMa, can you please make a cup of tea for me?”

---“Ok Babu.”

That was everyday’s question from Babu. Every day I came home after college I had to answer the same question. At times he used to call me as ShonaMa (golden girl) also. But that name was called

by him only when he was in good mood.

I changed my dress to my usual cotton dressing gown and walked into the kitchen.

I took out the saucepan from the cupboard and poured water in that saucepan.

The water was boiling and I was lost in my thoughts again. The water vapours were flowing all over my face and my eyes were day dreaming again.

All the colours from my life were gone by a small wrong move. Life was like sixty-four squares of chess, thirty-two whites and thirty-two blacks. A person once told me. I felt life-less as corpse after

the most beloved person of my life was taken away from me. That person was banished from his own house. What was his fault? What did he do? He loved me. He breathed soul in my life-less,

colour-less life. Took me to the mountains and played with me like a child. In winter nights, I felt most secure in his arms. His only fault was that he loved me. He was younger than me by two years

and he was the son of ChotoMa.

Perhaps no one would understand our love.

He screamed his heart out, trying to pacify ChotoMa that age was not a factor and neither had we had any blood relation. But it was the prestige and snobbishness of my ChotoMa and the relatives

that made a guile wall of so called society and their responsibilities, around us.

They were very much protective about me. The room on the second floor was locked away forever. I was not even allowed to goto the roof. Every small traces of him were erased away from the walls,

from the ceiling, from the doors and windows of that house. His old books were sold away; his old clothes were given away to beggars or to the utensil-vendors. No new person could tell that my

ChotoMa had a son in her life; everyone knew that I was their only daughter.

ChotoMa took away the cream shawl from me after he left. The only trace that I kept secretly along with me was his brown diary. It was my “Bible”, my “Koran” and my “Gita”. There is an old saying

that “It is always dark, just under the lamp.” so I covered that diary with a brown paper and kept that along with other books in my bookshelf. I marked that diary as “Optics Notebook”. Optics was his

favourite paper.

--
 
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After he left the house no one talked about him. I was asked to keep my door open even during night. Probably ChotoMa thought that I could have harmed myself somehow. I was a small town girl; I


didn’t have that courage or stupidity to take my life. I accepted my fate and tried to live like a corpse then.

I could not even cry properly. Every time there was a pair of prying eyes hovering on me. The only time I was left alone was in the bathroom. Several thousands of time I banged my head on the mirror

and tried to break that mirror so that somehow the glass pierce in my head and my life comes to an abrupt untimely end. Alas! The mirror was also not in my favour.

Just then Babu called me again ---“ShonaMa is the tea ready? I have to goto market.”

I answered from the kitchen, while pouring one teaspoon of tea in that boiling water.

---“Just a minute Babu; almost done.”

Probably a drop of my tear also got mixed in that saucepan of boiling water. I wiped my nose and my face with the back of my hand and filtered the tea in a cup.

I walked to his room and kept the cup on his table. Babu was still reading the newspaper.

Without even looking at me he said to me---“Tomorrow your ChotoMa will take you for shopping to ShaymBazar for Puja. What do you want this time?”

I scratched the side of the table with my long finger nails and stood silently.

He looked at me; my long eyelashes were still deluged probably. He clenched his jaws and got up from his chair.

“I will goto market only after your ChotoMa arrives. I think that will be better.” His voice sounded stone cold in my ears.

He walked out to the drawing room and switched on the TV.

He handed me the newspaper and said---“If you don’t have to do anything now then read The Statesman. This will make your English vocabulary strong.”

Just then the doorbell ranged, I climbed down the stairs to open the door. It was time for ChotoMa to arrive from her school.

Yes I was right; it was ChotoMa standing at the door. She looked at me and nudged my chin.

---“How is my Paree today? Your college was fine.”

I had to give a faint smile as she walked in.

While climbing up the stairs she asked me---“Where is your Babu?”

I answered---“He is in the drawing room watching TV and sipping tea.”

There was a tone of anger in her voice ---“I asked him to goto market. There are no vegetables in the freeze; still he is sipping the tea. What has happened to this old man?”

I had nothing to answer, so I walked into my room silently. I lay on the bed and pulled a bedcover over me. My heart raced again to the thoughts of those beautiful past and my vision got dampened. I

bit my right finger so as to suppress my spasms overflowing my heart.

ChotoMa came into my room---“Why are you lying on bed at this time? Don’t lie down in the evening.”

My chest cried out “Can’t I have some time alone with myself, ChotoMa?” But I could not speak those words. Those words remained inside me forever, no one heard that.

I wiped my face and went into bathroom to wash my face.

During the dinner, ChotoMa said to me that she would take me for shopping the other day. I was not at all interested. Why should I buy new clothes? For whom should I wear new dresses? Who was

there to praise me? There was no meaning left in my life for joy.

Babu asked---“Paree what happened? You are so quiet today?”

I shook my head to tell them that nothing had happened and I was ok. But was I really ok? Was I really fine, with what had happened. Who knew that the rupture in my heart will not heal and was

broken into thousands of pieces?

I went into the bathroom to fresh up myself, applied the apricot face-wash on my cheeks. I looked at my cheeks, the rosy tint was gone. There was a pale look on my face. I brushed my teeth. I looked

at my lips; it was rosy but was that really rosy? No it was pale yellow. Was I having jaundice? No it was not due to jaundice. All colours of my life were washed away. The rosy cheeks, red lips, big

black eyes. Every colour was gone from my life.
 
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Before retiring to my room, ChotoMa reminded me again---“Don’t lock the door from inside.”


I lay on the huge bed alone and closed my eyes. I could not sleep for a long time. Before he went away he ignited a fire inside my heart and that fire used to haunt me every night. I unhooked my inner

wear from my bust and pressed the pillow hard on my chest. I bit the soft pillow between my teeth and cried and cried and cried. The dark night haunted me. The branches of the trees swayed near

my windows. They used to beckon me as a pair of evil hands. Most of the nights his memoirs kept me writhe in pain and I spent numerous sleepless nights just by counting the stars in the sky.

Next day morning ChotoMa and I went for shopping at ShaymBazar. She asked me to buy whatever I liked. I had to put a veil on my heart and always kept a smile on my face.

She bought two very beautiful salwars for me, one was of yellow and red and the other was of turquoise blue. She bought a white and brown coloured Zamdani saree for herself. She asked me to buy

some expensive saree. She asked the shopkeeper to show us lots of varieties and at last I choose a Kantha-Stich saree. A cream coloured china-silk with Kantha-Stich all over that saree. The thick

border attracted me very much. It was decorated with lots of elephants and lotus all weaved in threads.

ChotoMa then took me to BowBazar for buying ornaments.

She nudged my chin with her fingers---“I had to prepare for my Paree’s wedding from now on.”

I smiled faintly at her.

On seeing my smile she patted softly on my cheeks---“My sweet daughter. Keep that smile on your face always. You have grown up now.”

I said to her---“Can we go home today? I don’t want to buy any gold ornaments now, please.”

She nodded her head---“Hmmmm….. Ok but next time we had to buy something. This is the second time we came to buy something but returning empty handed.”

Yes, it was the second time we were returning empty handed. First time he was with us and we came for shopping. That day he made me buy jeans and t-shirt. But that was a different situation.

One day I asked Babu for a cell-phone. He gave a queer look and asked “Why do you want that?”

I said---“All my friends have cell-phone, only I don’t have.”

He looked at me for sometime---“If I give you cell-phone then you will chat with your friends all the time.”

I pleaded to him like a small child---“Please, please, please Babu. I promise you that I will not chat for long hours.”

He smiled at me---“Ok. Let your ChotoMa come then I and you will goto shop and you can choose.” He cautioned me “Only four hundred rupees recharge for a month, not more than that.”

I threw my arms around Babu’s neck---“My Sweet Babu. Do you want a cup of tea?”

He smiled at me affectionately---“So ShonaMa is bribing me, right? Sure, I would love to sip tea anytime if my ShonaMa gives.”

In the evening, after ChotoMa arrived, Babu said her that I was asking for a cell-phone and he had promised me that he would buy me one.

ChotoMa asked me---“Why do you want a cell-phone?”

Babu answered on my behalf---“Oh! Come on Ulupi. Paree is now going to college and doing M.Sc. She has grown up. She is twenty-six years old.”

ChotoMa yelled at Babu---“That’s the main problem. She is twenty-six years old. Only a mother understands what happens when her daughter is beautiful and young and unmarried.”

She looked at me and said---“You have to show me the call logs every day.”

I was furious on hearing that, I yelled at her---“Can’t I have some liberty in my life?”

Babu looked at me. His gaze pierced deep in my soul.

Again I heard his stone cold voice---“There was enough liberty given to you, Paree. Think what you have done with all those liberty.”

I screamed my lungs out and slammed the door of my room behind me---“I don’t want a cell-phone.”
 
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Few days before Mahalaya, starting of Durga Puja, I was watching the TV in the drawing room.

Babu walked into the drawing room and asked me to sign a court paper. I asked him as what was that. He told me that that paper was a legal paper for legal guardianship.

He said---“You mother has given the consent and she has signed the papers.”

I looked at him and then signed on the court paper. After that legally I became the princess of the emperor and the empress.

My days were gloom and nights were painful.

I lived a life of a beautiful princess locked in a beautiful ivory cage of an emperor and empress. I got all the materialistic happiness whatever I wanted. Good clothes, beautiful ornaments. Every

morning and evening they fed me with nuts and honey and several fine delicacies.

But I was still a pet scarlet princess imprisoned in a beautiful ivory cage.

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Chapter 2: A river named Teesta


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First day of my college, my heart was thumping like a huge drum inside my chest as I entered the gate of Presidency College. Babu came with me till the gate of the college on the first day. I asked few

students loitering along the corridor for the class room of M.Sc. Physics. They showed me.

That day I wore a white long skirt with small blue dots all over and a white frilled shirt with blue pinstripes. As usual I carried my black stole along with me, wrapped around my neck. My jute bag was

on my left shoulder and my long tress was tied in a bun behind the back of my head, softly caressing my nape and as I did in my college days, I had a pen in my bun.

I felt few prying pair of eyes, caressed me all over as I walked into the class room. I looked at those eyes and gave them sleek smile. As I entered the class-room, I heard some male voice from the

corridor---“Oh! Guru. What a cut-piece, masterpiece.”

Few heads turned towards me. I looked around the bunch of students. Mostly were boys, few girls were there in the class. On the second bench there was a wheatish complexioned girl. She was

chatting with few other fellow students sitting on the third bench. She looked at me and smiled and signed me to come and sit beside her.

I quietly went and sat beside her.

She said to me---“The way you entered the class, clearly suggest that you are new in Kolkata. Where do you live?”

I answered---“DumDum.”

She shook her head in disbelief---“Oh! Come on. You are from DumDum?”

I smiled at her and nodded at her “Yes.”

She introduced herself as---“I am Teesta Sarkar, from Lake Town and you?”

I smiled at her openness---“I am Suchismita Mondal.”

---“I guessed that. Your smile is really beautiful.”

Oh! My God, a girl was complimenting me. I turned pink in coy and laughed at her.

---“Dhaat Tere ki. Have you gone mad?”

She winked at me---“Wanna bunk the first period and goto Coffee House?”

I shook my head saying that “No, I want to attend the first period at least.”

She pointed at another girl sitting on the third bench, who was also listening to our conversation.

---“She is Delisha Khatun, from Park Circus.”

Truly speaking, I didn’t expect a ***** Girl pursuing M.Sc. in Physics. She was very fair. Rosy white in complexion, wore a dark blue salwar and a black hijab covering her head.

I asked her---“Do you have to wear this head-scarf always.”

She waved her hand at me---“Aree, Na, Yaar. Dad insisted, but my mom resisted him, saying that I was old enough to take care of myself.”

Someone from behind the class shouted at us---“Oh! Guru. Today, the wooden bench will catch fire.”

I looked over my shoulder as who spoke those words at us.

Teesta shouted at him---“G****, keep your foul mouth shut.” and pointed her right middle finger at him.

She said to me---“Don’t look at him.”

I gave a queer look at her as if asking “Who was he?”

---“He is Debobroto, from my previous college. Anyways he is good in Physics, mainly quantum mechanics.”

I looked at the person named Debobroto. He was tall, dark with specs on his eyes. Clean shaven, back brushed hair, squint eyes. Nose was bit small. He sat with his arms outstretched resting on the

bench behind him. His arms were strong and muscular. I could feel his tough chest muscles from the unbuttoned blue and white check shirt and white vest.

I raised my right hand and waved my fingers at him, he smiled at me. He pointed his right index finger and middle finger at me and signed like shooting a pistol.

Teesta saw as what Debobroto did and she smiled at me---“He killed you on the first day, baby?”

Somehow I smiled at her---“I don’t have the luxury of getting killed, dear.”

I said to myself “I am already a corpse. Who can kill a person who is already dead?”
 

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