‘The Horror! The Horror!’ by Purbali Sengupta Mitra

It was in the wee hours of a wintry night that Asma felt her first contraction. Before the second one could overpower her, Asma sluggishly elbowed Chatur, her husband lying half-dead on the floor beside her. Sleep generally claims Chatur and renders him unconscious. The name ‘Chatur’ signifies ‘a shrewd person’ in the local language but if you look at Chatur’s history you would be stunned to see the contradiction. Disowned by his wealthy parents for marrying outside his faith, Chatur was further ostracized in the social circles. As an outcast he was compelled to live with his Muslim wife Asma in a colony of untouchables, somewhere at the fringes of the city. Love had not only damaged his well-being but also numbed his senses. It had also been three years since the wedlock that the couple had been attempting parenthood. This was Asma’s fourth pregnancy, the last three were either aborted or were stillborn creatures. It was different though this time, heeding the doctor’s advice Chatur was compelled to take care of his young bride. Naturally, he wasted no time in transporting Asma with her swollen belly to a maternity care unit at the nearest hospital. 

Hours later, as the labour room cries died out, Chatur was greeted with unexpected tidings. A healthy son had emerged from Asma’s disfigured womb. The doctors had to conduct a last minute surgery on the mother which further aggravated her physical state. It was suggested that the patient remain under medical care for a few more days. Chatur was on cloud nine with his new-found state of fatherhood, Asma’s health scare was not something he was willing to focus on, at the moment. This was the best truce that he could eventually offer his alienated parents, he reflected. His new-born son was the best bait for reconciliation; he knew how this could lead to his regaining inheritance and subsequently his lost social standing. After all, Chatur truly comprehended all these years how his marrying Asma was an irreversible blunder.

Weeks passed but Asma’s condition showed no signs of repair. Meanwhile, Chatur brought his infant son home, a kind neighbour offered him care and aid. But this time, Chatur’s agitation courted a new cause: Asma’s degrading health and the mounting hospital expenses. To satiate both ends, Chatur took up a second job as a security personnel. During the day he would serve a construction company as a wage labour while nights kept him occupied as security staff at a corporate office. And all the while, at home, Surya grew with unusual vigour and ferocity. But when the kind neighbour finally realised that her extension of help was a mode of exploitation of her goodness and gentle nature, she promptly stopped functioning as a caregiver. 

Little did Chatur know that the next few days would alter his life dramatically.

The day Babita decided to stop taking care of Surya, turned out to be the most eventful day in Chatur’s existence. That afternoon Chatur had to rush to the hospital after receiving news of Asma’s respiratory collapse, and when the doctors suggested she be immediately put on a ventilator, Chatur experienced no guilt in his blatant refusal. Though a tottering financial status and lack of tangible medical insurance were proposed as valid grounds behind the denial, the doctors and staff had no difficulty sensing the strong apathy and deep bitterness that triggered Chatur’s monumental decision. That very evening, while waiting in the hospital lobby, counting the hour for his present wife Asma to pass away, Chatur had an epiphanic vision of his future wife Babita. After all, he had to devise the best possible plan to secure his son’s survival. Marrying Babita, under the present circumstances, would be the cleverest thing to do, that way he could buy a mother for Surya and simultaneously win his parent’s hearts by re-marrying back into his faith. And it was then that Chatur comprehended how his name was not a misnomer after all; in fact it was Asma and his blind love for her that had clouded his wisdom all these years. At 8 in the evening when Asma was declared dead, Chatur found a strange feeling of emancipation slowly and peacefully embracing him. While accompanying Asma’s corpse to the local cemetery late that night, Chatur tried his best to avoid catching any glimpse of the parched and withered face of his dead wife. Immediately after the final rites were over, he rushed home. He had requested Babita to take care of his son until his return. And Chatur knew that if he did not pour out his heart to Babita that night, he would have to die a pauper’s death.

Babita was born to a poor Marathi couple who passed away in a tragic rail accident the year Chatur and Asma arrived as newlyweds in the colony. Babita who was 19 at the time managed to navigate the volatility of her circumstance by holding on to a call centre job offered by a distant benefactor. Since then Babita was a beacon of light for many strugglers and aspirants in the neighbourhood, many looked up to her for her self-made stature and financial security.

Though Babita herself had always admired her own autonomy and independent status in spite of the untimely demise of her parents, yet the thought of her safety in a colony full of goons often crossed her mind. So when Chatur bared his ailing heart, Babita saw reason in the wedding deal. Babita was elated to find a readymade family served on the platter offered to her; nursing Chatur’s son had already triggered her maternal instincts. The wedding was thus a timely deal breaker for the couple, while the union of convenience cemented Babita’s safety in the colony and granted her asylum in Chatur’s family; for Chatur the arrangement meant the world; not only did it secure him his son’s inheritance in the line of family, it also successfully lured his alienated parents back. That his name had a striking symbolism to his real life escapades in the scheme of things was well warranted by all around him, friends, family and neighbours congratulated his parents for naming him appropriately: common sense had finally found Chatur, they applauded. 

                                                               ……………………..

It was exactly a month later when Babita realised that her marriage was a sham. Every evening when she returned to her in-law’s palatial abode, she felt a strange yearning. Babita longed to return back to her one room shanty in the colony and among her humble neighbours; she cajoled and coaxed Chatur to change his mind. Chatur, her husband was a changed person by then. Not only did he abandon his job but he also became a strict recluse and a heavy drinker. There was also a constant pressure on Babita to give up her call centre job, now that Chatur’s parents financially supported the young couple. When Babita comprehended how her fabulous marriage was breaking apart, she promptly refused Chatur’s nightly advances for sex. And if anything kept her going, it was her inherited son for whose sake Babita maintained the appearance of sanity. Over time, she started hearing and seeing weird spectacles at her in-law’s place. These were in the form of hoarse whispers in the dark corridors at night, or quivering shadows on the bedroom walls or even stifled shrieks in the adjoining lavatory. However, it appeared that Babita alone witnessed these sights and sounds. And then one night, she had this terrible nightmare that rendered her completely unstable. In her nightmare Babita saw a vivid image of Asma making love with Chatur on the same bed where Babita lay shackled to the bed posts. Asma dressed in a hospital gown, emaciated and pale, had an oxygen mask and an IV drip fastened to her. Yet, as Babita uncomfortably glared at the erotic sex act staged in her nightmare, it struck her how profoundly connected the love-making pair was to each other. 

It was also exactly a month later when Chatur realised that his marriage was a sham. Though Babita was a good mother to his new born son, her behaviour towards his parents was not as obliging as a traditional Indian bride. He found it quite challenging to tame the shrew, because unlike Asma, Babita was educated and had a job. Her insistence on returning to the colony and her old life had become tedious rants for Chatur. Moreover, Babita’s repeated claims of seeing apparitions in his parent’s house sounded like fabricated pieces to her existing master narrative. The tipping point of the fall-out was of course Babita’s refusal to make love. Chatur had noticed how Babita catered to her male clientele over the phone in a seductive voice, he had also noticed how she pursed her lips and forced a smile when Chatur touched her. One of these days, in a drunken fit, Chatur had attempted raping his wife, twice she had escaped from his clutches but on one occasion he could successfully force himself on her. However, that one time proved to be a terrifying ordeal for Chatur; though he had shackled Babita to the bedpost, throughout the execution of the violent act, all he could perceive was Asma’s ghastly face miraculously superimposed on Babita’s contorted one. Shortly after this, one night, Chatur had this terrible nightmare that rendered him completely unstable. A vivid image of his two wives, Asma and Babita appeared in his nightmare, almost in each other’s arms, both of them stark naked, only the oxygen mask and IV drip were fastened to Asma’s wrinkled form. As Chatur froze in his sleep witnessing the incredible vision unfold behind his closed eyes, he detected a faint grimace on both their faces, a grimace that slowly turned into a loud guffaw and a toothless, guttural shriek. The moment Chatur opened his eyes and recovered the nightmare, he threw himself on his wife, though he could hardly remember which one. The next morning Babita was found strangled on her bed, her eyes wide open, captured in a breathless stare at the ceiling. Her in-laws accused her of infidelity, the act probably a murder by one of her many lovers. Chatur’s body was found a day later, drowned in the backyard well; hands and feet shackled and the mouth gagged. His eyes too were wide open, captured in a breathless stare. Both the murders remain unsolved till this day.

An art 'Woman at Her Toilette' (1875–80) by Berthe Morisot
Art: ‘Woman at Her Toilette’ (1875–80) by Berthe Morisot

About the Author

A photograph of Purbali Sengupta Mitra.

Completed Masters in English and French Literature from Visva Bharati (2002) and received training in 5 European languages from Folkuniversitet, Stockholm. Worked as Interpreter and language instructor in Stockholm for 4 years. Have worked as Assistant Professor in English and French Literature at School of liberal arts and culture studies, Adamas University, Kolkata for 3.5 years. Presently employed as Assistant Professor in Linguistics at Maulana Abul Kalam Azad University of Technology, Kolkata.

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One response to “‘The Horror! The Horror!’ by Purbali Sengupta Mitra”

  1. Simon Avatar
    Simon

    his writer deserves a medal but also some “counselling”. This is a great masterpiece, but it is also traumatic.

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