the clay doll

the clay doll...

Shantanu would return every time from office tour with one thing or other for Anjum. Eight years had gone by since they tied hands in nuptial knot but still no one had arrived yet to add to their family... Visits to the doctors revealed no malfunction in either of the two. It is not that they are overtly bothered by that. Only when Shantanu goes out to tours and Anjum literally lives alone in their two bed-roomed flat, she feels kind of lonely and in these lonely moments Anjum thinks more about having a baby.
This time from Bankura Shantanu has brought a beautiful clay doll...a figurine to be precise, of a danseuse.
The figurine is almost three feet in height and so perfectly sculpted that she looks very real...very perfect...perfect poise of a dancer, dressed in saree and choli...wrapped around her in such a manner as if her physical grace of being a woman with hour glass figure is magnified to the extreme of being slightly tempting.But it is only a clay figurine...a doll upon which the artist had poured all of his imagination of beauty.
Anjum had placed it on a small wooden platform right at their bedroom. Shantanu had suggested to keep the doll at the living, but Anjum thought it would steal all the show there. People might admire it too much and might ask too many questions about it. Apart from that Anjum thought it could become an object to look at and admire, to pass leisure time, for her.

So the figurine stayed at their bedroom. Occasionally Shantanu would crack a joke about the figurine becoming a real by some providence and he being her ardent admirer.
'Then you would even forget me?'
Anjum would ask playfully, expecting that Shantanu would just make a rebuff.
But to her surprise, he only uttered, 'Who knows? women...particularly dancers...are famous for stealing hearts of men...aren't they?'
Anjum nodded, without expressing her choice or option or idea. She just nodded thoughtfully.
Shantanu perhaps took a note of the sudden overshadowing of grimness upon Anjum's countenance.
So he at once gathered himself and spoke aloud:
'Come'n! I can't go to anyone when I'm so much tied with you darling!'
'I know...'Said Anjum, but she knew within something was missing in her voice...that strong sense of conviction which had been there in her voice even a few years ago...was not there.

'Am I losing my self confidence?'
That night Anjum thought looking at her breasts on the bathroom mirror.
'They have sagged a bit...but am I not still beautiful?' Anjum looked at her waist trying to tug little bit of flab that had accumulated there over the last few years...
Coming out of the bathroom, and upon entering the bedroom, she found Shantanu watching a football match.
'Is the match really very important?'
Anjum asked, looking at the watch which showed it was eleven fifteen.
'Nah!...Would switch it off soon...would have to wake up early tumro...would have to go to Midnapore...'
Shantanu said yawning.
'Midnapore tomorrow? you just returned from Bankura yesterday!'
Anjum was surprised. She thought she would do some shopping with Shantanu this weekend.
'When will you return?'
Anjum asked, trying to take a glance at Shantanu, half lying on the bed, through the dressing mirror.
'Within two days...for sure!'
Shantanu replied, yawning again.
Anjum switched off the light and got on to the bed.
'Feeling bad?'
Shantanu asked, running his fingers into Anjum's hair, slowly.
Anjum said nothing. She just closed her eyes.
'What about a little bit of sexplay tonight?'
Shantanu asked, softly, with a tone of hesitation.
Anjum had that pining within her as well. Shantanu had returned from Bankura after five days.
She untied the gown lace.
Shantanu started caressing her.
The night justifiably should have become a night of love.
But only after a few munutes, Shantanu started yawning again, losing the tempo midway.
'You must be feeling sleepy? aren't you?'
Anjum asked.
'Yeah...actually didn't intend to go all the way...'
Shantanu uttered, putting a hapless face.
'Okay...sleep off...'
Anjum said, though she had the upsurge within her. There was a strong lower abdominal tingling and she knew she craved for what exactly. But Shantanu had already taken the bolster and slept off.
'When we would have a baby? Shantanu? I want a baby...do you hear me?'
Anjum muttered, somewhat clumsily, not being sure whether she would wake him up to ask the query.
Shantanu's snoring replied her query in a mocking tone.

Sleepless, Anjum looked at the clay figurine. The soft orange light from the night lamp shade fell on it in a slanted manner, accentuating its prolific feminine charms...specially its exaggerated bosom and hip.
Anjum looked at the figurine and god knows why, she instead of admiring it, kind of became envious of its presence at their bedroom.
'So you look at me, mocking huh?'
Anjum asked the figurine, in an unheard manner.
She kept on looking at the figurine for some time and finally dozed off.
Soon she plunged into a dream.
She saw she had become a danseuse, exactly like that clay doll. She wrapped in a peacock green saree was dancing and from an unknown source a music was emanating...an exotic kind of music....and she was dancing to it...the more vigorous her dance became, the more her saree got untied from her...her choli got loosened...but she kept on dancing...then she became a nude figure dancing...and then suddenly the music stopped and she also stopped like a statuette, a nude figure cast in clay...and then everything started falling off...her limbs...her hair...her body parts...they fell and got strewn across the floor.
Utterly horrified, Anjum woke up with a cry...
It was almost dawn then. The first rays of light was seeping through the silk curtain of the bedroom window. She first looked at the figurine. There it was standing still on the wooden pedestal as it should be. Then she looked at Shantanu. He was in deep sleep. His hairy chest was going up and down with the rhythm of his inhalation and exhalation.
She got down from bed, had a glass of water, switched off the bedside lamp and went to the bathroom.

Shantanu had reached Midnapore town at five in the afternoon. Soon after reaching the hotel he called. Anjum had not said anything about the disturbing dream she had last night. For these two nights she had asked Malati to stay at their flat. Whenever Shantanu goes for a tour, Malati usually stays.
Post dinner, Anjum watched a soap for some time and then went to bed.
Malati would be sleeping in the adjoining room.
Lying on the bed, Anjum felt an unease.
'If I again have a dream like last night's?'
She thought and in order to keep her mind free from all eerie thoughts, she plugged on the earphone to listen to some music.
She chose Kenny G first but soon a melancholia started gripping her. So she shifted to Josh Groban.
Josh Groban is always heart warming. He is always pleasant.
But then when she thought she would be dozing off to the kingdom of sleep, without any untoward hiccup, she felt the figurine was moving, making strange noise on the floor. At once, Anjum jerked off from bed, switched on the light. Everything was okay. Not an inch the figurine had moved.
'I must be dreaming again!'
Anjum heaved a sigh and started thinking how to get rid of this curious fix.
Then she thought of an idea.
'What about moving this darn thing away from bedroom?'
Without wasting much time she started pulling the figurine out. It was heavy. A three feet solid clay model should never be featherlight.
Still she pushed and pulled. It started to move. She pushed further. A screeching sound was being produced by the effort.
'Malati could wake up! Oh! what do I care for someone's sleep when I am not sleeping properly?'
Anjum thought and gave the thing a mighty push. The thing got slanted first and even before Anjum could do anything, the figurine fell and got broken into several earthly pieces.
'OH! My god!'
The crash was good enough to bring Malati to the room, winking and twitching her eyes.
'Nothing happened Malati...just the statuette fell and got broken....can you please broom the floor for me?'
Anjum asked, looking helpless and yet authoritative.

Early next morning Anjum called Shantanu.
'Good morning! how was your sleep last night?'
She asked Shantanu the first thing.
'Oh! it was wonderful! You know my work wrapped up almost and I am returning today!'
Shantanu had elation in his voice.
'Really? that's great!'
Anjum was definitely happy.
'And you know...I got a present for you this time as well!'
Shantanu tweeted like a love sick male pigeon.
'Really? what's that?'
'A clay doll...of a rustic tribal woman, breast-feeding her baby...'
Shantanu replied.
Hearing the word 'Clay doll' Anjum would have cried out against it, but then she thought Shantanu had said it was a mother feeding her baby...a mother breast feeding her baby...
'Lovely!'
Anjum tweeted, love sick just like her husband...and even more...she felt time had finally come for them to be endowed with a baby...a real baby...borne out of them...their genes...otherwise, how come Shantanu could think of such a present?