To my Fanny Browne

Posted by Subhajit Ghosh on Sunday July 23, @03:26PM

I first saw her on a Saturday. I had gone for some essential work in the Administrative building of the University After completion of my work, I ambled towards the embarkment point of the University buses. I managed a seat and soon made myself comfortable. After a while when the bus had just begun to move I saw a group of students hurriedly enter inside. By then, all the seats had been filled up, and these new entrants were compelled to stand during the journey. Some of them soon ventured inside the bus and they were now standing very near to my seat. A girl stood standing in my vicinity, and she was draped in a green sweater and jeans trouser. She was talking with a boy, possibly her classmate and she continued doing so for the most part of the journey. Some of their conversation reached my ears. They were talking in my mother's tongue. I happened to see the girl's face. She was beautiful. Bob-cut hair with a pointed noise and a visage reflecting her aristocratic upbringing, she looked gorgeous. I felt myself drawn towards her. ******* ********** *********** ********** ********

Three months later. I didn't see much of her during these months. She disappeared from my thoughts. And my mundane existence continued.

Generally I return quite late from office. Usually I always take the last bus. Sunit also occasionally returns with me by the same bus. On one such day, we were idly chatting inside the bus in a low voice.

"Aren't you going to get married?," Sunit asked me.

"Sunit, I am not against marriage, but I would like to know a girl reasonably well before committing myself for such a relationship," I replied.

"What're you looking for in a girl?," Sunit continued.

I scratched my head uncomfortably and replied "Well, a bit of looks, manners and education."

Said he, "Man, it's a gamble! Love marriages often crumble as do arranged marriages." I nodded in approval.

"Would you like to marry some homely girl?"

I replied "Nope."

"Tell me, then, who's your ideal woman?," Sunit carried on naggingly.

"It's difficult to pinpoint anyone, but look at that girl sitting next to you in the bus," I whispered.

"Yes," Sunit said "the girl is strikingly beautiful. I had been observing her and her friends for quite a while in the bus today. They were talking in Banglish ( a mixture of Bengali and English). She seems to have a good pedigree too, I am sure about that."

"Do you know what she's studying?" I asked curiously.

"No," came Sunit's reply.

"She is looking ravishing in her pink salwar kameez, isn't she?"

"Yes," I replied.

Sunit said, " If you're interested, I can help you. I am sure she stays in the University hostel, and I know quite a few chaps in the hostel."

Initially I was vacillating, but soon I decided to take Sunit's help in order to befriend her. ******** *********** ************ ************

Sunit and Tony are bosom pals for some years now. Tony stays in the hostel. He was very popular there. Sunit told Tony everything that has transpired. Tony promised he will do his outmost for my sake.

"We have just two days before hostel closes for the winter holidays. Most of the girls will go off to their homes during this period," Tony informed us. He also said, "They will again come back in March next year when the odd semesters will begin."

We couldn't sight her for the next two days. Students began leaving their hostel for the winter break. Soon I was told there were very few of them left there.

Tony said, "We have to be patient. After two months, she will certainly reappear." ******** *********** ************ ************

Ten months have passed since. I never saw her again. The girl seems to have vanished just into thin air. And so, on this note, I would like to end this tale of infantile cravings. Like Keat's Fanny Browne whom the poet met just for a short while and liked and wrote in his "Terror of Death" thus about it

"Fair creature of an hour, I shall never see thee more Never to have relished in the fairy power of unreflecting love,"

In a similar vein, I dedicate the above story to my Fanny Browne.