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Sunday Morning ! Maini Mahanta..
A few minutes of extra sleep in a Sunday morning is Mitu’s idea of luxury and comfort. A diligent working spinster driven to city women’s hostel sulks at Makoni, the landlady Anjukhuri’s domestic help, as she hurls a note at snoozing Mitu asking her to report at once with the information she was told to collect about an assumed relation of Anjukhuri’s ebullient-flamboyant-unemployed son with the most appealing hostel boarder Samridhi. The note asks if Mitu got any information, she must report at once to Anjukhuri. ‘You can go now.’- indifferent and annoyed Mitu signals Makoni to leave.
 

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Emotion or a little care never impedes Makoni, she can speak with no feeling. She is a machine; at least Mitu has over the years observed no growth of human propensity in this person called Makoni, except for an ugly stuff of bulging curves beneath an outmoded skirt. The machine like female, not knowing what to say, revolves her body around to leave. ‘Don’t forget to shut the door.’- Mitu yells. Mitu certainly enjoys nearness to Anjukhuri. It is not a formal tenant-owner relationship; Anjukhuri is married to Mitu’s distant relation Amiya Deka, the successful businessman, and that makes the difference. Mitu moved to the hostel after she had found a job in the city, left home, and also found in the hostel owner Anjukhuri a concerned elderly woman who took upon herself the role of Mitu’s guardian away from home. Mitu soon became Anjukhuri’s trustworthy companion. They could be seen together at the downtown market or an exhibition, they share food, exchange gifts; Mitu is truly happy with the landlady-cum-aunt’s affection for her, but she can’t say it is a pleasure all the time for a working spinster. Mitu at times fights with herself to oblige the nagging landlady. Affection borders intrusion, feels Mitu, particularly when she has to forfeit a Sunday for her sake.

Mitu adjourns her bath, instead gets ready to meet Anjukhuri. ‘Relax Anjukhuri, it’s no big deal; I can assure you that your son Partha is a gem of a person, you’re being worried unnecessarily’- Anju rehearses the soothing words she would utter to the perplexed woman. Anju of course has made her best attempts to find out the truth, the real truth. She has been scanning each vehicle there to pick up this hot girl. Anju does not smell any affair involving Anjukhuri’s son with her, yet how could Anjukhuri sense it? Can there be smoke without fire? It was a week before, last Sunday to be precise, when Anjukhuri had stormed into Mitu’s room in the hostel, bolted the door, grabbed Mitu by her arms and whispered that she had come to know from a very, very close associate that a clandestine affair is steaming between Partha- her son, and the most talked about girl in hostel-Samridhi. Anjukhuri’s one well-wisher had divulged the truth.

-‘Are you sure? Can you prove it?’

-‘I have come to you because I can’t prove it. You must help me.’

-‘But is there really anything I can do in this matter?’

-‘You can do it; I mean you can tell me if the report is true, in a week.’

-‘So I am a secret agent now?’

-‘Don’t be silly.'

 
     
 
 
 
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