The rain had only stopped. I huddled quietly with my drawing book, pencil, and eraser, the air heavy with the damp scent of monsoon. Shravan, the rainy season, had overflowed every river and canal in the village. Nothing felt ordinary—everything shone with water.
It was my practice, since childhood, to come here and draw. Yesterday I had come from the city on a visit to my ailing grandfather. But even on such visits to relatives, my diary and drawing stuff never miss me. Wherever I went, I always found some quiet corner to draw.
In front of me was the broad river and beside it a mighty mango tree. Each time I went, I sat on the wooden veranda below it that my uncle had built. This time as well, as always, I was sketching there. For the past fourteen years, I had sketched one scene repeatedly: the river and the mango tree. Each time I went, I sketched the same scene repeatedly with slight variations each time.
But I could never capture the mermaid's face in the middle of the river. I had tried doing it dozens of times, and my mind kept forgetting. Today, I tried again. There was something about this attempt that felt… right. The fictional shape of the mermaid was restless in my mind—I needed to look at her face, but could not.
I spoke to no one, just muttering to myself, daydreaming. Time went by; before I knew it, I was on my way home. As usual, I left a sketch behind. I had always since childhood believed perhaps the mermaid would see it, but nothing ever came of it. Nevertheless, I didn't break the habit.
My grandfather was still not good. My break was coming to an end; I had to return to college after SSC. At home, my world was my parents and twin sister, Hridhika, who was perpetually getting up to some form of mischief. I had been born five minutes before her, something she still resented, claiming that she was due the respect of an elder sister. But I never really accepted that claim. We were practically indistinguishable in appearance; if we were not twins, no one could ever tell us apart. There were more secrets within my own family, but those were yet to appear.
At home:
Hridi: "Hey, where were you?"
Me: "Why should I tell you?"
Hridi: "No need to tell, I can guess. Why else would your head be all haunted? Oh, drawing again? How many times will you draw that?"
Me: "I…"
Hridi interrupted me.
Hridi: "Stop. You don't have to say anything. It's not your fault. You don't even know why this happens yourself."
Me: "Hmm…"
Hridi: "Don't lie to your big sister."
Me: "Who's the big sister?"
Hridi: "I am, obviously."
Me: "But I'm the elder. You're younger…"
And thus our day went on. The two of us always fought, but could not help but stay away. That is why we went to the same school, and soon, the same college.
Mom: "Hridoy! Where are you?"
Me: "Yes, Mom?"
Mom: "You come here and forget about your sister. Go to the pond, if there were a real mermaid, you'd marry her instead of your sister!"
Me: "Mom! Don't say that, I'm embarrassed!"
Mom: "No shame needed. Hridi has earned it."
Me: "Big pancake…"
Mom: "Hmm…"
Me: "I'll go now, okay?"
I rushed to the balcony and found Hridi having pancakes, taunting me with each mouthful. We tasted them and pretended to argue over whether I could eat more or less. She would always keep up with my energy, and yet she ate more than me.
Me: "Hridi, give me some!"
Hridi: "What, this?"
Me: "Yes, big sister!"
Hridi: "No! I'll eat it myself, I'm small."
Me: "No, don't pretend to be the elder sister. Promise to give me!"
Hridi: "Hmm… okay, I'll do it."
We dined happily. There was something so special about eating those pancakes—it always seemed like a celebration of life.
After that, we bathed at the river. I had never swum here with Hridi before. Today, my aunt joined us too, so I was nervous. The water reached our chests. We splashed and played, daring each other to dive.
As I went under, I was in a squeeze—a girl had yanked me underwater. My lungs burned, fear blazing. I knew I was about to die, when a soft pressure hit my lips. Her body radiated light, preventing me from seeing her face. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, Hridi and my aunt were in the distance. No other person was in view. My heart was racing. Who—or what—had kissed me?
Voice in my ear: "This is only your dream. Keep in your heart what you wish to remember… forget the rest."
A peck on eyelids, another on lips. I blinked, and the one was gone. Hridi slept peacefully beside me, unaware. I knew it was an illusion of my mind—or was it?
The next morning, I woke up with very little memory of the previous night. Only touch remained. Hridi and I had breakfast, then we went to see grandfather.
Me: "Grandpa, how are you today?"
Grandpa: "Hridi, Hridoy! Are you off now?"
Hridi: "Yes, Grandpa, we'll return."
Grandpa: "I wished I could attend your wedding, but fate had different plans."
Me: "We'll arrange everything first, then visit you."
And so the day passed.
--