London’s Heathrow Airport is quite big. Closer to the exit gate a grandfather clock adorns the wall on the left side. Below the clock a signboard reads Waiting Lounge. Several sofas and benches are provided for travellers and guests.

Amal kept his huge suitcase and the big overnighter on the luggage trolley, moved to the waiting hall, and occupied an empty seat. Looking at his watch, matched it with the time shown by the clock on the wall. He had boarded the flight from Delhi at 11.00 hours Indian time. The travel was trouble free except for the strain of sitting all alone in a long flight. He was quite used to such flights. He annually visited London to be with his son Arun, who taught at Oxford and lived there with his family for some years. Amal used to be accompanied with his wife during his visits in the past. He lost his wife a year back and this is his first visit, all by himself. Arun had always been at the airport and driven them home. It was about a six-hour drive to Oxford.

Amal kept waiting for Arun and watched the incessant London drizzle through the glass walls. Anil had informed on the mobile that he would reach in another 30 minutes. Amal got engrossed watching the flowing crowd around him and the shopping arcade from a distance. He was lost in the thoughts of his past visits, when his wife had been with him. His trance of sorts broke when somebody came and sat on the far end of the sofa he was seated. Amal eyed her quietly. She had light luggage on the trolley beside her. He thought she could be 50 or may 60 years; it was difficult to gauge. She was wearing a dark blue silk saree with a white coat on top. She seemed to be of average height with a kind of pleasant smile adorning the corner of her pout. Amal stopped looking at her. He didn’t think it was nice to gaze at a lady for such a long time.

A few moments passed; an urge to look up again swept through Amal. He unknowingly lifted his eyes to look at the lady. She was attractive and the bindi on her forehead added to her beauty. The smile on her face made Amal look within. He felt that the face was very familiar. High cheekbones and a serene face, he felt, it was somewhat known. But he could not recall when or where as he continued to stare. And just then the lady looked up and turned her face towards Amal. She spoke in English.

 “You seem to be an Indian and a Bengali!” There was a query in her words. Amal was unnerved by the suddenness of her statement.

 He recovered to nod and then responded, "Yeah! I am”.

She rearranged the fall of her Saree and started talking. “I have been travelling from Kolkata via Delhi. It’s been pretty boring to fly for long hours all alone. It seems I will have to wait for a while. Can I talk to you?”

He nodded and she continued. “I am Banani … Banani Roy; I stay in Kolkata and teach at the University. I am here for a couple of days to attend a seminar. The organizers were to receive me at Heathrow. Waiting for them … how about you?”

Amal was watching her speak. Listening to her, but all the time trying hard to probe why her face appeared to be so very known. He remained unmindful as he responded, “I am Amal Sen. I was with the Government of India; now retired. My wife passed away a year back and I stay alone in Delhi.”

Amal paused and looked at her. She was all concentration watching him speak. Amal continued,   “My son teaches at Oxford and lives with his family. I am here on my annual sojourn, to be with him, his wife and my teenaged grand daughter.”

As he spoke, his mind kept scanning his mind, but failed to find the clue to the familiarity of the smiling face before him. He noticed the lustre of the diamond earrings. The lady probably understood that Amal’s mind was somewhere else looking for something as she broke the intermittent silence after a while.

“I have been in Kolkata since my childhood. My father was in a private firm. We stayed in many parts of Kolkata but mostly in the Shyambazaar area, where I finished part of my schooling and college. My father made a small house in Salt Lake, where he settled after retirement. My parents are no more; I am unmarried and stay alone. My little sister is settled in California with her husband.”

A distant bell rang but still Amal could not recollect; where had he seen her? He was sixty five and probably his memories had blurred a little. The mobile in her hand rang. She spoke briefly and few minutes later a young man arrived to escort her to her destination.

“It was nice talking to you,” she smiled as she took leave. “How are you feeling? All along you were so unmindful.” She walked away as Amal watched. He stood up and his face drooped. A few minutes passed. He was still standing, feeling lost, when he saw Banani briskly walking back. She was within an arms distance when she spoke.

“I thought I would help you recall. I used to stay opposite your house at Shyambazar for some time. We had never talked to each other. Probably it was an alliance of a silent kind. How will you name it?” She smiled and turned back to walk away towards the lift for the multi-storeyed parking. She looked back once to wave and then she was out of sight. A sudden spark illumined, Amal’s mind as he watched Banani recede into oblivion. A window, closed for a long time opened wide by a sudden gush of wind from the Thames.

The Shyambazar home is still their own. Amal’s brother stays there with his family. He was all of 22 years then and into his first job. One evening he returned home, changed, and stood at the verandah by his bedroom. He was watching dusk descend from the sky. His eyes fell on to the window of the flat across the narrow lane. A girl in a Saree was standing at the window clutching the iron grills. He kept watching the slim girl and could not take his eyes off her. He had never seen her before. May be some new people have occupied the flat. The girl suddenly looked up and her eyes met his. She kind of smiled and moved away from the window.

That started a two year stimulus in the life of Amal. Everyday he stood at the bus stop to go to his office. He kept staring at the flat till his bus arrived. In the evenings he would stand at his verandah looking at the window across the road. Some days the girl would appear behind the iron grills but never to look at him. On days he could see the girl, an unknown surge of emotion would envelope him. He couldn’t move his eyes till she moved away from sight.

One morning he was waiting at the bus stop. His eyes fell on the girl crossing the road clutching a few books to her chest. She came and stood near him, looking the other side. He saw her so near and the turmoil inside him took a new dimension. The bus arrived and she boarded. Amal hesitated; decided to wait for the next bus. He had later found out that she was Banani and went to college.

These meetings with Banani while going to office continued for some time. She would come to the bus stop, wait for bus and board it when it came. Amal eyed her nervously, watched her board the bus but could never muster enough courage to board the same bus. One day he managed to convince himself and boarded the same bus and got down at the stop she disembarked. She kept her eyes low, smiled, and walked away. Amal almost scampered to run in the opposite direction.

This upheaval in Amal’s life had become a source of gossip in the locality and maybe the news had filtered to people in Banani’s family as well. Amal would now frequently see her standing at the window in the evenings. She would tend her long flowing hair, sometimes laugh and talk to her sister. They would eye him sometimes and then break into a bout of laughter .Amal had a feeling that this laughter was for him. He would stand still like an onlooker unable to decide what could be the next step.

And then the transition time arrived. On a day when Kolkata was flooded with torrential downpour, Amal had to take a train to Pune, for an interview. Things happened very fast and within a few weeks he was away from Kolkata, having joined a research organization at Pune. The job was demanding and interesting as well.

He was able to visit Kolkata almost after eighteen months. Much more confident and decisive, after living at Pune for sometime all by himself, he had resolved to talk to Banani during the vacations and express his mind. He reached Kolkata on a Saturday morning and that evening he stood at his verandah watching at the flat across the road. Nobody came to the window. He later found out that Banani’s family had shifted to another colony, south of Kolkata. Nobody knew their address. Friends made fun of him and said it was too late. One cannot delay matters of heart. Amal did realise that he was too late in finding his bearings and courage.

Amal’s spell of recall broke as he heard ‘Baba’. He looked up and saw his son and granddaughter, Carol standing before him and curiously watching him. Carol took charge of the trolley as they moved towards the lift which took them to the sixth floor parking lot. The car moved away from Heathrow onto the highway towards Oxford. The road was appreciably empty and Arun drove at a very fast pace. With the momentum, a thought flickered inside Amal’s mind; may be he would go to Kolkata and look for Banani’s house in Salt Lake. This thought prevailed for a while and then Amal burst into laughter.

This behaviour surprised Arun and Carol, who looked at Amal in amazement. He recovered to offer a reason. “Carol, do you remember, last time when I came with your grandmother, she wore high heeled shoes. She could not manage them and stumbled at the lounge. I had to jump and grab her to avoid an accident.” This explanation didn’t quite convince his son, who kept quiet as he accelerated. The car moved; other vehicles scrambled past, vacant fields, empty roads flew. A dreamy feeling crowded Amal’s mind.

Only Carol kept talking. She informed him “Tomorrow I am going for a date with my boy friend in the afternoon. We will go to the Cotswold Park. One can see many animals there. I had told him that you are coming and that I didn’t like to leave you alone. He wouldn’t listen! He always does this. He always forces his wishes on me and gets angry if I do not accede. Is this right, grandpa?’

Amal replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, you must also try to get what you want. Always try to strive hard for what your heart desires. You must get what you want. Do not delay; it may be late otherwise.”

As he said this a visual appeared before him. He closed his eyes and could see Banani walking away at the Heathrow airport, her silhouette recede and then fade away quickly.

Originally written in Bengali by Mr. Tapan Kumar Karanjai