For the coming years, Veerbagh was not able to forget that eve from the mid of March–marking the starting of the ending of Spring–and the events that follow in next few weeks.
That eve, the drizzle of unseasonal snow had slowed down after snowing heavily for most of the eve. The door, the roof was covered with a thick layer of white ice. The town was still awake; it was not out of energy still then.
The heavy snowfall had taken captive the inhabitants. If the snowfall had not started, then they could be found outside in the middle of the town dancing and singing to the local songs around the big fire, built besides a small out-of-function fairy fountain.
Every house was thus celebrating the eve being confined in their house. In some houses families–more than two–had gathered to enjoy the festive eve.
The only place that was gloomy was the inn at the starting of the town. As it was surrounded by four Veer trees, a local name for willow, it was named Veerchao. There were few people at the inn; they were mostly travelers and tradesmen. There was also a local singer who was hired to provide the ambiance to the eve through his song. The door to the inn opened when he was going to start his third song of the eve; the flowing flake of snow entered first before the tall stature of Police Head Sudarshan Laha enter the inn.
He was a man in his early forties with a well-built physique. He looks like any normal person; his superior says this not-mention-worthy-look was the striking feature he had and also a cause of envy to them and as well as others in the uniform.
He sat down at the corner. It was dimly lighted by a candle on a high stand and residual light of the chandelier–the striking feature of the inn. From there the road could be seen–back and forth–on other clear days. He looks at the bartender who smiled back at him. He was wiping the glasses; he does this after closing the inn, but, as today there’s no customers and the regulars were celebrating the March Medieval, he had planned to close the bar before the midnight. The inn needs to be kept open because of there always one or two guests arriving at dead of night. The probability of this was high today due to the blizzard and all.
“What is bothering you…” Laha was in the train of thoughts as he was looking blankly at the inn-keeper Joseph.
There were no definitive tracks or topics on which his mind was hovering on. So, spending few sentences on what he might be thinking of or what thoughts he was playing with will make the moment dull.
The question to him was asked by Mrs. Joseph Burrough. He looked at him and remain silent. He was still in trance of the state of lost he was in.
“Have you visited Nira…” she asked him taking the seat after dragging it closer to him.
“No…I have not…she’ll not let me…” he replied looking at her eyes.
“Here you go…your usual…” Joseph joined in with two mugs of local special beer in his both hands–one for him and one for Laha.
“So…the eve goes well…” Joseph said after taking the seat.
Laha lights a cigarette and having a sip of from his mug, he replied, “there’s s’thing wrong…I can sense it…his promise never goes false…never got broken…”
Mrs. Burrough smiled slim and said, “you need rest…you’re overthinking…have the drink and visit her…visit Nira…it’s Medieval, my dear brother…”
Joseph was going to join in when he was halted by a noise of clatter. Laha looked out through the hazed window but couldn’t see anything. Joseph got up–it’s a customer.
There was a hasty knock on the door. The guest was in a hurry it seems.