Rumki’s story, exclusively for Different Truths, is about a crisp December morning in 2014. The insistent doorbell shattered the pre-dawn quiet, sparking a flurry of emotions—worry, exhaustion, and a touch of annoyance. What heartwarming surprise awaited her?                                                                           

It was a chilly morning in December 2014. The doorbell rang: “Who comes so early in the morning to look for someone?” The first thing that came to mind was, “Is there any emergency? It doesn’t seem so; then, the army’s four-digit telephone would have rung. There must be someone who is looking for Biswajit.” Biswajit is out for his regular morning exercise. I could barely see the first light through the window. 

Last night, we had a party in the Officers’ Mess of an Ordnance Depot. A formal official party, somebody was dined in or out; I can barely remember now. We came back home late at night. I was carrying a child of eight months and could barely sleep at night. 

It was difficult for me to turn over to the other side on my own while lying on one side for a while. My husband used to help me turn over the other side. My two-and-a-half-year-old son was sleeping beside me. I was telling myself, “No matter what, I am not going to get up and answer this doorbell.” The person should go back and try to contact Biswajit on his mobile phone. 

After two or three minutes, the doorbell rang again. I was wondering why had this man arrived at my doorstep on this chilly day as I lay in bed under a cosy quilt. winter morning. Then again, the bell rang for the third time. I got up from the bed in disgust, wrapped myself in a shawl, and switched on the lights in the drawing room and walked slowly towards the door. 

I opened the door and found that Mess Havildar was standing with a bunch of lovely flowers and a card with a broad smile on his face. He handed over the bouquet and the card and wished me, “Happy Birthday, Madam.” 

I replied with a smile, “Thank you.” 

We briefly exchanged greetings. I inquired about the well-being of his family and children. He replied proudly that they were all doing well during that time. Then he went off toward the mess to do his regular duties. I was looking at him, holding the card and the bouquet in my hand, while he was moving back. 

A wave of guilt washed over me, and the purest of joy filled my heart, which I still remember as fresh as the morning dew. It has been 15 years of my association with the Army, and I have never missed a doorbell on December 8. 

The officers’ hustle messages on the card and the morning’s fresh flowers did everything they could to make my birthday special and strengthen my sense of belongingness to the Army. 

Picture design by Anumita Roy

Rumki Mitra

Rumki Mitra is a singer. She did M.A. in English Literature and in Music as well. Being an army officer’s wife and due to the transferable job of her husband, she taught many schools in India. She takes an avid interest in Indian Classical Music. She regularly publishes her write-ups on online sites and manages her blog.

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