When I was in the seventh standard, I remember my parents had picked a nice white dress with pretty embroidery for me to wear in Durga Puja. I was really excited about the dress and could hardly wait to wear it. There was a lot of beadwork on the dress which was coming loose in places. So Maa decided to sit with it one afternoon and mend them. I was in school and Baba in office. A quiet autumn afternoon. Just as Maa had begun to work on it, the doorbell rang. Untimely. Outside the door stood Baba, leaning on his colleagues, looking like a train wreck. He had bruises on…