First step on a foreign land

8 months.. 8 months of hell on a motherfucking shipwreck our man finally took his first step on a foreign land he only heard about in newspapers and the governor's pathetic tongue..

As he took a step on the port of Kolkata, he could sense a freshness like the hit of wind before light rain, he could see colors that fascinated him more than a successful mission.. He saw people busy in their work and more lively than ressianance paintings..

Either way he didn't complain.. An officer in the bright red coat was already waiting for the general in await, he stepped into the carriage reminding him of Victorian monotone again.. As he passed a main busy marketplace, he could hear the language people spoke there too foreign to him.. Oddly sweet, just as he was about to pass, he saw a man sitting on steps of a building in a bright red shawl, analyzing papers in his hand with a cup of tea in his hand, black rectangular specs, and a mole on the left side of his face beneath his lips with oddly, unique shimmer in those golden brown eyes he had never seen before, it has a quick glimpse but enough for a general to turn his head back. He remembered that face.

Eventually he reached the quarters and office of the British regiment of West Bengal. Stepping back into Victorian pastels with Bengal's bittersweet summer.. He didn't interact much with others as all the faces were new, and he's taught to be guarded. He met the head officers there who explained the situation and dynamics of West Bengal..

The officer uttered with a sugary glint "had a long way journey, general. You must be tired, how about a glass of champagne for our English gentleman?"

"No, thanks, it's alright. I would like silence and peace for the moment."

Erwik replied with a forced tired smile completely wrecked from the terrible journey.

"Ah, I see. Tired from the shipwreck hmm? It's alright, general, have some rest, we will continue this conversation this evening" the officer replied with a knowing grin as he gestured the servant to lead the new general to his new quarters. The servant bowed and requested the general to follow him. Erwik followed her quietly, she happened to be a middle-aged woman in blue check saree, general was curious about her, as he asked in curiosity

" Umm excuse me, miss do you speak English..?"

the woman replied with whatsoever no interest, "yes, sahib. I do know how to talk in English, i work in a British building, and you expect me not to know English..? You lack sense sahib."

Erwik was startled, he felt a bit stupid and insulted, "i was just asking.. No need to be feisty, i know I am new here and a Britisher.. But you don't have to be so ru--"

The woman cuts him off, "let it be sahib. You've reached your quarter if you require anything just call any servant nearby"

Erwik entered the room, the same decor same smell of cigar and sandalwood, a hit of nostalgia.. He turned back to thank the woman, but the woman already politely slammed the door on his face before he could utter a word. Erwik sighed as threw his hat on the couch nearby and practically fell onto it, he sighed knowing the maid probably swore him as a stupid Englishman behind the doors.. But he couldn't care less, all he cared that he was finally free from his sorry, traumatic family.. He looked around the room and analyzed it for a moment as his mind drifted back to the same golden brown eyes behind those black rectangular frame, perfectly calm and still in Bengal's summer on shiny coffee skin.

" who was he..?"

Erwik muttered to himself thriving for an answer.

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