The sun was really bright. Or maybe it was just him. It felt itchy on his skin for a while. Like a million tiny needles pressing against his skin, struggling to find their way to the revolting turbulence beneath. His blood seemed agitated by this sudden change in temperature. This was in sharp contrast to the cold, swampy surroundings that had recently been promoted as his place of abode. His stay, however, was abruptly terminated by the swift tidings of man.
In spite of the sun stinging his skin, he wasn’t complaining. Not today. Today was his day – the most special day of his life. He wouldn’t let anything ruin it. Neither the flaming heat, and oppressive humidity, nor the throbbing pain on his scarred back. Not even the annoyingly loud cacophony emerging from the various potbellied shopkeepers furiously plying their trade. He allowed himself a chuckle.
In that moment, he realised the one impurity in all this perfection. The only thing that managed to bother him on this lovely day – the annoyingly large speck of dirt that had managed to lodge itself, rather inconveniently, in the middle of his full moon glasses. He took them off, and fished out a dry corner of his dress to clean it. How could he fully enjoy his special day if he couldn’t take in every moment of it?
Aah. Cleaning the glasses sure helped. He now felt at peace. He stood straight for a second, halting his stuttering gait, to take a nice look at his beloved city.
“Aaah! Kolkata. “ he mumbled, as a mellow smile curved his lips ever so gently. Today was his day. He could feel it.
“ Ei! Chol! “ ( Hey! Walk! )
A crude shove from behind him wiped the smirk off his face, and he resumed his struggle through the busy streets of Kolkata, with people jostling away for a path forward. He let all the sights and sounds of his beloved home soothe him – the familiar squalor of the dingy little streets, the heartwarming chortle of little kids scampering around with sticks and toys. Somewhere a flautist played a gorgeous melody, as a violin accompanied him to create a lilting tune that echoed down the narrow sidelines he crossed. As he brought his focus back to the road before him, he swiftly dodged a woman carrying a basket of fresh batch of rohu fish on her head, hollering out prices.
“ O DADA! Dekhe haatun! Oi dooto ki shajanor jonno?! “ ( YOU SIR! Watch your step! Are those glasses for show?! )
He apologetically stretched out a hand as she decided to carry on with her affairs. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a young man sculpting a beautiful statue head of Maa Durga. He had just begun work on the right ear. Despite his young age, he had carved out a beautiful shape to the face and a very lovely pair of eyes. A calm and affectionate expression reflected the innate beauty of her motherly care, as well as the finely honed skill of the craftsman. Devotion shows, they say. Make it with devotion for Maa Durga, and you will see her kindness shine upon you from her eyes.
This city always managed to encompass him in its reverberant atmosphere of vibrancy, artistry and cultural vibe. He fondly took it all in. If everything went as planned, this would be the last time he would be laying eyes on all these things that he had grown up amidst. He, unfortunately, had no more time. He had reached his destination. He noticed a healthy crowd of people gathered there. Must have served as an intriguing break from their lazy afternoon siesta, as they strolled down to the locality field. But he knew that apathy hadn’t rooted itself so deep in the foundations of this city. He knew precisely why certain groups of people were present here. He could almost smell the irony in the air as he climbed up the steps onto the little wooden platform that shamelessly betrayed the trapdoor below. He could feel the various pairs of eyes boring holes into his soul, wondering, searching for the driving force that they lacked. Some were here for mere spectacle. The others frantically grasped for hope and inspiration, while a scanty few seek the peace he was now about to achieve. Men in uniforms glared at him with loathsome looks, some sniggering, but he didn’t care.
A rough hand placed the final deliverance around his neck, and proceeded to ready itself at the switch-handle.
“Well then, got any more final smart words? “ barked the officer.
He grinned from ear to ear. Yes, damn right he had some final words.
Hriddhi Dey 