Bhumi

Prothom oddhay-

Raat tokhon 8 ta. Sheet’er rate gram’er golite raat tokhon anek beshi dakhacche. Charidike jhi-jhi poka’r daker shobdo kromosho berei utheche. Jano tara jor golai ake-aporer shonge kono nihshongshotar protibaad janacche. Ki amon bolte chai tara roj? Khubdo pokara, jader dak diner kolahol’e bindu matro shona jaina tara jano abirame tader uposthiti’r proman diye choleche. Kothao jano doore katogulo kukur dukkher raag-alap korche. Kerosin bati’te alo kom hoye esheche. Barite kerosin nei, gato soptahe tel kena haini. Poisa chilona. Baba bollo kath jaliye alo korte habe kintu kath’o elona. Jai shyamolidi’r bari theke ektu tel cheye ani, raat takono mote katate habe. ( Bole Chilka hathe akta bikkhato brand-er thanda paniyo’r botol niye beriye porlo).

-Palta tui dorja ta bhalo kore bondho kore de. Amar golar swar sunlei khulbi.
Palta doure eshe dorjai khil kosher dilo. Palta Chilka’r choto bhai. Boyosh 8 bochor. Ajkal gramer abostha bhalo paina bashinda’ra. Tai shondhe holei bari ghorer dorja ar khola thakena ager moton. Kisher jano bhoi charipashe, keu ar shanty te nei. Kokhon jano ki hoyegalo kothao.

Chilka’r ma ashustho kayak mash dhore. Barite doridrota chirokalei. Kintu edaning abostha kromosho kharap hoye choleche. Konobela khawar jote to konobela adhpet kheyei thakte hai. Chilka’r baba Tapas, onnanno der motoi chashi. Chas bash kore tader din jai. Shudhu Tapas’i noi tader purbo purush rao chash kore kheto. Tapas jane bibhinno kaler bibhinno chash’er kayeda. Ekhane Tapas er moton anekei achen jara kayak purush dhore roye chash kare. Eder akmatro sompod jake era shobtheke bhalo bashe- mati. Mati ke era ma bole thaken karon ei mati tader jug-jug dhore lalon-palon kore esheche. Choto-boro jar jai thak, etai eder shob kichu. Rajyer kaddo utpadon’e ei gram’er bishesh abodaan. Jamoni hok, diner sheshe shabai khusi chilo tader moner moton kaj niye.
Gram’e akta choto sarkari prathmik biddalay chilo, jekhane Chilka ar Palta porte jeto. Chilka’r boyesh 12. Barir baro meye. Choto khato goron gayer rong moila. Mathai lamba chul fite diye bandha thake. Gram’e loke snan’er shomay baad diye chul khule rakhe na, bole bhut-pret’er baash hai chule. Ma asustho, tai barir adhikansho kaj’i takei korte hai. Ghor porishkar kora, goru ke chara dewa, ranna kora, kapor kacha, tubewell theke jol bhora shobi she ekai korto. Kintu tar moddheo she dine 2 ghonta biddaloye jete bhulto na.

--koi re. Chilka to onekkhon beriyeche baritheke. Akhono firlona? Ma jiggesh korlen.
- didi boleche syamolidi’r bari geche, ektu porei chole ashbe. Palta bole uthlo khatar patai rong pencil ghoste-ghoste.
-ar tor baba’o to firlo na Gobukakur bari theke. Kano je ato raat baire thake. Ajkal dinkal bhalo na.
-Ma ami akbar dekhe ashi Gobukaka’r bari baba ki korche?
Ashole Gobukakar barite radio ache, ei chutoi Palta giye latest hindi cinema’r gaan shune ashbe. Kintu ajkal radio te gaan ar keu shone na. shobar kan shudhu shongbad’e. mara-mari, latha-lathi, rajjo sarkar, kendriyo sarkar, ei shudhu bole othe radio.
-Thak toke ar jete habena. Bujhina, tor kisher atha?
Edike bati’r alo kromosho nibhe esheche. Ar kichu kkhoner moddhe tel na dile poorotai nibhe jabe. Dorjar kodai nada porlo.
-Ke? Ke esheche?
-Khol ami eshechi.
-Ooo babu?? Palta chute giye dorja khullo.
Tapas ghore dhuke cheler mathai hath buliye ador kore jiggesh korlo, ajke tui school jasne?
-Koi? School to katodin dhore bondho, ajkeo kholeni.
-Ki je hocche, shuncho Palta’r ma shune elam khub taratari naki sarkar kono akta byabostha nebe. Ar beshi din na, amra abar ager moton thakte parbo. Gobu bolchilo, kalke shohor theke dada’ra eshechilo, shantona diyeche ar kichu habe na. shohoreo naki er protibad hocche. Loke dhormoghot dekeche. Bolche shanti na firle ar kaj habena.

-Shobi kopal bujhle Palta’r baba. Tomar-amar baba ki bhebechilen je akdin gram’er ei abostha habe. Loke shob kichu chere pran bachiye palabe. Ato ottachar-onnay’er shommukheen hote habe.
-Agge ja bolecho. Chilka ke dekhte pacchina. Koi she? Ghumiye porlo naki?
-Nago, amar to chinta hocche, ak ghonta age beriyechilo syamoli’r bari. Kerosin tel ante. Akhono firlona. Ami boliki, tumi noi akbar dekhe asho giye. Kono bipod holo naki?
-Accha ami jacchi. Nao ei takagulo dhoro ar shabdhane rekhedao. Ei robbar shohore giye beej kine anbo ar Chilta r Palta’r jonno kali pujote notun jamao kine anbo. Ebar taka na thakai, pujote oder kichu joteni.
Etimoddhe dorjai aghat-
-Paltaaa! Paltaaa! Dorja khol.
-Didi esheche.
-Kothai chili atokkhon? Janishna dinkal kharap.
-Baba shamolidi’r biye habe kalipujor din. Oi pasher gram’er Robida, tar sathe.
-Accha meyetar biye hocche? Ta tui ki korchili atokkhon?
-Amake syamolidi biyer goina ar jamakapor bashun ettadi dakhacchilo, ami dekhchilam. Ki moja habe taina? Shamolidi bou sajbe, bor ashbe ki mojai na habe.


Hathath baire jore jore golar awaj. Besh kayekjon. Jore jore dorjai naDa porlo. Palta-Chilta ma’er pechone lukiye porlo.
-Ke ke??
-Amra shohorer ak beshorkari shongstha theke eshechi. Apnader uddhar korte. Dorja khulun.
Tapas shunechilo omon keu ashbe, kintu aj noi, agami kal.
-Kintu apnader to agami kal ashar kotha?
-Hya kintu kal shohore dhormoghot tai amra ajkei pouche gechi. Doya kore daroja khulun.
Tapas mone ektu ashonka niye alto kore dorja khullo. Shonge shonge bayu’r bege kichu lok ghore dhuke porlo. Dorjar pechone darano Tapas chitke doore pore galo. Palta ‘baba’ bole chenchiye uthlo. Lokgulo ghore dhuke palta’ke dewale jore thele dilo. Ke era? Ki chai? Bujhte beshi deri holona Tapas ar Paltar mayer. Chilka’r chuler muthi dhore take kichu aslil galagali dilo lokgulo. Palta’r ma’yer hather taka chine nilo. Lathi diye Tapas ke bejai mardhor korlo. Banchabar proyashe palta’r ma egiye ashate takeo marte charlona. Adhmora shushtho mohila ke marteo tader bindu matro dwidha holona. Shob taka-poisha chiniye , khawar-dawar keDe niye galo tara. Ar jete-jete bole galo, “Prane bachte chaile, paliye ja”.

Kintu paliye kothai jabe era? Etai to eder shob kichu. Chotobela theke era ekhanei manush hai. Er baire je kono jogot ache sheta era janena. Ekhan theke chole gele kothai jabe? Ki khabe? Krishi chara era kichui janena. Ar mool kotha ‘Kano jabe?’
Ei mati, ei gram tader. Ekhane thaka tader odhikar. Era karur kono khoti koreni tahole kano ato durbhog eder kopale? Ke uttor debe? Aneke gram chere praner bhoye paliye gache. Aneker bari-ghor jole gache. Aneke pran hariyeche ei kayek mashe. Kato nirjaton shojjo korte hoyeche ei kadine. Kato baccha nijer ma-baba ke hariyeche. Kato meyera dhorshito hoyeche. Ar katodin ei bhabe cholbe?? Ke uttor debe??

Antim Oddhay-

Dipabali kache eshe choleche ar tar sathe Shyamoli’r biye. Shyamoli gram’er abaitonik prathomik biddaloyer shikkhika. She gram’e thakleo porishkar bangla likhte pare. Onko bolte jog, biyon, bhag, goon ettadi korte pare. Shyamoli’r baba age aki iskool’er shikkhok chilen. Onar nikhoj howar por Shyamoli onar jaiga nei. Gram’er lokeder tar upor khub bhorsha,
“Shyamoli’r moton ar dwitiyo pondit nei ei gram’e”.

Shyamoli’r baba kayak mash age hothat akdin bari theke beriye ar firlen na. Anek khoja-khuji kora hai kintu tar kono khobor pawa jaina. Kayak mash agee tini pasher gram’er ak attoyo’r sathe Robi’r bari Shayamoli’r biye thik korte jaan. Tar por ar bari ferenni. Shei shomay ei gram’e prothom baar probol bicholon dakha dai. Kotha theke ajoshro lok ebong shena-bahini, hathe boma-guli niye chora-churi korte thake. Era kara ebong kanoi ba erom korche? Janachilona aneker. Anek din jabot gram’e akta jomi niye bibad cholche. Ar shei niye shuru hai ei loDai. Jomir loDai jibon-moron’er loDai’ye porinoto hai. Anek rokhtopat, charidike shudhi chitkar ar bomar-guli’r awaj. Jokhon sara bharotborsher lok ake-oporer gaye abir lagiye ei milanotsab palon korchilo tokhon ei gram’er lokerao khelechilo ‘Holi’, rokhter holi. Manushke nihshongsho bhabe mara hai. Ghare dhuke ashohai sishu, briddho ebong mohila’der upor ottachar kora hai. Ma’er chokher shamne tar shontanke dhorshon kora hai bar-bar. Bohuloke pran harai, keu harai atto-shomman ar keu harai benche thakar uddheshyo.

Haito shekhanei Shyamoli’r baba pran hariyechen. Kintu sarkari shutre jari suchipotre taar namer ullekh chilona. Tai Shyamoli’r ma’r mone kothao akta asha’r alo ajo jole jai. Kintu baki grambashider sahte Shyamoli-o jane je tar baba ar firben na. Amon aro kato lok mara jai shei bar jader naam sarkari shuchi te chilona. Kato lash ke nodir jole bhashiye dewa hoyeche tar kono hodish nei. Shontrashbadi’ra shena-bahini’r poshake charidike choriye chilo. Manush kake biswas korbe? Manush tokhon bibekheen….Amanush. Krishubhumi ranobhumite porinoto hai. E-jano ak shwadhinota’r lodai.

Ajke Shyamoli’r biye. Biye hobe shokalei, gram’er ak mondire. Anek din jabot kono bhalo kaj haini ei gram’e. Khub kacher kichu lok’ke daka hoyechilo ei biyete. Chilta ar Palta- nimontrito chilo. Shakal –shakal bhalo kapor-jama pore dui bhai-bon beriye galo bari theke. Palta’r ma bari theke beroy na. Tapas dupurer dike nimontonno khete jabe thik koreche.
Shokal thokhon 9. Shyamoli’r porone ak lal sari, kichu shamanno gaina, paye-o-hathe alta, ghomta diye mondire boshe ache. Chilka tar pashei bou’er prodhan bandhobi’r sthan niyeche. Khobor esheche bor akhono rastai, oi gram theke shokal 8 tai rouna diyediyeche. Uposthit protibeshi ar atmiyoswajon’er mukhe hashi, jano tara par kore asha shei din gulo ar monekorte chaina. Edike hashi-thatta cholche ar odike thakur moshai biyer prostuti shuru kore diyechen. Ar this shei shomay dur theke Lanka(gram’er ak jubok) chitkaar kore chute ashe edike..

-Kakimaaa… kakima…shob shesh hoye galo…
-Ki re Lanka ki holo? Omon kore chechacchish kano.
-robi’r guli legeche. She mara gache. Ar sahte joto bor-jatri chilo tarao prai shobai mara gache. Pasher gram’e shontrashbari ra abar akromon koreche. Abar guli cholche. Bari-ghor manush shomet puriye dicche. Shobai paliye jao..

Eri moddhe boma-guli’r awaj shona jete laglo. Loke praner bhoye nijer barir dike chutlo. Shyamoli’r biye nimeshe shesh hoye galo.
-Palta tui bari ja, ami Shyamolidi ke bari chere aschi.
-thik ache. Tui taratari ashbi..

Chilta Shyamoli ke dhore bari cherte galo. Er moddhei chairidike hoichoi. Dorja bhenge ghore dhuke elo kichu lok bonduk hathe. Chilta’r choker shamne dhorshito holo Shyamoli.
-Tui paliye ja Chilta, doure paliyeja. Kampa-kampa golai Syamoli chechiye uthlo.
Ei shune oi lokgulor dhyan Chilta’r dike galo. Chilta doure ghor theke beriye gal oar chutlo jedike duchokh jai. Ondher moton dishaheen hoye chutlo she, take ar dakha galona.
Shondhye hoye galo, gola-guli akhono cholche. Tapas bari fereni akhono. Chilta’r kono khobor nei. Barite kannakati shuru. Hothath kotha theke ak aguner gola barir chader upor porlo. Shukno khor’e dao-dao kore agun choriye porlo. Palta tar ma’ke tene ghor theke berkorbar chestai byartho holo kintu tao chesta chaliye jai. Ar edike agun charidike dao-dao kore jolte shuru kore. Palta shahajjer jonno jore-jore chitkar korte shuru korlo kintu tar awaj ke shone? Shabai nijer barir agun nebhate byasto. Palta praner jore tar make tana shuru kore ar itimoddhe jwalonto chad bhenge ghorer moddhe pore.
-Palta tui paliyeja, amake chere de. Amar katha bhabish na. toke bachte habe, baro hote habe. Baba ar didi’r kheyal rakhte habe baba… Tui pala, nijeke bacha.
Ga pure jacche Palta’r obosheshe she akai beriye ashe ghor theke. Ma’ke jyanto purte dakhilo Palta, kato ashohai mone hoyechilo tar. Gram’e charidike agun, loke piprer moton charidike doure choleche. Palta mandir’er shiri te boshe kende choleche. Tar dukkher shima nei, Ma ar nei ei prithibite, bon ar baba’ke shokal theke dakheni she. Kothai jabe, kothai khujbe tader. Mandirer shirite boshe tar duchokhe asru’r dhara boye jai. Aj keu nei tar pashe, she kato aka.

Sheidin deepabali. Abar sara desh utsab’e mete utheche, baji-bom jalacche, prodip diye ghor alo korche. Ar shekhane ei gram agune uddipto, jole-pure chai hoye choleche. Baji noi boma diye dipaboli palon korche era. Aguner deepmala, konotai nokol na shobtai ashol. Ato kichu holo kintu purlona kono Raban, tara akhono benche dongsho chaliye jawar jonne. Kandte-kandte palta ghumiye pore mandir’er shiritei, ghum bhange bhorer alote. Gram’e keu nei, charidik fanka. Charipashe shobkichu kalo. Palta chute shuru korlo, jedike tar chokh jai. Jano ei shob kichu theke she paliye jete chaiche. Gatokal’er kicchu she mone korte chaiche na. Bortoman theke paliye kothao lukiye jete chai. She kicchu mone korte chaina. Anekta dur she doure chole esheche, eta kondik, kon gram kichu janena she, tao doure choleche pooro pran’er jore. Hathath hochot kheye pore jai she ak mathe, pashe dakhe ak mritodeho. Chinte parlona kar. Shorir theke hath khule beriye esheche ar matha ghure gache. She ak bhibhotsho drisshyo. Palta aro bhoye pelo ar chota shuru korlo, kintu ar beshi dur chute parlo na. khanik durei she dekhte pelo Chilta’r lash; nirbostro ebong khoto-bokkhoto. Aro katokichu dekhte habe Palta’ke ei boyeshe? Palta nijer poroner jamatuku khule Chilta’r gaye dheke dilo. Du-chokhe abiraam ashru jhore jai. Didi’r sathe atogulo bochor heshe-khele katano, take she aj ei bhabe dekhche. Palta ar thamlo na, abar she chota shuru korlo, chute-chutte gram’er por gram periye galo. Obosheshe ar na pere boshe porlo. Tar baba koi? Kothai pabe take? Sheo ki mara gache? Ebar she ki korbe? Kothai ashroy nebe? Amon anek proshno choto Palta’r mone, jar uttor she janena, amio janina.

Shamapto

Madhurima Acharya
23 NOV ‘07.

AMADER CHOTOBALA

Introduction:

Amader bolte ami ar amar choto bon. Du bochorer tofat amader moddhe. Amra aksathe anek dustumi, hinshuti-khunshuti korechi chotobalay. Ekhane kichu mone pora ghotonagulo boli apnader.

Prothomei boli amar r amar bon-er moddhe akta darun chemistry chilo. Bon roga chip-chipe, khub smart, independent, nirbhik, darun uposthit buddhi ar GUL marte number one. Ar ami thik tar ulto ektu mota-sota, chorom kabla, boka-mara, mayer kOthai uthtam boshtam, bhitu ar GUL marte zero. Bolte gele amar kache brain chilo kintu tar remote-control chilo mayer hathe. Amra choto bala aki school-e portam. Ma bonke boledito, didi-r kheyal rakhis. Dekhish keu jano didi-r tiffin na khai. Amar tiffin chirokal lokei kheto. Ma roj bread-omelette baniye dito tiffin-e, sheta kheto amar kono ak bondhu, ar ami khetam tader shukno ruti ar peyaj. Amar otai bhalo lagto mayer banano omelette’r theke(er pechone akta karon ache, sheta pare janabo).

Er age boli amra Madhya Pradesh’er akta khub choto jaigai amader chotobala katiyechi. Ajkal shei jaiga gulo Chattisgarh district’er bhetore pare. Charidike shudhu sal-gacher jongol ar tar majhe-majhe kichu bari. Jaiga ta pahari, prakritik soundorje poripurno, jhorna, pahar, jongol, janowar, gufa, bhut-pret, petni, daini, mondir ebong tribes prochur porimane chilo. Ja chilo na sheta holo akta bhalo school, hospital, bhalo dokan-pat, cinema-hall, park, zoo ettadi. Pooro 300 km elakar moddhe matro akta sarkari hashpatal
( jekhane jekono byatha’r aktai oshudh- sada bori tar sathe akta holud bori sakal bikel), duto school(akta English ar akta hindi medium), aktai cinema hall ( jar cover bihin chair’e boshle pascho desh khatobikkhoto hoye jeto), kayekta choto dokan(jekhane jinish-er list dile 50 mins por jinish ready hoto). Chilona kono cholachol’er bahon (jamon bus, taxi, auto, rickshaw). Chilo shudhu cycle athoba company’r dewa jeep. Baba company theke jeep peto, ar ta na hole baba’r o akta cycle hoto jar carriage e ma boshto ar amra dujone oi shamner rod tai. Shei shomay karur nijeshyo car/ scooter o chilona. Amader kayekjon protibeshi bade shabai okhane kono na kono tribe’er member.

Amar GUL marar prothom Odhayay:

Amra tokhon khub choto, boyesh amar 6 boner 4, year 1983. Ami class 2 te pori bon’er school admission haini. Ami chotobala theke over-weight thakar jonno ma 5 bochor boyesh theke amake 500 bar skipping ar 30 mins yoga karato. Sheta na korle amar breakfast jut-to na. More-beche amake oi duti opriyo kaj kortei hoto. Roj rate showa’r shomay bhabtam kal jano sakal na hai. Prothom ak bochor ma anek energy niye boshe theke amake skipping kArato, ar 500 bar na hole rehai dito na. Tarpor 30 min yoga. Aste-aste barir kajer bastotai ma amar pechone bonke boshiye dilo. Bon jatha-riti du hater muthoi bourbon biscuit ar naDu niye boshe amar upor khobordari korto.

Eta amar sojjer baire, bon khobordari korche tao kina naDu ar biscuit khete-khete. Impossible kichu akta kortei habe. Ami hatath akdin skipping korte-korte icchakrito bhabe poregelam. Bollam pete khub batha korche. Skipping theke to mukti pelam kintu breakfast e jutlo shukno muri. Moner jala berei choleche kromosho, akdin sahosh kore bonke bollam, “shon ami ajke 100 skipping korchi, tui kintu ma’ke bolishna”.
“Na bolle tui amake ki dibi?” bon jiggesh korlo.
“Ami ar ki debo?”
“Akje ma jakhon toke naDu debe, tui sheta amake diyedish. Kintu ma jano dekhte na pai”.

Ami bhablam 500 bar skipping kAra theke naDu sacrifice kAratai easy. Tai korlam.
Ei bhabe krame-krame amar skipping 500 theke 300-200-100-50-10’e namlo. Ar yoga’r ashon shudhu matro “shobashon’e” shimito hoye galo. Ar shudhu taina Ma’yer chokhe prothom bar bhalobasha dekhlam sheibar, “meyer buddhi hoyeche ajkal na boltei chot-pot skipping ar yoga kore niche”. Kromosho amar bhager shob naDu, chocolate, bourbon biscuit, dry-fruits chole galo bon-er bhage. Shudhu ei noi, majhe-majhe or bhager akta baro glass doodh amake gilte hoto. Pooropuri tortured. Ar jodi konodino sahosh dekhiye oke kichu bolechi, songe-songe o bolto “ma-ke shob bole debo kintu….”.

Shei din theke amar brain er remote control’ta ma ar bon alternatively share kora shuru korlo. Ar shei din theke amar defence weapon holo GUL mara, ebong ajker dine ami ei subject’e prochondo dokkhota hasil korefelechi.



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THE PERFECT TIMING

Ei ghotona ta shei aki shal’er 1983. Sabar age amader barir biboron. Barita besh baro, chari passhe bishal compound kaNta taar diye ghera. Baranda theke 30 meter doore akta bishal baro lohar gate. Gate –er moddhe ar akta choto gate manush’er beronor jonno. Gate’ta konodino amra nije khulte partam na, hath jeto na. Compound’e kaNthal, aam, piyara, neem, teNtul ar akta bishal kool gaach chilo. Gate bandho thakleo kaNta tarer bara’r niche mati khuDe suor protidin pooro family shomet dhuke kul kheto ar nongra korto.

Chotobala thekei Ma amader khub kaDa nojore manush koreche. Allad-adorer balai nei, khali bAka, chOr, chimti ar kan-mola. Karur bari jodi niyegalo amader, tar ager theke instruction shuru hoye jeto.
“Beshi jore katha bolbe na. Kono katha’r majhkhane katha bolbe na. nijera jhogDa korbe na. Barora katha bolle shekhan theke uthe jabe. Keu kichu jiggesh korle uttor debe. Ar khawar-er dike jodi hangla’r maton takiyecho tahole chokh duto gele debo.” ettadi ettadi..

Ma’yer kache shobcheye embarrassing situation holo meyera onner bari giye cheye-cheye khacche. Mane plate e ke, ki dilo dekhteo shahosh petam na amra. Jar fole Onner hather jekono ranna amrito lagto. Shudhu Bijoya Doshomi te ektu choot chilo, tao Ma choke ishara na kora porjonto khawa shuru korte partam na.

Barite ami baddho meyer maton Ma ja dito jal-khawar’e kheye nitam kintu bon’er pochondo maton khawar na hole O khetona. Ma kono dino notun kichu snacks banato na. shei patent bread-omelette ar dhoodh. Baro mashe aki menu. Ami ager porbei bolechi amar ma’yer hather omelette bhalo lagto na, kichutei bujhtam na kano. Akhan bujhi, akta dim’e half teaspoon noon ditto ebong ajo dai. Ma’yer noon priti ta tokhon bujhtam na. Roj sakale baba 8.30 te office beriye jeten. Berobar shomay amra full-family baba’ke see-off korte barandai ashtam. Bon ektu extra effort niye gate porjonto babake see off korte jet ar mauka dekhe paliye jeto para berate. Ma’yer kaDa nirdesh gate jano thik bhabe bondho thake noile bon paliye jabe.

Proti sakal’er aki drishyo. Ekghare baba ready hocche office jawar jonno ar o-ghare bon ready hocche para-berabar jonno. Roj sakal theke para berano shuru hoto or ar bari firto dupur 1 tai. Akei ato roga ar barite breakfast o korto na. Loke’ra ma’ke bolto,”choto meyeke ektu khawan, shobta ki baro meyeke khawacchen??”.
Sune mayer khub raag hoto ebong dukkho peto. Tai ma’yer nirdesh je baba berotei gate jano bandho hoye jai jate bon para barate na pare.

Kintu bon kothai shunbe?? Gate bondho hole O kaNta tarer talai suor’er rasta diye ga goliye beriye jeto ar kothai dure miliye jeto tar kono thikana nei. Ar shekhan theke ma’yer pokkhe oke chase kara shombhob na. Ami jatha riti boi niye boshe portam, ma breakfast baniye dito ar bolto, “ahare meyeta para-beriye baracche, kheteo pelona”.


Jathariti dupur aktai bari firlen tini. Jane ma rege bom, tai ehsei golper jhuri khule boshlen. “ma janoto, oi maya pishi ar pishor jhogda hocchilo. Ar notun bou bomi korche, mone hocche kichu akta habe. Ar bultu pishir thoNte fora hoyeche. Dadu’r pet kharap hospital gache.” Ettadi never ending. Jader naam nilam tara shabai amader protibeshi onnano barite thake. Ei shob shune ma bollo ,”thak ebar chan kore kheye nao, ajkal to breakfast o kara haina apnar”.

Ami jiggesh korlam ,” tui atokkhon na kheye ki kore thakish re”.
“kal tokeo niye jabo. Tui suor’er rasta diye berote parbi to?”.
“ha beriye jabo”, jantam na kato kastokar byapar ota amar jonno.


Kal holo, bon ready. Amake bollo ready thakte, baba berolei ak chute oi rasta diye gole beriye jete habe. Ma amader plan kichui jane na. Baba berolo, bon chutlo, boner pechone amio chutlam. Bon nimeshe taar’er fak diye beriye galo ar ami atke gelam. Bon beriye chut rastai, ar ami atke. Pechone takiye dekhi ma teDe-meDe ashche amar dike, dhora porle to gechi akebare. Shamne bon chuteche pechone ma chutche majhe ami feNse. Hatath bon dekhlo ami nei or pechone, o doure eshe taar ta arektu uthiye dhorlo ar ami pran bachiye beriye elam. Ebar ma kaNta tarer oi pare daaNt kirmir korche ar amra ei pare, bachoa.

Ami edik odik na takiye shoja Bonti pishi’r bari chutlam, pechon theke bon daak dilo age bonti pishi na, age bultu pishi… “ Bultu pishi, oder bari to ami jiboneo jaina “
Bon bollo, “8.30 te Bultu pishi, bonti pishi’der bari 9 tai”.
Amio or katha shune or pichu dhorlam.

Barir dorja kholai chilo, bon shoja dhuke galo. Ami bollam “ektu knock kar”.
O chole galo shoja kitchen. Okhane bultu pishi jal khawar poribeshon korche plate’e.
Dhukei bon janalo,”bubli’o (amar naam) esheche, ajke duto plate’e debe”.
Bultu pishi ar ki korbe dilo duto plate’e chirer poha. Ota oder patent jalkhawar. Ami ar tubli oder barir uthon’er shiri te boshe porlam plate hate. Amar khub lajja-lajja korchilo ei bhabe loker bari khawa. Ma dekhle ki jani ki korto??
Bon ektu pare chechiye uthlo, “Bultu pishi ajke poha ta ektu kam-kam mone hocche?”.
Amar mukh lal, tao gilte kharap laglo na, ma erom poha konodino banato na.

Bon fatafat shesh kore bollo ,”tui taratari kha shomir kaka beriye jabe”.
(Shomir kaka, ar akta bari, era char bon dui bhai. Shomir kaka roj sakale 9 tai office beroto.)

Kono rokhome kheye, bultu pishi ke kichu na bolei, plate chere dourrr… shoja shomir kaka’r bari. Dhuktei didu(shomir kaka’r ma) jiggesh korlen, “ki re ajke ato deri holo ashte”.
“oi bubli ke niyeeshechi, shomir kaka’r khawa hoye gache naki”. Khub aschorjo shoho jiggesh korlo bon.
“na ei matro boshlo, tor share ready ache”.

Shomir kaka’r rojkar menu’r moddhe akta jinish amader khub prio chilo “alu posto”.
Ma konodino alu posto banato na. Shomirkaka just bosheche, bhat makhche, bon hajir. Bonke dekhe bollo,”ei ney tor share”.
Bon ar ak hath pete bollo, “ bubli’r share ta ekhane diye dao”.
“aj bubli’keo sathe enechish naki?”
“ha ebar theke o roj ashbe”.
Shomir kaka ar ektu bhat makhlo alu-posto diye ar amra khelam. Aaahhh!! Ki taste.. ajo mone ache shei taste.. ar bujhlam kano bon sakal-sakal para barate jeto..

Ektu pare dadu ke dekhte pelam, jiggesh korlam,” dadu tomar pet kamon ache?” (ma bolto karur shorir kharap hole jiggesh korte hai).
“Amar pet-e ki holo?? Ami to bhaloi achi.”
Bujhlam kal ma’yer hather marer bhoye bon GUL marchilo.

Kichukkhon parei didu bole uthlen, “ ki re bubli ki shunchi??? Tor baba naki tor ma’ke ghore bondho kore diyeche, she berote parche na…”.
“koi na to”, ami bollam.
Bon fik-fik kore heshe utheche, bujhlam ar akta GUL dhora porlo or.

Didu pan’er bata khule 3 te paan banalo, akta nije khelo akta amai ar akta bonke dilo. Bon baaN hath pete , “Ar akta, ma’yer jonno”.
Bujhlam aj paan diye ma’ke impress kara habe.

Dadu bollo,”ja ebar 11’ta beje gache, baby bariye jabe”. (babydidi ar akta protibeshi, bihar’er lok. Babydidi roj 11.15’e college jeto ar apnara nischoi jene gachen amra ki korte jacchi )


11’ta bajte na bajtei amar haath dhore tene Babydidi’r bari niye galo.
Amader dekhe aunty bollen, “aao, tumhare liye bhi rakha hai”.
“aaj do plate aunty, didi bhi aaye hai, aur abse roj aayegi”

okhaneo gillam, ar pete jaiga nei. Okhan theke chutlam ar ak bari, kumar uncle. Sonu(uncle ‘er chele school theke fere shei shomay) fire ota or lunch time 12.30 pm. Bas jotha riti okhaneo khelam, ar mone-mone bhablam jodi er ektuo ma jante pare tahole ki habe???

To ei chilo amader perfect timing. Amio oke besh kayekdin jog, dilam tarpor school khule galo ar shob kichu bandho hoye galo… Shei bar boner ‘o school e admission holo. Ma ajobdhi janena amader ei shob kando, janle ar ajker din dekhte hotona…

Madhurima Acharya
15th July' 07

FEW PAGES OF MY LIFE...

PART I:

I woke up before dawn. I had troubled sleep last night. Maybe because of the journey I made. My eyes were sore due to lack of sleep. A sharp pain at the right side of my head was bothering me for a long time. I thought it will ease with time but it was growing with every passing minute. The pillow under my neck felt hard and the pain was spreading its arms crossing behind the ear lobes on its way to the neck. I got up from bed, looked out of the window. It was still dark outside. Time was 3.30 in the morning. I desperately wanted to see the first light of the sun. I took out a saridon from my side bag and gulped it with a glass of water. The room opens to a big balcony where I eased myself in a chair. The breeze was cool on my flesh. It had a healing effect as if it’s sweeping away my ailment. A sweet smell of incense sticks were floated in the air everywhere. There was serenity in the atmosphere. Far somewhere in some temple the first entreaty was made to the God. I could hear the bells of temples from all directions as if this place had seen its day long before than others. The sky changed its colour from black to red and then yellow. The first ray of light penetrates the sinful darkness and devours it in no time. It ushers the ray of hope and bliss. It was a new day with new dreams and expectations. But was it going to make any change in my life?

I was bored of the uniformity of life. Work & home, my life revolved around these two words. Life was otherwise gliding smooth, I had a good job which earned me a handsome salary at the end of the month. I never faced any big problem in life. Since childhood I was over protected. My parents were always around me to give their best. After finishing engineering I got a decent job. I traveled many places in the country and abroad. There I met my wife in my office. We were deeply in love and decided to marry. I remember those wonderful days of my mid twenties. The best time of my life with my ‘best’ girl. There was a passion in life and a deep urge to subsist. Surely, love can do wonders. The day starts with her call and ends with her sweet voice. There wasn’t a moment passed we didn’t hear each other. The times that we spent together, long drives, long walks hand in hand under the moonlight sky, candle lit dinners, our passionate weekends, her mischievous giggle that could bring back someone into life from death-bed. Those are memories now… MEMORIES… They say it plays a confusing role in life. They make u laugh when u remember the time u cried together and they make u cry when u remember the time u laughed together… little dewdrops from the sky brought me back into reality. My head was wet so as the shoulder of my T-shirt. I went inside. I saw Riya sleeping sound. Unaware of what had happened to me last night. When she sleeps she looks like an angel. I kissed her forehead and went to bathroom. I took a warm shower and changed into a black t-shirt and ash-coloured cargo pants. Riya sleeps till late in the morning. She had habit of taking sleeping pills, without which she could not sleep. I left the hotel room without waking her up.


Yamunotri, the source of river Yamuna situated between Rishikesh and Uttarkashi. This place is always known as pilgrimage destination. But apart from that, it has full of natural beauty. Surrounded with western range of Himalayas covered with snow, heavenly meadows, gushing streams, holy rivers and lush fields. The nature and its unbeatable beauty is enough to revive oneself. There were lots of big and small temples of all kind of Gods, in all directions makes it the home of divinity. The day started for the locals before the emergence of sun-light. People are busy with their daily chores. There was a boy serving tea and hot samosas to the tourists and locals, in his small tea shop. People were sitting on benches and charpai outside the shop. I made myself comfortable on a bench and ordered a cup of tea. The boy ran inside and came out with a glass of tea with strong smell of cardamom.

‘Samosa saabji?’, he asked.
‘No’.
‘What’s ur name?’
‘Shyamnarayan, but people call me shyam saabji’.
‘Where do u live?’, I asked inquisitively.
‘On the other side of the hill’.
‘How much do u get working here?’
’20 rs per day with meals’.
‘Do u study?’
‘What to study saabji? We have one school in our area with a teacher also, but I don’t find time to go there. Who will work here? ’
I looked at him with dismay, ‘ Only one teacher for all the subjects?’
‘Yes, he is very educated and he knows everything’.
I nodded with a smile.
‘Who are there in your family?’
‘My mother and my brother’
‘And your father?’
‘He lost somewhere in the hills. Long ago he went to a neighbor village and didn’t return since then’.
‘U didn’t look for him? Didn’t u inform the police station?’, I asked him straight looking into his eyes.
‘ Pujari ji says he will return on his own one day with the blessing of MataRani.’
I was surprised and I didn’t know what to say then he continued, ’People say he is in the possession of the devil of the bridge. They have seen him crossing the bridge after the sun-set”.
‘Devil of the bridge?’, I uttered after him.
‘Yes, there is a ghost of Meethi ba on the bridge. We don’t cross it after the dark’.



I read in many stories in my childhood about the apparitions of hills. I was not surprised by the belief of these people. Getting acquainted with ghost in the holy land of God was more than exciting for me. I was curious to know more about it.
So I asked, ’Have u ever seen a ghost?’.
‘Many times saabji. You shouldn’t call their names after the dark falls or they will possess your mind and body”.
‘Can u show me one?’, I asked.
‘ They cant be invited. They are everywhere in every form; man, woman, children, animals, trees; in any form.’

I finished 4 cups of tea while talking to him.
‘Tell me something more about that ghost of Meethi’.
‘Saabji people come and ask here about God and temples and u are asking about ghosts? Don’t u fright of them?’
‘No I don’t, I can make ghost, friends. Now tell me about Meethi’. I smiled and caressed his hair.
‘I don’t know much about her but she is there for a long time. People say she was the goddess of beauty when she was alive’.
‘Then how did she die?’
‘One evening she jumped from the bridge and ended her life. Since then she is seen to everyone whoever cross the bridge at night.’
‘Why did she end her life?’
‘I don’t know. But my father used to say that she was the most beautiful woman of this part of Yamunottri.’

I wanted to know more about the whole story but this boy was not able to provide any concrete information. So I paid him Rs. 20, Rs. 8 for the tea and rest for his time. He was happy. I waved at him and left the shop. I looked into the watch, it was 11 am. Ria must be awoken by now. I should return to the hotel soon.


PART II:

Ria and I were married 6 years back with our families consent and blessings after 3 years of courtship. Ria was more homely than I thought, she decided to quit her job after marriage and she did. Things were falling right into places for few years. We were enjoying our togetherness. Then life took its course, I started working hard to earn a good fortune. My responsibility increased both at work and home. People around me were keeping high expectations from me. Somehow I was shattered between my inner and outer world. I was tired and exhausted. I didn’t realize when the distance started growing between us. She was not the same woman I knew. She had changed a lot. She doesn’t enjoy my presence anymore. By the time I reach home every-night, she finished her dinner and went to sleep. My dinner was always served on the dining table. We used to sleep like strangers on bed. There was no chemistry in our touches. Previously, even after fight, the slightest accidental touch used to melt our anger into love. But now she doesn’t respond my touch anymore. The differences grew more and more with each passing day. Most often she was lost in a book or sitting alone near the window looking outside in the void. We were neither quarrelling nor blaming each other for anything. We were not communicating in the real sense. The words were limited to the exchange of our needs. On Sundays we finished our dinner without exchanging a word. I tried speaking to her but her reply was brief and to the point. Later I observed she couldn’t sleep properly. She started having fits at night. I took her to a psychotherapist for medication. She was treated for acute depression. For last 2 years she couldn’t sleep without sleeping pills. How could my Ria changed so much??


I brought Ria to this place with doctor’s prescription. He said she needs a change, it might help to bring her back to life. Ria was a spiritual woman, so I chose Uttrakhand for the vacation.

As I reached the hotel, I found Ria dressed in a red saree and ready with the offering in a plate. She didn’t have her breakfast, but I was hungry. Without wasting anytime we left the hotel and headed to Yamunotri Temple. There she went inside and finished her prayer while I was waiting on the steps of the temple. I wished I could find something to eat there, but all shops were keeping sweet-coated sweets or coconut for offering, and I had no wish to eat those. She came out of the temple and joined me to a local dhaba on the way down to the hotel, for some breakfast. We were eating in our plates and I started with small talks to break the silence. I saw she was interested in talking more than her usual days. I told her about my encounter with the boy in the tea-shop and also told her about the ghost..


PART III:

The next day I took a walk on the roads and watched the local women doing their households. I was walking towards the bridge. The place had inexplicable beauty. This bridge mainly made with iron, wood and other materials, that bridges the gap between the two hills. Its one side was Yamunotri and other side was Gangotri. The holy river, Ganges was flowing under it. The beautiful range of Himalaya makes the place phenomenal. There was serenity and peace all over the atmosphere. I smirked with the thought that the ghosts have chosen the best place for their existence.


There was a guard, sitting at one end of the bridge. I asked him if he had seen any ghost here.
He said, ’History witnessed many people died on the bridge and their spirits are always seen now and then. Especially after dark no one dares to cross the bridge alone.’
‘I want to know about Meethi. What happened to her?’
‘How do u know this name?’
‘That boy at the tea-shop told me’, I pointed towards the far end of the hill.
‘Oh! the ghost possess his fathers body. He is not seen since many years. But Meethi’s spirit is not harmful. Many people claims, they have seen her on the bridge, wearing a white saree, her head covered with one end of her saree. You can’t see her face, but once in a blue moon she is seen without the veil.’

He paused for a while and said, ‘ She was a very beautiful woman. She was a ‘Devdasi’, lived in a temple nearby. She devoted her life to God. Then one day people accused her of having an illegal relationship with the priest of the temple. She couldn’t bear the allegation made on her and she jumped from here and ended her life. But saabji why are u interested in her? ’
‘No nothing. Can I see her if I come at night?’
He looked at me in surprise, ‘I would advice you not to come here at night but if u insist you can see her at the middle of the bridge. But when you see her don’t get scared otherwise u will either die of an heart attack or an accident.’

I thanked him and returned to my hotel. I decided to come again at night to see that beautiful apparition.

At night I told Ria that I have to e-mail some documents to my office so I need to find a cyber-café. I promised I would return within an hour or two. It was close to full moon. The silver light was spread all over. I could see the roads without any torch light. I took the path to the bridge and reached there in 30 mins. I went at the middle of the bridge and strolled there for some time, with a hope that I would see Meethi. The breeze was cool and amusing. I wondered what I was doing at this hour leaving my wife at hotel room? Waiting for a ghost? But why? What if she kills me? What if I get a heart attack by seeing her real, like that guard said. All sorts of questions were wandering my mind. It had been 3 hours waiting for a ghost to come. I couldn’t see anyone nor could I feel anything. I was disappointed and angry. I couldn’t afford to prolong my stay there, leaving Ria at hotel alone. So I returned.

PART IV:

After returning hotel I found Ria very restless. I was gone for more than 4 hrs leaving her alone in a strange place like this. I liked her concern and calmed her with a gentle caress on her back. While having dinner together I explained her everything happened. I told her how I waited 3 hrs on the bridge chasing the ghost of Meethi. She was surprised by my act. I assured her that ghost doesn’t exist on earth. These are superstitions. But deep in my heart I wished it was real. I wished I could at least had a glimpse of Meethi. Was it Meethi’s unadulterated beauty or the fact of confronting a ghost for the first time, I didn’t know which was it that attracted me so much towards the bridge.

The following day we went to temple and after that we had lunch in a local dhaba. After that we visited few sights of the place. I was determined to visit the bridge one last time with the hope to see the apparition. I asked Ria to take her dinner and medicine on time. I told her where I was going, that I might return late at night.

It was a full moon night and the locals believe that on this day she can be surely seen.
I went to the bridge like the last night. Things were undisturbed and everything was right at place. It didn’t seem to me that it had been 24 hrs since I visited last this place. Everything was same as yesterday except the moon. It was brighter today. I was taking a stroll on the bridge waiting something to happen. I didn’t want to leave empty-hand this time. Almost 3 hrs past nothing happened. I lost all hopes and made my mind to return. I turned back and started walking to the other end of the bridge, suddenly I saw someone wrapped in a white saree approaching me. I was stunned. My senses were wrecked. My hands and feet were numb. My mouth was dried and throat was choked. I thought I was about to faint. As the distance between us was diminishing inch by inch, I reminded myself that what keeps me here? I assembled all my courage and strength and stopped at one place. I didn’t move as she was very close to me. I couldn’t see her face clearly as it was under the veil partially. She kept her hair open and I could see her lips under the veil. I was standing there with astonishment and she passed by me. She didn’t look at me. Suddenly unconsciously, I called her name ‘Meethi!!!!!’. She stopped for a while turned back to me. Then suddenly she jumped off the bridge. I could hear the splattering noise of water as her body plunged into the river. I could not believe my eyes and ears. Was it all real or just an imagination? I was contented with what I had experienced. I was running fast towards hotel and entered inside the room. I looked for Ria, she was not seen anywhere. Balcony, corridor, lobby everywhere… she was not seen. I went to the reception and enquired about her. They saw her leaving the hotel in a white saree 2 hours ago.

Madhurima Acharya
29th July' 07

MY LAST MEETING WITH MY BEST FRIEND..

Part I: Introduction

This is a story of two friends. Long time ago, Harsh and Siddhartha were studying in a boarding school at Shimla. Here is the story from Harsh ‘s point of view. Me and Sidd met in this boarding school at Shimla. We were both of the same age. I was serious and studious. On the other hand Sidd was mischievous, fun-loving and full of life. I came from a middle class family; my father was a Principal in a government higher secondary school at Uttaranchal. He wanted his son to be a success one day. So he took pains to cut down his luxuries to bring up his son in a good school like this away from home. He was a man of strong principles. All my life I have learnt to live by the small means I was provided with, and dreamt of living up to the expectations of my parents. On the contrary, Sidd came from an affluent background where he and his family had never compromised on anything they wanted. His father was a rich businessman in Delhi. He wanted Sidd to finish his school and join him in their family business.But there was something else in our destinies. Both of us wanted to see our parents happy but somewhere down the line I had this strong inclination towards music. I wanted to be a musician. Sometimes I would compose few lines inspired by the beauty of the hills and nature and give it a tune and sing it to myself. On the other hand Sidd was very fond of gadgets, cars and machinery. He never wanted to do business in his life. He never missed any article of a newly released machine. I was the one to finish the homework and he always used to copy it from me before dawn. We were different in our own ways but somewhere our chords sang the same tune.

Despite our many differences we were the best of friends and wanted to live together ever after. We shared the same room in our hostel till we finished our schooling. We used to study together, play together, eat together and even fell for the same girl in our class. It was a funny incident. We were in class 9 at that time and this girl had recently joined our school. We were at the height of our imaginations in those days. Most of our time was spent reading Mills & Boons under the bed cover. We spent a lot of money on batteries in those days; we needed them to read M&B late at night when the lights of the rooms were switched off. Pallavi, as her name was, was no less than any M&B heroine. Pink skin, straight hip-length black hair, pink lips, dark eyes, tall figure but a little over weight which we didn’t mind, after all real life heroines can’t be completely like those between M&B covers. We both had a soft-corner for this girl but we never shared it with each other. I was a meek person and perhaps the last one to propose to someone like her. Meanwhile, I also noticed some changes in Sidd’s behaviour. He was more into studies. He finished all his homework before time so that he could help out the new girl with his notes. One day late at night after dinner I told Sidd that I had a strange feeling in my heart about someone and maybe I was in love. He confessed he was in love too. And we both curiously asked our beloved’s name and guess what?? It was PALLAVI!! Huh! We laughed and laughed that night, and we both sacrificed our first love for each other. Sometimes too much friendship is harmful, we both realized that day.

On my 14th birthday I got the best gift of my life. Sidd bought me a fine red colored acoustic guitar. It was the dream of my life but I could never have enough money to buy one. Without my knowledge Sidd planned for the gift for many months and saved every penny his parents had sent him for pocket money. For many months he was not even buying any new magazines on gadgets. Soon after that I started taking my guitar lessons from Mr. E.M. Emanuel, our music teacher. At that time I had a strong desire to gift my friend the best car in the world one day. Those are loving memories.


Part II: Our first meeting after we left school.

We finished our school and promised to keep in touch. In those days Internet was not there and phones-calls were expensive. The best means to remain in touch were letters. We exchanged letters for many years. I got admission in BA (Music hons) in a college of Uttaranchal. My father disapproved of my decision of taking music as career. He said it had no future, but all those technical books were not meant for me. I found solace in music and I listened to my heart. From one of Sidd’s letter I gathered that he got admission in some engineering college in Delhi. I always knew he will make a good engineer. We went our different ways. I finished my studies and tried my luck in a musical band. Soon things fell apart, and I started singing in clubs and small gatherings to survive. But I was happy with what I could make at the end of the day.Years passed; I was in touch with Sidd through mails. In one of his letters he said he met a girl at his work place and soon they were going to be married. He was a successful man now. For me life was a continuous struggle. It was for ever a fight to survive. By this time I was also married but life was not easy for me. There was an extra mouth to feed but little money. Time passed; off late mails were exchanged after long gaps, as we were both busy with our lives.

Then one day in the month of June I was heading to Delhi for a musical concert. I didn’t have any reservation but I had to reach there by next day. I was in the station in the tatkaal queue to make a quick reservation but unfortunately I didn’t get one. To my surprise I heard someone calling my name and it was Sidd! I was utterly surprised and amused. We hugged and greeted each other. After all we were meeting after 10 long years. He had changed a lot. He was grown into a man, tall and stout, with a bushy moustache wearing jeans and a red T-Shirt. We sat in the railway cafeteria and chatted for a long time. I told him how urgent it was for me to reach Delhi and to my surprise he took out a ticket to Delhi from his pocket and asked me to travel by it. He said he came here to finish some project and was due to return today. But he had to prolong his stay because his work was not done. He gave his phone number (some 10 digits mobile number) and I kept it in my side bag. Soon after that the train arrived in the platform and I boarded it. The train started and we waved at each other. I was quite relaxed to see my best friend happy. My memories were revived. Thinking of old days I fell fast asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up for water. The train had stopped at a station. Hawkers were moving in and out of the compartment. I found no water in my bottle, so I got down to refill it. The tap was little distant from my compartment ( I was traveling in S12, the last compartment). I got down to fill my bottle and to my dismay the train started. I didn’t realize it until it was too late and I could not board the train. Alas! I missed the it with all my luggage including Sidd’s phone number.

I sat on the platform and cursed my luck. I cried and then decided to wait till morning for my next move. Suddenly there was a rush all over. The train I had missed was derailed somewhere 56 km from there. Almost everyone from coach numbers S10, S11 and S12 were dead. A shock ran through my veins. I thanked God for saving my friends life. Had he not given the ticket to me he would have died today. Maybe nobody cared about my death but his life was important.

Part III: Our Second meeting

It has been many years. I was 38 then. Things were not same as before. People knew me as a small time guitarist by now. I had made a small fortune. My father died after 3 heart attacks some 3 years back. My wife left me long time ago as she could not afford to live without luxury. She took a job in Mumbai and was living in an apartment provided by her office. I never heard from her since she left. I had no contact with Sidd, either, as he never replied to my mails and I had lost his phone number. I missed him very much. For a change I decided to visit Shimla with my mother for a week. Without wasting time we headed for Shimla. I was back into life. The scenic beauty of Shimla, the unforgettable memories of childhood revived me. I wanted to live again. I missed Sidd very much. One morning I was browsing some old cd’s and cassettes in a local music shop and suddenly I saw Sidd again. I was overwhelmed. Finding my lost friend like this in the lap of the hills was the last thing I expected. We hugged with joy and love. I was surprised to see him look very young. He was looking not a day older than when I had seen him last. I asked him the reason of his youth and charm. He said peace of mind. Yes peace is most important. He had a loving wife, children, parents. His life was different from mine. If I were Sidd my wife would never have left me. I would’ve treated my father in a better hospital. He said he bought a house on the hill-top, where he spends his summer holidays every year. I could find him in the month of May every year there. On asking him why hadn’t he replied to my mails he said he had shifted to Bangalore. So he never received my letters. I rode on his jeep to see his house and family.

We were cutting the edges of the narrow roads of the hill to reach the top. I asked him, "Are you happy Sidd?". He smiled and said, "Yes I am. I am free from all tensions. But one thing that bothers me is you, my friend. I can’t communicate with anyone like I can with you. I miss you. I want you to join me here forever". I smiled and asked "Where? Here at your new house?"He replied, "Yes right here right now".I asked, "What about your wife? She hardly knows me. Won’t she oppose to this idea?""No she won’t come between us. She is happy with her life and kids".Then suddenly my mobile (by this time I had a mobile of my own) rang. It was from Shimla general hospital. Mother was sick, the hotel guys had admitted her to the hospital and gathered my phone number from the log book and rang me up. I explained to Sidd and made an excuse. I reached the hospital and found my mom stable. She was not keeping well for many days and maybe this weather didn’t suit her. I decided to return next day. Next morning I heard from the locals that there was a landslide on the way to hill-top. There were a few people who died and there was no communication between the two sides. I hoped my friend was all right. I called him at his mobile but the network was down. All communications were detached. I prayed to God for his safety and left Shimla with my mother.


Part IV: Our last Meeting

I wam 48 now. At 48 I look no less than 55. My mother is no more. I don’t enjoy playing guitar anymore. I am not keeping well from quite some time. I have lost a lot of weight. I have very little hair left on my skull and whatever remain are turning grey very fast. From quite some time I am suffering from cough and cold. It seems as if this cough will go with my last breath. Today I have fever and I am feeling very weak. No one is here to cook at home. The milkman returned as I couldn’t get up from bed early in the morning. I miss Sidd. It seems I made a mistake while taking down his number. Every time I call, a lady speaks from the other side "The number you have dialed is incorrect. Please check the number". I am fed up of listening to this voice and I have no clue. Someone knocks at the door. Who can it be? Newspaper wallah or maybe Kamla (my maid) has come. I gather all my strength to get up from the bed as I have to let the maid in, who will cook for me. I open the door and I am most surprised to see Sidd again. Forever young and handsome.

I laugh and ask him, "How do you always meet me when I think of you from the bottom of my heart?".He replies "I am in your heart dear, now don’t leave me alone this time". We hold each others hand and walk across the aisle together. Suddenly I hear a cry. Who is this? It is Kamla. And why is she crying? She is running out of my house? What did she see there? I go inside with Sidd besides me and I am astonished to see myself lying on the bed. I am confused. I don’t understand.
Then Sidd says, "You’ve left your body my dear. And this is the truth."
He continues, "I left this world a long time back. After that I came thrice to take you with me. Remember the first time I gave you a ticket to Delhi. I knew the train was going to derail. But it was your desire to survive, you escaped. The second time I came to take you at Shimla. But then you had to live to take care of your ailing mother. I let you go. But my friend this time I saw the desire of death in your eyes and how easily you held my hands this last time. Now don’t leave me ever my Friend. You are the only person I can connect to, My best Friend".

Madhurima Acharya
25th June' 07