May Day, 'Ma' was surprised when I said I'm still fooling around in my department and my communist father, now shaken and stirred by her shout, cursed the capitalist pigs once again before the sleeping pills reclaimed him .. and it was the moment that I remembered all the choicest expletives 'The Almighty'* hurled at me last week and how many times I told my girlfriend that I would call the next morning and how many times I missed ... I was depressed as usual ... and slowly I hung up ...
It's almost been three years now .. But I can still feel the throb like someone just punched me in the gut ... the 14th of April .. To me, the 'ekla boishkah' ... It was one of those days .. The usual hangover from the binge drinking from night before .. and Banwari-laal waking me up on the rooftop .. I was lying face-down on the last of the trampled cigarettes ... Minus the marijuana that we had last night .. I could feel the pieces of the puzzles slowly gathering around itself and the whole world making sense to me again ... And I heard a shout .. I stood up ... I looked out of the balcony and there it laid on the ground .. Not dead yet .. Just some minor cracks .. Looking at me - my life .. It was the day she left Kolkata forever ...
How long it would be? For me it's been no shorter than what the wise men say a lifetime .. I still remember that picture .. A rainy day and another bitter fight with my the-then girlfriend just ended in some weird accusations (you know you always did that!) ..and as always I ran out of 'fire' , literally, the drizzles had dampened my only matchbox .. I was on my way to the common room when I saw her .. running on the football ground .. all by herself .. trying hard to take that perfect shot at the ball but her thin legs only allowed her an inch of the ground every time. She was laughing and shouting and rolling in that puddle of mud, and suddenly I knew the best short story of life was about to begin ..
It was her, the 'witch' , my 'guardian witch' as she said it .. A troubled little girl , she would never know when she was made fun of or worse when she was making fun of ... and all those men .. they were nothing but a flash .. like a flicker they come and go ... whereto? .. she never knew ... Nor did I ..
Then, it was the Holi .. and I had just been shaken out of my dreams and slowly struggling towards Taposh-da ... still under the effects of those wonder-balls of heaven ("bhanger guli", for the lesser mortals) .. and I saw her, she was waiting for her six-packed boyfriend to wake up .. and I realized all these years of drug-abusing has, at last, come handy .. he didn't respond to her calls and my chivalrous-self rescued her from the agonizing lonely session at the tea-shop ... I really don't remember how the rest of the night went by, to be honest, I just remember some faint images .. the rail-tracks over the bridge and the shadowy lane beneath it .. the innumerable "cheyer-dokans" and an unforgettably bright full moon ... so big that you'll start to think if you walk that extra mile you'll be touching it .. and hell yeah .. we touched it .. we did ..
(To be continued)
Note (some eight years later): I never meant to finish this story, maybe because some stories are better left incomplete ... but I did fall in love with this amazing woman, and now, many many years later, these images are the only memory I have of her. She is still a friend though. We follow each other on twitter and facebook throws up some random memories every year around this date. We are both as happy as the postcards on vintage bookshops wanted us to be. But I know I will always hold a candle for her.
