by Kunal Roy
It was a cold winter dusk. The silence fell on the ground. The cricket buzzed. I returned from my college after a hectic day’s schedule. It was more than a decade ago. I found my parents to be chatting among themselves. I went to my room and became busy with my phone. Little did I realise what fate was in store for us!
Little later my mother became busy with her chores. And my father was reposing on his bed. All of a sudden it was a bolt from the blue! I heard a scream of my mother. I feared the worst. I rushed to their room. I made my father take a different posture. And to my utter surprise, he was no more. The whole matter took just a few seconds to happen! I burst into tears. He was no more. Perhaps he forgot to breathe! Without wasting my time, I rang up our house physician. He turned up and declared him dead. The neighbours and relatives were called up. They came. They gathered. But the anguish didn’t fail to burn my mother and me. After a couple of hours, he was taken to the crematorium. The funeral rites were over. I returned with a burdened soul. Tears were there. Responsibility raised its brows. I fathomed the seriousness of the whole situation. Gradually I restrained myself from exposing further emotions. Turbulence never comes to a halt once you lose the closest fellow of the earth!
All banking formalities were completed on time. I began to take care of every single need of my mother. She was an asset too! Days passed. I fulfilled every single wish of my mother. And at this very hour, she too is not in my life. A life of solitude. A life where a sense of lacunae has become a predominant factor!
It is 8th January again. But with a difference. His thirteenth death anniversary. Nothing to celebrate. Nothing to utter anything more. Nothing to ponder upon. A single day where remembrance matters more than anything else.
Today whatever I am is because of him. He was even tormented by one of his younger brothers. But he never succumbed to such a thick-headed person whose only passion was to torture, humiliate and create an obnoxious ambiance after consuming alcohol to get inebriated. An honest performer of nefarious activities! On the other, despite being brilliant and knowledgeable my father was always a humble soul. Unlike his brothers, he laid emphasis on learning and discovering new things of life. Truly people walk in and walk out of our life. But the memories keep on teasing me without any second thought!!
About the Author:
Kunal Roy was born in Kolkata. He is a bilingual author. In 2007, he received the best award for his dissertation on “The Bhakti and Sufi Movements – A Socio -Religious Perspective” from the department of Indology and Research Studies, Ramakrishna Mission Institute of Culture, Golpark, Kolkata. He is also acknowledged as a poet and translator. His special areas comprise art, literature, art, philosophy, sociology, mythology and astrology. Currently, he is working as an Assistant Professor of English Language and Communication with the George Group of Colleges. He is a permanent resident of Kolkata. He can be contacted at kunalroychowdhury81@gmail.