A Day, Still to Remember

A Day, Still to Remember … …

Then I was a lad of fifteen years old. My eyes were filled with dreams, thoughts and imaginations; my body was filled with energy and my mind was filled with diverse aspirations.

Basically I am a person who was groomed and nurtured in a village. Before reaching the age of twelve, I spent my babyhood and youthful years at my village. In that way my live style was quite a bit different from a life of a child of metropolis or a city. I fancied to take chances on the fields; I spent time with neighbouring persons at our village and always resided in a uniform and integrated manner. We never felt that we would part ourselves in future. But “man proposes God disposes”.

I had to take myself off from our village thinking about my future career. As usual there was no career prospects as such. High schools could hardly be figured out and in every step there were problems after problems. Eventually I had to migrate in Kolkata for pursuing higher education. After spending a year or so I again thought of paying a visit at our village. And finally I got my chances. There was a long alcove at our school during the months of summer.

The day finally arrived and I was already ready to start my dreaming venture. More the train started to gain its momentum; more beleaguered I began to feel. The only picture that repeatedly arrived before my eyes that when I would see my parents, when I would perceive my kins, my errant little sister so on and so forth. Long hours passed by. Eventually I reached my destiny. But at that point of eon dark clouds filled the sky and there was not a ray of light that penetrated through it. As if everything was pitch dark.

To shield myself from heavy shower I took shelter under a tree. I had no other alternative and not a single house or soothing shelter came to my eyes. No sooner had I placed myself under the leaves of the tree than a girl of my age also came to protect herself. But the most surprising feature about this was that none of us either talked or communicated with each other. Both of us were absolutely flabbergasted and dumb founded. Probably both of us wanted to say something but could not. After the weather appeared to be settled both of us started moving on either direction of the alike road. The girl moved in the direction opposite to mine.

After the above incident took place in my life thirty long years have passed. Now I am a father of two sons, a husband of a wife and hold a respectable and dignified position in the society. Yet I have not disclosed the matter to anyone; be it to my parents or my sons, or my wife o friends. More so, I also came across the tree three or four times after the above incident have occurred in my life. Every time I pass across the tree I feel that I would notice the girl that I saw thirty years before. Even I pause for a minute or two anticipating that I would spot the girl.

But till now my anticipations, dreams have not really converted into reality.

Now when I take time to ponder about the nostalgic incident, I feel that she also wanted to say something like me but failed. Perhaps a day will come when we would meet each other. After all the language of true love must be identical… …

Composed By: -
Saptarshi Dutt.