Dream In A Rainy Day

Dream In A Rainy Day

  Ratan Lal Basu

  Copyright 2011 Ratan Lal Basu

  Contents

  Part-I

  Part-II

  Part-III

  Part-IV

  Part-V

  Part-VI

  Author

  Part-I

  Sandip opened his bleary eyes and peered at Bechu closely. His plump cheeks have become ruddy; the checkered necktie matches immaculately with his deep blue shirt that slopes down the pot belly into the cream colored pant, the bald circle at the middle of the head is shining like a mirror. Bechu took out a pack of Chesterfield cigarettes, himself lighted one and offered one to Sandip, and lighted it while Sandip held it to his lip in his shaky fingers and he looked aside to avert the obscenity of the reddish flicker highlighting the boobs and the pussy of the nude female shaped Chinese lighter.

  “Don’t worry Sanu, I’m here for you. Now you’re too weak to move. Take a few days’ rest and the doctor would also check up and prescribe treatment. I’m sure you would be fit in a few days and you’ll supervise my construction work.” Bechu’s voice sounded reassuring.

  Sandip felt the spongy seat of the Mercedes Benz cozy and reclined on the soft back while smoking the excellent cigarette. Bechu-da is absolutely right. He must have a few days rest. Assurance of the job and a secure place to stay removed his worries. It was good luck that Bechu-da came upon him on the street, just a coincidence. He felt languid from the very beginning but could trudge along for some time but eventually everything became dark before his eyes and his legs gave way. While his consciousness returned he saw a mob around him and someone sprinkling water on his face and forehead. Then he heard a sonorous voice requesting the mob, “Carry him to my car and I’ll take him to hospital. Looks like starving for some days.” Suddenly Sandip could recognize Bechu-da. In spite of sea changes, his eyes through the glasses look the same – bright and inquisitive. He at once mumbled, “Bechu-da!”

  It’s nothing unusual, he is a well known person, but this time the voice was intriguingly familiar and it did not take him much time to recognize the voice, “You’re Sandip. Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “How famished you have become! And the jungle of beard has made your appearance completely unfamiliar, but I could recognize your voice. What were you doing there?”

  “Just walking aimlessly, after release today. I’ve no where to go”

  “Oh-ho, I had completely forgotten about you. Yes the government has decided to release the non-violent Naxals and withdraw all cases against them and rehabilitate them. You are a pure theoretician and I should have guessed that you’d be released today, but you know the high pressure of work in promoter’s job. Don’t say again that you’ve no where to go. Stay at my house and supervise my new construction works. I need a reliable person like you for the position. But everything after you’re up and around. I’ll send for the doctor after going home.”

  Part-II

  It was simply an accident and Sandip had no intention to commit the mischief. While taking a shortcut through the Baker Labs he noticed the haughty girl Arati in front of him and sped up to bypass the girl whose sarcastic comments and pride because of her results in the Senior Cambridge exam. had always been irritating to him and in haste he stepped on the back of her hawai-chappal which snapped at once. Sandip started preparing himself for the oncoming storm, but nothing happened and the girl looked up with sad eyes as though she would burst into tears and muttered, “How can I go out now?”

  Sandip felt guilty and said apologetically, “Come to the College Street market and I’ll buy you a new pair. It’s my fault. Now wear mine for the time being.”

  He took out his sandals and placed them near her feet.

  She now smiled to the relief of Sandip, “Oh my god, how can I wear these large chappals. You really have demon’s feet.”

  “You can do with them somehow for a short while.”

  “But you?”

  “It does not matter to me. I don’t care what others would think if I move barefooted.”

  “O.K., you need not spend your money. This is just an accident and you’ve not done it intentionally I know well. Simply accompany me to the shop.”

  She looked different today to his surprise and offered to have tea or coffee. Sandip preferred the coffee house but she told she does not like the noise and moreover, if the friends find them together, they would fabricate stories. So they walked along the M. G. Road and Surya Sen Street, had kachuri from Mouchak restaurant and tea from the footpath tea stall Chhota Amzadia.

  They decided to meet the next day. Only first three honors classes are important and they may easily cut the pass classes and for percentage, proxy could be arranged. To avoid curiosity of the batch-mates they would not meet anywhere near the college and they would go separately to esplanade corner at the appointed time.

  They met at esplanade, had coffee and chicken pakora at Chowringhee restaurant and strolled along the side walks of the J. Nehru Road keeping the Metro cinema hall and the gorgeous Grand Hotel to the left, diverted to Park Street and then towards the Raj Bhawan along the Red Road. The esplanade with the arrays of football grounds, the fast flowing cars, the lofty tower of the Victoria Memorial, the race course, the rows of trees of garer maath (Fort William Ground), turned into a dreamland which they leisurely strolled through and keeping the football galleries to the left and tree laden Ranji Stadium to the right they entered into the romantic Eden Garden and talked for hours sitting close to the exquisite Burmese Pagoda. They told each other of their lives at school and family. Sandip’s family with his widowed mother (his father died of cerebral stroke a few years back), his loving brother and sister-in-law and above all, the charming nephew and niece, was a happy one. Their house is close to the Burdwan town. His father’s transport company is now looked after by his elder brother Pradip.

  Arati’s life at their Palm Avenue house is not at all happy. Both the parents work in large private concerns. They very often get drunk and quarrel and both are involved in extra-marital affairs. She feels disgusted at home and wants to leave the house at once, but she’ll have to wait till she completes study and gets a job.

  During his school life Sandip had visited Calcutta several times, the first time at class four in their jeep with parents and Pradip. It had rained heavily and the driver had to take detours to avert the water-logged roads. They visited the Zoo, the Victoria Memorial, the Museum and many other sites of interest and in the evening they entered the Hog Market. It was still drizzling when they came out of the posh market and the driver stopped the jeep at roadside to buy something from the footpath. Sandip looked out the window of the jeep and was enchanted by the dreamland of drizzling esplanade opening up in the glow of the neon lights. The esplanade in evening lights today unraveled its mystic charms once again and Sandip felt he’s floating across the dreamland with a fairy from the heaven.

  They began to meet occasionally and visit various places in and around Calcutta. At times they would seat at the bank of the Ganges in the Botanical Garden at Shibpore and reminisce the nostalgic days at school. They also chalked out their future plans. Both agreed to continue higher studies in the USA after completion of M. A. from Calcutta University and get settled there after marriage.

  At times they would quarrel over differences in opinion, e.g. Uttam Kumar vs. Saumitra Chatterjee, Gregory Peck vs. Omar Sheriff, East Bengal vs. Mohun Bagan, Di Stefano vs. Pele, Satyajit Ray vs. Ritwik Ghatak, Bibhutibhusan vs. Manik Banerjee, Hemingway vs. Faulkner etc. Each would argue strongly to establish the supremacy of his favorites but at the end they would come to the conclusion in the Kantian way that likes and dislikes are purely subjective matters and cannot be subj
ected to reasoning.

  It was drizzling from the very morning and Sandip and Arati strolled down the Red Road and sat in a bench in the Victoria Memorial Park. They folded the umbrellas and began to sing in chorus rain-songs while the droplets of rain drenched them. The ambience became mystic; things at distance were dimly visible through the hazy veil. They felt as though they are floating in an uncanny world. They stopped singing and looking at each other’s eyes got submerged in dream, the dream of a blissful future.

  Part-III

  Some student leaders were expelled from college because of their violent and unruly behavior in a library run by a foreign institution. The Students’ Union called a students’ strike and blocked the gates of the college preventing entry of the students. They demanded that the expelled students be taken back unconditionally but the