Meet Aniruddh

It's the balcony of the new house that the Rainlover is very proud of. Now spending at least 1-2 hours at dead night on that balcony, with beautiful music accompanying him, has become a daily routine for him. That night also wasn’t an exception. It was somewhere around 1.30 at night; the Rainlover was on his chair watching the quiet Delhi night, in slumber, in front of him. Just in front of his house, a small triangular park was resting in silence. The breeze was soothing and the trees of the park were responding with a smile by nodding their heads as the breeze was caressing them - as if expressing the happiness of silent and natural romance!

Suddenly, the Rainlover could see an all-white body emerging out of the darkness. It was an aged man with a white head, white kurta and white pajama - he reached a bench in the park, silently observed it for a while, cleaned it a bit with his palm and sat down. He was looking at his own feet. Though, his face wasn’t visible for that afar, yet the Rainlover could visualise the senior citizen's not-so-happy state of mind. The gentleman put his hand inside the pocket, brought out a cigarette packet from his pocket, brought out a cigarette from the packet, stood up, reached out for his pocket again, then the other pocket… sighed a bit… and sat down! He must've forgotten his lighter!

Being a smoker himself, the Rainlover could feel the agony the gentleman was going through with a helplessly unlighted cigarette in his hand! The Rainlover didn’t think twice, checked his own pockets and with a brief smile, took the stairs.

"I don’t smoke much… but…" the gentleman finished his unfinished sentence with a shy smile. The Rainlover said, "Happens." The gentleman took a puff in, let the smoke come out and sighed, "These days… health doesn’t permit. But you see, in those good old days, I've spent such intimate moments with my cigarettes that I haven’t spent even with my own people!" The Rainlover agreed again, "That's true…" The gentleman continued without any provocation or inspiration, "I was married for 2 years at your age… you must be 25-26.. right?" Then he answered himself, "Yes, I think so… are you married?" Before the Rainlover could manage an excuse to justify his single-hood or any alternate topic to get engaged into, the gentleman answered, "I don’t think you're married… then you mustn’t have come down to offer a lighter to this old fellow… if you were married, by this time you would have been…" then he started laughing heavily with at his own joke!

Looking at the empty street ahead, the man sighed again, "You know, I love my wife. Initially, when both of our parents forcefully got us married, I wasn’t happy. I used to feel irritated a lot. But she was different… her silence and patience had power, you know! She was so magnetic with her silence… and when she gave me Akash (son), I can't explain it to you… for the first time, I realised what love is!"

The gentleman needed some moments of his own, so the Rainlover didn’t ask anything. With another sigh, followed by a cute smile, the man said, "When Akriti (daughter) got married and Akash shifted to Bombay with his family, my wife became my whole world, you know! Only a retired man can appreciate the value of a life-partner!" Then he started coining his own words, "Life-partner! A partner for a life…. throughout the life… and then suddenly…" The Rainlover urged, "Suddenly??" The gentleman looked happy, yet lost - "Suddenly, young man, LIFE ENDS!"

The atmosphere, like the Rainlover, was clueless… the man was looking straight into the eyes of the Rainlover. The Rainlover couldn’t manage any word to break the uncomfortable silence, but the experienced fellow did - "She died last year - cancer!"

The Rainlover was looking at the burning cigarette butt on the grass… the man got up and sighed, "Today is our marriage anniversary!" He moved on, with a smile… after a while, the Rainlover got up and moved on!   

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side

Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by force of some inner tide

The words of Pink Floyd were setting fire in The Rainlover's mind. He wasn’t sure whether his vision was getting wider or was shrinking narrower. All he could make out of the breezy night that something uncanny is holding him with himself. He tried to explain it to his friends in a different note! He said, "it's actually confident loneliness!"

"Confident loneliness"! What's that? He explained, "Generally, loneliness pains. On general occasions, people reach out for others while they are alone, because they assume their loneliness to be unjustified, something that, may be, they don’t deserve." But "Confident loneliness"? The Rainlover asserted, "Well, it's a state of mind that resembles with solo mental paralysis…. In this case, the lonely person no longer reaches out for anyone anymore, because he finds his loneliness to be justified and well deserved! What more, it's very rewarding as well!"

Frankly asking, for all the 'been there seen that' people, what has loneliness to do with others? Why loneliness stands as a state of being which is marked with others' absence? Why do we always make it 'relative'? Why do we always tend to conclude that, one is lonely if there aren't people around him/her with whom he/she can share his/her intimate or 'sideway' feelings? The Rainlover personally feels it to be an 'error of judgement caused by over-simplifying psychological poral syndrome'!  

Relax
I'll need some information first
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts

There is no pain, you are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
When I was a child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons
Now I've got that feeling once again
I can't explain, you would not understand
This is not how I am
I have become comfortably numb

Now there you are! Pink Floyd explains this 'Confident Loneliness' as a state to be 'Comfortably Numb'… but one wonders, because of 'God-knows-what-prompted-reason(s)' they put forward the childhood resemblance of the simple-complexity stating "When I was a chind, I had a fever"!

Well, this fever is stated differently by William Wordsworth. He reather glorified it -

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,  

    The earth, and every common sight,  

            To me did seem  

    Apparell'd in celestial light,  

The glory and the freshness of a dream.          

It is not now as it hath been of yore;—  

        Turn wheresoe'er I may,  

            By night or day,  

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

Not only this, he goes on to say -

Thanks to the human heart by which we live,  

Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,  

To me the meanest flower that blows can give  

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

Now that's weird, isn't it. The Rainlover will always wonder, why such a profound truth about 'oneness' again and again is de-meaned by relativity! Why loneliness as a state of mind can't be singular? Why can't it be 'oneness'?

Are we so damn pluralists deep inside? Are we so democratically conjugate from heart that we almost always sucessfully end up adding sighs to oneness? Well, the Rainlover wants the learned souls to have a debate on it.

He never intends to say that plurarism is bad or associations are only safe-guards, but what he essentially wants to put forward is that - as 'I'm with my friends' brings gentle smile on our faces, what wrong 'I'm with myself' has done then? Is the reward on the latter case is of lower value? Well, frankly speaking, it's exactly the other way round. Creativity or achievement is mostly an impulsive reward… if that reward can come through others' association, it can very well come through oneness as well… and through ownness for sure!

All in all, the Rainlover firmly believes that pure sense of association with OTHERS with the right singular spirit is always welcome, but let's not reach out for others only because we're incomplete and lost inside! Let's not make our friends the Fill-Ups! And if we do that, which is very normal humane in nature, let's be humane enough and extend to guts to accept it, even before using it! Because, you know what, the same Pink Flod sing "Don't Leave Me Now" and "Wish You Were Here"… But thankfully, they extend their guts by saying -

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here...

The blog essentially is trying to portray the mental swings the Rainlover is going through currently… not meant to exhibit any un-called-for Gyaan. Taking it otherwise is readers' personal choice, the Rainlover would then be just an excuse for that!

God Bless You!

EnjoY~

My Dear Phool-da,

When this letter will reach you, after couple of days to that, it'll be 7th - Bhai-phota. I'm sending phota for you in this letter. Let there be no evil in your life. You're fine, right? the wind is chilly now. After Durga Puja, the season takes a new swing. The sun minimises its temper. The sky is spotless bright. Did you like the kurta I sent to you before puja?

Phool-da, nothing seems nice after you're left. When you were here, in those last days, so many troubles and fights came up. At deep night, when I used to go up to the terrace to see you once, you used to sleep like a kid. The moonlight used to fall on your childish beautiful face through the window. You looked so good. Now I feel so miserable. You tell me, what else can I do? What am I? What is my power? How can I explain how much it pained me to feel that I couldn’t keep you here?

That rainy day still sets fire in my mind, Phool-da! Each scene is so vivid till now! Endless rain was washing away everything….your friends were gathered at the main gate. Everyone in our family was crying. Maa was breaking into pieces, Baba had lost his mind… clueless, aimless... torn apart. Sejo-Mama was busy, packing your stuff. A Maruti van was waiting outside the gate. In last three months your insanity had crossed all barriers. It became a cause of worry to everyone. So much so that the doctor advised us to take you to Kalyanpur - in asylum!

Still I can see, you were staring with beautiful, yet void eyes. Your childhood friend, your dear friend Sujan-da was taking you slowly… to take you to the car! The entire colony was relishing the painful drama of our family. The mad son of Sen Babu was being taken to the asylum - what a rare spectacle! I was crying like crazy from the balcony! I wasn’t allowed to step down. It was me whom you used to love the most, Phool-da! It was raining heavily. Enthusiastic crowd was flooding everyone - everyone was having fun - rain couldn’t stop them. You sat inside the car - blank eyes. Sejo-Mama at one side, Sujan-da on the other - Baba took me there… holding my hands… I came in front of you. Baba's eyes were wet, speechless. Sujan-da stirred you, told you - 'Babu, Babu, see Babu… your Brishti has come to see you. Tell her goodbye!' Phool-da, you used to call me by Brishti! But you didn’t even look at me! I went on shouting - 'Phool-da! Phool-da!' you couldn’t hear my voice! You were dumbstruck like a stone - blank eyes… Baba said, 'Babu, your little sister has come… to see you off… look at her once, look at her.' You were motionless.

The car left for Kalyanpur through foggy raindrops… my mad Phool-da left his home! The entire house was breaking to tears like the sky of that day. It's been so long since you've left Phool-da… it's been four long years! The Maa who used to be so lively before, used to sing along in the entire house and used to do the household works like an addict, that Maa doesn’t sing anymore! She can't do her work with that perfection anymore. She just cries every time it rains… she cries a lot.

Phool-da, do you remember the photograph that was taken after you won the first prize in the school championship? Maa keeps that photograph under her pillow always. She touches that, kisses that…and…and breaks into tears.

Phool-da, it's been four years that you've left. The world around us has changed so much in these four years… Choto-Maashi got married, after Sejo-Mama has retired… his son Manik has got a job in that office only, the rooms of our second floor are complete now… now Maa and I stay in the southern room of the second floor. A new bike is bought, cooks are hired… But Baba is somehow quiet these days… doesn’t talk much like the old days… as if he's too old now…

Phool-da, your room at the terrace is locked till now… none opens that… none of us enters into that. You used to study in that room, used to paint, used to sing… what a beautiful voice you had Phool-da… Phool-da, do you remember, once in Rabindrajayanti, you sang in the local function - "Aji jhader raate tomar abhishaap… paran shokha, Bandhu hey amaar…"? Do you still remember Phool-da, everyone was so amazed to hear your song? I'd heard Baba telling Maa, "My son is a bit vagabond, but sings soooo nice!" And your paintings… those beautifully awesome paintings… they are now set in the drawing room… How could you paint so beautifully, Phool-da? You never learnt them from anyone.. neither singing, nor painting! Then how could you do those so beautifully? Your friends were so proud of you.. proud of your singing… paintings… you left home leaving all those behind.

We've been to Kalyanpur so many times… shades of green, shadows of green… it's a semi-urban village… far away from Kolkata… so many trees, so many ponds, so many birds… and your campus is also so beautiful, so quiet, so peaceful… Dr. Samanta is your doctor.. nationally famous doctor. He's known for his great skill to cure the mentally misbalanced people. You're far better now… not like the initial days. Now you don’t jump around anymore, don’t shout that frighteningly anymore… but you do whisper sometimes… you say something.. you try to say something… they try, but can't understood even a single word of it! They say, you're silent most of the time…

Phool-da, you were entirely different a man before. You used to look so handsome while smiling… you used to laugh with your heart out. Remember, you took me once to a mela? We rode the sings and I was frightened to death. But you were just laughing and laughing… I was sitting with closed eyes, your hands tightly held… after we got down, you patted on my head and said, 'Pagli! What's there to fear so much? Am I not here with you?'

Where Phool-da? Where are you now? I'm even more scared these days… Baba is almost down, Maa is so fragile now… as if someone has robbed this family's peace and happiness… all smiles, joys…life… all is robbed! I'm scared, too scared Phool-da…

You used to love a wild girl. I knew it. You didn’t tell me ever… but I knew it! Actually Pritha could never understand you… she wasn’t worth it ever. Your king-like beauty, that divine a voice, that beautiful a sense of art… these are all that attracted Pritha. But her main attraction was rich businessman Bijan Chawdhury! She had secret relationship with him… she kept it secret from you. You never knew it… and when you finally came to know it, then it was a disaster by then! Unmarried Pritha was pregnant by then… Pritha put the responsibility of it on your shoulder! My that song-loving, art-loving Phool-da got an identity of a characterless criminal in front of the whole locality.. whole society!

None knew where you were for next 7 days… everyone was clueless… Pritha's brothers had humiliated you in front of the whole locality.. they thrashed you like a thief is thrashed… you couldn’t tolerate that pain, that blow, that humiliation! After 7 days, you were found in railway station… senseless in high fever. Police picked you up, they left you at home… by then, you were complete mad.. couldn’t recognise anyone! What a time it was! So many doctors, so many people, jumping around everyone… but your insanity gradually intensified…. Phool-da, the one took your life away has a nice life now. Money power has washed away all the stains from her body, but Phool-da, you lost everything… your song unfinished, your paintings lost their colours… all the lights on Sen House are dark now.. they are stained now…

Phool-da, nothing seems right without you, my brother… I can hear you singing… you voice still floats in the winds on this house. Phool-da, please be fine soon, just like the old days… pleaseeee… so many miracles happen in this world, why can't one happen to you? You know, now a days I dream, that Maruti Van has come in front of the main gate, it's raining… the entire locality is lifeless.. you're stepping down from the car… with a smile.. smiling face… that smile…that was erased from your lips on a cursed moment … some four years back.. you get down from the car and start shouting - "Brishti, ei Brishti… you stupid, can't you see me getting wet.. bring an umbrella at once… Maa, o' Maa… which fish is there in kitchen today? What's there in the menu? I'm so hungry!"…..

Phool-da, can't it happen? Phool-da, will it never happen?

Phool-da, here is the phota on your forehead.. Bhai-Phota! - ""Bhaiyer kapale dilaam phota… jaamer duyaare podlo kaanta… jaam jemon amar, amaar bhai-o jeno temon amar hai… Bhaiyer kapale dilaam phota...""    

Your beloved sister,

Brishti…