Scene one:
Ekti forsha chele boshey achey, tar mukh ta thik dekha jacche na. pechone dewal ar almarir oporer Nandita Das ar Bob Dylan er duto poster abcha bojha jachcey. Shomoy shondhya kina bojha jachey na, halka alo ashchey ekhono janala diye. Onekkhon holo dujonei chup. Ki jeno ekta taal kete geche. Kotha boltey boltey hothat kore bairey brishti portey arombho holo, probol bege…odbhut jorey, shamney thakle hoyto awaj e emnitei keu kaukey shuntey peto na. ei oshombhob bhashiye dewa srabon er prothom plabon e hoyto dujonei bheshei jeto. Chele ta erom kichu bhabje na, or mon porey achey, barir chaad er ghor tae, koto din eromi adho shondhya bela katiye chilo nirjoney, pub diker kon er barir dikey takiye, kinba, chaad er railing er bairey hath baar kore, brishtir chaat dhorar cheshtae, kotobar nijei bhiegeche. Bari tey erom katano tae jeno kono koshto chilona, janto ek haak parley, ma gorom gorom cha niye hajir hobe, tarpor, shondhya dholtey dholtey cha er sathey ma and chele tey miley jombey darun adda. Kintu aj jeno brishti ta chokey angul diye dekhiye dichchey, shoto haak parleo ma cha er cup haathey ashbena, shotobar bairey haath baraleo brishtir jol er sathey, kon er barita konobhabei dekha jabena…shotobar cheshtha korleo kichutei chokh bondho korlei sada oshombhob bhabey clinically porishkar ghorta, shei jonjal bhora chaad er ghor hoye jabena… oshombhob eka. Oshombhob eka.
Scene two:
Onnojon er mukh e kotha nei. Karon ektai. She reads every unsaid word on his face. And it pains her that she cannot reach out and say, its alright…its fine.eto bhabish na. ar matro koekta din to. Dekhtey dekhtey bochor ta shesh hoye jabe. It pains her to accept that she is helpless here. Kono bhabey Jodi or potent byatha tar kono relief ditey parto…atleast kichu ekta Jodi appropriate boltey parto. Goto 7 bochor er modhye to konodin aj obdi sensible kichu boltey pareni, aj Jodi boltey parto…if only. Imagination was so strong and fanciful to her, that she could almost close her eyes and feel the rains splash against her moist skin, leaving running trails down her arms, and she could almost hear his silent breath on her neck when they stood at the window, facing the greenery and buildings in the distance even more hazy with rain… she could almost sense his melancholy and her heart tore to reach out to him, wrap him in her arms and soothe him with gibberish baby-talk, something incommunicable to us, but meaning the world to them… she could almost feel his hard skin under her hands and she could almost see him, looking up to her like a lost kid, hair ruffled, wanting to be patted on the head, and given a kiss… when she opened her eyes, he was still staring outside the window. A screen of silence separated them, or maybe it was the only thing that connected them along with the modem.
Scene three:
Dari ta rakheni thank god, but jhulpi ta dekhe boss…kono purono din er black and white almost hero hotey hotey villain er role pawa kono obhinetar moton lagje. Bhodro keu holey bolteo “bah tomae to besh kobi kobi lagje”. Guitar kadhey cycle chalano teo aantalmi dekhatey na parley r ki presidency tey porashuno kora. Emon ekta bhab korey cycle chalano je money hoy, every single fibre of his body seems to say to his unquestioning audience – ei, rokkey, tumi ki jano je ami bajatey pari, huhu…tomra ki paro? blood relation na thakleo jimi Hendrix amar shomporkey pisho hon, ar john amar dada. John maney john denver noy, oshob khuki der faltu idol worship, ei john hochhyen john lennon. Beatles er nam shononi? Aha, poka makor er kotha k bolchey, ki shob antabrir dol, beatles ekta band, boyish ta ki gachey chorey bereche? Unissho shottorey kothae chiley? Mog daaley? Na college ey? Kader niye shonshar korchi, bhoga tuley ne!
Tearing her eyes off the screen, she picks up his call. Oshomoye bibroto koratey guitarist ekkebarey genius. Bol.ki byapar, kodin dhorey phone tulchilina, eto bar message korlam, ekta replyo dilina, presentation kemon gelo? Tokey to pawai day. Eto busy mohila je ki korey amar priyo bondhu hotey parlo bhogobani janey shala. Ektu byasto chilam, bol ki hoyche? Bhalo achish to? Ami bhalo achi. Presentation went well. Chap achey ei semester e janish to, final sem e onek kaj thakey, dissertation er kaj kortey kortey pagol hoye jachchi. Hya hya, bujhechi. Shob byastotai to amar phone ele tor bere jae. Ki korchili? Emni kichuna, keno bol to? Na, haathey amar jonno shamannyo shomoy achey? Hya bol.. bolbona, ekta gaan shonatey chai, toke shonannor jonnoi kal theke pagol hoye gechi.. eto baar tai phone korchilam…Jamaican farewell’r ekta bangle version achey, janish? (he was still gazing out in the distance, lost in thought… what is he thinking, I wish I could know…I wish he would let me in) hya shunechi. Kalu’r golaye shunechilam… oh, besh besh, ami sheta kal shuney odbhut bhabey emotional hoye gechilam…praye kedei felechilam janish…tui shuntey pachchish to?(chords a, d, e…’r tung tang awaj elo, besh taaleyi) shona, ami shunci …
Aha pother prantey oi shudur gaye,jetha shomoy thomke thamey boter chaaye,
aha shondhya dwip joley tarar tip, ar fuler gondhye mor mon mataye,
aha kon shudhur shei shopnopur, mor mon j gaye ghor e ferar shur,
mor poth cheye ajo shei meye, bujhe shopnojal boney gaan geye...
She realized her eyes were swimming. It was disastrous. She hoped he would remain looking away…she didn’t want him to know. She was not weak. It was the last thing she was. She couldn’t let him feel. She wouldn’t… kon shudur shei shopno pur, mor mon je gaye ghorey ferar shur…mor poth cheye, ajo shei meye, bujhi shopnojal boney gaan geye… as if she was waiting for him, as if she was really waiting for him to come back, waiting for him to say something… bullshit! ... but she was. She would forget everything, give up everything, everything. Just one word… One simple word, or even a look…please look at me, it’s the right moment…twilight streamed through his glasses and filled the room… she could almost inhale the fresh fragrance of the earth that came in with the first monsoon showers… could he be thinking of her…
and at that very instant…He turned.
kirey Bonya
Bonya…
Scene four:
And she disconnected the phone. Hot tears splashed down her eyes as her hands fumbled at the modem wire to yank it out of the laptop. She ran out of the room. Damn the retro hero, his timing for playing such a song was as worse as his pronunciation of the word “angel”!!! damn him. All his fault. As brilliantly as he sang, she would deal with him later. As fast as her legs would take her… across the corridor, across the lawn, up the stairs, four flights, till she reached the terrace, and sank down on the upper parapet, struggling against the wind to keep seated back. She loved to risk everything. Her life seemed very petty at that moment. She had willingly let him go, not stopping to even make the slightest urge to stop him or ask for a fragment of his heart. He had never understood, and it was fallacy to hope that he would. A few shared sentiments, old instrumental music, an old tin of Havana mini cigars, an old breezer bottle painted with enamel paint was all that was left tangible between them… the rest was to be with her forever. He had no right over it. If he never asked her to love him, how could he ask her to stop loving him and forget him and move on with life? Everything was not a hindi film, it was not a scripted play to know the beginning and the end. It was not a game. If only she had moved out when she had the chance… if only… she could have caught him by his collar and shook him and told him to shut up and listen to her for once. She wished she could stop feeling so much. It was a pain. Every story doesn’t have an abrupt ending. But what if there was an abrupt ending to this, and she wondered… And somewhere in the distance, soft wails of Yumeshi’s theme from an
old movie sadly faded away and she closed her eyes till…
there was no more and left.
Buntai
New Delhi
8th March 11
forshar nandita
forshar dylan
