By Romit Chowdhury
“I remember all my life, raining down as cold as ice,
Shadow of a man, face through a window, crying in the night,
The night goes into morning’s just another day,
Happy people pass my way,
Looking in their eyes, I see a memory,
I never realized how happy you made me…”
Ronojoy Lahiri did not wait for the song to end before he switched off the radio in his car. He garaged his new Indigo, took the stairs up to his apartment on the sixth floor, and let himself into the darkness. This had been the 32-year-old man’s fate, every single day, for the past seven years. Seven years since he had left his parents’ house, to live in his own.
“You have become selfish, Joy”, said Mr. Ritobroto Lahiri. “It pains me to see that my only son chooses to ignore his parents’ feelings and move out, when there is no real need to.”
“Selfish!” exclaimed Ronojoy. “You cannot tell me that. I’m tired of you and Ma fighting wars, every other day, over petty trivialities. I’ve had enough of it since my childhood. Now I want to live alone. And it’s not as if I’m abandoning you. I’ll drop in every weekend and of-course, you can call me whenever you want to.”
Ronojoy switched on the lights in his drawing room and closed the door behind him. He opened the shutters to his verandah and let the cool autumn breeze in. As if tickled by her playful lover, the wind-chime began a tinkling laughter. He stood and gazed awhile at the diamond-studded sky. “It’s a beautiful night”, thought Ronojoy and looked at his watch. Quarter to eleven. He moved into his bedroom, took off his watch and placed it, along with his purse, in the drawer. As he pushed the drawer in, he caught his reflection in the mirror.
“Now it’s your turn, Joy”, informed Ronjana. “How does the 20-year-old Ronojoy Lahiri see himself twelve years from now?”
“Ya, how does Mr. Realist Lahiri see his own future?” questioned Raunak, gleefully. “This should be interesting”
“I’ll probably be spending my time like it’s going out of style”, prevaricated Mr. Realist, eager to play on. “But I’ll remember that no matter how much time we buy, we can never spend it all.”
“Hello, we didn’t speak crap”, put in Ritika. “Be serious and tell us really where you see yourself”.
“Okay, let’s see now, twelve years would make me 32”, said Ronojoy and paused to think. “In 12 years time guess, I’d like to see myself respectably employed, with a house and car of my own and sensibly in love with a woman who loves me second only to herself.”
Having changed and freshened himself, Ronojoy went into the kitchen to see what had been cooked for dinner. The maid had prepared his favourite ‘eelish shorshe’. But strangely, for the third time in the week, he had no appetite for his dinner. He wondered at this and finally, ascribed it to the excessive pressure at work. Shaking his head in consternation, he proceeded to put away the food in the refrigerator.
“Ronojoy, I have something to tell you”, said Rohini. “I have been promoted to the past of Regional Head, plus, a 15 grand raise.”
“That is awesome! I’m really happy for you. You’ll still be at the Camac Street branch, right?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I’ve been transferred to the office at California. If I accept, I’ll have to leave day after tomorrow.”
“Wait a minute. California! Day after tomorrow! And what do you mean ‘if’? You’ve wanted this promotion for almost a year now”.
“What I mean is that I’ll stay back if you tell me to”.
“But how can I do that, Rohini? I have nothing to hold you back with. I know what you want me to say, but I can’t”.
“Why can’t you Ronojoy? We’ve been together for more than 4 years now. You’re 29, I’m 28. Between the two of us we earn enough to support two families. Then why cant you? Tell me.”
“It’s because I’m not ready for marriage yet. Don’t get me wrong here. You mean the world to me. But I don’t feel the need for marriage yet.”
“You’ve been saying that for the past one year. I can’t wait for you forever. Don’t call me Ronojoy. I’ll call you.” She disconnected the telephone.
Ronojoy’s mobile started to buzz. “Thank God for the reminder”, he thought. He had completely forgotten about the meeting he was to attend at exactly 9am, the next day. “It’s past twelve already. Better get some sleep.” He switched off the lights, went to his bedroom, undressed, and slipped into bed.
Even as the months became days, the minutes marched on. Ronojoy tossed and turned in his bed, but sleep eluded him. Instead he found himself troubled by an internal turmoil, a weariness which he could not resolve. He decided to go to the verandah and smoke.
Looking at the sky from his open verandah, Ronojoy noticed that dark clouds had eclipsed the stars. It was as if, the diamonds had been turned to dull stones. The change disquieted him. He lighted a cigarette and began to smoke. Somehow however, it only made him worse. “Damn! Even a fag doesn’t feel right today”. He tossed it away.
Ronojoy observed the cigarette as it feathered its way down to the pavement below… his eyes fixed on the steady glow… He blinked when the glow blinded… The sight brought an unusual tranquility to him, a calm which he had not felt in years. He longed for this calm to stay with him forever. He climbed onto the railing. And walked into the dead night.
