shortstories Archives - KolkataFusion https://kolkatafusion.com/tag/shortstories/ Bangalir Adda Zone Wed, 14 Apr 2021 11:47:00 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.3.5 https://kolkatafusion.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/favicon.ico shortstories Archives - KolkataFusion https://kolkatafusion.com/tag/shortstories/ 32 32 176560891 The Future of Our Kids – A short story https://kolkatafusion.com/the-future-of-our-kids/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=the-future-of-our-kids https://kolkatafusion.com/the-future-of-our-kids/#comments Thu, 14 Nov 2019 09:20:49 +0000 https://kolkatafusion.wordpress.com/?p=654 I was taking a walk by the river when I saw this little girl sitting alone all by herself. She had a small and fragile body. I think she must have been somewhere approximately seven years old. She was still a kid; adolescence was yet to touch her body. I felt curious about what might have brought her here? Though deep within me I feared …

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I was taking a walk by the river when I saw this little girl sitting alone all by herself. She had a small and fragile body. I think she must have been somewhere approximately seven years old. She was still a kid; adolescence was yet to touch her body. I felt curious about what might have brought her here? Though deep within me I feared the most dreadful, I walked up to her and touched her shoulder. She looked up with clear, bright eyes. It was an exact mirror of her, an accurate reflector of her pains.

Small girl by a river bank
A small girl by the river

She chirped, “What are these birds? They are so colourful, their voices are so melodious. And these, flowers? What are these? I have not seen anything like this for ages!”

She looked so pretty with her wide eyes jumping with each word that she spoke.

 “Is this heaven?” she continued, “Ammi used to say everything in heaven is pristine, is colorful. During those evenings, when we went to bed empty stomach, my Ammi used to say: ‘If you can tolerate pain with a smile, one day you will be bestowed with all the joys under this sun. My child! Always remember to smile in whatever situation you are. God is looking at us. He blesses good kids with loads of love and he takes them to himself after death.’

My Ammi always smelled of fresh mud, burnt woods and cow dung. I loved that smell. It is long since I had that smell.”

I sat close to her, “Were you in a hospital?” Few seconds passed by but came no reply. My mind started racing and her few seconds of silence killed me. But, she sat stoically looking at her feet. It was too overburdening on me and so I had to poke her thoughts, “have you lost your mom to any ailment?”

She jolted back to reality! “Ammi! Oh no! She is alive. Yes, she suffers a lot, but she is a strong and beautiful lady.”

Suddenly she looked up at me and said, “Can I call you didi? You look like the lady in my neighbourhood”

And even before I could acknowledge, she continued,

“Didi! Just a few minutes back I was feeling an intolerable pain in my body. I was sleeping on a bed of needles in a dark room. But now I don’t feel anything.”

She paused as if trying to recall the day which might have been just yesterday, and continued spurting out her unspoken thoughts

Child in a dark room

“Like any other day, I was in the fields with my goats. The goats were grazing happily, but I was feeling hungry, very hungry. So, when that uncle with a beard came up to me and said that there was food in the temple, I went with him. Ammi had always forbidden me from going with strangers. But, I was famished and he was taking me to a mandir. A mandir is a place of worship, and there they give food to the beggars. So, I went. But, then, he took me somewhere deep inside the temple to a part where no was visible. It was so dark and it stank. I was there for so many days. I cannot count the number of days as I had never seen daylight there.  Didi, it hurt. I did not know what was happening to me…I think there were other men also as I could hear many voices. They were laughing, eating and drinking something stale. They were constantly hurting me. This pain was not like hunger pangs. It was something which I had never felt before. I felt like peeing but I could not. It was so painful. I could smell blood. I think it was my blood. There was not a single part of my body which did not hurt. They had even bitten me harder than the cat in our house.”

She was in a trance and she might have continued if we were not interrupted by Nandi.

A new bright day with pigeons flying
Heaven is here

On Nandi’s instruction, I took her to that part of the place where Neelkanth mostly sat with his lady.

The ever pristine voice of Parvati welcomed us, but the radiance was missing today. In the last few years, I have seen this couple grow old, but their presence always brought solace to me. 

But, today was another day. Today, Neelkanth’s throat had lost the blue colour and he was sitting with his eyes closed, meditating. Today the meditating Neelkanth didn’t have the smile on his lips; instead, there were tears in his eyes.

That was a moment of realization for me… the moment when I could feel hope was dying out. I apprehended that they too have given up hope. Just like the way when a man’s created robot goes out his hand, he realizes his mistake; they had also started realizing that their creation was no more in their control and the only way to normalize things was: ANNIHILATION!

Disclaimer:

It’s not about any religion or any belief… it’s about a heinous crime like rape, which has no mercy yet it’s such a common crime all over the world. Why is it like this? Why? And, more so ever in a place of worship….?!!? Where is the world heading towards – with no fear of men, no fear of God, and no fear of karma!

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My Friend Became A Mother (Part 1) – A New Journey https://kolkatafusion.com/my-friend-became-a-mother-postpartum-depression-story-of-mother/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=my-friend-became-a-mother-postpartum-depression-story-of-mother https://kolkatafusion.com/my-friend-became-a-mother-postpartum-depression-story-of-mother/#comments Wed, 26 Jun 2019 05:40:18 +0000 https://kolkatafusion.wordpress.com/?p=767 From the moment I entered the house, I could sense it. Mutilated toys were scattered all over the floor and a stripped off mattress laid naked at one end of the room with the bed-sheet dangling somewhere on the couch. There were scattered cushions near the gaping main door (giving anyone a free access to the house). The TV was playing some silly “parivaar” drama. …

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From the moment I entered the house, I could sense it.

Mutilated toys were scattered all over the floor and a stripped off mattress laid naked at one end of the room with the bed-sheet dangling somewhere on the couch. There were scattered cushions near the gaping main door (giving anyone a free access to the house). The TV was playing some silly “parivaar” drama. The washing machine rumbled from the balcony and the micro oven in the kitchen kept on beeping, trying to draw the attention of its master on completion of its job. To me it seemed nothing lesser than the remnants of a battle field!

I could hardly move without stepping on some squeaking toy.

But, where were the owners of the house? Have I reached the correct address?” I wondered and undoubtedly if it wasn’t at broad daylight, I would have rushed out of this obscure house to make a call to 100. However, concern for my beloved friend overpowered the inner fear and I managed to walk towards the bedroom.

Postpartum depression
Postpartum Depression can be scary

The room was dark with all the blinders down and a blended fragrance of milk and baby cream lingered in the air. Once my vision acclimatized to the darkness, I realized that the condition of this room was comparatively better. A furniture which once used to be the dressing table was stacked with baby food cans, diapers and bottles. Though nothing was scattered on the floor, the bed had way too many pillows than an average King sized bed could hold. Slowly as my gaze travelled towards the other end of the bed, I could see my friend sitting.  The sight was not even remotely close to the mushy mom and child moments portrayed in baby product ads. In a flash, I was introduced to a whole new perspective on motherhood!

My childhood friend sat upright.  The little baby seemed fast asleep on her lap with the face buried in the mother’s bosom.  The mother’s hair was disheveled. She was gazing at the closed window and hadn’t realized my sudden presence. I slowly managed to tiptoe towards the vague human structure outline in the darkness and tapped Shreya gently on her shoulder. As she turned towards me, her eyes gave me a shock! I could see nothing else than stress in her eyes. Though her frail lips succeeded in giving a smile, I couldn’t feel the utopian joy of motherhood on her facial lines. Beads of tear were running down her eyes as she sat in dissolution. I could sense her sobbing but entirely in silence. She managed to nod at me and gestured me to sit down in front of her. I barely manage to signal to her that it’s okay and murmured “I will be seated in the drawing room, watching TV, may be.” Shreya smiled once again and nodded affirmatively.

Mother holding a baby

Hustling out of the room, I rushed to the balcony for some fresh air. Wasn’t motherhood supposed to be the best experience? At least, that is what we had always heard. The movies and the people around us had always given a very glossy picture of motherhood.

Listening to the stories, I had always thought a baby is an angel. Her presence can only be a matter of joy and I cringed from the thought of stress that a baby could probably bring along.  For once I also thought, “Shreya must be incapable as a mother and therefore the scenario is like this.”

A few more negative thoughts might have crossed my mind if I had not heard the warm welcome from a male voice. Turning around I saw Nikhil standing with his bright smile and a twinkle in the eyes.

I rushed towards him, gave him a tight hug and without wasting any time jumped straight to the point. “What is wrong with you guys?

What have you done to my friend?

Is she going through any mental trauma?

Is your baby, Bristi? Bristi, is the name I guess, not well?

Are you guys going through a bad patch in your relationship?”

“Sit down.” Nikhil tried to calm me.

Shoving off the bed sheet to a corner he made some space for me to sit and continued, “Let’s have a cup of coffee in next 30 minutes. It is 5:30pm. Shreya will join us by 6:00pm max and then you will get the answers to all your questions. In the meanwhile, can you help me with a glass of water? ”

On any other day, his nonchalance would have freaked me out but slowly I was getting grooved to the house’s ambience. In spite of all the indiscipline there was something very pacifying in the air.

Giving him the water, I sat beside him. Slowly he finished the entire glass, looked at the watch and muttered, “I will take 5 minutes in the washroom. Do me another favour; turn off the micro oven in the kitchen and start folding the bed sheet please.”

I acted as advised. He took a little more time than 5 minutes but it wouldn’t have been enough for any man to freshen up after a long day in office. On rushing out of the washroom, without wasting any time, he joined me and we both started placing the things in order. There was a big box in the store room, already half filled with toys, where he stacked the mess of the room. It hardly took us some 15 minutes to make the room livable. And just as we were about to sit down and look at our own efforts, his alarm made him spring up.

Tuning the TV channel to 9XM, he turned the volume high.

“What now?” I probed.

In a mysterious voice, he said, “Wait! I will be back in 5 minutes again” and vanished into their bedroom closing the door on my face.

Each moment seemed like an hour. The visuals of the mother & daughter duo started drifting in front of my eyes, engulfing me into dreadful thoughts.

It was 6:20pm pm and just as I was about to get up, when I saw the two most beautiful ladies … something has happened in this last one hour, transforming the stoned duo into the most vibrant one! Shreya still looked weak; nonetheless, in the shorts and sleeveless tees she looked the same school girl. The baby in her arms stretched for me as if she knew me for ages. Behind them stood the man of their life. It was the picture perfect moment.

Continued in Part 2

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