Thursday, November 30, 2023
FictionOne More Time! - Rimnichakravarty, West Bengal

One More Time! – Rimnichakravarty, West Bengal


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Truth at times could be stranger than fiction. As many a times what seems to be eternal may be found to be temporal At times the moments we live by seem to be long lasting. Or rather these moments continue and it seems they never end. Here I am reminded of the flowers that once bloomed from the buds, fluttered in the breeze, lit up a smile on the onlookers gaze and as the day ended the flower started to droop and the next morning you or I may find the petals scattered on the ground. Is in the phenomena very strange? Or it may seem to be a very common sight as:


“The flower that smiles to-day

To-morrow dies;

All that we wish to stay

Tempts and then flies.

What is this world’s delight?

Lightning that mocks the night,

Brief even as bright. “{Mutability: P.B.Shelley}

Indeed life is a bundle of opposites. Once overwhelmed with joy, hope, the other moment turns out to be in despair. Life is indeed unpredictable, wonders Rim. The season of spring is always welcome for her to wander all over .Sitting on her bed she travels in the world of a beautiful world where she listens to the solemnity of Rabindra sangeet, as blow the gentle wind. The birds chirp on the tree, at times the wind grows violent with the rustling leaves as though a rustic woman with her hair disheveled move on to lure her mate. She is sitting all alone. Loneliness is now her companion even on the arrival of spring loneliness has not deserted her. She loves her companion as this companion can never betray anyone feels Rim.

Rim closes her eyes to ponder about her new friend loneliness that never ever desert her for a moment. With closed eyes Rim look up at a scene where a little girl dressed in a white frock with frills run after her mother in the garden. Her mother is young, elegant, with long hair let loose but properly combed, doning a red bordered white sari and picking up chamomile flowers from the ground. She seemed to be a divine soul with red vermillion sparkling on her forehead and the red kumkum. The daughter ran and clutched on to the mother who was only 5 feet tall, yet the little girl found all the comforts by holding her waist tight. The mother seemed to be everything for the little girl, her best teacher who would lovingly teach her to write, read, spell, count, multiply, add, subtract, divide, draw, sing, dance, play hide and seek, handball. The lady is everything for the child. Wish her mother would be her teacher in school too.

Rim smile watching the scene with her closed eyes. What a wonderful relationship the mother and the daughter share she muses.

The cell phone buzz.Starled Rim looks up at the photograph of the lady who sometime back she watched her play with her daughter.

She picks up the cell. From the other end a voice shows concern for her ‘’How did it happen Rim?” Rim has got to speak a lot, but she observes a lump on her throat. Her voice chokes .She closes her eyes once again. Now she watch another scene where the mother who looked so gorgeous and divine clad in red bordered white sari and vermillion on her forehead lay cold  withered, crippled  on crematorium frond, while a lady adorned in white salwar kameez places the sandal wood to pray with folded palms: “ forgive me Ma.”

Time pass .They all says ‘time and tide awaits none. Yet Rim expects to meet MAA in dreams, yearns her to hold her tight .Oh no she will fly,hod her light she would then lit her face with her million dollar smile as will speak ‘manta ma amar’

Editorial Team of Indian Ruminations.


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