Some trips have plans, some have no plans in particular and still another set have plans which were not fulfilled. When I planned for the trip to Kolkata for this year’s Kalipujo, I knew I will be as happy as I can be. Then the plans changed, thought the dates didn’t; some new plans were added and tried to get the max out of this 10 days.
Finding someone whom I knew two decades back and meeting her again, and then get invited for a Bhai Phota – marks the best part of the trip. Somadi was one year senior to us, and now with three kids yet still with same spontaneity – it was amazing.
A gathering that tried to relive the era of 1988-90, another great fun. There was unending stories of fun and reactions and names. Two years senior and two years junior batch, each that we remember and some who don’t from Bhawanipur Educational Society College. A batch whom the professors still remember, for their academics, and pranks, and energy. Even the spouses were amazed at the amount of people and events we still remember; glorious days never fade – do they?
Frantic activities, lazy afternoons, someone offering endless supply of tea, no food to cook, cooking in a kitchen that has become alien to you, playing with two kids while the third is trying to climb on the shoulder of IC kaku and the fourth truing to find how strong kaku’s abdomen muscles are – yet, the eyes wanting to catch a glimpse not possible.
“baba, tomar kotogulo bondhu!” (Dad, you have so many friends!)
“baba, tomra koto chechamechi korchho! (Dad, how much are you people shouting!)
– that was Bob, Sudeep’e son, who were dumbfounded by the cacophony his dad and da’s friend’s were making; and that included the head of Eveready’s BPL Battery arm, one area manager of Nalco Chemicals, one Printing press owner, one senior manager of Cognizant, and a senior manager of NIIT and a DGM of a ITES company. Still not too old to shout and laugh and jump around I guess.
Walking on the dark streets of the locale where once every blade of grass was a friend, every corner of street were significant, and expectations of meeting people were everywhere – that was enough to give one goose bumps. Somehow they have become alien. Suddenly Ammi said, “you know the phuchkawala that used to stand here has become so old and baldy!” and he was standing in front, trying to remember the face that was so familiar. Passed a smile and went ahead. While coming back, again the same bewilderment, and finally words came out,
“dimag garbaray gaya raha! Pechane nahi aat hey, per pechana to lag raha hey!”
Finally told him, “Do you remember the group that used to practice karate here? And used to come to you for phuchka and churmur? A tall fellow and a curly haired speckled one?”
“Arre haan! Abhi chasma bhi nahi rehal aur baal bhi ur gail!”
“Baal to aapki bhi ur gail, aur mera chasma aapke pass chala gaya”
And we had phuchka and churmur.
Emotions swinging faster than a overjoyed dog’s wagging tail, locking up dreams in Fort Knox and preparing to put the nose back on the grinding stone. Another journey coming up and then another before I can hope to take a breather. Only if I really had been the phoenix or even clouds and soared high and have a look and a fleeting touch. Someone deep only consoles, if I believe then it will happen, so I believe and so I walk. Back on my chosen path, preparing to break free and run wild into the forest as soon as I can.