It was a huge property, walled and surrounded by a big garden. The bungalow in the centre could be seen from the other side of the fifteen feet high iron gate.
Mr. Alok Kumar Ray tried to visualise his property while sitting on the lower berth of a train several miles away, in a different country. The place where his property stills stands has two things to talk of today - an IIT and a railway platform, but Mr. Ray's fondness for the place was beyond everything else.
He didn't realise when a big drop of tear, unrestrained by his thinned and grey eyelashes fell on the wrinkles of his hand.
On the eve of his eightieth birthday, he just gave away his bungalow.

Mr. Ray wiped the teardrop off his right hand and held it closer to his face. The hand had performed some very difficult tasks in the last few weeks.

He met her when he was twenty five and still doesn't seem to know if it was her golden perms, her pearly white teeth, the nape of her neck, her slender waist, deep blue eyes or her kindness that he first fell in love with. All he knew was that, they were meant to be together from that day forth to all the days that was there till eternity.

She looked beautiful on her wedding day, as he recalled pecking her lips after the minister said "You may now kiss the bride".

As they both walked out of the church, hand in hand, he was completely unaware as to how, Edwina, his German bride would one day learn to speak bits of bengali, would make the perfect rasogollas and tomato chutney that he was so fond of. He didn't know how much she would sacrifice for him while they were both at Germany for buying that property in Kharagpur, a place that meant nothing to her but everything to him and his parents.
Edwina and Alok were married for thirty eight years after which they separated. They never had a child and Alok shifted base to Thailand post his retirement from Germany. Living out of their respective pensions, they always remained in touch and never fell out of love. The distance made their hearts grow fonder and they met twice a year, every year. Their decision to get separated never made any sense to them.

Alok's tears were no longer coming out as drops, they now formed a steady stream on his face. As he looked at his right hand one last time before taking it to the searing pain on his left chest, Edwina's wedding ring glistened around his little finger. He felt his left side go numb, there was darkness everywhere.

He was returning home after burying two of his most precious possessions on earth, Edwina - to heart attack and the Bungalow - to charity.


    Nice.!! :)


    Darun hoyechhe....aaro lekh 😊


    Thanks guys!
    Managed to write something after a very very very long time...

    On August 18, 2016 at 4:58 PM Anonymous said...

    Anything that finds its eventuality in death is poignant enough to warrant a silent moment of pondering. Your story left me pondering as well as recalled that heaviness which I feel every time I think of my own death. How I wish we had some insight in the nature of death so that our lives become more reasonable.


    May be death is a promotion we have to earn for learning greater truths.


    Very very very very very well said. I have long pondered the elevated nature of death. But the problem with that approach is it makes death very tempting especially when life bogs one down.


    Tempting indeed...almost like longing for a long lost friend...


    Well written...Bhalo Laglo


    Thank you Randeep da.. :)