A splash of rain carried by the southern breeze made me wet on a dreary day of summer. I was trying to concentrate on my study sitting on my small chair adjacent to a gigantic table but the attention shifted to the outside world through the side window. The opened book and I already got drenched until I realized that it was going to be the first stormy afternoon of this summer. After closing the window, I approached towards the balcony; another splash of rain slapped my face. Dust with dried litter started to float with the strong gust of wind; a piece of paper started to whirl and went up; hurried people on the street got busy to take shelter expecting an approaching storm. The bustling sound of tree leaves while battling against the furious winds made me elated from inside. I smelled my childhood in the coming wind and closed my eyes to sniff the wet soil of my village during ‘Kalboishakhi’ (a summer storm familiar in eastern India). I am far away from my village to pursue my higher study in engineering in one of the premier institute of India. Sometimes I feel confined and get messed up with my mundane life which is like a frog confined in a well and unacquainted with world beyond it. A small cabin in the department where throughout the whole day I struggle to expand my intellect, a small hostel room to forget all the unsolved problems beyond my intellectual competence and some good friends to search about the reasons and curse those creative people behind our suffering, is my small world. I suffocate in the crowded race of my life in search of a successful career that will secure my future.
Is that all I need to become happy in life?
I don’t know. May be I am not brave enough to go against my parent’s decision and take a stand to choose my own happiness. May be I am not that much efficient to choose the right profession which will reflect the
creative side of me and will not impede my happiness at the same time. May be I am also among those who are lost in the race of life and try to adapt with the consequences what life offers to them to exist.
Was it destined for me?
Sometimes I try to find out the answer but always I end up with the ambiguous outcome. Whatever it may be, I will write the end of the story of my own life. I will be tired after the long race; the race that started from my childhood and still trying to adapt. I will take an early retirement from my work to go back to my small beautiful village; a place far away from this crowd; a place where my emotions grew, as a child I saw a meandering river, green field, old banyan tree, my school, ancient temple. Once I had a dream; a dream to write about the people, their feelings, their battle for existence and of course about my village and those people who are occupying a great deal of space inside my heart. Life is too short to live your dream but I never complained about my life. The hope that someday I will start the journey to follow my dream is my strength to live another day.
The wind stopped but darkness was still there. The roar of thunder was breaking the abnormal silence of the atmosphere after a little succession. Suddenly a heavy rain started without any wind to interrupt; I lift up my face to the sky; each drop of rain on my face was carrying a boundless joy inside my heart; after so long I was in ecstasy while standing in the rain. It reminded me those countless days of my childhood, I would get soaked in the rain. It was raining incessantly inside my heart; each and every corner of my inside was getting wet. I will be there to spend last few years of my life to embrace my happiness.
—- Narayan Roy