Vidrohi - the anarchist

“Nayan, tell me one thing…” Biplab lightened up his cigarette while calling me.

“What’s up?” I turned back. Anurag was busy dialing some number with his cell phone. He was chiding his cell service provider persistently as he tried to get connected to the network. That was the time for the college to be over. Many bike riders were already there to pick up their loving passengers. A few hero-looking chaps seemed loitering in front of the girls’ college nearby the restaurant where we three were sitting.

“I wonder if these guys don’t have any other purpose in their life! I know that boy.” Biplab pointed towards a boy sitting on a motorbike with a bonnet on his head.

“Arre all are grownups now… you know one of our neighbour’s young daughter was eloped away by a lad… higher secondary student! And believe me, the girl is in class nine!” Anurag chuckled whilst putting his cell phone inside his pocket after quite a few unsuccessful trials. He is an unemployed engineer.

The entire milieu was filled up with colours and essence of juvenile bustles. That was the month when jackfruits ripen, the mighty sun blazes with all its guns out and the cool, calm rivers swell up to drench its verge. The scorched heat of summer just fell short to lessen the spirit of the daily-waged folks- plying handcarts and rickshaws. Many shops were closed other than the restaurants, some roadside pan shops and tea-stalls. In fact, for them that was the high time.

A few policemen were standing here and there on the crossroads. I saw one of them scolding one bike rider viciously, perhaps for not wearing the helmet. Only the previous day a bomb blast took place in the nearest town. For that reason police and army check posts had been spread out all over the region.

“What are you thinkin’ man?” Anurag asked me.

“Remembering college days?” Biplab threw away the last inch of the cigarette. After a few rolls it fell straight into the drain through the little opening of the cover of the footpath.

I did not answer. My wandering eyes were then set on a woman sitting on the road divider.  She was in very dirty clothing. Houseflies and mosquitoes were soaring over her body finding for a room through her rancid attire. She dragged one tattered, undersized shawl around her body in an effort to hide her womanly assets to no avail. Albeit she was devoid of most of the worldly pleasures, Deity gifted her with the great responsibility of motherhood! The crying little one, between her hips, borne out the verity that she was also fertile. There might be someone, good or bad, who had planted the seed of life in her womb. There might be someone whom she loved… or … did she sell her vanity in search of her livelihood? Did anybody kiss her? Nah, she is so grubby! But can somebody make love without kissing? Some discrete, meaningless thoughts came flying to my mind…

Her tangled, disheveled hair almost covered her face from prying eyes. I tried to move my eyes brazenly over the crests and troughs of her body on a whim. She must be beautiful if not so stunning, at least. The boy, sitting on her lap, must be bearing her look. His faint eyes and pale cheeks ridiculed the Almighty for his foregone conclusion while creating the human race. God had not filled his mother’s breasts with enough milk to feed him. Instead of spongy bed he received the jagged footpath to bid goodbye to the mighty sun and welcome the twinkling stars to play with, in the open. Every night he might be perplexed to differentiate between the stars and those glowing streetlights. He observed the people moving around him with a curious look. However, the busy passersby had little time to pay any attention to this little family.

 “Who is she? Where is she from? What is her name? What is her language? Has she chosen any name for her child? What would be the title? I saw many like her next to the bus stop. Do all of them belong to the same family?” Many questions came to my mind on the wing and hung about like a hawk, ready for its final assault on its prey!

By that time the college was over. For the moment I forgot the painted beauties around that woman with the child. Sorry, I didn’t know thy name! Did she know her name either?

“Hey poet! What are you thinking? Have your eyes caught any butterfly?” Biplab’s whispered in my ear. Suddenly I came back into senses.

“Beetle!” I answered him with a smile.

Biplab and Anurag both stared at me with a dubious look. Obviously, they could not understand my words.

“That beetle…” I pointed towards the woman.

Just a few moments… then both of them fell down laughing.

“Good God! What a selection man!” Biplab spanked very hard on my back, “your parents would be proud of you!”

“All these nuts! God knows where they come from. They are making the place dirty and posing danger for the people too. The local administration should take notice of this matter.” Anurag said like a very concerned citizen. His father is an eminent lawyer of the town.

“Dada… these people might be spies…” a waiter of the restaurant also put forward his remark like a wise fellow.

“These are all Bangladeshis… in disguise, so that nobody can spot them out.” A bald person, sitting just next to us, judiciously commented.

We could understand, one or two more people were also listening to our conversation with great interest. Some of them had already started discussion over the immigration problem!

“Do you know Nayan…” now Biplab started speaking like a philosopher. Before I could respond, he continued… “A person whose behaviour and actions does not fit with that of others and the surrounding environment is termed lunatic, mad.” I had never seen Biplab speaking in such a serious tone. But I could understand his intention the very next second.

“Now you see, your current response to the pleasant atmosphere says you are perfectly fit for that definition…” Both of them started laughing again.

I also joined them to chuck out of being termed mad. My cup of tea had already become cold, enough to be thrown off. But, nevertheless, I failed to divert my thinking to any other course at that time. The woman with the child became my central theme, point of observation on that moment. I saw some schoolboys were taunting and making fun of her. She was quite indifferent towards the wicked chimps. The immature boys must have had taken undue advantage of her unresponsiveness. I saw a few of them throwing something to them. Her baby was crying like anything.

Nobody came forward to stand by her. Some strange fear of being disgraced, the fear of helping a person made isolated by the society, the fear of being inapt to be a part of the community, prevented everybody, myself included, from helping that feeble by driving the boys away. The standing police personnel were seemed enjoying the events.

“Nayan have you applied for the …” I could make out what Biplab wanted to know.

Before I could answer Anurag replied, “Abbe, the posts are already fixed. I know, the minister’s quota, their P.A.’s quota, then their driver’s and body guard’s quota… it is better to open a pan-shop and…” But we knew he wouldn’t be able to digest his father’s wealth in this life. Anurag continued his words… ”...Sometimes I think about joining a underground organization and…” He stopped, watching a policeman coming into the restaurant.

However, Biplab and my situations were same. After completing our university degrees almost five years back, till then, we were without any formal placement. Biplab resigned from his Medical Representative’s job just in the previous year and I had been working in a private company with some weird targets and a great fear of losing the job on any day. Biplab’s parents died in an accident ten years back. His uncle, a businessman, had brought him up. I often see some sort of solitude in his eyes. He had never conveyed that to his friends but seldom shared with me.

Yet again Anurag was busy with the cellphone. That time he might be lucky enough to get the connection.

“Biplab, what about Bonee?” I asked. Biplab was sitting with his fingers crossed on the table. He remained quiet for sometime before asking me back –

“What do you want to know?”

“What does her husband do?”

“I don’t know…”, he paused “I never wished to know really!” I felt, my question must have annoyed him. But then he gave a strange smile and started speaking –

“It was not her fault… I was not in a position to run a family. Her father had been suffering from some acute illness over a long time and they wanted her to live a cosy and secure life… financially at least!”

“Have you ever met her after her marriage?”

“Yeah..! Once, in the market, with her husband. Their baby is one year old now.” Biplab gave a light smile.

“Dada, that fellow wants to talk to you..” A boy came inside the restaurant and told Biplab, pointing at a person sitting on a rickshaw outside on the road.

Biplab peeped outside and looked excited to see that person.

“I was waiting for him to come. He is my ex-colleague. I am leaving you now, meet you tomorrow.” Biplab stood up and said.

“OK, boss! We are also leaving” Anurag might have finished his conversation over the cellphone. He whispered, “…tomorrow I have my date.. so..”

The sun was already behind the huge concrete forest. Urban people seldom get the glimpse of sun setting in the far horizon. People were on the street, which was relatively cool at that time. I kick-started my motorcycle to roll towards home.

“When the weariness of the road is upon me, and the thirst of the sultry day; when the ghostly hours of the dusk throw their shadows across my life, then I cry not for your voice only, my friends, but for your touch…” .

Days were woven with diverse patches of some weary moments. I gave a sip in the cup of tea sitting all alone in the corner table of the restaurant. Just a few months back we were three, sitting in this restaurant. Anurag joined a government job in the last month. That night it was his ring ceremony.

That grubby lady with her small baby was not there any longer. Nor could I see her other hideous looking friends sitting on the walkway. One waiter of the restaurant told me that she was beaten very badly by some people one evening. A piece of stone, thrown by her, hit a schoolboy who was teasing her baby along with his friends. She must have died of her wounds. Next day the entire community disappeared together with the baby. Nobody ever knew where did they go. Spies! She remonstrated against the civic society and paid the price. Would her baby ever grow up to revolt against? To take revenge…!

“Vidrohi… traitors!” I spread my eyes through the open window. The sky was overcast. Last drizzles of summer made the dusty road clean like a mirror. I felt Biplab could come at any time. My mind just couldn’t accept the naked truth that Biplab wouldn’t come… any more! He was killed in a shoot out with the policeman, only one week after I met him last. Police said he was trapped while fixing a bomb near the cinema hall. His family couldn’t believe, so could I. The media linked his name to the activists’ list.

My lips touched the cup again. It tasted little saline. I felt my eyes were becoming moist. Few more drops of warm tears ran through my dry chin.