Avik's Story

Every realization has a price, and sometimes it is more than one can bear. The apartment, I am still living in, was never so untidy and messy. Everywhere, there are either packed boxes or scattered things to be boxed. Somewhere, like in balcony, the piles of packets of groceries have blocked the passage way. Literally, this place is a reminiscence of a mid-sized go-down in dusty Sadar Bazar. And, like the inexperienced but enthusiastic heir of old ‘lala’, my wife runs amok, yells at everyone at her sight, and at the end, just sits on the sofa, opens her tab, and plays Candy Crush with a ‘don’t-dare-to-disturb-me’ face. I understand the ocean of pressure she is into and the momentary confusions she is facing, but I don’t understand my role here. Should I let her go? Just like that? She is leaving for Mauritius for long three years and she is taking Vedantika with her. For the last five years she, and for the last seven months ‘she’, have become a good part of mine, if not best. Sp

It is being said and commonly believed that ‘anything’ matures with time. Be that a country, a society or an individual. But, when I look back to that ‘anything’, I find the notion is absolutely ridiculous and illusive, as I haven’t met a single entity in my whole life, which ‘matures’ with time, rather it destructs itself slowly. Like a nation, which rises as of Phoenix from century old oppression possessing high morale and lofty ideology, slowly but steadily advances towards the oblivious dereliction. Like a society, whose birth was marked with equity and justice, ends up in a bloodied Mexican Standoff. And, like a person, who begins life with a promising freedom, slowly becomes a slave of self. Yes, I am pained. The education, I got in my childhood, seems to be in contrary to what I am supposed to do now. The rise of Centre-right or the befallen Centre-left in India, does not pain me much, as I am a firm believer of change. The gradual radicalization of public institutions is

Instantly, I felt bad. The screen of the phone was still lit and it was on my palm, my earlobe was still warm. People were everywhere, pushing me to board crowded bus or just as usual. And, I was perplexed. What I have done? Just now, I scolded and yelled someone over phone, which in general I never did, as I never liked to be. I raised my voice to my own irritation and sort of un-soothing satisfaction. I used some rude words, which I hated to use against any. And most of all, this guy worked with my NGO and all he was asking to pay him for his service, which I was disagreed for. Am I a bad person? Setting an NGO is tough; tougher is collection of funds but to get the job done in time is the toughest one. With passing of time, I realized that if the lofty ideology was the foundation stone of a charitable organization, business acumen and shrewdness were everything to grow that nascent. Ideology takes a corner, behind the shadow of day-to-day mudslinging and hard realty. A