The pedestrian knows this city well, this is where he first saw the sun and the moon from his mothers lap. To him this a city which bred personalities like Tagore and Subhas Chandra Bose, this is a place where courage and dignity are symmetrically welded together. This city has always fought the wrong doers ruthlessly, praised and honored those who worked for the betterment of humanity. Hriday Kumar Pal the pedestrian’s grand father, whom the pedestrian held as a perfect mascot of the city, fought the British unyieldingly on one hand, and on the other he never raised his voice ever talking to his father. He was a man of principle and discipline.
This sudden remembrance of his grandfather took the pedestrian to his childhood days, when he used to accompany his grandfather everywhere, he was his walking stick, on which his grandfather used to support his back, by a palm on the pedestrian’s shoulders. He regaled him with stories of the brave hearts who fought alongside him against the British raj. In the dead of the night, how they carried out high-risk missions, ignoring the then governments angry eyes and even viler punishments. The thought of the heroic bloodline the pedestrian inherited, made the pedestrian’s chest puff with pride. His chain of thoughts broke, as he sensed someones presence near him, his old eyes caught the sight of an young woman standing beside him, looking at the signal lights impatiently, as he did a few seconds ago, which is still switched to the green. An intense essence of deodorant hit him hard, it blinded his senses and helplessly felt attracted by the mystifying fragrance, he attempted to collect his scattered self back, after regaining his composure again, the pedestrian’s mind filled up with disdain for today’s youth.
“Indiscipline and lack of modesty runs through their veins ” his mind screamed.
The girl is clad in a light gray t-shirt, a small bag decorated with a fancy pattern, made from thin strips of a leather like substance, slung down from her left shoulder, her open slightly reddish silken hair draped down carelessly on her shoulders. The pedestrian sensed an unease building inside him, by the sudden invasion of the beauty that his mind tried to sully.
The day when the pedestrian saw his wife Godhuli for the first time, 30 years ago projected again before his eyes, dressed in a light yellow cotton sari, with red embroidery, she accompanied her mother holding a tray full of sweets and snacks, following her mothers lead, as her mother introduced her daughter.
“She looked like one of those apsars, and her beauty was organic, not synthetic and vulgar” his mind snarled.
The pedestrian’s mother and father has always praised his wife’s cultured approach, which always made him feel proud as her husband, and an equally proud father, when his only son inherited their families culture and decency alright, he has so far not given into his wife’s demand to isolate their family from her in-laws ones.
“These are the type of girls, who tries to take their husbands away from his parents and then make them puppets who dances on her tunes, for the rest of his life” the pedestrian’s mind hurled another remark at the girl, standing beside him.
“Every girl has to adjust in her in-laws home, it takes time to adopt to another families culture, that does not mean that, parents are to be abandoned in their old-age. Even my mom did, in a family where she shared the home with five other brothers, of my dad’s. Here she is the only daughter in-law and even then she wants to start a separate family.” the pedestrian’s mind reflected.
He checked the signal again, which is still lighted green, this time his eyes almost jumped out of their sockets, his heart raced faster and his mind screamed blasphemy, his eyes caught the sight of the girl’s pants, which ended way above her knees. Disgust blotted his mind, his composure shattered into a million pieces.
“Doesn’t she feel shame or something, these are the taints of the west, the youths of today, are picking up. How can her parents allow this, don’t they care about their own dignity, this is the corrosion of our culture etc, etc”.
His mind now nodded in agreement, to a politician’s speech, he disregarded a few weeks back, when the politician tried to justify moral policing, done by one of his parties compatriot’s group. Or a few months back, when another politician criticized this generation of girls for dressing so provocatively. The pedestrian’s mind bathed in hate and anger constantly slammed the girl, he threw a dirty look at the girl, that clearly expressed the state of his mind, but the girl ignored the judgmental look with grace and stepped forward to cross the road, the signal lighted up red, as the cars stopped and waited forming a queue. The pedestrian supported his old and weak body on a fashionable walking stick, taking one small step after another, he made a mental note to put up this topic, the shamelessness of these girls, in Reheman’s grocery shop. Where he meet a small group of fellow old men, who meets every evening, to shed away their monotone and exhaustion of old-age.
“It will provide a great fuel for a thick discussion, to spent the evening. Shamming the youths can never get boring”. Anticipating a great evening a wave of happiness washed over him.
But his happiness is cut short, as he saw a car, that just jumped the signal, racing towards him, his thoughts knotted into a mass of horror and panic, and before he can move an inch, he is obtruded in the air, without any hesitation by the car. When he came back on the ground again, his consciousness is on the brink of being snuffed out, weird things took grim shapes and came to life before his eyes, slowly slipping away into a repulsive unknown world, he felt a tug by an earnest voice.
“Uncle, uncle” the girls face bored through his fading vision. The beautiful face now has a steely resolve covering it.
“Stop a car, hey stop, stop” the rigidity and the commanding nature of the voice, gave him the assurance of safety, and a feeling of being alive.
The pedestrian felt his body is lifted up in the air again, but this time with care and under the careful supervision of a commanding female voice. He felt a soft touch of a palm on his forehead, as his head rested on the lap of the girl. He felt like he is a child again, just back from school, after cleaning and feeding him, his mother is trying to put him to sleep, with stories of prince and princesses, caressing his hair softly as his head rested in the warmth of her lap.
“Ma ” the word garbled out of his mouth.
After spending a few weeks in the hospital, his vitals finally attained stability, recovering from the sting of the accident. The pedestrians courage shied away from recounting that dreadful afternoon, as many peoples, his near and dear ones paid him a visit in the hospital. Even those relatives who usually alluded him, fearing to be asked for monetary help, came. Probably thinking he is just one step away from death, they provided condolences to the pedestrian’s family members, this sudden attention from everyone, made him feel important again, the hospital room became a stage for a happy family reunion. Among their numbers a member of the girls family also visited him regularly, on whom the visitors bestowed praise for her act of bravery.
One day the old man caught the girl’s fathers hand, with his weak and shaky hands, droplets of water collected at the corners of the pedestrian’s eyes,
“I will pray to god that every mother and father is gifted with a daughter like yours”.
–END–
