Friday, February 23, 2007

A Short Story

Partho watched another train go by… It was the 3:15 local that was late. The turn near the station was always something of a treat to watch. The trains made a sort of loop before entering the small station of Payera Danga and that turn made the train look amazingly like a snake or a centipede in motion. His train was late again and he was restless. He would miss the ferry and would have to depend on the conditions of the road before he could reach Burrabazaar. Ratan-da would be waiting for him to come and deposit the cash, he safely carried in the bag that he clutched tightly…
Weather was another concern for him, it was dark and wet. Even at that hour of evening it seemed almost late evening. The drizzle had presently stopped and he felt drenched. This money was all he had.
Four months back he had loaned a handsome amount of money… 10 thousand to be precise from Ratan-da. It was with this money that he wanted to start his sweet shop in the lines that Ratan-da had advised him. After all Ratan-da was an accomplished sweetmeat seller in Burrabazaar and had profits close to a lakh per month. Partho had learnt the tricks of the trade from none other than his idol Ratan Shau, once a local gangster and a friend of his father. After Partho’s father passed away a couple of months back, the only source of steady income for his family that comprised of only him now, has come to a full stop. His father used to work as the accountant at a local grocers’ and made just enough to make a living for the two of them. It would be unwise to say that Partho had a way with the local people. Twenty-three years of existence under his belt, he was a terror of the local people. He worked alone albeit under Bishu and spearheaded various acts of vandalism and fistfights in Payera Danga. But after his father passed away and he was left with nobody to abstain him form his rogue lifestyle realisation in the form of sanity dawned upon him. He saw Ratan Shau turn into a moneylender with his business flourishing and wanted to replicate the success story. The day the cremation got over he had gone straight to Bishu and expressed his willingness to turn into a sweetmeat seller. Bishu had obviously been very amused at first and tried persuading him to continue with his older profession but Partho was adamant. Bishu tried entreating him even offered him a full salary of Rs. 800 a month to continue working for him but that was not to be. Finally when nothing seemed to have come out of the discussion Bishu threatened Partho of dire consequences to which Partho laughed at and walked straight out. That was days ago. He had heard nothing from Bishu since.
He had in the meantime set up his own thatched roof shop near the station and sold sweets. Business was not good initially for he was a marked goon, but it slowly picked up and by the end of his second month it was doing well. Being the only sweetmeat shop near to the station people often brought sweets on arrival or while departing for a visit to some relations. He had spent only a thousand for his shop and bought it from the old fisherman who dreaded Partho. Investment was minimal and with a couple of thousand more he had the full furniture ready complete with a glass display and a couple of benches. Raw materials arrived from the neighbouring Madanpur and he made the sweets himself. He had been able to save about 7 thousand from his sales in four months and decided to return the money he had borrowed.
He presently moved out of the platform shade and strolled impatiently and pointlessly looking every now and then at the large electronic clock at the platform. Another couple of intent eyes scanned him from a distance.
The platform was mostly deserted. It was after all a very murky day with intermittent drizzling. There were very few unfortunate people who had some important assignments in other places waited for their trains to arrive.
-*-
Bishu needed money… and urgently. He had never thought that of all people Partho would desert him. Now that he needed some fresh blood to take care of his fast waning popularity; he was stranded. He knew the day Partho had walked out on him was the start of his fall. He had resented Partho since then and vowed revenge. He had sported a new look with a complete beard and a back-brush, which indeed changed, how he looked. He wanted to start afresh but he needed money now… needed it bad for there was his sister’s wedding and it should be some affair for everyone to speak about. He had been to Ratan-da after he came to know that he had helped Partho. He expected honour amongst thieves but to his dismay he returned empty handed. The collections from the local shops were of not much help either… moreover he has lost a good amount of territory after Partho left and had no longer the muscle power to regain his territories back. But one good thing he learnt from his visit to Ratan Shau, Partho would be in next week to return the money… and he made up his plan.
He watched from a distance covered in a raincoat as the tall figure moved about the platform. He knew what was in that bag. His new henchman Ali stood a bit further away from where Bishu stood and was drawing on the beedi intently. He was hardly in his twenty… This lad has promise, thought Bishu looking at Ali… But what he was about to do would test the steel in him. Partho was no ordinary target. He was well versed with all of this.
Somehow Bishu could not accept his present situation and believed axiomatically that his present woes are the direct consequences of Partho leaving him. He froze. Partho looked at him and then past him and he breathed again…
There was a distant whistle of an approaching train and he moved… Ali followed his motion and together they started approaching Partho.
-*-
The train snaked past the loop and approached the station decelerating. The announcement sometime back relieved Partho that his train was approaching. He let out a sigh of relief and walked towards the edge of the platform and again watched the train snake by the loop. It never failed to remind him of the childhood thoughts of a giant snake making its way towards the waiting preys…
The train was close now. He truned to move away from the edge and bumped into someone…
He felt a tug for his bag and before he could realize what was happening someone pushed him off the edge of the platform. Time seemed frozen for a moment as Partho helplessly tried to grab something in the thin air. He felt his bag gone. And in split of a second he saw a face that looked somewhat familiar. He knew who it was! But then it was too late… The train has come into the station and he fell as if for an eternity…

2 comments:

indranil said...

Suprio
After a long time I am posting something out here.
Khub bhalo laglo tomat golper plot. But I see a resemblence with the ending with one of Satyajit Ray's short stories. :-)

Oirpus said...

Indranil!!!!
After a loooong time...Thanks... kintu kono golpoer theke sotti eta neoa noy... disclaimer dilaam. :-)