Eternal Paradise

 "And yesterday I saw you kissing tiny flowers,
But all that lives is born to die.
And so I say to you that nothing really matters,
And all you do is stand and cry."

The Led Zeppelin song was playing in my laptop as the rains drizzled down the window panes.It was almost 3 and there was not a single living being outside.I closed the book I was reading and lay ensconced in my bed humming the tune.The song was reminiscent of numerous farewells,forgotten faces,people who had been there once but now they were gone.I closed my eyes and I heard some voices in my head.I could see some known faces, a house in the middle of the woods.That was my home once.I used to stay in Sonarpur,a small town nestled in the corner of the city.It has been ten years since I  left that place as the train journeys at night were becoming tiresome.I had spent 10 years of my life there surrounded by the most amazing people whom I had known.I had grown up there,I had learnt to walk there and I had made my first friends there.Sonarpur was quite populated unlike other towns and over the years,it has changed itself with great celerity.And one day,the government declared it a part of Kolkata.If you ever come to Sonarpur by train,you would be overwhelmed by mother nature's mesmerizing beauty.Verdant meadows where the cows graze,the small huts far away,the sun peeking from the countryside,the birds flying to far away lands forming an origami in the sky.You will hear the sound of the stream and the cranes quenching their thirst,pecking at their feathers.The women from the nearby villages washing their clothes and carrying pitcher full of water as they sing some lullaby.You will find children playing in the fields with pieces of wood and often sitting on the coconut trees trying to get fresh coconuts.And in the Autumn,there would be kashful all along the railway tracks.The gentle zephyr would make their heads sway in harmony and you will wonder only if William Wordsworth was born here,he would have written a poem on our kashful instead of the daffodils.

I had lots of friends in Sonarpur.Some older,and some younger.Deba,Tuna,Raja,Lucy Di,Babai Dada.They seemed to be the most inevitable part of my childhood,they came as they went.I used to play all sorts of games with them,hide-and-seek,kabadi were too mainstream.I used to play cricket with the boys.I was quite a good player.I used to dress like a guy most of the time and was quite dependable as a team player.Deba and I always wanted to be in the same team.He was the best player.Cricket would be part of the afternoon schedule and the mornings were more or less like Famous Five,Jurassic Park and Tintin clumped together-children stranded in the island, sometimes we were chased by the dinosaurs and we would hide under the beds.Tuna would always be the damsel in distress abducted by monsters and aliens and the rest of us would try to rescue her.
Birthdays at Sonarpur were the best.Two birthday cakes,one from my parents and one from my sister.Photo sessions and princess diaries,balloons and crackers.Good food made by mom and party songs.Gifts that came wrapped in colourful papers.Me and my gang often hanged out at an open spot near the railway tracks.We were often joined by other kids.There was some kind of animosity between them and us ,maybe because they were a but more sophisticated than us.Anyways,our games ended with heated arguments between the kids and we returned home only to be scolded by mom to sit down and do the homework at the end of the day.


Holi was one thing we waited for every year.We would buy lots of colours and throw them at random people on the streets.Once, we were out of colours and Deba suggested that we play with paints.Well,it didn't turn out to be a great idea at the end of the day.

It was 2005 when father decided to shift to Kolkata permanently.I acquiesced in his decision but I couldn't tell my friends that all our games will be over now.That year,father didn't let me play Holi.He said that I am growing up and I need to be more careful now.I was saddened by the fact that I was growing up to be some woman who was no longer eligible to play her silly games.Deba would call me everyday but I would say I can't.

 

"I don't know how I'm gonna tell you,
I can't play with you no more,
I don't know how I'm gonna do what mama told me,
My friend, the boy next door."

And the day came faster than I thought.All our belongings were packed.Some strange people had bought our house.I was vexed by the very thought of giving away my beloved house to someone I don't know.That person would be sleeping in my room and sitting in my balcony.This used to be my Eden and now the flowers will no longer bloom here once I'm gone.I used to cry inconsolably when no one was watching and asked God to make my Dad change his decision to go.But I had to go.I still remember their faces when I said the last goodbye.The gang leader was leaving.Who will guide them now?
There was a point of time when I used to think I would come to Sonarpur everyday and play with my friends,but all those thoughts lost meaning as I indulged myself in the pleasures of the city life.I never met my friends after that farewell.I don't know what they look like now.Do they think of me?Do they remember me?I am oblivious of their lives as they are of mine.

The rain has stopped by this time.I was overwhelmed by the rush of memories that had occupied my mind for a few hours.Sonarpur,the indelible part of my life,the place where I belong,the place of my dreams,the eternal love of my life.My Malgudi,my Nischindopur,my Aberdeen.I slowly fell asleep..

"That's the way, oh,
That's the way it ought to be,"