By Priyendra Kishore Dutta
Letter from Jimut to Tani Hi T, Long time. In fact so long that probably I forgot where I ended my last letter and am very sure you too. So, and also for reasons other than this, please pardon me if I am a little or a lot incoherent with this one. Moreover, words are not my forte, never were. So may be a bit of derailment wouldn’t annoy you much. Speaking of rail, you remember, we got into a train to go this small village? Yeah, am talking about that one. You see the train was so full that you and I couldn’t even sit side by side. I got a tired window-seat and you too scraped one on the aisle a few rows back. Worse, your and my seats were facing opposite directions, so we could not even see each other. Though I didn’t know how much you actually you wanted to see me, considering the way you just plopped into the seat, closed your eyes and almost started snoring right after. Can’t blame you, I too was exhausted. Later, after coming back you asked me many times which part of the trip I liked the most and I don’t know whether you noticed it or not that every time I gave you a different answer. Because, am not good with lies and can’t remember them well enough to invoke them again if necessary. So, do you want to know the truth? Ok, who cares, this is my letter, so even if you are not interested let me just speak it out today. As I said I too was exhausted, I too slept off leaning at the window soon enough. All I remember was before closing my eyes I saw this friendly-looking middle-aged woman next to my seat and maybe I even faintly exchanged a smile. The next thing I remember was I felt a sensation close to my heart and opened my eyes. And I saw there you were, sitting right next to me, trying to slip in a small piece of paper into my chest-pocket. So, that was the reason for the tug at my heart after all! For a while it seemed like a dream as I kept staring at you. You were so busy to put the paper in my pocket that it took you some time to realize that my eyes were open. So, you said “O! you are up! Ok, I just borrowed this seat from this sweet lady just for a while so that I could slip this paper into your pocket. It’s my seat number, 39. I thought if I am not in my seat when you wake up at least you should know my seat number so that we don’t get lost to each other. I mean, we have a whole new town to be lost in, but at least let us do it together.” You smiled, patted on my pocket and went back, probably to your own seat.
And I was dazed, because I was just dreaming about you and I opened my eyes and I saw you. I was thinking if it too was a dream and I wished that moment stayed longer. You know what, I still have that paper in my wallet. Why those frowns, T? What are you thinking? I know what you are thinking. You are totally confused as you are racking your brain to remember when this happened, because as far as your memory goes, we never travelled together in train. And your memory is right. Yes T, we have never been in train together and this never happened. But it might, right! So, you can call it my dream or my fantasy as much as you want. But I call it my alternative reality. A reality that might have been lived in this world in this timeline or may even be a reality that we are living in a different world in a different timeline as we debate it out here. Please don’t come to me with all your practicality and shake me up and tell me in your patronizing voice, “Hey, but this is not real.”. No T, this is real. As much real as you and I are. After all, we decide what is real for us and what is not. I love my mom and therefore I think she is a good and great lady and because I choose to think so that is my reality. So, therefore, it doesn’t matter even if the rest of the world comes to me with hard evidence contrary to my belief I shall dismiss all of them as unreal as I have already decided what my reality is: my mom is great. Anything that doesn’t corroborate to this perception of reality of mine will thus be considered as anything else but reality. So, please let me live with my reality and you live with yours. Maybe you never put a pencil in your hand-bun, maybe we never went to a village together, maybe we never even studied in the same college or same year or same department! But all these maybe do not matter to me, what matters is what might be. All these might have happened or may have actually happened! All these and more. So, let me live in this world that might have been, because this world is much better than the world that you and the society at large want me to accept as real. You may be surprised by this sudden release of pent-up insanity. But you know what T, with every passing day I am becoming more and more conscious about the transience of our lives. You and I were decided to be created by a creator or creators. Just like that, the day we were created we were also handed an expiry ticket beyond which we will not exist. Therefore, I just wanted you to know a few realities of mine before one of us cease to exist. And let me tell you one more thing T, I don’t want to exist in a world where you are not there. Or to be precise where I know you are not there. I can’t take it, I shall not be able to take it. See, even now it has been years since we talked, I know I shall not get replies to my mails. But I also know, that there is a possibility where you “might” call me up, you “might” just send me a mail back some day because I know that you still exist. I am content with that. That knowledge is assurance and motivation enough for me to wade through this world. But I can’t accept a world where even the “might be” is snatched away from me, where I know that we can never be on a train, I can never see you push a pencil in your hand-bun, I can never buy you an ice-cream. So, until that happens, maybe I shall keep writing my letters, despite your stone-cold silence. -J
By Priyendra Kishore Dutta
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