By Purnendu Sekhar Ghosh
Her name is Rehana Sultana.
Her hair is bobbed, thick, and curly.
Eyes are floating
With a gentle, elongated look.
Her face is reddish-white.
Never seen her wearing a hijab,
Though she carefully keeps herself
Decently covered.
Can't remember when and where I first met her.
I search for her in memory — in school, in college,
Or even in coaching class, but in vain.
Can't find that first meeting
In the remotest corner of my memory.
For now, she is my co-passenger.
We travel together almost every day
On our way to the office,
In a shared auto, in the local train or metro,
Sometimes in a crowded bus.
I know her, and her name too —
On this pretext, sometimes I sit next to her.
And when face to face, she welcomes with a silent smile.
Hidden in that smile, maybe there is a future for us —
Such thoughts keep me sleepless at night.
That she too knows my name
Was unknown to me for long.
One day she called me ‘Paltu-da’ —
The weird nickname
The boys in the neighborhood call me by.
My God!
How did she come to know this weird nickname?
Will anyone ever fall in love with such a weird name!
Doesn’t she know my formal name?
Amalesh, Amalesh.........
Instead of ‘Paltu-da’, call me ‘Amalesh’.
Heart fills with sadness and regret.
Why do the elders at home
Have to give me such strange nicknames?
Who will explain it now?
Who will understand the depth of my sadness?
The daily office commute
Is like going to war nowadays.
Feels fatigued and wearisome
Without that face seen around.
Years passed.
The meaning of life started getting hazy,
Emptiness started pervading.
Interaction with her was few and far between.
Rarely she spoke — a few words at best.
One day, drawing courage, I said with a smile,
‘Calling me Paltu-da suits the errand boys.
You can call me by my real name.
Do you know it?’
‘Yes, yes, why wouldn’t I?
Amalesh — but the name is longish,
With the addition of ‘da’ for elders, it’s long.
Easier to call by the nickname.’
I said with a hard-drawn smile,
‘Is it such a big difference in our age
That you have to add ‘da’ to my name?
Call me just ‘Amalesh’.’
Many days passed.
Occasions to use either ‘Paltu-da’ or ‘Amalesh’ dried.
Wondered how many blunders I make in life!
What was the harm if someone was happy
To call me by a short name?
‘What’s in a name?’ — only Shakespeare knows.
Blunders and blunders! It seems
I have learnt to make only blunders in life.
Familiar face, suppressed smile —
In a crowd of thousands,
It still feels there is someone with me, beside.
It’s good not to get everything you desire.
Or else, who will ever look back in life?
This is much better —
A silent, wordless journey together,
With the satisfying assurance
Of having someone known beside you.