The Last Walk

Swapan retired from service at the evening on that day.  The farewell meeting began. Some colleagues eulogized about him and the chief boss, in his valedictory speech, praised the colleagues, for arranging such occasion and gave him a watch as a token gift by wishing a happy retired life. After the meeting, the every one left and I said to him let’s have a last walk together from office to station, the practice being followed for last nearly thirty years. Down under the GPO clock, I pointed out to him to have a final glimpse of the illuminated tangible darkness area, due to late December fog, from the next day he would not be a frequenter at that site.  I also incredulously asked how he would spend the rest of his life without office, which became haven of us for decades. Did he consider to have led a successful life? He smiled and became nostalgic recalling our first walk together, with other colleagues, en masse, returning to the house on this path.  Those were Saha Da, Mani Da, Roy Da, Mukhejee Da, Das Da, Choudhry saheb and us. He recounted philosophically they had retired from service long back or had died. How did they lead their retired life? Did they call themselves to lead a victorious life or after retirement from service, the life became useless? He started to recite:-

Take illustrations, to begin with, Saha Da had a great love for music. Always after office, he hurried back to attend music classes either for learning or for teaching. By trying at best, he desired to be a good musician. The daily practice made him some hard earned fame although he was not satiated with the gain. He retired from the office voluntarily and joined to flock with the musicians at Tollygunge studio. The life was not so easy for him. He did not find any jobs for years together and gradually, became a co artist of the other musicians with a paltry amount of fees which were not suffice to maintain even his own livelihood. But, the spirit was not daunted.  After struggling, year after year, he managed to cling to that profession but the passion for which he leaped to provide good music to the reel, could not be achieved as the taste and the feelings of men changed by that time, and the demand for melodious music replaced by rock band captioning life oriented song. Further, the technology in that field had also rapidly been developed with the sheer blessings of science. Gone were those days of traditional notations and composition of songs. This yielded him without any work and later on, he led a heartbroken life to decay.

Mani Da was a perfect gentleman. With his education background, he desired to become a good educationist. He often sent articles to the university magazines. At night, he used to attend classes to get a doctorate in the Physics. From morning to evening in the office hours, his mind concentrated on the physics and from the evening to the midnight he devoted fully in his laboratory made up by his sheer endeavor at his house. Truly, he tried to become master of the subject. The demand to learn physics among the students were increasing as there was every scope to get a lucrative service in that field. Mani Da involved himself in professional teaching and became a money-spinner object. He earned money from his tuitions but the passion, love, and something to do attitude in that field ultimately changed. At his superannuated days, Mani Da told me that what he desired to become, could not be achieved but what he did not long for, could be accomplice.

Roy Da was a good orator. He could explain any subject impromptu and desired to become a social worker. At the time of any calamities, he took leave from the office to stand by the side of the people. His oratory skills and knowledge of the social structure made him very popular but he had no foresight. A lot of money was coming in and the final gain in the politics was power. The acronym in modern politics highlights that eulogy about proletariat would be on the lip, the appearance would be like beggar but the veiled hunger would be to grab absolute power and without power there would be no one around.  Roy Da had no faith upon such ideology and one day found that his friends became foe. Those, whom he reared, had no confidence upon him and incognito, tried to displace from his position. Subsequently, he left the scene having been completely shattered and disgruntled. Thus, his life could not be declared as a prolific.

Mukherjee Da was a complete family man. He had a different passion. His only son would become a good doctor. May be this passion developed from his unfulfilled dream. He tried almost everything to bring up his son to take up this mantle, by leading a miserable life to save expenses so that such money could be utilized in the tuitions of his son. He was seen on many occasions to save money for the sake of his son. He curtailed his own necessity from foods to apparel. In the morning, he attended office taking forty minutes walk to save bus fare, worked hard almost every day without any food, draping a clown type dress and at the dusk, searching books at the college street market for his son, which would provide additional information to him. But with the passage of time, the illusion had bumped as his son had no interest in the studies and later gave up studies. The frail hopes, eventually, drove Mukherjee Da to pass the remaining life like a half insane person which ultimately ended up by committing suicide, falling from the roof of the skyscraper. Thus, his life could not be hailed as a fruitful.

Das Da was also a man of romanticist. His obsession was to lead a life like a free man having no burden. He earned a lot but his reckless life made him an extravagant. His good-looking physique, adorned always in the dress and sweet perfume from his apparels made him very attractive. Quite often he exploited many girls ; he did not pay any heed to the old adage that “cut your expenditure according to your cloth”. He had a tremendous lust for opposite gender. As the bad habit makes a man imperfect, he was addicted to hot drinks. But, addiction required the consent of pocket. Owing to its inability, sometimes he took loan on interests. For his bonhomie attitude, he was never able to pay back and at last called as a cheat. These put him into troublesome affairs to do some unruly things. He was arrested and sent behind the bar. He was still languishing in the jail. He, thus, could not be declared as a true achiever.

Roy Chowdhury was a bureaucrat. As his profession sets to be, right from his career, he longed to climb up to its zenith. The fascinating education background with a doctorate in the microbiology and his total endeavor enabled to excel his career, topping in the all India civil service examination. He started as administrator of an organization. Power and perks became the secret aim while the graded seniority book was the holy bible decorated in his pocket. He noticed that the surroundings were always with interest and the apparent colleagues put a hypocrite mask as friends.  He cornered himself in a small orbit. The main aim would be to go to the top where money and power would be unlimited and this pinnacle would have to be reached at any cost, became an obsession. The society was fast changing and the life becoming tougher with the soaring prices of the commodities. On the other hand, new class of managers in the corporate houses with lucrative perks, power and other elements were also emerging who did not have any match with managers of government organizations. The comparison with the corporate brigs looked down on him, as a result running after money was the passion to earn power and put him into corruption related activities. In the rat race he found no one around and his service bore red marks to block his career. In the end, he retired completely traumatized with insomnious eyes of friends, family and colleagues. Thus, his life could not be aspired to be creative. 

Swapan, himself wanted to become a good dramatist.  Right from day to midnight, he left no stones unturned to clutch that profession. This resulted that he had no one to look after at the time of twilight age. He could easily recall the days of Kallol, Ferari Fouz and Natyakarer Sandhane Chatti Charitra where he took part. Often, he went to the different remote places to stage the drama and on many occasions, he did not have any hesitation to bear the entire expenditure from his own pocket. He was so busy in those days that he used to regret that 24 hours span for a day was not sufficient and had there been any scope to increase the duration; he would have more time to devote to the artistic skills. The stage became his life and the office became a club of drama.  But now no one bothered to go the theater for entertainment. Thus, those hay days of drama departed and all thespians became ineffectual. The grief to increase time span took the opposite turn because there is ample time in hand to pass over nonchalantly. Thus, his life could not be qualified to view as imaginative.

He concluded that nothing remained perpetual in this world. The failure was all way in every spheres of life. Men dreamt for one thing while he begot others. Man’s ability was adjudged by his achievement and when his hope got belied, he became snubbed. But, by nature, he could not sit idle and had to live in the materialistic world, where desires, happiness, pains, agony and sorrows were part and parcel of life. Unfulfilled dreams naturally gave pain but at the same time provided succor to with stand the sufferings, bringing in new hope like cluster of arrayed stars, to perform on the other domain as all could never be lost at a time. Retirement may be an escape from dull routines but could not be an escape from cross-currents of life. Our desires remained unfulfilled but those brought to grow with other desires with the passage of time like one chapter, being always followed by another. Might be in his new life, the old colleagues would not find a place, but as the office brought them near together, who could tell that some other colleagues would not be waiting for him, to form a galvanized group, which could be broken unto the grave. After all, there was solace to remember that life does not stand motionless and it continues with its armlet of pangs of sufferings from sorrows where happiness is occasional episode.  Biding adieu, he went away for a meandering path.