A Late Winter Evening

It was a late winter evening. The mercury was dropping low & there was an air of uncanny silence on the streets. The usual confusions & commotions of the streets were marred by the chilly evening that could easily send a shiver down the spine. Low murmurings from the nearby houses could be heard amidst the gloomy silence. The lead sky enveloped the entire town. The only sound that could be heard on the street amidst the abominable silence was that of my foot-steps. As I was striding fast towards my home, my eyes caught the sight of a park on one side of the street. It was the same park in which I, as a child, used to spend hours playing with my friends. Those good old days were really splendid. The revival of the sweet memories of my childhood forced me to cool my heels in that park & I just went inside & sat on a bench. The serene & calm environment of the park was exactly what I needed after burning the candle at both the ends, this entire day.

Just as I was pondering over the entire day & wondering about how on this earth would I be able to finish the loads of pending assignments piled on my table, I could feel a cool breeze blowing past my head. Instinctively, I threw my gaze in the direction of the wind & my eyes caught sight of something. From the far end of the street, the glimpse of a strange shadow caught my attention. As the shadow approached my proximity, it revealed itself to be a boy in his late teens. There was something unwonted about that boy. As he was staggering across the street, his pale cadaverous face & the slouch body could be seen in the dim light of a nearby lamp-post. His mind, like a ragamuffin, was trudging in its own world of thoughts. He seemed to have had no conscious of how long he has been striding on that street. The boy didn’t seem to be a vagrant at the usual sight. His demeanor was quite modest. His queer absorption in his own silence made me really curious. He came near me & sat on the same bench in the park on which hitherto I was the only living creature sitting in that chilly evening. He looked at me, perhaps with an aim to break that chilly silence but something choked him. Probably he wished to speak his heart out, that’s the best I could gauge by looking at his face. I was cock sure that there was something for him to speak, something to share but at the same time something held him back. This dilemma held him in between the devil & the deep-sea. I could easily read his face at that time & I am saying this not because I am blowing away my own trumpet, but because his silence spoke much more than his words would ever speak. After making his best efforts, he finally condescended to whatever held him from speaking out his heart. He dropped his head back in the ambiguity of his thoughts. Sitting beside him, I could not control my urge to sneak in to his mind, so I decided to break the ice.

“It has been really a chilly evening, don’t you think so?” I quipped in a soft voice.

My first attempt went unnoticed. It was not a big thing because I understood it very well that I don’t have the gift of the gab. Perhaps my question would have sounded too silly to him to answer. We were just strangers after all and one could easily say that by that time, he was not at all in the mood of having any kind of conversation. Still I made a second attempt.

“Hey pal!” I murmured like an old comrade. My perseverance answered me this time. He lifted his eyes and threw a gaze up on me. I could easily understand what he was trying to communicate non-verbally. Perhaps my little attempt has disturbed his voyage in the ocean of his queer thoughts & I understood that my words of concern meant no more than a piece of jargon to him. There was a sea change in his attitude over that short period of time. The guy, who seemed to have a lot of things to speak, was almost like a hermit who just wished to be left alone in his own ambiguity, undisturbed. He stood up all of a sudden and staggered away from me.

“How can anybody be so rude?” I asked myself. However I reminded myself that it would be better to abstain from making any conjecture about a person you know nothing about. This unusual & strange meeting with a stranger made me lose track of the time & I just looked at my watch to know how late it has been since I was sitting there. It showed 8 O’clock & the air was colder than before. The load of my college-assignments at my table took a toll at me and I thought it would be better if I make it fast to my home. Just as I stood up and took some steps in my direction, I realized that I had stepped on something. It appeared to be a book at the first sight. I stooped low & picked it up. Just as I opened it I realized that it was not just a book, a diary in fact. It was not there when I first came in the park this evening. Perhaps it belonged to that strange guy who might have dropped it there. Lost in his own thoughts, he would not have even realized it. I cannot decipher anything else written on it, just some initials which were calligraphed in beautiful italic style. It read A S. I went near the lamp-post in an attempt to read the name on it. “This diary belongs to Aniket Sinha”, it read. This was perhaps the name of that strange boy. It even had an address at its bottom. “B-9, Arjun Nagar”, it was. I thought I should go & return it at that address but recalled that it would take me quite a long time on foot to reach there & back. Anyway Arjun Nagar is on the way to my college, so I decided that I would return it tomorrow when I will be heading home from my college. Having reached the conclusion, I headed home in a hurry.

It was only after walking through a small distance when I heard the sound of footsteps other than mine, trying to dissimulate in the rustling of the leaves. Suddenly the graveyard silence was broken. I heard a voice calling out ‘Excuse me!’ I turned back in exasperation & found the same boy standing right behind me. “I think you have got something which belongs to me” he quipped. I, at once, looked at my hand which held that book. “Oh! Yeah! I just found it lying on the pavements in the park. Sorry!” I said at once. By now, he has fixed his sight back on the ground. I handed him the book. “I cannot afford to lose this diary now” he murmured, while gazing at the book. His voice had clear signs of nostalgia. His thoughts brought a strange & uncanny silence between us. The silence grew more & more awkward as we both kept mum and it started to get on my nerves, so I threw him another question in a jiffy.

“Where do you live Aniket?” I asked.

The discomfiture that this question brought to him was quite discernible. He raised his head at once. Now he was looking straight into my eyes. “I am not Aniket” he answered, “I am Nishkarsh. Aniket was my friend.”

“Oh! Sorry. I just read the name Aniket on that diary, so I thought it must be you.” I told him. Surprisingly, this time he answered me instantly. He said, “This diary belongs to my friend.” As he spoke about his friend, there was a tinge of anguish on his face which he could not hide, despite his deliberate efforts. So I thought to change the topic. I asked him, “Where do you live?” He answered, “Sheetal Nagar, near Holi Maidan.” “Oh! That’s on my way. Would you mind if I accompany you in your walk?” I asked him, hoping for a positive response. He gave his assent and we both started our small journey.

While we were on our way, I thought to take a leap into the dark and ask him about his friend. Perhaps this question could answer my urge to know more about him. I asked him, “You both must have been really good friends, I mean then only he would have given his diary to you to read.” His uneasiness grew further at this question. By now, I was chiding myself for having asked such a question that is no less than a fatal arrow to the man who seems to be already in the blues. With a long face, he answered it.

“I wish I would have realized what you just said but perhaps it’s too late now. He was a guy with all the qualities of head & heart. A person on whom I counted on, each time I had any problem, a person who used to be at my beck & call, each time I needed him, a person who would throw his own problem to the winds to stand beside me in my sorrows, a person who would never let me lose hope even when he himself used to be skeptical of anything.  He kept the wolves away from my door; he cared for me like an elder brother and expected neither acknowledgement nor anything else. But what did I do, I have always been so callous and indifferent towards him. Whenever we used to sit with our other friends, his presence meant nothing to me as I used to be so much absorbed in my chit-chats with other friends which were more enthralling for me. In fact whenever he needed an ear to hear his problems & worries, I didn’t lend mine. My indifference didn’t make any difference. He would ignore everything each day and start afresh. If I would have been at his place and he would have taken mine, I would have left him far behind but he never did. He was so tenacious when it came to keeping our friendship alive. He never left my side through my thick & thin & I used to leave him alone most of the time. Now that he is gone, I really reprehend myself for what I have done.”

“So finally his perseverance yielded and he has left you behind.” I chuckled.

He gave me a nostalgic smile and said, “He could never do that even in his wildest dreams. I know him. No matter how good or bad of a friend I ever turn out to be, he will never leave the person he called his ‘best friend’. Such people are really rare. Somehow I got my hands laid on this old diary. Now that I have read it, I realize what I have done. I could have reciprocated his friendship but I never did. I could have been with him all the time, but I just made him feel unwanted each time. My behavior has had a grave impact on him. His faith on friendship has been benumbed. Yet he didn’t say a word, just confided everything in his diary. Lately, he started enjoying his solitude rather than the human company and now I hold myself responsible for it. Even after all of this, he didn’t want to leave without meeting me for the last time.” He lowered his head as he said these last words.

“It means you have met him before he left the town. I am sure you would have made up for everything you now regret for.” I took a sigh of relief.

But he was not happy. “I wish I could have got the chance to do what you said”, he said, “You know what the last thing he did was? He saved me from a fatal accident and that idiot person met my doom.” A tear rolled down his eyes as he recalled it. “Even at the hospital, he didn’t breathe his last breath until he met me, one last time.” Now I can realize what he meant when he said that Aniket ‘was’ his friend.

By this time, we found ourselves in front of his door and he left me to tread on my remaining path alone. I was just wondering how a person can be so selfless. Aniket never received the same acceptance as a friend as he gave it to Nishkarsh. His selfless efforts were never acknowledged yet he never complained. He just did what was ought to be done, made his mark & left the stage. As for Nishkarsh, what is the use of repenting over his follies now, when you cannot change anything? I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even realize that I have reached my door. Today, as I jot down this incident, I really wish Aniket could have got something better in return.  I recall the words of Mother Teresa who once said, “Loneliness & the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.” Aniket gave so much to others and yet remained poor. I don’t know much of their story but I really wish I would have got a friend like Aniket. Lately, that late winter evening has baffled me with some unanswered questions. Could Aniket have met a better end? Didn’t his story deserve a way better ending? These questions are subjective, their answers vary from person to person and I do realize it. Having found my own answers to these questions, I sign off.