Pratim is a photographer --- rather a recent graduate struggling to secure some ground in the field of photography. It is
a pretty tough job in a city like Calcutta, where Pratim has settled only a few months back. He lives in an
apartment --- on the third floor of a house named “Kamala Villa” --- not a very big one but having a nice window which provides a view of the citylights as well as the open sky. In the City of Joy where it’s truly difficult to find real friends, Pratim doesn’t have a friend too! In his solitude the window is his only companion and friend! Rather strangely, Pratim seems to be able to communicate with the window. Whenever Pratim is sad the blue of the sky would appear to be deeper through the window. And then all of a sudden a handsome bird would come and sit on the window and sing softly as if trying to change Pratim’s mood. Every morning the window would usher golden sunlight into the whole apartment, scaring away all that is dark, as if saying “Good Morning”. Whenever Pratim sits to hear some music on the radio set, the curtain over the window would flutter in a rhythm as if it were also listening to the music. In short, in a city like Calcutta where society has degraded to a bunch of envious individuals, the window was Pratim’s only pal.
Presently a new occupant came into the apartment adjoining Pratim’s. It was a lady in her mid 30’s and a singer by profession. Pratim first met her when she dropped in into his apartment one evening for a chat. Her name was Rachna. Inspite of her age she was quite pretty and had a grace in the manner she carried herself.
She was alone too, and in their loneliness they started to enjoy each other’s company. Unfortunately in this country where such a
relation is sin to the eyes of the society, their relation too met no better fate. The other occupants of “Kamala Villa” started to pass comments behind their backs. However, Pratim turned a deaf ear to all this.
One afternoon Pratim sat on his bed pondering over his relation with Rachna. Was he falling in love with her? Should they get married? Should they care about what society says? All these questions crowded his mind. After all Rachna was ten years older than him!
“The sunlight never hits my eyes so hard when I sit here, why is it then happening today?” Pratim asked himself.
It was the first time Pratim was unable to interpret what the window was trying to convey. A harsh sunlight coming through the window was interrupting his thoughts! Disturbed with all these confusions, Pratim went out of his apartment after a while.
The next day he approached Rachna with a proposal of marriage. She listened to whatever Pratim had to say and then said, “I am sorry to say but I cannot accept your proposal! I have forgotten to tell you that I have got a job offer at the AIR FM, Delhi. I am leaving Calcutta in two days. I don’t know if I have fallen in love with you too but I must tell you that I’ll never forget you Pratim.” Her voice cracking in the last line she quickly went away. Rachna left for Delhi after two days.
In India it is very difficult for a woman to go against the odds of the society and simultaneously succeed in an ambitious career. Though with a heavy heart, Rachna decided to take the easier path.
Pratim was again alone in his apartment. He sat on his couch staring at the window --- his only pal --- thinking why it never indicated anything, oblivious of the fact that the window did warn him. The hard sunlight that once disturbed his thoughts were an indication of the fact that the truth is always bitter and stranger than fiction, they were the answers to the questions that then crowded his mind --- the window did keep its friendship!
Today, when Pratim’s world is in doldrums, he is again unable to interpret what the window --- his only pal --- was trying to convey. Today it is not reflecting his sorrow instead everything seems strikingly normal as Pratim sat looking at it.
It is depicting a view of the busy streetsbelow “Kamala Villa”. People entering and leaving the business houses. Somewhere an ambulance was hurrying towards a nearby hospital.
A hawker sitting on the footpath was screaming “Handkerchiefs! Cheap handkerchiefs for sale! Ten rupees only for a pair! Sale…. Sale”
PRASUN