About Which Nobody Talks

This is in response to Reena’s Xploration Challenge#455

Include the following line either at the beginning or end of your piece.

The chapter will close with applause, regret and unanswered questions , exactly as it should close.

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The city of Kolkata is known for its cuisine, culture, literature and history. But during my stay there I observed which I am uncertain if any social commentator ever documented yet its existence was undeniable.

This was the time when unemployment was rampant in the State of West Bengal (Kolkata being its Capital). Examinations in schools, colleges and Universities got postponed for years at a stretch. Recruitments in the State Government and it’s various administrative arms were indefinitely suspended. But that did not stop the youth from getting educated. They learned. They questioned. They got frustrated. And at some point they just crossed over to the other side of sanity.

There was this gentleman of indeterminate age typically attired in full sleeves shirt and trousers with a satchel laden with books and papers on his shoulder as though  ready to catch the bus to go to his place of work. Instead he stood in the middle of the market talking incessantly  to some total stranger on why the country failed to progress as it should have.

Another gentleman boarded a particular bus speeding towards Office Para (where many offices were located) regularly during rush hour not to attend the office but to loudly give answers to the questions he was once asked in job interviews ages back. The regular commuters shook their head and said he had lost the count of time he got rejected for jobs. 

But the one who amazed and amused me the most was always stationed outside the Writer’s Building – the seat of power – wherein  the State Chief Minister’s Office was housed. Throughout the day he would  lambast aloud the Central Government for not supporting the State Government both at that time being run by two opponent political parties. It was habitual of the State to put all the blame on the Centre whenever they failed to deliver. The unkempt man just made the rifts more voluble. However, in the evening when the CM’s entourage sped out of the guarded gates he would put a finger on his lips and stand quietly till the last vehicle turned was out of sight. As the tail lights disappeared round the corner  he would smirk and remark to himself,”Rajib ke boley debo.” (I would tell the Prime Minister at the Centre what you are up to).

Those days my paternal aunt was posted at Writer’s. My office was in the block right behind. I used to take a return bus from the terminus opposite the imposing edifice wherein the survival of millions was decided. Often at home we laughed about the drama that unfolded everyday without fail – a mad man defecting from one opponent party to the other on a day to day basis!!

This chapter will close with applause, regret and unanswered questions , exactly as it should close.

In this world nonsense making sense is applause worthy. That we are able to humour what is regrettable perhaps keeps us going. Maybe the answers to uncomfortable questions lie in the resounding silence that lingers on.

This is the exact way it has always been.

This is the exact way it shall always be.