The town was buzzing as usual
It was a busy hour of the day..
No. It was not morning, not office hours.
It was a nice, mesmerizing Sunday evening.
Not only a mere weekend, but a special one.. "Poyla Baisakh"(Bengali New Year).
The heart of the city was throbbing to welcome a new year, new day, and obviously new hope and prosperity.
Lights, balloons,flowers enhanced the beauty of the city.
Men,women, children- all in their new dresses were roaming all around.. purposeless they were.. may be some of them didn't even know which year they were ushering in..their dress up, fun and frolic, crowding in costly restaurants were just a mere celebration..may be just show off, nothing else.
May be the show off of typical bengali middle class mentality.
Like everyday that day too there were two different worlds in the same universe of kolkata.
one was lighted, joyous and the other was sinking in darkness, gloom and poverty.
There were many exceptions taking place all day long in the middle class world.
But the footsteps of mirth and prosperity didn't cross the boundary of the gloomy footpath.
All the glittering eyes of the street-dwellers were feeding their unfullfilled desires through watching the gorgeous crowd.
Thin,bonny figures- some bare and some in two pecies of tattered clothes- were sitting in vain hope.
The sky was clear, full of stars.
Under the shade of the universe, in the lap of earth.. a new would be mother gave birth of her girl-child.
where the people ushered the new year through celebration,
here the poor street dwellers welcomed the new angel, a new hope in the new year.
In the lap of the unconscious mother, the new baby smiled.
Poyla Boishakh gifted the dark world with a new moon in the footpath under the shadowy street light.
Thus blessed they were..
©manjistha
M