Towards the Mid of April, when the frequency of eruption of hot lava coming out from my bottled up soul was gradually dwindling, when I, as a family head, again started behaving like a normal person, the way people think about normal behavior as normal, although in reality it actually represents a bit cowardice, self-centered sheepish behavior, absolutely thinking not for anyone else but for his own self and whoever is with him in the four walls of the small city apartment, not as anybody capable enough of judging many other real problems and issues faced by the world outside his four walls, particularly the poor, weak people, a selfish family man who does not even bother if anything happens in his neighborhood, forget about global problems, appropriate for many wives for whom family comes first and for those who think like, "Men will be men. Pati ko malum nahin patni kaysi hain , lekin Patna mein kya ho raha hain, uski khabar barabar hain...”, the personal husband, the personal loving, caring dad of the little son, the smiling, soothing kind of Som we knew for so many years while having morning tea and breakfast with my wife Reema murmured, with a deep perplexed look, who was still not sure how I would react,
”Som, you know, the past few months were just nightmares for Ryan and Me. We never thought that you could be so much enraged and remain like this for such a long period of time. We were really bruised. Our whole family got almost burnt from the fire coming out from yourself. I had to update myself about the way anti-depressant actually works and how it actually covers up the internal trauma of a person so that the outside world thinks that he is behaving normally although the person himself is not actually soothing from the inside. It's just like covering up the dirt under the clean red carpet of the corporate corridor. A real #mask for the outside world. And as a wife, although I could not withstand the attacks you were directing towards me and everybody around us whom we thought of differently, and the whole day I had to lock myself up inside the closed-door room to protect my inner soul when our son Ryan was also kind of looking for an escape route through Minecraft and we actually lost our computer scientist son, your best student whom you trained so meticulously, a real bright kid who was getting ready for the nation, but i had to just wait and pray - iss shaam ki bhi subah hogi.
It took Ryan and me a hell of a lot of courage and bravery and faith in the almighty that we will get back you within us - a real charming you - but as a new version - the original version - that was missing somehow - that I never knew - and that our son never saw - a person who came out from the solid, secured Purulia family, and lost his soul to fit himself in the society.
In fact, I and Ryan used to have a discussion like, “Betu, don’t worry. we will bring back your Baba with love and care...”
I remember, how you used to express your agony at the workplace when your colleagues were openly discussing you like “Usko daba. Aur daba. Bolne mat de” and I now feel how it actually happened for so many years.
And then statements like “uska time pass kar de. Sirf time pass” from a senior person holding a responsible position in a big corporate house.
And now I can only regret, how a nation has actually lost a nice engineer who might work as a lighthouse for many people in the tech sector or a #dronacharya - for actually nothing but a big Zero.
This is the destiny of this poor nation - where weak, and manipulative, people will be pushed to the top to clear the pathway for other such people to move up the same way and there will be absolutely no place for the real patriots at the top.”
I then soothed her emotion saying…
“Now think about how Gumnami Baba or Shyma Prasad Mukherjee died with bottled up emotive powers and pray for their souls to cool down in the heaven”
A few days after that conversation, I referred her to the R C Majumdar history book to study along with Sanskrit.
And a few days back, when she was discussing different aspects of the Indian bastards, and all the backstabbing of the Indian history, that is meticulously described in that history book and said, ‘Som, the knowledge that I am gaining is not entering my brain, but my heart” and then I told her,
“Okay, now please pray for the soul of the author of the book as well to cool down in the heaven because even he was harassed badly by the first gigolo of Bharat, and even he died with a bottled-up soul just like your own husband who died in front of your own eyes to take a rebirth as a new person and you yourself saw the transformation from a caterpillar to a butterfly for a human soul... and we can do that only if we somehow convince the education ministry of #bharat to include his book as the main source of historical knowledge for the students and kick out all the leftist historian's books and their influences from the minds of the young students of our nation... this will be our own way to cool down the sad, depressed soul of R C Majumdar sir spending sleepless nights alone in the heaven crying silently...”
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