Wednesday, September 14, 2016


Anyone can notice Paresh da sitting beside the corporation gate with a cardboard hanging from his table, in which boldly written were the words 'ANY LETTER OR DOCUMENT PRINTING DONE HERE '.Pareshda got this business from his father who used to sit in the same position with the same sign board and the same typewriter. But years had gone after his father's death even Paresh da had spent one-third of his life sitting here, but in this 21 st century who will take the print of a typewriter? So it seemed very hard for Paresh da to spend his livelihood. Many people suggested him to change his profession or try to learn computer so that he can at least meet his needs. But he didn't want to leave his father's business; according to him, it would dishonor his father's soul.

A few days later, he was seen to shift to the high court as someone said him that "there is still a demand of typist, even now". But the first day in the court was not favorable for Paresh da, the typists ran a union there so they will not tolerate any extra person to share placement in their business. They drove him out from the court premises and said him to give some donation of 5000 rupees so that they would allow him to seat there. Paresh da even didn’t have money to feed him two times daily how can he accommodate such donations, in spite of this he did not lose hope. He sat in front of the gate of the house opposite to the high court with his table and a broken chair with which he had tied an umbrella to save his machine from monsoon rain.

At last, after five days of anticipation, a customer came to Paresh da to print an affidavit application. He touched the flowers from temple to the machine and started typing, but just after the second line the typing impeded as the ink scattered on the page, the page stuck in the machine., maybe his broken umbrella wasn't enough to save the machine from the monsoon, the cartridge got damaged also. Paresh da became frustrated, he just couldn't tolerate this, and everything seems to be going against him. He came back to his house throw the machine on the floor. Maybe a tear drop was on the corner of his eye, no one has ever seen Paresh da crying, the tear drop was rolled down his cheeks like molten iron.

Paresh da found out his mother's bangles that his mother had given for his wife, he went to the jewelry shop for selling it, and an antique gold jewel has a high value. He could have bought a new typewriter now, but he couldn't leave his old friend, his father's last gift .He went to a restoration shop. The shopkeeper promised him to fix up the machine. After three days Paresh da got his machine back just as brand new, a new cartridge was fitted, all keys were replaced, the machine was oiled properly and colored. A bright smile was bloomed on his face. But perhaps the day of Paresh da's old friend had comes to an end. The problem increased after restoration, but he didn't lose hope on his machine.

In a busy week day a customer came to Paresh da to print an important court paper about his land. He was in so much hurry that he even didn’t check the papers after printing. In the afternoon when Paresh da was about to pack up his business, that customer came to him and punched in his face without saying a single word. Paresh da was unable to tolerate that impact; he toppled on the ground, his specs dropped from his eyes. The man shoved the table, the typewriter fell into a pothole. Paresh da had no power left in him; he couldn’t even lift himself up. He heard the man was objurgating in his name as he had mistaken a line in his court paper. After a long time how much he didn’t know he got up and felt an enormous pain in his head. He was grabbling for his specs, the glasses were cracked, and his vision became obscured. He felt he was all alone, he had no one to care for him and he was like the only person stagnant in the race of life.

He came back to his house, sat on the veranda, and mixed two opium tablets with his wine. Paresh da was celebrating his friend’s redemption, as he had sold his only family, his only providence, his only support just in the price of repealed iron. He had only repentance; he couldn't save his father's gift from disrespect. Maybe if he looked at sky that time he might see it’s covered with the dust of exaltation of 21 St Century.

This story is inspired from a bengali story 'Ajantrik' written by Subodh Ghosh which has also been filmed by legendary filmmaker.

No comments: