Translated from Bangla by Mouni Bhattacharya
The morning air seemed very soft and refreshing to him. The whole city was still asleep. Or people were simply drowning in the euphoria of slumber. But what happiness was he carrying back with him? He might ask this question to himself. He didn’t even expect to get the answer. Why didn’t he? It was quite unknown to him. He always had confidence on himself to imbibe any sorrow, no matter how intense. Sometimes a human conquers himself just to hold up all his defeats. Right now he was feeling the same; this revelation might be best fitted in his case. Looking around the closed doors, departmental stores and houses he realized, the city had deserted him long before.
He got the rickshaw at the hotel gate. Perhaps they regularly came here at this time to pick up passengers for the early morning train. The train will leave at six forty. But fifteen minutes before six o’clock, he showed the key at the reception and came out. He was standing. The hotel bill was settled at night. And at that moment, a flash of soft sweet air surrounded him. It’s the very first time he realized that the inside of him is heated. A complete emptiness was just expanding inside him. This emptiness was beyond his senses, as if it had no identity, no final advancement. The thought just swirled in his mind. It no longer became clear with a particular shape.
As soon as he came out of the door of the hotel, the rickshaw puller saw him from a distance and approached him with his empty rickshaw. The middle-aged man looked at him eagerly. His eyes and face were still covered with traces of sleep. He himself didn’t get much sleep that night. He spent the night in a state of sleep and awakening. Even in such a state, though, he really fell asleep at the end. But that sleep was not long at all. He woke up at five am when the hotel boy knocked on the door. Before turning the light on and going to think about anything, he just lit the first cigarette of the day. He never does that. He had not developed the habit of smoking a cigarette before having at least one cup of tea in the morning. But the habit didn’t draw him back then. He opened the door and asked the boy to give him tea and two buttered toasts. Then he went to the bathroom and washed his hands and face. He enjoyed splashing water in his face and eyes. This was not something significant; however, he did that randomly just because he didn’t know what to do to face the storm of life that wants to make him so twisted. He quickly finished his meal when the tea and toast were placed on an empty tray. But there was no need to hurry, even though he knew this, the restlessness in his mind was only driving him away. The station was not far from this hotel. But he wanted to get out.
And just then, at that very moment, Trina’s face appeared again in front of his eyes. “What is Trina doing at the moment? Is she asleep? Is she engrossed in a calm, undisturbed sleep? Ah!” His body was slightly raised; he put his hand on the edge of the table and managed himself. He even scolded himself a little. So there was a nature evident in him to rule himself. He was not the kind of person to throw himself around in too much open exuberance and reckless gaiety. Rather, among many people, he becomes a depressed person. At least he himself thinks like this.
His mouth tasted unpalatable. This is probably due to smoking many cigarettes throughout the day and until almost midnight. The body was also much wearied. He feels as if he was thirsty inside. But now sitting in a rickshaw, he liked to sink into the open air around him. He himself could not deny that a storm had passed over his mind for the past three days. These sudden arrivals of Trina, and the unexpected encounters which were more sudden, at times seem to him only like a few moments of a man’s dream journey. How can a man have the cruel courage to stand firm in all these eventualities?
As the rickshaw nears City College, he takes a look around. Almost the entire area has changed slightly. Many things seemed entirely new to him, though all that’s old had not entirely been demolished. Near the market, he saw the giant building of Bipani Bitan. In front of his eyes, the shops inside the building, the unfinished sketches—everything became clear at once. For how long had he not entered inside this? Seven years, eight years, or more than that?
He is unable to do the exact calculation. But there were a few years in his life when he used to walk here two or three times a day just out of habit. At this moment he remembered— seventeen years ago, that meeting with Trina in the second floor of the market before her going abroad to her husband. That too was unfixed and unpredictable. Despite seeing Trina from afar, he accepted the all-consuming agony of avoiding her as she came closer. But Trina did not let it happen. Trina was standing right in front of him. She didn’t say anything. She just beheld his eyes. So after many abrupt incidents Trina remains the same. His heart was severely aching; he was collapsing inside himself just like a broken glass. But still, how enormously he went on trying to keep himself settled and unmoved outside!
Sometimes people want to hide their true selves just like this. It is not only the intention to present the self to the outside world in another form, but also a kind of intrinsic pride. He looked at Trina, saw her—tried to understand her, as if a woman could be understood in this way. Isn’t it a matter of laughter?
Coming in front of the bookstore, he brought up the matter of Trina’s departure after a day, and after hearing Trina’s quick reply, he looked at Trina with a scrutinizing look once more. But do people’s eyes really carry the reflection of the mind? Trina said, “The one who is going is someone else, not me.”
He did not speak further. At first he thought to this answer—mystery only surrounds women. So if you think carefully, you can understand that such words can be interpreted in different ways. But this explanation came to him later, much later when Trina only lived intermittently in his memory. And at that moment he felt it his duty to characterize Trina’s reply as somewhat of a mockery towards a defeated opponent. However, he could never reconcile the fact that Trina went home to look for him the next day. But if you think properly about it, when all the facts put together, it seemed to him that man holds within himself a kind of perspective forever, which he can never actually escape.
This way to the station had changed a lot. He had seen this change many times while visiting this city. Yet it was a little more visible in the shadow of this free dawn. Paved buildings replaced the shanty shops. The question still came to mind again, hadn’t Trina changed also? It was somewhat difficult to place today’s very Trina with the Trina of seventeen years ago. Yet he could not fully understand the mystery. It might be a fact that Trina wants to check her intension once again. This might be a test of her self-discipline due to her long stay abroad. After giving it a deep thought, a meaning of this behavior of Trina can be roughly recovered.
After the marriage, when Trina remained in the city for about a year, he could easily detect a conscious tendency on his part to push Trina into nonexistence. In spite of the excruciating pain of fighting with his own self, he could strictly put aside the idea of surrendering to the weakness of the unmanliness. So if Trina, after so long, brings up the question of growing her own passion in the shadow and ashes of that man, it is only Trina’s concern and no one else’s. He himself was startled by such a thought. The idea is certainly selfish. He then pushed all the thoughts from his mind and started looking at the closed shops on both sides. Fruit peels, scraps of paper, twisted straw inside pieces of fruit were littered along the roadside. A couple of dogs were tugging at something near a dustbin. They were screaming from time to time. With that scream, the deep silence of the morning was breaking into pieces.
The crows came down to the streets. Somewhere in the streets they were nibbling in a group. A couple of people were standing or walking with sleepy eyes. Sometimes a couple of cars or taxis were running towards the station. The reason tea shops were opened in the meantime might be that it’s the station road. The huge griddle was up on the coal stove in front of the shop. The hot paratha will be fried. Two or four people were also found inside. He felt extremely tired. Helpless and exhausted too, because nothing in life was in his hands anymore. But was that why he was not happy with his life? He was happy indeed. His family, his life, his days were passing in the midst of all this. Trina was sometimes remembered, but only sometimes, as a cold touch of sadness. He knew that human life was like this. But if he found Trina, would his life be different? The answer to this, he felt very deeply, he did not know.
About three months after Trina left, he too left the city for Dhaka, giving up his college job. Surprisingly, almost unexpectedly, he got a job in Dhaka. At that time, Trina’s friend, after hearing the news of his moving to Dhaka, gave a crooked smile and told him, “You are also leaving this place because Trina will not be here anymore?” The truth is, he never thought about it the way Trina’s friend was saying. But many times, when introspected, he felt that maybe subconsciously he wanted that. So, people sometimes get what they want! He smiled to himself. That happened almost seventeen years ago – but nowhere had it faded that much.
He reached the station and saw that the train had halted on the cargo platform. But people had not come yet. There were only a few people scattered all over the platform. In these intercity trains, people do not come so early because the seats are assigned. When he reached the gate, he saw that the compartment where his ticket was located was almost opposite the gate. He looked ahead—the door was still locked. He stood in the empty space on the north side of the gate. If he stood here, he could easily find his partner. He looked around hoping to find someone he knew. No, there wasn’t anyone. He lit a cigarette. And then he remembered that he had not given a thought of smoking a cigarette. This was a natural reflex pattern. Even if he didn’t want to, he was doing the thoughtless work like a puppet on the faucet. Are people really the slave of habit? However, this too is like a chain to the humankind!
He wanted to play with this idea. Maybe this is how you can place an opponent and engage in a conversation with him. And just then he saw—yes, someone like Trina coming slowly from the north side of the platform looking around. He trembled. Trina? No—not Trina, maybe someone else. As the person slowly approached, he could clearly see—yes, surely it was Trina! He couldn’t believe his eyes. So early in the morning? He stood still, as if forgetting to breathe. He stood, did not move forward, didn’t even try to catch her attention. He just kept crumbling inside him.
Just then Trina saw him. But she didn’t turn restless. Her walking speed did not improve. In a very dignified manner Trina kept coming towards him. Only her eyes fixed on him, in his eyes. The grassy sari was flying a little in the light breeze. He felt as if Trina was walking in infinite glory like an empress. A whirlwind only began to shake inside his chest like the rolling wind of Chaitra. But desperation consumed him before that.
He did not move from his place. After coming closer, he saw that she was not as she seemed from a distance, rather somewhat unsophisticated. She might have come out in a hurry. He felt that she had not combed her hair even. Untidy, she is wearing a simple silk sari. Perhaps he did not even think of changing the sari. After her coming very close, a sweet aroma came from Trina’s whole body and surrounded him. It’s hard to understand the turmoil inside Trina unless you see it up close. Or could anyone else understand?
Coming very close, before almost getting closer, Trina softly smiled and looked at him.
“Are you surprised?”
“What do you think? Can I expect you—here, now?” Trina looked away. She saw distant people, the stationary train standing on the platform, and then slowly raised her face to him.
“Well, I couldn’t hold myself back.” Trina smiled a little.
Last night I just thought what if I would never see you again in my life! Baba was taking a morning walk. I said, “I will go too.”
Then, at this moment Trina appeared to be very careless to him. He didn’t know what he should do. What will he say to Trina? He had nothing to say. Still he said-
“I thought about that too. But what is the use of seeing again? The pain will increase only.”
“Do you suffer? Do you really feel sorrow for me?”
“What do you think?”
“Talking about me?” Trina fixed her eyes on him. “I think you never think about me. You have forgotten me perhaps. You want to forget me.”
He smiled like a helpless man.
“No, that’s not right. I have not forgotten you. Maybe I can’t forget even if I try. But I didn’t even try. If you’re really forgettable, I’ll forget you. There is no need to try.”
After speaking he looked at Trina. Trina seemed to have become a little serious. Was Trina hurt by his words? The number of people coming to the platform was increasing slowly. As they were standing very close to the gate, people sometimes caught a glimpse of the two of them. Trina was on his left side. This time she came right in the front. Trina was thinking something. Then she raised her face up at the end and said:
“You are the same as before. So cruel, ruthless. I must say it. I feel it.”
His companion had not yet arrived. Sometimes he looked at the gate. He was startled by Trina’s words. Then there is still the matter of swinging passion of love inside him. Then he said:
“Please, don’t take it otherwise. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Trina—I love you. I know—I’ll never forget you. But…”
Trina stopped him.
“What if you don’t go today?”
“No, no. I have a lot of work. Besides, what will happen if I don’t go today? The suffering will only increase, nothing more.”
Trina did not reply to this. She raised her eyes once and looked for someone. Then she pulled the dangling thread over the front of the neck and placed it gently on the left shoulder. A couple of clumps of unsettled hair came down, occasionally blowing in the wind. Trina looks completely different in such a simple decoration. He was looking at Trina. But was he really looking at Trina? This exterior of Trina, the Trina that everyone else on the platform could see—was there anything significant he can observe? He wanted to realize another Trina inside her, wanted to feel the world of her thoughts. But was it really possible? Man is so helpless and limited. He keeps on defeating himself every moment. He feels his instability. He shuddered as he felt the irresistible pull of Trina’s attraction.
Then he saw his companion standing on the platform. He did not try to attract her attention. The compartment doors were now open. People were getting into the train after matching the ticket numbers. They were packing the luggage. The crowd was growing all around. His partner did not notice this way. She was heading straight to the compartment. Maybe she will see them after getting on the train. Will she be surprised to see Trina? He didn’t know.
He looked at the vast round clock on the platform. There were still 15 to 16 minutes left for the train to leave. After a long time Trina said:
“You haven’t changed really. Never leave it when you get a chance to hurt.”
“Sorry, Trina and I didn’t mean to say that. Nothing in my life goes my way anymore.”
Trina smiled slightly at his words. It didn’t reflect on Trina’s two big eyes but she smiled. Was he wrong? Or, did he see Trina with the pain and sadness of his heart? Among so many people around him, he watches Trina only. This is the Trina. Long before, he was introduced to this Trina in his early youth days. That Trina never changes. She remains steadfast in the mind. He couldn’t understand all the time but it didn’t make her a false entity.
“What are you thinking?”
He came back to himself with Trina’s words. He looked at the clock again. It was not too late to leave the train. He said:
“Nothing. Bye, I have to go.”
“Going? Can’t you stay? I wish to stay with you all day today.”
Trina’s voice sounded helpless. Was it really helpless? Or is this just his own thoughts? His sight was kept steady in the eyes of Trina. He kept it, as if he wanted to find something. Then he smiled a very small silent pale smile.
Trina walked alongside him. There was no inertia, no hesitation in Trina—as if this was her daily habit. Approaching the door of the train, he looked at Trina. He wanted to say—see you again. But he did not remain unaware that nothing was said. Her partner had spotted Trina by then. Surprise and question filled her eyes. He returned to the door, placing the light shoulder bag on the empty seat next to his companion. The train swayed. Trina stood a little far away. Suddenly he felt that he could still get off the train without hesitation. Yet he kept himself still like a heavy, lifeless stone. “Trina, this is our life,” he simply uttered. But to whom he said this? He saw Trina standing a little far away. At the last minute, someone pushed him to get up in a hurry. He still stood there, losing his balance. The train swayed.
The train’s acute and sharp whistle blew for a long time. The sound of the metal door echoed around. The platform moved slowly. Trina was still standing. Gradually he can no longer see Trina distinctly. She was mingled in the midst of many people and lost from his sight. And that’s when he remembered—he might never meet Trina again in life. From yesterday to today—up to this point—the entire time seemed to be captured to him only in the frame of a dream, only a memory—nothing else. His heart trembled and he only realized that he was a poor, helpless man. Secluded. No one can understand him. Can he understand himself?
Subrata Barua : Fictionist in Bangla Literature
Mouni Bhattacharya is Lecturer in the Department of English, Sylhet International University, Sylhet
Illustration : Satabdi Zahid
