The Year

January New year resolutions are still fresh in the mind…The wind blows hard, the fog covers the city landscape. The blanket, coffee mugs, buds of the cigar, the mood of sleepiness, tangles together, the month of January.Music, literature, food, around the city, dressed in colorful attire, the lovebirds kisses, hands tied to feel the warmth…When will the winter end?Questions the street boy. He shivers, he tries to sleep, the pipe placed at the construction site.t’s Republic Day, the farmer's rallies to the Red Fort, the flag of protest hoisted. The young boy, wakes up, to the sound of ‘Jana Gana Mana’walks to the traffic signal, with Indian flags, Rupees Twenty per flag.

February The pipe is laid out under the soil, the young boy walks around the city. Looking for a new home. He gets a cleaning job at a road side eatery, the small shop gives him a night's sleep. The cold is gone, blankets, are no more required. There is mistiness in the morning. A group of boys plays football, in the field opposite to the eatery. The young boy wakes up early, crosses the road, sits behind the goalpost…Waiting for the ball to cross the line, he runs to bring the ball back to play. In the evening he sees the lovebirds, they walk past the eatery, dressed in traditional attire. They have enjoyed the evening winds, stops, and stare around. He prepares a cup of tea.

March  A child is born, of the couple. She cries out, beneath the bridge. The rickshaw is parked beside the Jhupri. Raju stares at the eyes of his newborn. The tree gets its first leaf, spring brings in new life. The young boy has had his salary, he counts, ten hundred rupee notes, he counts again as he thinks. What to purchase for whom? He walks, in deep thought. Stops at the sports shop…The football, the sports shoes. He wears a shoe for the first time. Runs along the road, waiting for the next morning.

April Heat intensifies, the day gets longer. Morning walkers come to the eatery, for a fresh morning breakfast…The young boy doesn’t get a break. The football ground beckons him. He wants to run, run in the fields, the football, and the shoe, lay at the corner of the shop…The lovebirds are not seen anymore. Are they still moving around, searching for a new story? searching for a new tea shop? searching for a new lane to hold the hand. Or, have they shifted to some other town?

May Raju paddles, day in and day out, bring, in food for the mother. He searches for a new shelter, a small rented one, in a nearby slum. The rains are nearing, he needs a place for the newborn, the roads will be flooded. He paddles, he perspires, the skeleton is visible. The mother stands in the queue, to fetch a bucket of water. The young boy has run away. Away from the roadside eatery.Looking for a new destination, a new green canvas, friends, and a new goalpost. He sleeps outside the football club. Cleaning the utensils of the tea shop. Lesser notes at the end of the month. So be it, but a glimmer of hope. He sits at the back of the goalpost. Waiting for the ball to pass the sidelines…His shoe and the ball, kept beneath the trolley. He stares at the stars, the night pass by as he tries to sleep, on the trolley.

.JuneThe raindrops fall on the city lanes…Dark clouds hover around the city skies.The wheels of the rickshaw are underwater. Raju and his family have taken shelter, in the high rise, getting constructed…He is yet to find a shelter in the slums. Maybe the high rise will save him in these rains…The muddy fields, stay vacant. The footballers have taken a break, they stay indoors, workout in the gyms. The rains have given him a break from work, there are no customers in the tea stall..He takes out his boot and the football…He fills the air in the football. He runs to the muddy field…He is alone, he runs with the ball, from one goalpost to the other.Imitating the moves that he has seen, for the last few months…Few others were seeing him from far behind. He signals them to join the field…He is wet as are his shoes. There is a long queue, the tap water flows out, he gets himself cleaned off the dirt..puts his ball and the shoe beneath the trolley…waits for a new day, as rain continues to hit the city floors. 

July  It’s raining cats and dogs.The roads are inundated. Life is locked in rooms.Raju waits for the clouds to clear, takes his rickshaw out to the streets. His daughter is running fevers, for few days, doctors at the hospital have seen her, given her few medicines. The fever does not subside much. The worrying faces, stays awake, throughout the night…The young boy, looks out to the field…It’s filled with water. The drenched group of crow jumps around the puddle..The clock seems to stop, as it rains and rains…The shop is closed..No one enters the club...The verandah of the club, remained open for shelter…There are few more families, staying with the young boy…He sleeps, with his boot and ball, kept at one side. 

August It’s a sunny afternoon, the field has dried up, few days of sunshine..some clouds hover around, with no intensity…The boys come to the field…There is a shortage of playing XI.the young boy is called to the field..‘Do you want to play, Bikash’? asked the coach. He jumps to the field…wearing his boot, tying the shoelaces……..He runs, with the ball, off the ball…This is the time he waited for. He has run in a marathon, for the street children and the orphans. He has run for months…Here he runs again with the ball, off the ball…Trying to get close to the goalpost, and not crossing it.

September A small room in the slum.Raju’s wife sits at one corner, looking at the ventilator, and the world beyond…She holds the woolen sweater, she had made for her princess. She puts it on her face, getting the smell of her’s, getting the touch, she misses…She looks at the door, a little hand will peep in. Sunlight and the shadow, will touch her……Raju opens the door, with a creaking sound…Bikash is now playing regularly, the coach has stopped him, from working at the tea stall. He stays with the coach, helping him at his different works..playing, football full-time…He is selected for the second division league…The coach buys him a pair of shoes.

October A long walk through the streets, the lovebirds are back. Seating at the tea stall, near the club. The boy looked at Bikash, Bikash looked at him. The girl has changed. They walk along the tramline...Bikash juggles the ball with one foot.It’s festival time.The streets are overcrowded, everyday road, looked so unknown…The children play in the slum, Raju’s wife looks at them. The beats of the Dhak is audible, a girl puts vermillion, on the girl's forehead and face…Someone, cries out,‘asche bochor abar hobe’

November Bikash wins the cup for his team.He has been the player of the tournament. Bikash cuts the media article, and makes his own scrapbook…He has pasted some of his photographs, he, has now some photographer friends….Raju has purchased an auto-rickshaw, he is earning much more than rickshaw days. Raju’s wife has started working as a maid. She loves the house..There is life beyond life in the house. There is football, energy, inspiration, there is standing tall after the loss, there is a road, beyond the border.

December Everyone is glued to the TV set, The coach jumps on the sofa, Bikash is selected in the Aryans team. Raju’s wife tells the coach,‘I am pregnant’.The lovebirds walk along the road, Sit at the roadside tea stall. They have married a few days back….The temperature goes down, Raju's wife starts knitting a new sweater.