Author’s Note: There is no such English word as ‘Flast’. I made it on my own by combining the first letter of First and the word ‘last’ together.
Swagata is breathlessly brushing up the last few pages of his first and what may be fated to be his last novel as well. He knows this is his last chance, his last chance of having a go at staking a claim to his share of name and fame as a writer of great promise and vast potential. Outside the day is waning with the gloomy clouds ready for an outright outburst. His belief of making it big as an aspiring wordsmith was severely jolted when his novel was turned down earlier by not one but all the three publishers he had sent the manuscript to.
And did he not consider it to be his masterpiece?
In the dim 60-watts light of his room he makes a promise to himself, he will change the ending with a note of optimism and hope, and hope that the editors of Namita Publishers would fall for the story of a young struggling author, who wasted his life in the hope of making it big and making a difference if not in the lives of a million, at least in the lives of the people close to him.
As he tears off the last couple of pages of his hand-written draft, his hero, Joy, comes alive and kicking in his novel entitled "The Twists of Life". Swagata turns back to the Prologue and immerses himself in the hero, Joy’s act of walking along Park Street, a posh area in the central part of Kolkata…..
‘……………That was the day he was given the sack by his new employer 'Chhatrath & Choudhury', a chartered company. Joy worked there just for a day less than three months. He knew even before he was called down to the Boss's office. Sanjeebda, a senior accountant of the company, had told Joy earlier how these companies try to hoodwink their head offices in Mumbai by having more employees than required on their rolls. The company always made it a point to recruit novices like Joy especially before The Pujas. The sacked employees would never know about the bonus and all that was credited in their account! Like them, Joy wouldn't last that long!
Joy was a failure all his life. He wanted to be useful to others. As he reached the junction that turned to Camac Street on the left and crossed over, a paper back fell off the hands of an elderly man coming from the opposite end. Joy bent down to get hold of the packet and handed it back to the man. The man did not say ‘Thank you’ but gratitude was writ large on his face.
As Joy continued walking towards the Park Hotel, he continued reminiscing. Any hopes of finding a job related to Teaching, considered something of a family tradition, was dashed as soon as his ISC result was out. With a meagre 57 percent, there was not much chance of a bright future. He started applying to various places for a job. Every Wednesday he would go to the local library where the daily papers could be read for free and note down the advertisements that responded to his poor academic qualifications.
Joy never received a single offer from anywhere! He even tried applying to an agency looking for people desirous of taking acting as a career. He had heard it told on numerous occasions that he had the looks. His eldest sister, Protisha, who was a Professor, would always remind him not to be a makal fruit. He went, unknown to any other member of the family, to Minerva Studio, the best studio in the town with the 50-rupee-note tucked in his shirt pocket that he had saved from the money given by Ritesh Babu, his father, for the daily family marketing.
The frustrated looking young man at the counter of the studio told him he needed thirty rupees more for the postcard size photo. He had to wait for nearly a week before he could have the photo. He could have asked anyone for the extra money but he felt ashamed. Finally, when he looked at the postcard picture, he was stunned. The youth with his curly hair, silver rimmed glasses, his probing eyes staring contemptuously from behind them, the crisp moustache – looked like a famous Bengali actor in his hay days. Immensely pleased with the photo, Joy sent it to the agency at once with high hopes. He didn't even receive a confirmation note from the agency!
The best days of his Life were passing him by. Most of his school mates were now settled. He thought it best to keep his distance from them. Atanu was working as a lecturer. The rascal who only knew how to flirt with and tease girls hiding in the turnstiles of the stairways, away from the appreciative eyes of the other friends at college……………..’
Swagata runs his hand through his thinning curly hair. The story at the conclusion of chapter 16 is all about Joy's struggles and sacrifices. Yes, Joy became a hero to himself the day the three of them, that is, Deb, his cousin; their friend Piyush and Joy himself, made a frank proposal to Anu.
‘……………….Her full name was Anupriya. She was a beauty if there was ever any. She used to come for tuitions to his elder brother, Ronit, who, besides drawing from his steady salary as the Headmaster of the only boys’ school in their locality, was earning a fortune by running his own Coaching Centre on the ground floor of their residence. Anu, the shortened form of Anupriya, would often come up to the first floor on one excuse or the other. That’s how Joy and Anu became friends. Joy was in standard XII while she was appearing at the ICSE Board Examination. It was there in his room that the three of them, Joy, Deb and Pijush, made that proposal to Anu. They would be happy if she accepted anyone from amongst them as her ‘future partner’. All of them were good friends and Joy felt that Anu would fall for Deb, the smartest and sharpest of them, hook, line and sinker. During the whole episode, Anu kept quiet, looking rather sedate and saddened.
"Okay. If you want to think it over, take as much time as you want. We’re in no hurry but choose one of us you MUST…" Pijush cut in jovially.
They reached her home that night, though Joy and Anu kept quiet on the way back to her house at Gope Lane while Deb and Pijush fell behind and continued chatting. He received a call from Anu the next day while she was waiting outside the Metro at Rabindra Smarani. Immersed as Joy was in himself, he called Deb to ask him to go pick her up from there. His surprise therefore knew no bounds when Pijush rang him late into the night to talk about his affair that took off with Anu that very day! Pijush himself sounded surprised. Joy decided to stay out of the matter. All he wanted from the beginning was not to hurt anyone or break the hearts of the people close to him……’
Swagata continues to flip through the pages to the last chapter.
‘………………………It was the wedding of Pijush and Anu. Deb had smartly or cowardly left the city for a market survey. Joy, anyway, decided to attend the wedding reception within the complex of the church near Moulali. The auditorium was teaming with the invitees. As Joy made his way through the throngs to the dias, he saw Anu and Pijush standing side by side with some relatives with lights from the cameras flashing on them. Both of them looked lost despite all the apparent glee and gaiety. It was only on that night that Joy had the pangs of regrets. For the first time, realisation dawned on him that Anu had loved and chosen him from the beginning but she could not open up to him because of his lackadaisical attitude. He also realised, and not for the first time either, that what a great girl she was…………….’
Swagata picks up the torn pages. The story seems to have progressed quite smoothly till now. Why was it rejected thrice then? Was it because Joy remained a loner till the end, a vanquished do-gooder who couldn't even have scripted a happy ending to his own life story? Yes, this had to be the reason. No one loved a loner or a loser. No one cared a fig for the vanquished. This world already has enough do-gooders. This world is for the winners and now he knows what he has to do. He would pick Joy up from down in the drains and provide the twist of the story. Joy was too precious a gem to end in the gutters. He would give true meaning to the name – Joy, that is, happiness or pure bliss.
As Swagata gets busy trying to put pen back to paper, the door gets slammed shut. Flashes of lightning can be seen through the window, shattering the silence of the night. Next moment, the lights are out blanketing the dingy room into darkness. He puts his head up to find Anu, standing at the door like a statue, still as graceful and attractive as she always was. The shadowy figure of Anu in the stillness of the room bothers Swagata. Tanisha, their only child must be seriously ill, delirious. She has been suffering from a deadly attack of the flu for the last 4 days. How does he tell Anu about his dire state? Doesn't even have a hundred bucks in his purse! But she seems to know already. He gets up laboriously. His story lies untouched, unfinished on the table. As he tries to walk past the door; Anu with a blank yet passionate expression in her eyes puts her arms around him and breaks into an uncontrollable burst of sobbing.
Another flash of lightening accompanied by the stormy wind and thunder flashes through the open window, blowing the pages of his hand-written novel off the table and scattering the pages here and there. Some out of the window through the darkness of the narrow lane outside into the puddle that has formed below.
DoubleSpeak 