October 18. Coffee shop. His loneliness and feeling of catastrophe. And then it happened. All of a sudden the door of the coffee shop flung open with a tinkling of the door bell. Many came in and went out, but nothing stirred him from his brooding until now. Until now he didn’t feel the gasp of air that came by with the person approaching. Until now he didn’t feel that there could be someone for him. What they say these days, “one soul two bodies!”

He felt that “she must be it’. The better half. The other part of the soul, who has come to complete him. Nobody noticed him except our li’l hero here.  The feeling of “soul mate” came all of a sudden out of blue. It was for the first time he was feeling such sentiments, such emotions. He could imagine now what those lovelorn fellas felt. He could ponder over the feeling that made those couples do silly things for each other.

It was his chance now. His Luck made him come this far, made him meet her. Sigh. Luck.

Suddenly his thoughts drifted apart from his love to the reason of his fiasco. His debacle.

It was his fate his luck his inefficiency led to his constant. No it wasn’t his inefficiency. He worked very hard, but he was not rewarded. That was not his fault! It was his fate’s his luck’s! He worked real hard rather harder than many of his co workers. But they were paid a lump sum amount and he was discredited for the faults he wasn’t responsible for. People took advantage of his muteness.

People knew that he won’t be able to protest against the injustice. The bigotry chauvinism shown towards him made him feel claustrophobic within himself. He made everybody responsible for his condition. He made his parents liable for his muteness. His boss and so called colleagues accountable for the prejudice they held and for his talents go in vain. He made God answerable for his Fate and Luck.

He was more talented than any other working with him and above. Nobody expressed their feelings through the perspective of the viewer. As a writer he was thriving in bringing every emotion through his plays, through his writings, his mime acting. Yet the credit goes to someone else. He is not the one whose interviews are aired. To the prejudice filled boss, a mute “assistant writer” can be the face of their theatre firm. They “run a business not a charity”.

He tried evolving, flourishing. He tried enduring. He was left collapsed.

This egoistic, self interested world has taken the better of him and left him to die on the road. He has no one to look up to. No godfather. No God.

Ah! But now he sees a hope of believe through her eyes. She is a destitute like he. He feels rejuvenated seeing her. There’s a desperation working inside him to win her. He must know what see feels of him. And then her eyes met his. A chain of chemical reaction worked inside him. A stream of current passed in the bounds of him.

The store owner came by and shooed away his little princess. A little mongrel. Our hero here came to her rescue, expressed in his sign a language it’s his! And the soul who went apart while landing the earth meets again. Luck. Some may call.

That sweet lil’ princess showed him the path. They both were incapable of speaking the colloquial tongue. But the feelings they felt were genuine which made them love each other even more. They did not belong to this mean egocentric world. The mongrel made him realize that if you have talent and will to hold that, no matter how people treat you or even leave you on road, you can carry on with your journey. ON THE ROAD. Life’s a journey. ON THR ROAD. So gear up my friend. Get ON THE ROAD. People leave you to die here. Show them ROAD is not people die. Its where they start a new journey and a new inception. Of dreams and life. ON THE ROAD.

Irabati.