This is not a so called story or review of book or app, a real painful life sketch.
My family was not a big one, only four members were there in my family, my father, mother, elder brother and me. My father was an office staff in a small merchant company. His salary was very meagre so our life was most simple and had no high aspiration. According to socio-economic parameter we were poor family. My elder brother luckily got job in department of post & telegraphy. We were living in the Kolkata city. The home was rented one. My mother was an ordinary house wife, most simple and kind hearted woman. I was adment typed from childhood and usually I differ anything if it is seen unlogical.
A piece of land
My parent came in Kolkata from Dhaka in the year 1946 and in the year 1947 two nations were borned cutting a single nation, India to India and Pakistan. Then Dhaka which is now the capital city of Bangladesh was under Pakistan and the name was East Pakistan. In that period many people migrated from that land to Indian land in absolute penniless condition as being refugee. What a struggle period those days hope anyone can realise to witness the present Syrian refugees. New land, new people, new language and overall no income, no roof over head. Luckily my father got a job in a private bank and got posted at Ghatsila in then Bihar state. We two brothers were not born then. The house in where my parent were residing at Ghatsila as a tenant nearby the workplace, my mother had to stay solitary up to deep evening until my father return from office. There was a postmortem room in that building and unfortunately that room was adjacent to the room of my parent. When I was 7-8 years old my mother told me that story also told me she was feeling scary whole day until my father did not come back from the office. In the year 1949 my parent settled in Kolkata. Before my birth my father had purchased a piece of land nearby Kolkata city having plan to construct our own residence
The things do not go as what people think
In the year 1988 one evening my cousin brother suddenly came our residence after a long year. He was serving in Indian army. He told that he retires few days ago in the discussion of that day. After various talk he then disclosed his intention of his visit, he proposed my father, uncle you come at our place I will help you to buy a house at cheap rate. Surprisingly my father nodded and admitted his proposal. But my mother and I both had strong objection, we did not want to leave the city and had no interest of living in a suburb small town.
Tug of war
The conflict, argument was going on, my father and my elder brother was one side, me and my mother was opposite side. Now the question had arose that where from the money will come to purchase a house. My father approached several times to the Rehabilitation department even to the president of India of granting financial aid to construct own home in the own land, but once sanctioned only 18,000 rupees. That was insufficient fund so refused. Now, my father and elder brother got easy solution of fund to sell the land.
In the year 1989 the land was sold and after the day of laxmi puja they did leave the rented house in Kolkata and went to the cousin brother’s place. I strongly opposed the entire decision and stayed in Kolkata in friend’s house. My mother was weeping but on that point I was helpless and felt reckless. Absence of mind I felt I will loose my mother.
The black year in my life. One morning a man met me and informed me that I should meet my father immediately because he is ill. Then no mobile phone, I had programme to visit a factory on the way with my friend. I confirmed that man who is close neighbour of my parent that I will go. Visiting the factory caught a local train and reached at the house where my parent was living. Asked what happened. My mother told that father has fever and last day he did fall down. Understood it was cardiac attack. Searching a doctor from 3 pm to 7 pm, the hospital is 20 km away, did not get any car or ambulance and at 7:10 pm he died in front of my eye without doctor without any treatment. Informed my elder brother via radiogram, he was then 700 km away in his work place. Cremation had completed on that night. Mother was shattered, I had no word –
The last and least
I was trying then madly if I get a small flat in Kolkata in my known locality where my parent we had passed over 33 years. But cannot get yes no flat – all were filled. My mother wanted to live with me after father’s demise. Contacted with many real estate brokers at last one had assured that after October he could provide me a small flat in my budget. One day I went and meet my mother and informed her the news and told that I will come again and will stay with her in durga puja. I had verbally talked with local tour operator to tour at puri with mother. I was confirmed that from November mother will live with me. My elder brother was then start living with mother after father’s death.
The evening just two days ahead of durga puja, my elder brother met me and told the world’s saddest news that our mother is no more