It was a windy day. The Sun was quite merciful hence there was barely any trace of its heat in the wind. My eyes fell on the dry leaves around, Autumn had arrived. A gust of wind scattered a pile of leaves and carried some of them away. As I followed the direction the wind took them, my eyes fell upon a now abandoned house… Mr Binay’s house.
The big metal gates of the house had a lock on which has been devoid of a human touch for quite some time now. Through the metal bars of the gate my eyes fell on something in the lawn… abandoned and broken, something which had been a prized possession once. Mr Binay’s rocking chair.
The rocking chair was very much symbolic to the presence of Mr Binay in the house. His fondness of it knew no bounds. The chair used to be in the long balcony next to Mr Binay’s study room. The structure of chair had accustomed itself to Mr Binay sitting on it. There he spent countless hours reading books, enjoying tea, talking to guests and family and sometimes just lost in a thought or two.
“It was my grandfather’s; a while after my grandfather passed away, I found it in a state of ruin and others thought it was better disposed of. But I repaired it back to life, now I sit on it every day. I wonder do I look just as my grandfather used to when someone sees me sitting on it.” He had told me one evening many years back, adjusting his specs over his eyes and smiling at me. I was a child back then and small enough to not understand the significance of that chair in his life that he wanted me to know.
Mr Binay had passed away few years back; I was not in town. His children had moved abroad with the rest of the family, I hadn’t been around the house since then till now.
The rocking chair was left out in the lawn to the mercy of the weather. Couldn’t they have been a bit more considerate about how they left it, I wondered. As I turned towards the direction I had to move on towards, I recalled the image of Mr Binay sitting on the rocking chair, and turning back towards me and smiling. I think now, that is exactly how his grandfather must have looked.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Early Morning Memories 