On the evening of a weekday, since Nirmay had forgotten to do it on the Sunday before, he had to clean the bookshelves in the hallway.
The book shelves held not only books but also photographs and other memorable things of the past, such as Nirmay’s grandfather’s alarm clock, the marriage photograph of Nirmay’s parents, a small doll that Nirmay’s daughter played with when she was small and the earthen pot which was also a money bank in which Nirmay used to put coins when he was small. Unlike other piggy banks earthen pot money banks don’t have an opening to get the money inside, you had to break it open to get the money.
But Nirmay did not break it, he rather decided to keep it, but while cleaning with the earbuds playing music in his ears realised the earthen pot was missing. Nirmay removed the earbuds with the realisation and then his feet felt something. The pot had fallen down and broken into pieces, which were all over the floor. The coins had spread in all directions.
Nirmay looked at the floor for a moment or two before realising a folder piece of paper present among the coin. He picked it up and opened it, and at once smile found his face. It was a letter; Nirmay recognised the writing was of his younger brother Vivek from the school days. But smile slowly faded as Nirmay realised what Vivek had written were all the reasons why he hated Nirmay.
At the base of all the hatred, the root was all the preference Nirmay got from everyone. Nirmay excelled academically and was good if not excellent in sports. With such traits people had presumed from very early on that he will be the one to lookout for as he grew which had led to a bit of neglect towards Vivek and there was also a period where Nirmay himself believed that he was the better brother.
Nirmay’s gaze lifted from the wall towards the wall between the wooden slabs of the shelves. Things were good. Nirmay and his brother were in good relation and everything had turned out well for everyone. Yet, somewhere in his heart Nirmay felt a sadness knowing his brother had felt this way about him and he wondered if Vivek still felt the same way somewhere within. Afterall one childhood is all we get as it is with the other phases of life. We tend to remember things whether we want it or not and sometimes they come out at the most unintended moment.
‘I will apologise on behalf of everyone,’ decided Nirmay as he folded the letter and kept it in his pocket, while he walked to get a bag and a dusting pan to collect what was on the floor.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Early Morning Memories 