On a good day, the terrace of the house was where Vikram liked to be, but only if the conditions were favourable.
Favourable referred to multiple factors, the primary being Vikram having a holiday that day from the office, then it had to be good weather and of course the most important, he felt fit and fine that day. I can say from personal experience that good health is the most important to enjoy any part of life.
Vikram had started working two months back. His mother, Mrs Tiwari was worried maybe he had started too early, maybe there was some more growth required before he set out into the professional world, but his father assured that it was just a phase, a phase of understanding the compromise with the attachment with home, family and friends. Sacrifices are part of life and too many times we make it knowingly or unknowingly in our lifetime.
This was the perfect day for Vikram who had come across a holiday on a day which carried good weather in its bag. He sat quietly on the terrace and started sketching. In front of his house was a big park, green with well-trimmed grass, plants with flowers and many small forms of life.
With the park as a consistent subject in many of the sketches that he had made, Vikram captured the activities that took place in the park, with children playing different games, some young adults walking while talking on their phones, the aged sitting on the bench and reminiscing about their lives they had led, the regular birds searching for food or material for their nests and the occasional street dogs who would come running excitedly and enjoy their time playing in the park.
It was not just realities that the sketches captured, they also captured fiction, like the magical tree which grew gifts and was seen by only a few chosen children. Vikram had drawn it as a school student and he also drew the man who flew down from the sky in the middle of the night to enjoy his time in the peace and darkness of the park, he would disappear if felt or found anyone near.
Vikram observed the park and found the children playing cricket ‘again’. It is one of the most popular and commonly played sports here but Vikram had many sketches of children playing cricket, any more than it would become an entire collection on its own.
Just as Vikram was thinking and looking at the sky where the clouds had effectively covered much of the Sun, he heard a sound. The sound of his neighbour Mr Sen rushing out of his house in his shorts, undershirts and also small sized slippers which looked like he had worn off his wife in a hurry.
Vikram looked down the terrace and saw Mr Sen picking up the ball near his car. So, it happened again. When the children played cricket, the one batting would stand in a position facing Vikram’s row of houses on one of the park’s longer ends, thus the ball would very often come to this side, sometimes hitting the walls of the house or even getting inside. The problem arose on holidays when the cars which were otherwise driven to offices, were parked in front of the houses and Mr Sen worried his new expensive car might get damaged and tried to stop the children from playing on different occasions. But there is no winning over children.
Mr Sen stood with a frustrated expression, with the ball in his hand and he looked at at least once at all the children who stood in fear and didn’t move.
Mr Sen spoke in a loud and angry voice, “try taking the ball from me now” and he walked inside with the ball, almost losing balance once due to the small size of the slippers he was wearing, unaware of the fact that he had been added to Viram’s sketch who had sneakily taken his photograph for the purpose.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Early Morning Memories 