Nameless

This then is the last post in the first year of my blogging career. As always, it’s largely fictional yet says something that I would want to say, but for my poor articulation. Its been kept short and to the point. Readers of this blog are very few in number, but here’s wishing each of you a good year ahead. Let us all be better individuals, and let the world be a better place to live in.

Somewhere inside the ghettos of Calcutta, a broken lane filled with the stench and garbage of the city was home to a man and two street dogs. He had been there for many years, waking up everyday with the hope of seeing a new expression on the dogs’ faces. Perhaps the only real change to look forward to. The lane was filled with muck - his own, the dog’s and some street children’s. He had a dual-purpose bowl with him. Sometimes he’d go over to the nearest lunch canteen to pick up some rice and curry, perhaps the leftovers for the day. Other times he dipped the bowl in the nearby lake to wash it, then dry it by wiping it on his singular piece of body cloth and sit on the sidewalk hoping to fill it up with a few coins, at the pity of some of the more big hearted passer-bys. Tonight he noticed something different in the air. He was closer to the elements than most human beings, sometimes the elements being his only friends. The elements told him that tonight was different. Some firecrackers were set off in other parts of the city, and he could hear them. Some people were possibly celebrating. But for what?

He looked at the black dog. Nothing new about his expression. But everytime a cracker went off, the dog ran for cover. Very typical with dogs. And human beings like him. There were no passer-bys tonight, so he couldn’t really make sense of the time. Perhaps it would be wise to sleep the night off. But he was hungry, and he wanted to grab something to eat before calling it a night. But where else would he get food except inside the garbage bin. Some people threw unfinished bananas inside garbage bins. That was lunch for him when the canteen chose not to offer food.

Suddenly the dark skies lit up with fireworks. A majestic sight really. He was not so fortunate so see such things very often. But here he saw tails of light dancing in the skies, forming patterns like a kaleidoscope. Sometimes they’d make the shape of a star, sometimes they’d merge into a triangle. Sometimes they’d dance in circles, and circles would overlap and subsequently merge into bigger circles. The circus of the fire, he thought. They’d reach the highest point and do their little jig before falling back slowly to earth. In slow motion, nearly.

He wanted to jump in joy. He thanked God for this wonderful spectacle, this lovely gift for a pair of eyes that had seen very little of this kind.

Everywhere else in the city, the fireworks in the sky was accompanied by new years greetings, hugs, kisses and resolutions.

So to that friend of mine who wanted to jump like a child at the fire display – Happy New Year. Everyone deserves it, and so do you.