Drop Of Tear

                                          Drop Of Tear         

  Glimpses of my dream are being played in front of my dead eyes in this vicious time of lockdown,more of my mind than my body while I am sitting on the bank of the river that flows by my village. The images of the vegetables being sold in the market and that smiling face of mine while keeping the money in my pocket is being flashed in front of me and I am feeling like a member who has failed to join my team in a boat which has just sailed away only to come back in a future unknown. I don't know whether to feel happy because my life is saved due to lockdown or to be sad because of the breakdown of my crop.

 In either of the cases,I prefer to remain here, out of all the earthly worries and tensions to give myself sometime to rejuvenate myself for living my life forward.

The roots of the banyan tree I  sitting on are looking at me with a  questionable eye of what am I going to do next. To avoid them,when I looked towards the sky, I failed in that too. It seems that the gods of sky have abandoned me too and showed me their anger to me in form of the roots hanging from the tree and using the branches to prevent me from making eye contact to them.

The roots hanging from the tree were calling me towards them to join them on the branches of the tree.

     I gathered some of my left courage and walked towards my field after being sure of no police van present there for having a look of the leftover of the worms.

After watching the crop, from some corner of my eye a drop of some liquid came out flowing for a millionth time(I suppose) in the last 10 days like a rat comes out of it's hole everytime in search of it's food. I wept it and found out to be a drop of tear. I could see my crop through it and some more of it's kind joined the stream that flew through the cheeks of mine. The utter silence that followed gave me the goosebumps as a child gets in a dark night due to the sound of an awaken owl. Of course,I was frightened; not of me being dead but because of the death of my crop which I had nortured like a child of mine.

                      While walking back to my home from the field, the picture my old mother sitting in front of my house came to my mind. She had a hope of me coming back to her and sleeping in her lap for another time like I used to do in my childhood. I didn't do that thing for almost last 20 years.

                                

  I came out of my thoughtland when another villager met me on my way home. He joined to me to my home and somehow time just passed which didn't seem to pass when the thought of lockdown and the ending of this ruthless virus came to mind.

          I reached home and went to my mother.  I did the thing which I had not done in. years and that Godly hand of my mother was on my head, caressing it the same way as it used to do years before. The caressing of her put some hope in my body which was able to keep my mind and body alive for few more days. Still another never-ending wait is awaiting me; that is the taste of my mother's cooked food which never fails to give a new life to my mind and soul through my tongue.

                                                                                                                               By:Sangram Das