Monday, June 30, 2008

Bristi

Bristi...a dream in a name...Don’t remember where did I first meet her...may be outside the window in the very early ages of childhood...may be in a radio program I have long forgotten. "Bristi" means rain in Bengoli and Assamese.Don’t know how many lengths of song I spent searching the cause behind the irregistible pull towards her...how many lengths of cigarettes stretching the hands through narrow grills of the window… feeling the touch of the wintry little drops of rain tutoring my sensation.....


I could never resist her invariant calm approach . I could visualize her invading me from very far, sometimes while coming back from school , sometimes while playing football and sometimes when I stood by river side. Might be desire of getting mild gentle touch prevented me from searching a safe place to hide...A drenched smile always used to pass through the core everytime she painted her color on me......


I expected Brishti on that day. I was leaving home to join the college far away from home .But there were no sign of her ! I thought that she would appear anytime but she left with a gloomy dark face . Later someone told me... it was my very own close ones who had pleaded her reverently to stay away...they wished , i could have a safe passage....

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Finally got the tickets confirmed in Tatkal, “ Mama I am coming home!!!”

The Delhi Railway station was wet, sound of heavy drops of water could travel miles entering through my cellphone...

“is it raining there??????” asked Sis..

“Yes ... but why???Could u see Bristi around ?”.

“Jone,Have u gone crazy again...Who is Bristi?? Will u ever tell me dear!”

How can I tell you sis...” Bristi”...it is my favourite name...love in a dream...a dream in a name.

Courtesy: Jone bhai and his love for Bristi