Enchanting to pensive in a flash

Chinmay Kumar Hota

It was my first day in our new house at the farthest corner of the town. The house nestled so snugly at the edge of the forest, one could not tell where the forest ended and the compound of the house began. I woke up in the morning, caressed by the tender touch of the winter sun. The scene outside was dreamlike. The lush-green foliage of the majestic trees looked resplendent in the morning sun. 

When the evening came, the forest exuded a different kind of charm. The sounds of birds, crickets and other creatures of the night provided a magical backdrop to the scene. The sound of distant rolling drums made the experience enchanting. The change of our dwelling was necessitated by the untimely death of my father, and we could not have asked for a better setting to soothe our pain.

After the passing of winter, the trees looked even more serene. The sharp chill which kept me indoors in the winter mornings, gave way to pleasant spring air, prodding me to set out on a long walk on the winding road that flanked the forest. As I walked, I suddenly noticed that the road that stretched ahead was totally empty. Why was no one out on such a beautiful day, I asked myself.  

The next moment, I saw someone at a distance, slowly emerging out of the forest. He limped in spite of holding a stout bamboo stick. When we came face to face, the person stopped in his track and greeted me with a grin. Soon, others came out of the woods: men and women, some seated on their wheelchairs pushed by companions, and others on their feet, struggling with their walking sticks and crutches. They had not expected someone from the town to walk to the forlorn part of the forest, their world. They all greeted me politely and smiled, as I nervously looked at their blistered faces and bandaged limbs. Each one of them was a victim of the same ghastly affliction that ate into their bodies. It was inside the forest that they lived, sequestered from public gaze, in a community home that I could make out behind the trees from a distance. 

After the exchange of smiles it was a silent parting of ways, the onlookers trying to make sense of my visit while I was pensive about their suffering. I returned home with a prayer for their well-being and comfort. I may not tread that path again, afraid to come face to face with more misery.

That evening, I gazed at the forest in the fading daylight from my window, as the sun set and an ambitious moon announced its arrival. The whole vista took on a different look, bereft of its soothing charm, for I knew that lurking somewhere inside was the excruciating agony of the hapless beings I had accidentally met in the morning.