Dusk - Sudiptaa Bhattacharya The sky, Change its form. I sit alone, On a roof by norm. Just as a ritual, As they fly casual. They are the birds, That passed, bidding adieu, To the day.
A December midnight, last suburban train, after a few stations I am all alone in the coach. A very young boy of Sixteen, Seventeen years gets into the train. I am surprised and asked where he was going, he smiled. The boy was dressed in a black and blue woolen sweater with formal pants, sitting just opposite to me. Suddenly, after a few moments of silence the boy asked where am I going and I answered that I am going back home. Like this our conversation started. It was tremendously cold outside. The boy was going to his grandmother, who was ill. My station arrived. The boy was also getting down in the same station. His name was John. We got down at Dehra, and the station was without a soul in that cold night of December. We were searching for a cab and suddenly I found myself alone and John was missing. Immediately I found my briefcase was also missing, inside it I had my clothes, as I was coming back from my aunt’s house and there was also a diamond ring, that my aunt gifted to m...