Letters from Boston by Kuntal Sen: SNOWFALL,FROZEN BUTTERFLY,LOVE….A BEAUTIFUL DISASTER!!!
Hello everyone,
Regards, love and other appropriate feelings!
Usha aunty, your words of appreciation have fueled me enough to take up the pen once again- so be ready for another tedious one! And don’t you worry- I speak to Maa every day. She has taken up some incredible international call plan that lets her keep me bugged throughout the day! But somehow, the joy of writing a letter is unparalleled….some people feel the art of writing long agreeable letters is particularly feminine.But somehow challenges enthrall me….like this one ….being creative and sensitive without estrogen!
My life here has been flowing smoothly and unhindered like a river…which is ironical because Charles,the river of Boston is almost solid at this time of the year and not flowing at all. His beauty is surreal….I and my friend ,Sachin were standing by his bank the other day….Sachin is a mastermind in photography and kept himself hidden behind his lenses to capture the daunting skyline….but I found myself hypnotized….stunned into silence….rivers have something about themselves that plunge me into the dungeon of philosophy! Subernarekha, Ganges, Ichhamati , Godavari- all the rivers that have flown through my life have somehow filled up different voids in their own ways. Somehow the idea of a male river was unacceptable to me till I saw Charles- magnificent, sensitive, thoughtful, sure of his sexuality yet not uncomfortable to venture into a female-dominated territory- just like me!!!
We embarked on a demanding journey of the Freedom Trail- the celebrated 2.5 miles in downtown Boston, marked with many historic monuments- each telling a different story of a glorious past. Yes I do call 2.5 miles “demanding” – not because I am sissy; but because the brumal minus four degree air pisses of your lungs and they refuse to inflate!! The Granary Burying Ground in particular etched an indelible impression on my mind .There were hundreds of corpses- rich and poor, men and women, old and young, kind and mean, straight and gay-all lying adjacent to each other ; waiting for the forces of decomposition to eat their remaining molecules away! Somehow it reminded me that Life is a beautiful lie that differentiates amongst us, whereas Death is an ugly truth that doesn’t!( Sachin please accept that you got panicky and wanted to flee while I had this spiritual epiphany.) The Old North Church was one of the many other stops on the Trail- we halted and prayed to the Lord to give us the strength to learn from everything and grow. The warmth was so soothing that it almost felt like being back in the womb of my mother.
After completing this taxing journey on wobbly legs, I came home and slept like Princess Sleeping Beauty. The beams of Sun which otherwise kiss me awake were unexpectedly late the next morning. I woke up by myself and my eyesight led me to the skylight on my roof….my jaw fell….my throat choked…..there was a thick layer of impeccable white snow there !I sprang out of my bed, threw my quilt aside and peeked outside the window….it was a peek into the paradise….it was like Madam Nature had decided to walk the ramp for a masterfully designed white-themed fashion show. Rooftops, car tops, conifers, pavements….everything that the eyes could fall upon…as long as my perimetric vision ran…..all that I could see was a flawless shawl of ice!I wanted to venture out and Jimmy,( G’s caretaker and a good friend of mine), was generous enough to lend me his Yellow Bean Boots. It felt like somehow by some stroke of luck I had been transported straight to Indralok- the land of limitless beauty.There were fewer people on the streets. I went to a pharmacy and took the much-awaited flu shot. I had a heart-warming chat in Bangla with the Bangladeshi pharmacist. She told me “gorom thakun, bhalo thakun” ( “Stay warm, Stay blessed”).Then I decided to pamper myself with a glass of hot chocolate and a footlong sub- tasted like ambrosia!
The walk back home gave me a lot of endorphine release- the ice tried its best to stick to my boots and hold me back, but somehow I hauled my way past it- overcoming all the backward pull. My granddad’s words kept ringing in my ears- “Wherever your steps shall fall, the roads shall form by themselves for you.”
Still wondering why the bizarre title for the mail??? Well it was because of something I was about to witness!!!
As I was about to unlock the door to our house and step back inside, I saw something that beguiles any sort of description or thinking- an extremely pretty butterfly was frozen to death as it sat on a flower( a rare one that blooms only in winter); trying to complete the duty of pollination allotted to it. The flower looked disdainful and ungrateful….absolutely not something worth dying for! But the butterfly was dead….its wings had been captured in the shackles of the snow…there was no way I could bring it back to life and scold it for doing something so stupid!Then I realized the butterfly was not doing any duty …..it was simply in love with that flower….yes that useless heartless expressionless grey flower….but once in love, you transcend all logic and reasoning…..even if if the person you are in love with doesn’t deserve it….even if it leads you to your grave! LOVE IS A BEAUTIFUL DISASTER!
It stopped snowing for a while ….as if the entire creation was paying homage to this butterfly….the epitome of love and sacrifice….but then it started again….because the snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches!!!
I MISS YOU MY USELESS UNGRATEFUL GREY FLOWER!!!!
Need your hugs- it’s cold in here!!!
— Dr. Kuntal Sen
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