“Where
is the camera Keleng?” Psycho asked.
Keleng
remained unreacted, his head still moving up and down and fingers trying to
dance out the music of the song he was listening on the earphone.
“Just
open the headphone and speak up Keleng!!” I screamed at him to tear through his
ears which were still deeply engrossed in Akon’s number Angel.
Rajdeep
laughed looking at the headphone boy, “Still nothing .....!”
At
this Keleng became aware of the talk about him that we three were discussing.
He opened the thing, looked at everyone and exclaimed, “What?”
“Where
is my camera that I had kept under the hats besides you when you were sitting
on the lobby sofa?” I asked again, this time more specifically.
“It’s
not with me.”
“What
do you mean it’s not with you....?????”
“Yeah,
I said it’s not with me?”
I
was shocked, I didn’t believe him even for an inch. I smiled at him and patted
his back, “Don’t bluff now okay, you can’t fool me every time...haha.”
“I
can swear to the name of anything man, it’s not with me.” He sounded serious
and it pinched me inside. I still kept a smiley face and asked again, “Okay,
it’s not with you, and so where did you keep it?”
He
explained, “See, I was sitting on the sofa when you kept it there. I was
listening to my songs, and every now and then someone or the other came and
kept their things, and signalled me to watch them. How could I watch
everything? Suddenly I knew that I was going through a confused mind and
.........”
“And
now you don’t know where is the fucking camera. Is that what you are going to
say..? What a joke...!!!!!” I angered out with rage. I felt I was about to crash
his headphone to pieces and knock him down with a blow. How could he forget the
camera which had everything?
I
still had hopes. I pierced my hands inside my bag and strangled through
everything inside. It didn’t result any fruit expect the towels, inner wears,
jeans and t-shirts. Not only me but all four of us were doing the same search
in front of a few curiously staring night trespassers of Park Street. I was
tensed, worried and exhausted. Where
might be the camera? I thought. I took out my cell to see the time that
showed ten. I scrolled down the phonebook and dialled Paw.
“Where
are all of you? I have been waiting for such a long time.” Paw said, his voice
hardly revealed the camera situation.
“We
will be there, first tell me did I give you my camera?”
“Yeah
you gave me but you took it back again. Why?”
“I
have lost it. Please check if it’s inside your bag.”
“Okay.”
He hung up the call.
“Hey
did you say you kept it under the hats?” Psycho asked me trying to remember
something.
I
felt he found it. My words raced into his, “Yes, where is it?”
“Actually
I gave the hats to the girls, but I didn’t find it there.” He displeased me
again.
I
didn’t know what to do. No one seemed to know the value of the camera, not
monetarily but what I had collected during the trip was no less than an
unforgettable memory of my life. I had nothing in my mind except the camera. I
ran back with pace to the Assam House, the place where I had last seen it while
Keleng followed my speeding legs.
15
hours ago.........
“Wake
up sleepy head, you are not in your hostel bed.” A familiar voice disturbed my
sleeping thoughts.
I
opened my lazy eyes to see Psycho pulling away the blanket that covered my
body. The place was different. There was no billionare
baba poster on the wall, there was no breakfast near my bed that Kanchaa
used to deliver in the mornings, there were no LAN wires hanging in the window,
actually I was not even in my room. I realised that two consecutive lengthy
train journeys had certainly affected my mindset for a moment. I was in a lodge
of Bengal’s most famous tourist spot, DIGHA
BEACH.
Within
minutes we were prepared for the beach visit. We dressed in shorts, all set to
take a gracious bath in the Bay of Bengal.
I was excited, a first timer in a beach of course. And so were Keleng and
Psycho.
“Don’t
forget the camera.” Psycho said to me.
“Oh!
Nice of you to remember me.” I said and I took out the cannon digicam out of my
bag and hurried out of the room.
“A
packet of gold flake, Dada.” I treaded into a pan shop for the first smoke of
the day as we three strolled past the numerous shops and hotels that lined up
besides the busy road to the beach. The area was full of shops that had
uncountable varieties of conches, shells of the beach shaped into rings and
necklaces of all kinds, hats and sunglasses for anyone to look like a perfect
beach visitor, bags, mattresses, hotels that served the best of sea fishes and
prawns and what not. I bought a hat and sunglasses and so did the duo. But, one
single thing that really made me high was the sight of the beach beauty which
was lightly visible like an endless world far beyond. SNAP, I had a shot. Awesome, I said to myself. I lit one of
the cigarettes and puffed out, “Hey boys, let’s go!!!!!!!”
The
sun had just started to dazzle as we reached the shore of Bay of Bengal. I
detached the sandals from my feet and walked up to the sand to feel the beats
of the waves that licked my legs and let the brown sands stick all over them.
The scenery was indeed beautiful. The sea waters reflected even the slightly
noticeable rays of the sun that looked like glittering diamonds everywhere. And
the most amazing feeling was that the sea never seemed to cease, there was
water and only water all over, not a thing far beyond. I was nothing in
comparison to its massiveness. It was exactly the view I thought to be worth a
shot to add to my collection of the trip’s photos, and I did take it.
“Will
you like to try a drink, bhai?” a man who carried two tin buckets supported on
his shoulders by a wooden rod, asked me.
“What
is it?” I inquired.
“Fermented
khajoor!”
“Does
it make you high???”
“At
least try it boy, then say.”
“Okay
give me one.”
He
had two types of drink, one brown in colour which was directly juiced out from
the dates found near the shore, and one white which was the fermented version
of the first. I had the brown one first but couldn’t stop with only one glass,
I had three of them and another three of the fermented drink.
“That
was great, pure date juice of Bengal’s shore, umm.....” I exclaimed.
Not
only khajoor drinks, the shore was well filled with lots of things for the
visitors, a ride on a horse or a fuel powered sea boat, fried crabs and prawns
for a feast, coconut water and so on.
Far away I spotted a place full of coconut, date trees and a wonderful
casuarina groove over the white sands. I thought what a view it would be from
that place above.
“Hridoy!!!
Come here.....its great here....” someone was cheering at me from a distance. I
heard my name but couldn’t make out what exactly he was trying to say. I saw
that our whole group was there, dancing and playing with the waters and waves
and I waved at them with a smile. I turned to Keleng, “Let’s go there.” I said
pointing to the breezing trees. Keleng nodded. Psycho wasn’t there, he had
already rushed into the waters to join the guys.
“Hey,
it’s already one hundred fifty.” I said to Keleng as I saw the number of the
photos collected in my camera. It seemed that moments after every ten seconds
of our stay in the resort, had been marked. When sequence wise viewed, they
could tell you each and every story behind the scenes, be it the walk to our
lodge at night the day before, be it the late night cards with beer, be it the
walk towards the beach covering all the things we had bought and posed with
them or be it the ever ecstatic views of the great sea, in fact everything. I
smiled and thought, This will be a memory
for the years to come. But there were much more to come.
“Bhailog,
jaayengay kya border tak...?” a biker down at the end of the small hill of sand
shouted at us when we were busy searching for the best shots.
We
ran up to him. Keleng asked, “Border...???”
“Haan,
wahan pe Orissa ka border hain. Ek ka eksoh.”
We
readily agreed and in no time we were sitting on a CBZ which was rode by our
biker cum guide who introduced himself as Sushant Patnaik, a citizen of Orissa.
It was a great feeling to travel in a bike while the waves approached us but
only to hit the tires of the vehicle. I looked back to see the tire marks on
the sand, but they were constantly washed away. WHAATTA RIDE!!!
Fishes
and fishes, crabs and crabs, prawns and prawns, that was what the border
consisted of. I had never seen such varieties of aquatic creatures before.
Fishes of unbelievable shapes, flat, wide, fat, conical etc. and colours that
of the rainbow, crabs which I thought each one could be specified in a
different manner just amazed my mind.
“Ye
pakro to sahi.” Sushant forwarded a crab to me.
“Kaantegaa
kya?”
“Naa..naa.”
I
hesitated at first seeing the thorny limbs that seemed to me like it was
searching for anything to grasp, but finally held it up. I opened my mouth to
bring it near so as to pose for a fresh lively crab treat as Keleng snapped it
on the camera. Keleng did that too, for which I was the photographer. We
laughed out at the photos heartily. There were shots at the fishermen boats too
as we posed like the protagonists of sea adventure stories. Far away there was
an island, which our guide referred to as a place of utmost beauty and my
camera did the rest of the job. Overall, the border visit was fabulous and we
really had a hesitating return back to the main beach.
“Agli
baar aaye to girlfriend bhi leke ana.
Main sab intejaam kar doongaa.” Sushant advised us as we got down from
the bike to pay him.
“Jaroor.”
We said with a blushful laugh and captured his smile to bid him goodbye.
We
joined the remaining girls and boys of our group to find them photographed by
an old beach photographer. He saw us and immediately persuaded me, “Aap dono
bhi leejiye.”
“Nahin,
mere paas ye hain.” I replied showing him my digicam.
We
had lunch at a beach hotel with tasty Pom fish and fried prawn. It was sad we
were going to leave the place after a short period of time. We had a bus at
three thirty and had to do the packing soon.
“Smile
please!!” Moon da yelled as we posed for a group photo in front of our lodge, with
the cowboy hats on our heads and the luggage on our side, and he added another
click to my camera’s collection. We all waited for any kind of vehicle to take
us to the bus stand. Soon, some typical Digha cycle rickshaws arrived and we
mastered our place onto them. The rickshaws were different than our native
ones, they had no cushion seats and no chaatas
but an open aired big wooden plate for the customers to sit.
Our
hearts streamed with joy as the rickshaw driver played an old Hindi song on his
old fashioned musical system. It was perfect for a goodbye video to Digha.
Psycho took my camera and started off for it. We cheered as we went past the
shops, hotels and the beach people all around, while Kishore’s voice in the
number Jaanu Meri Jaan, Main tere Qurbaan....
rang all around us. We danced with joy. What
a goodbye to this amazing place!!!??? Bye Digha.......Wish I were always here.
Nearly
two hours of a boring bus journey had passed but, still Keleng was dozing off besides
me. My sleeplessness during bus and train travel had always made me suffer. I
switched on the cannon to see our snaps of the place just for passing the lengthy
and tedious time. Each photo had a certain story behind it and they again took
me to where I had returned from. The smiles on our faces, the heftiness of the
sea, the flying poses all around, every single click revealed to me what I have
never found before. They showed how even a half day in a place like that can
mitigate all the monotony and dullness of the daily core of our lives we spent
regularly. There were no assignment like approaches, no frustrations for
incomplete courses, no running for clearance cases, nothing at all, only joy
all around the two hundred fifty two photos and the last touch video.
“Your
photos have made me jealous.” Paw said to me as we got off the bus in Park
Street. His statement carried me to the extreme height of self-esteem. I raised
my collar and replied with a proudly smile, “Depends on who clicks them.”
-----------
I
searched, searched and searched, starting from the sofa to the floors, wall
corners to the dustbins, reception table to the first floor canteen, nearby
shops to the garden, everywhere but only to result in vain. Not even in my
wildest dreams had I dreamt of such a loss, a loss not of money but, a loss of
my memories associated with it, a loss of my existence in a heavenly place, a
loss for which I would forever cry.
“The
girls called, they don’t have it.” Rajdeep murmured with a disappointing tone.
“Same
with the boys too.” Anuraag added to my disdain.
The
last hope was Paw. I dialled him once again hoping for what would be the
greatest joy of my life.
“Sorry
bey...naai mur bagot.” I heard him and there was I standing with a what-to-do
mind.
“Keleng
please try to remember again.” I pleaded to him.
“The
answer will still be the same.” He regretted.
“BULLSHIT!!!!!!!
I didn’t go to Digha at all.” I cried aloud.
Cards and beer were ready as usual in our
new lodge, but the only lively unusual thing was our minds. Despite everything,
we started for our games and drinks while regretful discussion blew all over
the room.
“I
will miss the video.” Rajdeep said almost killing himself.
Keleng
roared, “Our poses!!! All gone.”
“Don’t
worry, the other cameras have some of your photos.” Hrishi tried to sound with
a consoling way to me.
I
didn’t have any expression to anything going on. There might be a lot of my
photos in other cameras, but I knew that those would be feeling less when
compared to the ones I had captured with mine. I still felt that someone had
found it and was dialling my number, so my cell phone was going to ring soon.
“Shit,
shit, SHIT!!!!! Digha is washed out.” Psycho yelled with anger and frustration.
I
sipped in the beer and said to him, “You know Psychs........I need to write
soon.”
