A story by S. Wazed Ali Q.C.
(Bengali) retold in English by Renuka Ray
I
used to live in a narrow street in Calcutta with my family. Opposite to our
house was a small grocery shop. An old man owned the shop which sold rice,
salt, oil, sugar etc. All day long the old man would serve customers in the
shop. Then at the end of the day he would retire to his living quarters for his
evening meal. I noticed that every day after about an hour he would reappear in
the shop and would proceed to read by the light of a lantern, the Mahabharat
and the Ramayana. Often I would hear him sing, “kasiram das kahe suna punyban”.
I finished my studies in Calcutta and then left for
England to read for the Bar. After many years I came back home. There were many
changes to our neighbourhood. As I walked about I suddenly heard a familiar
voice, “kasiram das kahe suna punyban”. I looked around. There was the same
grocery shop! And there through the window was the old man reading by the light of the lantern in the shop
window. I went over to the shop. I burst through the door and said to the old man, “nothing has changed here even
after all these years!”. It was then that I suddenly realised that it was not
the old man at all – the features were similar but the face was younger and less
lined. The man looked at me through his sad eyes, “12 years ago, my father
died. Since that day I have followed faithfully this same tradition.”
Later that night I thought to myself, “the years pass by,
even generations pass on, but nothing really changes.”
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