In Hinduism, our life has been divided into four stages – Brahmacharya (student life), Grihastha (life of a householder), Vanaprastha (retired life) and Sannyasa (renunciation).
My name is Subimal Dutta, a retired WBCS officer. I am now in the third stage of my life, Vanapratha. I am an old man who retired from his services five years ago. My whole working life was spent in a big air-conditioned floor, as big as a football ground. I was a WBCS officer who enjoyed a lot of luxury, authority and responsibilities. I had a beautiful bungalow provided by the government in a very posh area of the city. My wife left me two years ago for her eternal journey without any heir for my property and savings. After retirement, I didn’t want to be among the hussle and bustle of the city and thus I left it behind and came here, a lonely beach in the Eastern Ghats to live amidst nature just after a year of my retirement.
Here the vast ocean is in the east, and I view it every day whenever I come to my veranda. The ocean is my only friend now who listens to my joys and sorrows, my thoughts, my imaginations and I talk non-stop to the ocean in my solitude. The ocean and sky that meet the horizon fills my hollow mind with colours of the dawn and dusk. During my lonely walks along the sea beach in the mornings and evenings during the sun rise and the sun sets fill my heart with joy. I can observe the fleeting thoughts, the uncertainties of life, that the sands of the beach hold for us until the waves wash them away to make a new impression for a new day while sitting in my garden under the resting hut.
The resting hut along the shore of the ocean remember me about my wife, who once comforted me, held my hand during the ups and downs of our journey together, when she was alive. Whenever I come here to sit for a moment, it takes me down the memory lane where I can share my emptiness with my beloved wife and I felt her presence near me. We could share our joys and sorrows with the mighty ocean. Our unfulfilled desire to be parents, to see our children grow, laugh, cry, run and then when they grow young and us becoming older, our worries about their future, prosperity and health, all those put under the carpet pop out while sitting in the resting hut watching the sky turn a dusky pink and then darkness creeps in.
The Champak tree, set in north-eastern corner of the garden, filled with white flowers are my aspiration to have children in my life. Whenever I come near the tree, bend down to lift up the flowers scattered on the grass, their bright colours, soft touch and gentle sweet odour fills my heart with hundred new hopes as if they are the messages of my beloved from heaven. They are the gentle touch of those tiny hands who never came to our lives. I have installed a big steel swing towards the southern side my garden amidst flowery bushes of jasmine and tube roses. When it rains, the sound of the water dropping on the swing makes a lovely sound that I love to hear as if the unborn children were playing and having fun.
Beside the champak tree, is a sweet-water pool with lilies. Whenever I pass by here, the crystal-clear water and above it the bright lilies remind me about my parents who left me on their eternal journey long ago, their good values and positive thoughts implanted by them, those were my life long assets, their kindness, love and good wishes still encompass me even today.
A series of coconut trees along the northern and southern walls of my garden, not too tall but with plenty of coconuts around the year, are the fruits of my hard work, sincerity and dedication to my duties till my last day in the office.
Along the northern wall is a small green kitchen garden where my self-reliance grows while, scattered here and there are small colourful patches of seasonal flowers, my friends who joined and left me in different stages of my life.
Amidst my garden, I am happy in my solitude. The fencing made of rocks and wooden planks all around are the barriers to keep out the previous life from the present one where I am living my retired existence.
Written by- @Spondon Ganguli