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That Extra S - Mile …. Partha Pratim Majumder
After the whole day, the large Gift Shop on Park Street was about to close, at eight thirty sharp, when I entered it straight from Airport. The man at the counter had to put a fatigued welcome smile at me, as I was receiving the token against the deposit of my huge and bizarre luggage, which was set to occupy the entire space at the entrance.
So, I went for fast pick up of one Harry Potter, and an Old Classic of Jules Verne, apart from a Birthday Card. I reached home by ten at Jodhpur Park . By then, Bobby was well in slumber.
Once again, I failed to keep my family commitment.
At first, my wife was stiff in exposing her reaction. Her face was a citadel of agony and frustration, that I could not miss. The birthday decoration around ,looked at me sarcastically .
The cake was half eaten. Few cut pieces were stored for the absent guests like me. The paper caps and lanterns kept on hanging here & there loosely. A deep sigh came out of her to say , another birthday was celebrated in my absence.
The gift pack was put by the side of my son other than a small dry kiss on his forehead . The face of the child ,however , could not give a hint that he was also disappointed. That night, at dinner , my wife at last burst in like an erupting volcano .”What is this going on, Tapan ? What this is all about ?” She retorted. “Do you ever show any responsibility to us ? Do you ever understand a child’s psychology at all ? Do you think that you have finished to live with us ? “
While I was showered with so many “Do You”s , I , revocably tried to put my those old argument of what and how I was forced to do. So many compulsions and pressures at work place and above all, those certainly destined some uncertain and unpredictable situations.
“ Look , I am extremely sorry , T had a very tiring day . Entire things were all upsetting for me. I was planing to come last evening Ticket was booked accordingly alongwith the Special Officer of Court, , who flew with me to Chennai for a special assignment. He fell sick with ....” She sounded wild , “ How can you easily make up stories ? Can you remember what was your last story reasoning your delay from Mumbai ? Probably not.“
“Don’t misunderstand me . Please...it is not true. I can not leave a sick man....” She intercepted by raising her finger the way an umpire would go for signalling the end of a batsman’s innings. “ Stop. It’s enough. Not a single word any more. I am tired of it. “
I did not give up. “ No. You have to listen, I don’t understand your intolerant attitude. This is quite normal with others also. This may happen to anybody at any time. “
I took a breath and candidly put up an example to disprove her argument. “ Do you know about Mrs. Mukherjee’s incident? Being wife of Finance Director of our company, she had to bear loneliness and trauma with her broken leg for a whole week in the company flat at Alipore, as her only son was studying in Bangalore and hubby in Delhi awaiting a meeting with concerned Minister after appointment was fixed. She had no support other than a cook and a servant. If she can , why can’t you ? “
She had vacated the room , before I finished citing my example.
Nobody tried to understand each other’s problems as usual. Dinners were hardly eaten. I was in a fatigue of the whole day since last night . But , I was ridiculed to say that it was my conspiracy proved once again to arrive at the resolution that for last two years I had been keeping myself busy in everything except in family affairs. The dialogue could indicate that it was the child , who was under suffering. Being mother, Kasturi could not tolerate all that.
She stormed in to the room once again and rolled out her well made warning , “ Please note that I personally do’nt care. It is all for the child we brought to earth. That boy must not suffer. I warn you. “ I was dumb founded under feminine warning. Then I thought of the fact that our dispute over the apple could take us to the sky but the apple of the discord remained on the table. My explanation was smartly refuted with counter charges. But everything must have a limit. So, I countered resolutely.
“ Please , don’t try to frighten me by your threatening.” ,
Thereafter, a riot of words only we were productive of . The night hour was robbed of the silence till the child with divine face sat awake with his broken dream. Kasturi stopped first to take up the duty of arranging another bout of sleep for the child as I had a lone smoking session at the balcony looking at the stars that had been blinking the way they used to do in the skyline above Marina Beach in Chennai even last evening.
Next day, it was Bobby who made me awake. The child with a scruffy look after a full length slumber came to me to tell how bad he missed to receive the gift from his Papa before his friends, present before Special Birthday cake. “ I get the books and card this morning. Why didn’t you wake me up after your arrival ?“ He enquired . Without waiting for my reply, he ran to dining table to fetch a piece of cake on a dish and poured into my mouth.
“Eat it , Papa, this is my Birthday Cake .“ As I was finding it difficult to swallow the mouthful of the cake, soon my facial expression turned out quite funny. He broke into a giggle saying ”you look like Charlie Chaplin , papa !! “
Dear Bobby, I must confess and apologize. The executives like me travel two very different worlds. For the betterment of the companies they work , this class of people are always on the run. They even sometimes do not have control over their own world. They stand nowhere, but they fly. In all executive training programs, the experts, are often vocal to register the doctrine of motivation of running that extra mile to give the desired edge over the competitors in survival strategy and achieving the set goals. To reach that unprecedented success milestone. They put up so many examples, so many success stories , so much of mathematical calculations, usage of so much of jargons and management terms, only to solidify their contentions and conclusions.
And in the natural yield of intellectual input on regular basis, the executive-turned student is to run ...... that extra mile. Once, you would be elder enough, son, you should understand it , while running , or flying ............ like me. I wish if you know how much I also suffer as you suffer too.
Bobby was before me as I opened the zip of the baggage. I handed over his favourite tiny items like sachet of butter, jelly, cheese, candy, sauce etc. as usual after every flight .
A child gets optimum pleasure in those small wonders. His bright eyes are glued to those trifles , which often we see fallen on floor of the plane under the seats .
His soft palms are full , eyes sparkle , lips flutter to say , “ Do you know .Papa ! In our school, a village boy has got admission on transfer. Sukhiram Srivastava. From Allahabad. We call him Sukhia. He has no idea of eating food in aeroplane. I told him that my father flies like a kite. I promised to show him food served in the small packs after you arrive. So, today , he will be surprised to see what he has never seen .“
“So, you think , son, the passengers in flight take so huge food , eh ! “
Now , this is my bout of laughter , giving piercing way to shatter the gloom of last night imbroglio ,when his mother also joins in laughter, overhearing the joke from kitchen. The fresh morning has started on becoming fresher on the face value as the boy of innocence looks on.
READER'S REVIEWS (3) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"I can't say this enough...you have a wonderful gift iin developing characters...this story worked because the the conflict of those characters. The husband and wife shows their disdain and utter confusion and the sweet son in the morning after gentle like the morning itself spreading peace throughout the house...the usage of words in this story help relay the turmoil of the night and the clam of the day...the think the title should reflect the conflict instead of the effort but that's up to you. This is another work of art!" -- e. rocco caldwell.
"The storyline has a smooth run. Sweet finish. Impeccable style of storytelling and building characters. Good." -- Ron Martin, California, USA.
"Quality prose. I like it. " -- David , USA.
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