A Teacher

Prashanna Dutta was a teacher by profession. He taught English to the students of Haripriya Vidya Niketan. He was an honest and humble man of few words, who never said 'no' to work. And that was the exact reason why he was exploited the most, by the school staff. If there was any work to be done, everyone in the school would push it to Prashanna. Not only his school staff, but his neighbours, his friends, his relatives, everyone kept trying to get their work done by him. Though Prashanna didn't mind being busy, this annoyed his wife greatly. His wife, Alpana, always kept saying,

'Why do you have to be so sincere and hard working,' as if being sincere and industrious were the worst qualities a man could possess.

Although in the context of present times, she was not entirely wrong. Prashanna, however, was of the opinion that sincerity and hard work always pay back in full. So, despite of the students' low attention to his classes, he kept teaching them sincerely; and he liked to do so.

When Vivan, a boy who's father got posted in the town, first attended the school at 5th standard, Prashanna felt that God had finally gifted him with an actual student. Vivan was the only student who paid attention to Prasanna's classes. He and Prashanna had more similarities than anyone could expect. They were like father and son; in fact, Prashanna did teach Vivan like he was his own son. When Vivan got to 8th standard his parents decided to hire Prashanna as a private tutor, as they could no longer give enough attention to their child's studies due to their busy work-schedule. Prashanna was more than happy to guide Vivan; and so, he accepted the proposal.

For Prashanna, it was like the aim of his life, to make Vivan a perfect child in every direction possible. He spent most of his time with the boy, teaching him and guiding him through all the problems of his academic life. But, back in his own home, Prashanna started to become an alien. The more time he gave to Vivan, the less time he had for his family, which was of course, obvious.

'Why don't you live in that Vivan's house, ha?' Alpana would say. She would keep sulking while having dinner with Prashanna at the dining table, just to make him ask her what had happened. But Prashanna, ignorant of his wife's desperate attempts to get his attention, would start praising Vivan's extraordinary intelligence. This daily exercise drove Alpana restless to the point, where she finally said,

'You should leave us and adopt that Vivan as your child. You'd be more happy with him than with us.' Saying this she pushed back her chair angrily and retreated into the kitchen. At that moment, Prasanna's ego got seriously hurt. He shouted at the top of his voice, 'Enough!' He threw the plate of food. Then he blurted out in a loud voice, 'In that boy, I've found a purpose in my life. But what would you understand about it? You're just a lost woman who doesn't even know what she's doing and for what exactly.' After that, he went to his study. But later when his blood cooled, he pondered over the matter. Alpana's rage was not entirely her fault; for the greater part, it was actually his own. He realized how little time he spent with his family. But, there was no way to leave Vivan now, was there? Just a year and Vivan would appear for his High School finals. Prashanna could certainly not leave Vivan during such a crucial time. Unknowingly, Prashanna was standing at a serious crossroad of his life. The next day, he went to Vivan's house with a heavy mind, but once he was busy with the boy, he forgot about all his worries and about his family.

Prashanna had a son, a year younger than Vivan. His name was Abhinandan. Abhinandan grew up, almost without the fatherly affection. For him, his father was just a man, who provided his family with the necessary money and had no other connection with the family. Abhinandan never talked to his father. The awkward silence between Abhinandan and Prashanna, became louder than ever. Abhinandan had no emotional bonding with the man that his father had become after the arrival of Vivan.

Prashanna taught Vivan extra for the finals. It was almost as if he came home only for the meals and sleep; the rest of the day, he spent with Vivan. Alpana's restlessness had long been faded away by then. Her husband had become more of a guest to her. She did her part without any complaint; she cooked food for him, pressed his shirts, made his bed almost mechanically, as if she was just a bai. 

Months went by like that, and then one day Vivan was not at the town anymore. He had gone to Guwahati for further studies and would not likely come to that small town again. Prashanna suddenly felt the loneliness that he had placed himself in. Having nothing much to do, he stayed at home all day long. But no one talked to him, as they were always busy at their respective tasks. His son, who would appear for the finals, didn't even get up from his table; his wife, she was always too engaged in work to talk. He took to the television, then. Days went by and he spent hours and hours surfing through  the same channels again and again, watching repeat telecasts of the same show for about five times in a day. His friends and colleagues didn't really wanted to talk to him, for they thought that Mr. Dutta was busy all day long with his chores. Without Vivan, Prasanna's life became unanimated. Nothing much happened to him for years. And then one day, after many years, he took his retirement from teaching. By then, Abhinandan was studying in Delhi, Vivan was in U.K.; his wife, Alpana, still stayed with him. Prashanna frequently called Vivan's parents to ask about Vivan. He had no direct connection to Vivan as he didn't pick up his phone. Actually he didn't pick anyone's phone unless it were his parents. He was too busy to spare valuable time to talk obvious things with people. Prashanna, though he was sad as he couldn't get in direct touch with Vivan anymore, actually was happy for Vivan. Many students with same intellect as him, came to Prashanna, after Vivan. But Prashanna didn't get too much attached to anyone of them.

Time kept flowing like a river; never looking back to anyone and neither stopping for anybody. The strong currents of the river of time took Prashanna and Alpana along with it, though they were reluctant to go. And so thirteen years later, Alpana had finally reached the ending; the sea. Before her last days, she was restless, confused about things, troubled with not being able to focus on anything and extremely weak and tired. She didn't want to eat or drink anything and kept coughing continuously. It was only then, when her husband noticed her illness. Before that, he ignored the other symptoms that Alpana showed. When, finally, Prashanna took her to the hospital, she was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer, which meant that she had less than a year to live. Abhinandan, who had, by then, established in Delhi, made arrangements to take his mother to Delhi. He paid her hospital bills and didn't let Prashanna pay for even the regular blood pressure tablets. Alpana was lucky that she had been diagnosed only in her last days. Had she been diagnosed earlier, in a curable stage, her son might've decided that her hospital bills were too costly. She died not so long after.

Alpana's death made Prashanna alone. For a month and a half, he stayed in his son's house in Delhi. After that, he realized that he had become a burden for the family, and so he decided to come back to Assam. At first, Abhinandan advised strongly against his father's decision, but later it seemed that he was only doing so, just to maintain a formality; when his father kept on insisting to go to Assam for a whole day, Abhinandan himself booked the tickets. Abhinandan went with his father, as sending him alone would make him look like a bad son. He helped Prashanna with a work or two and then left for Delhi again, leaving the retired schoolteacher alone in his home.

Prashanna didn't mind being alone as he was used to the ear-ringing silence. He just couldn't manage to do all the house-work alone. Once an idea of hiring a bai had entered in his mind. But later he dismissed the idea, as he realized that he would have to stay on the bai's tails to make her work properly. Eventually, he got the knack of managing the works. Moreover, he would stay busy for the whole day, performing his daily chores. In the evening, he would go out for a stroll in the market. He would bargain with grocers and buy fruits and vegetables at low prices and then would come back home with a jute bag; half-full with grocery. At night, he would sit in-front of the television, surfing through news channels, watching contradictory views of different newsmen over the same matters. Then he would enter the kitchen and prepare food, or heat the leftovers. He would have his fill and then, once every week, he would call his son and ask him about how things went. Usually the call was only received after three or four rings. Whenever Abhinandan picked up his father's phone, his introductory line was the same, 'I am busy deuta. Whatever you have to say, please be quick.' After talking with his son for about ten minutes, he would call Vivan. By the time Alpana died, Vivan was working for The Times of India. He was busier than Abhinandan. So, he didn't usually pick the phone up right away. But sometimes, he would call back and say, 'Dutta sir, are you well?'

This time-loop went on for three years from Alpana's death. Till then, no one came from anywhere to meet Prashanna. But then one day, his son called.

'I am going to Assam, deuta. I will get there on 6th April. Will there be any problem?'

'No, of course not! It's your home, beta. You can come whenever you want...' Prashanna replied, barely able to put a lid to his joy. It was already 4th April, so Abhinandan would be coming the day after the next day. Prashanna excitedly mopped the whole house the next day, and cleaned cobwebs from the corners of the house. He called an electrician and checked if the inverter was running well or not. The electrician also repaired the minor problems in the water heater. Prashanna opened trunks that had been closed for years and brought out old quilts. They were still not damaged and were perfectly usable. All this took away the next day. As dusk fell, Prashanna called the cable operator and added new Hindi and English channels to the pre-loaded plan. And finally he went to sleep. He was too tired to call anyone, that day.

Next day, at the crack of the dawn, Prashanna went to the fish-market and brought fresh catfish. On his way back home, he also brought mutton. Returning to his home, Prashanna suddenly felt a little difficulty in breathing. He placed the fish and the meat in the refrigerator and sat on the couch on the drawing room and tried to catch his breathe. But he couldn't. His breathes became shorter and shorter... until he couldn't inhale at all. He took his phone from the table in front of him and dialled his son. One ring... Two Ring... And then a computerized voice replied, 'The person you are calling is not answering any phone calls. Please try again later.' Prashanna clenched on to the pillow on the couch. His face was turning black. Vivan's name was on the speed dial list of Prasanna's call log. He tapped on it. One ring... Two ring... Three ring... Vivan picked the phone up.

'Hello, Dutta sir,' he said.

'I am dying,' Prashanna could barely get the words out of him. The phone fell from his hand and landed on the floor.
'Sir? Are you okay? Hello? Sir?' Vivan was not sure what he had just heard.

Prasanna's eyes opened wide. It looked as if they would pop out. His lips curled, baring his teeth. He became stiff. He trembled once... twice... thrice. Yellow coloured fluid dripped down from his mouth. And then it was over. His life seeped out of him and made him a hollow corpse.
The next day when Abhinandan arrived with the property papers that awaited his father's signature, he found in the drawing room sofa, what he had expected the least...

***