Once the village Molla said , “ Eid is the largest festival of Muslims. It is equally blissful and pleasant for everyone”. Raju was there too. He listened. He thought to himself was eid really a joyful experience for all?
Today is the day of Eid. Raju was sleeping under a bridge. There was no hurry in his actions. He starts observing. The people, their new clothes, joyous faces. Raju doesn’t have those. His worn out pants, oversized torn shirt, rough and flaky skin, rustic hair make him seem like a withered flower in a pool of fresh roses . He stands and starts walking. Underneath his calm face his mind was bustling. The memories of the past were flashing before his eyes creating an unnatural sense of numbness.
Raju once had a home. A small, quiet home near the Meghna. His father was a boatman. He remembers how he used to spend hours on the boat. The waves violently shook the boat. The figure of his father standing tall at the edge of the boat against those waves. It has been ages since he felt that secure and protected. He recalls his mother running behind him across the shore with food to feed him. Her long dark hair waved by the wind. He also had a sister. He tries to remember her face everyday but the vision stays blurred. He just remembers a hand clutching his hand and running after they stole mangoes from their neighbour’s tree. A hand gently putting a soaked cloth on his forehead when he had fever.
3 years ago Meghna took his home along with his sister and father in river erosion. His mother, a new widow, driven from the loss of her husband and daughter decided to leave the village forever. Just like that Raju came to Dhaka with his mother on a train, without a ticket. Perhaps this was a reason the city never accepted them. Within 6 months his mother died from Cholera leaving a 7 year old Raju to fetch alone.
Today Raju has decided to walk through the city and see how the city built on cement and rust celebrates eid where thousands of dreams are buried under rubbles of reality. He notices a family of four. Just like his own family. They are dressed nicely and are busy celebrating. Raju tries to smile like them but his reflection on the roadside glass wall doesn't seem polished enough . He stops staring and continues walking.
Raju’s family was poor. They didn’t get new clothes or elaborate dinners but Eid was peaceful. His joy was a simple boat ride or visiting a village fair on his father’s shoulder. Why did fate have to snatch something so simple from him? In his imagination Meghna isn’t a river, it is a vile, unsightly demon that took everything from him.
What time is it , maybe afternoon who knows? Raju rests near a field. It is packed with people. Some chatting, some laughing. Raju spots a dog amid the crowd. Hunger and thirst clear in its eyes. No one notices it, just like Raju.
Today Raju finally found the answer. Eid isn’t for everyone.
The questions remain silent. Raju continues to walk.
