Neighbour

For months I have no contact with Dibya. I know he is always short of times. He is a nice young guy and I like him greatly. Occasionally after a long silence, he appears. I wait for him. He is a beautiful guitarist and he has no time to break the schedule. Moreover, he is the skilled artist of pencil drawing and sketching too. He is even very free in watercolour drawing also. He is out and out an artist. I saw his beautiful sketches which he has drawn while he was waiting in the airport or while travelling to the next place where he is scheduled to perform, he creates drawing on his notebook that is so innovative that even a seat of the flight may be a subject of a unique pencil drawing. His smiling face and eyes beaming energy and curiosity attract me greatly.

If he is free and has time to spare -he knocks me. He shares the nice or odd experiences with me freely. His nice way of talking I enjoy greatly.

Last week I got a sudden call from him as he uses to do. He informed, in the evening he would be free and like to visit me. I bought the pie for him he likes most and his favourite brand of tea too. He takes tea frequently in a day.

In the evening he came. I hugged him warmly.
-Good evening uncle. I brought the cigar you like most.

Yes, he though scolds me for this bad habit of mine, yet he presents good branded cigars occasionally. And every time he warns me and asks me to promise not to continue the bad habit further. He talked a bit then he took the guitar from the stand which I have kept as a memory of my desire to play on this nice instrument that gives me a great pleasure. But I’m not a musician at all so I failed to progress and at this old age I never try or think to be a nice player. So I like to spare time by listening to nice guitar music especially flamenco music of the great masters like Paco de Lucia, Grisha Goryachev, Amrik and others. I listen to the orchestration of Yanni, Paul Mauriat, which Dibya knows very well. He started playing some of the nice numbers I like most. The drawing room became full of resonance of great tunes and both of us were gliding in the ecstasy of great tunes. Dibya, God bless you. I silently prayed. What a nice playing! I murmured.

But I noticed Dibya somewhat out of mood today. Suddenly he stopped playing and wiping his face he asked
– Could you say who is responsible for our existence?
I was not at all prepared for such an out of the track question or comments. I stumbled. Then replied
-Obviously –God the creator of the universe.
–Is it? Then why so much distress, poverty, war and killings of men, hostility among nations? He again raised a question.
-What’s happened, my dear son? I was curious to know what is going on in his mind.
-You see billions and trillions of money are being spent to make warheads. And it’s a great business, most profitable business indeed. The politicians are the supreme who decide how and when to shower the fire of death by any pretext. They separate the peoples as per their whims, they raise hatred among neighbouring nations so that they can sell their weapons and make millions and millions of money out of it -he breathed for a while.
-What made you so emotional?
– I’m just returning from States. You know throughout the year I’m to travel to many cities and towns to stage programmes. But seldom get any chance to visit the places I go to perform. Last week when we finished this month schedule we got some time before we start at the airport. We the three fellow musicians decided to visit a nearby departmental store to buy something as a gift for our family and friends. We saw by the Google Map that a store was very nearest to us which was maximum five minutes on foot. And we decided to go on foot to relax. After a few minutes’ walks, we saw a lone store. We entered there. But we became disheartened seeing that different type of smoking items only was available there. We were talking among us in our mother tongue. My other two friends love smoking so they chose some cigarettes for them and I then remembered you and took a pack of your favourite cigar. The man who was over the counter was noticing us I followed. He looks like an Indian. I asked – are you Indian? The man replied –once upon a time. Now I’m of your neighbouring country- an enemy too. I have settled in Pakistan after the great partition.
-Sorry, I said.
-That doesn’t matter. But the fact is that the peoples of both the countries are shattered now. We the common people though dislike and hate the environment of hostility but we are the pawns to the politicians. In the name of religion and patriotism we always are ready to strike each other with the falchion. They grow rage and hatred in our mind. Sometimes we lose our humanity but then we lament and weep stealthily. These politicians always control our mind and soul. We have no way out.

We felt that the man’s words as if echoing the pains and agonies of the common people of both countries. A curtain of silence suddenly dropped down. After a few moments when we everyone grasped his hand warmly, he smiled that showed the soul of the man, how nice he is. What great feelings he possesses.

Our time to go out was nearing and we then went to pay him-he told
-If you don’t mind please don’t pay, consider it as the token of the love of our countrymen who don’t take you as our enemy.

We stood still lowering our head that was expressing the pains of all of us. We are prey to politics and as the common men, we have nothing to do but hope a for a better tomorrow when the sun will emerge and wipe out all the evils and mischief’s, crime and sins. A new world will come out where we the common people will make a new world to live as a human being.

Dibya went out. I forgot to offer him the pie and tea I arranged for him.