echos of silence...

I could see his pensive eyes while he was giving that parting hug to one of his hostelmates... the intensity of that desolate hug...two years along ...they knew its not the end but it wont be the same hostel again perhaps...those funfilled hectic days..those mumbai-delhi fights...endless discussions into the night over some unwarranted sexy or sporty issue....that silent crush...those basketball matches....choreo rehearsals....fest preparations....the infinite late night blasts....world will not be the same ever again for him....
I remember six years back when he was going to the hostels for the first time to do his B.tech...just before the cab was to arrive, i had slipped to the terrace to give way to my tears in lone...just the other day i was decorating his project files...sitting late into the night...while he was fast asleep besides me....I remembered the cricket matches we played at the terrace...the cold winter nights bundled with him in a rajai.....and suddenly today he was leaving home for the first time for a new place hundreds of miles away from me....me living away from him was not the only worry...I was more concerned about him, how will he manage without me....today after his B.tech and thereafter an MBA from the IIM, there he was waving to his friends to start a new life...beyond all the secures of a hostel life...once again I could feel the tears inside me and this time for his return from the hostel life...I know how much he enjoyed his life there (he loves partying)...I have seen him too content with his bindaas life as a student and I knew how difficult is the world out there where he will be heading to...for moments i just wished he remain in that hostel for ever and be happy with his friends there...and I just keep sending the monthly money transfer for all his necessary and not so necessary expenses...I just could not stand his sadness...most of rooms at the new hostel were vacated by then....i entered one of them just to smell the melancholy spread all over there ..papers, documents, toothbrushes, soaps, mirrors, old chappals, some half torn posters of some sports-star or band-star on the wall and a few more important articles strewn around...and in a corner lay a basketball...perhaps many of them puposely left some of their belongings there, just to keep their presence there everafter....
And then the cab arrived...by that time most of his friends were off for their homes...the hostel looked in a state of despair..he was one of the last few to leave the hostel.....the room, the walls, the lobby, the stairs, the terrace all seemed too much in silence..he took a last glance at the room and moved down the stairs...completely calm he looked...but I knew its a storm there inside...as the cab moved, room, hostel, lakes trees, campus all were leaving behind...we didn't exchage a word...but the conversation was going on somewhere else ...I just kept myself busy with my tears inside...at the airport we were waiting at the lounge...he preferred to take a stroll around...I wanted to give him the space he needed...once in the air he was looking out of the window, motionless, though he knew he can not see joka from so high, so night.....below the twinkling lights of the city of joy kolkata were turning dimmer and farther..
(I was at IIM, Joka, Calcutta last month with family to be with my son at the convocation ceremony)