A Beautiful House at the Corner of My Town

And an unfulfillment that followed!

inside the townscape, there were not too many ancient houses, surviving the spirit of golden, into the present era of shinny skeletons,

except one, I saw its shadow from a distance, covered behind an oak tree, far from where I lived,

I could see it from the rooftop of my place, tall, bulky, palace-like presence to the children like me, and we made stories, from our illusions, the sky was not the limit,

once I saw the house from the front, when the school picnic happened, on the garden front just beside the house, all the dreamy eyes of the 10-year-olds, looking for the illusionary presence of the ghosts or jins, or, at least a thrilling scene to happen, nothing did!

I had the chance again, on one dark shadowed evening, when the winds blowing and a storm announcing its presence on the horizon, I had to hide under the trees, and I saw the house again, distant, yet clear on the thunderstorm, church-like bigness, lonely surrounding, candle-light inside (the power-out, I guess),

it lured me into it, for a moment, but the storm ended abruptly, and I took the pathway to my home.

The last I saw was before leaving for my college, on a further place, from the bus window, I could see the house rose its head above the trees, and asked me, ‘Why couldn’t you visit me?’ I had no answer.

That was the last interaction between us. The house is no more there, just a skeleton with broken windows, molded walls, and death threat by the modern architectural elegance.

Suntonu Bhadra 2022