An evening...

After two unsuccessful attempts last evening I succeeded in planning my pending visit to the Bimal Mitra Academy, Chetla. As soon as the clock struck 4, I quickly wound up my last responsibilities towards the ongoing construction work and got ready to leave. Baba did try to come up with some conversation just as I went to say bye to him but I politely had to tell him that I was getting late. when I reached the nearby bus stop/ taxi-auto stand, no taxi was visible. Few minutes of wait made me restless and I boarded a shared auto rickshaw aiming to go to the next stop where I would hopefully find a taxi. Fortunately, just after few yards I spotted one and thankfully he agreed to go to Chetla. In that one hour I nervously kept checking my stuff, had I forgotten anything? What would they say to my offer, will I face much problem? I didn't have any record of any of my previous trivial works with me.
The taxi driver knew exactly where to take me; we only had to stop once to ask for directions. As soon as we crossed the small bridge on the right side My eyes fell upon the three storied house with a prominent board that said in bold letters- Bimal Mitra Academy. As I entered the house I felt a shiver and vague nervousness, very similar to what I had felt while roaming around streets in Oxford! Mr. Basu, the son-in-law of Bimal Mitra, the great author of some epic novels and in numerous short stories, was waiting to show me around. The room was converted into an Art Gallery, many a great painters' paintings based on the famous novels of Bimal Mitra were displayed. There were also some pictures of the writer himself. Surprisingly an hour passed without realizing. By then I had gathered many titbits about the writer's life and his writings.

My journey back home was a more relaxed one. I could feel pangs of hunger but did not want to stop at any of the tempting restaurants we passed by. My mind was so engrossed with what I had experienced that the unruly crowd of buzzing Gariahaat failed to attract me. I decided that I will leave the Taxi at the food stall near my house and walk home from there. The idea pleased me and I sat pondering over my next plan of action.
As luck would have it, a little before the taxi entered salt lake it started drizzling and by the time I reached my locality it was pouring, washing away all my plans. I just came home, drained out, took a shower, made some Maggie and sunk in the sofa in front of TV.