A Farmer's Perseverance

Vikram wakes up by a pounding at the front door. He wonders what the matter could be and who is bothering him so early in the morning.

- Sreelekha Chatterjee

He opens the door to Sunil, a next-door neighbor, who starts uttering gibberish on seeing him, unable to speak coherently as he struggles to catch his breath—his pallid face turns crimson at the next moment with probably hurt or anger, Vikram can’t tell.

It’s the harvest day for all the farmers and instead of being in the field, Sunil has come up to him to inform him about some mishap, natural sorrow, loss, or perhaps, some lastminute emergencies relating to the reaping. Vikram observes the pale, cold light of the early morning outside suffusing across the grey-white of the sky. Everything appears to be serene, and calm, except for the young soul at his door.

“What’s the matter, Sunil?” Vikram enquires, bringing his face close to that of his neighbor, as a shudder of unease runs through him.

“Come quickly. Our crops have been eaten… I mean damaged by the rats. Biku had gone home early in the morning, leaving the field unattended. It was then that the rats had done the mischief. One of them has been caught in the traps set for them.” Anil goes on breathlessly, with lips quivering and taut face muscles, spitting saliva on Vikram’s face due to the proximity of it.

“What? My God!” Vikram almost stumbles on his doorsteps before he manages to sit down —unusually still with eyes fixed incredulously on Sunil. In a snapshot, the countless hours —spent in cold, rain, and sun, nurturing the crops, attending to their tedious necessities —appear before his eyes. Everything seems meaningless now, transformed into a void in a matter of minutes just because a tiny creature ventured into the farmland and devoured the fruit of his labor in no time, as if a love affair abruptly vanished in its entirety, eroded like it never existed.