Embracing a New Dawn

It was the evening of December 31st, and I was in the middle of nowhere, waiting in anticipation for the great night that was approaching.

- by Sreelekha Chatterjee

My colleagues were partying miles away in our office, going over their New Year's resolutions and making any last-minute revisions to them, if necessary. My mind—alone and palely dawdling—couldn't concentrate, as it went back again and again to the air of elite officialdom that continued to set an example to the junior colleagues like me, but the same remained unused and above any law for the select few. Though acting obsequious, I always felt out of place, exhausted with the idea of temporary life in the office, rejecting yet another year. The recent addition to the brigade of supremacy was that of Rita.

Withered from the unrelenting worries and resentment on unable to act suitably like a mouse stuck in its hole with the snake being around, I chose a path with which I couldn't make peace. Moments of quietude and inner equilibrium seemed rare. Bouts of upheaval, in which my life abounded, led me to the middle of the cremation ground almost in the dead of the night, beneath the star-studded sky. A few isolated funeral pyres were smoldering in the deserted surroundings, far from me, while an awful smell of unimaginable putrescence wafted in the air. It was a no-moon night, and the only source of light was the blazing flame of the fire that was before me. The midwinter breeze from the nearby river carried a chill that seeped through my warmclothes, and I wrapped my arms around my knees. Whenever my eyes wandered toward the dense vegetation and trees—all dull, grey, menacing—on the other side of the strangely quiet river, they appeared in ghastly shapes and forms, with unknown, dark entities peeking from behind them—spying, watching meclosely.

Someone once told me, “When it is pitch dark, you know dawn is near.” But such words made sense in the pages of literature and not in reality.

“Hey, woman, concentrate on the ceremony.” The man sitting next to me thundered, his voice echoed unpleasantly.

“Yes, Baba!” I said.