First Glimpse

On the down-slope after crossing the bridge, my rickshaw gathered its usual speed. Despite all the peak time Puja shopping, the road was relatively clear today. The rickshaw, thus, got the opportunity to accelerate its pace even more. I noticed the huge crowd at one of the openings of the bazaar and dismissed it as a simple triviality. That has been my habit for years. Years. All the LPG-less autos were also moving in full glory as everyday and stopping midway for passengers. And of course, the same sight of rickshaw-walas abusing them for taking the streets to be their baaper rasta. It is all so familiar, so predictable, so typical about this place that it has almost merged into my notion of a home. My home.

But then I saw it. Finally.
It sped along the bridge overhead… its colour light brown, almost a slithering serpent… the glassy windows shining along the orange light of a dying sun… soundless like sleep… yet, grand and overwhelming in its presence…

Before I could take it all in, my rickshaw simply crossed the over-bridge and the sight was left behind. By the time I had turned my head around, it had vanished inside the platform. Nothing of it was left but a piece of song that struck me along with the passion as I greeted the view.

নাগরীক ক্লান্তি তে তোমাকে চাই,
এক ফোঁটা শান্তি তে তোমাকে চাই,
বহুদুর হেঁটে এসে তোমাকে চাই,
এ জীবন ভালোবেসে তোমাকে চাই...

(nagorik klanti te tomake chai,
ek fonta shanti te tomake chai,
bohudur hente ese tomake chai,
e jibon bhalobese tomake chai...)

The essence of my city is inescapable. Glimpsing the newly extended metro railway along a dim-lit bridge for the first time is just one medium of feeling its pulse.

Long live, my love!