The shaky finger rolled over the ENTER key; but he just could not press it. Panic-driven he was, checking and rechecking for every spelling and grammatical mistake. He could not find any. How can he? He has been typing those 100 words every night for the last 2 months.
Shamik took up his guitar: – one of the few things that has still kept him going these days. The solitude of the room at night and some random chords that he will play now :- D minor being his favourite. He just does not feel like doing anything after returning from office:- he has been off social media since quite a few months now; he does not watch movies or listen to songs which once used to be his favourite pass time; he does not even go out for dinner most of the days and does with some biscuits for the whole night. He will absolve himself in the chords, think of some good old people and time (unbiased with regard to gender), will at times cry(a closed dark room and solitude has seen many gallant’s sobs) and then will end up smoking some weed. He hasn’t smoked ever in his high school or college even after a lot of persuasion and peer pressure. But somehow here, the loneliness of the distant city has gifted Shamik a stick of marizuana on these solitary nights of his quarter room.
No this should not have been that pensive a story; neither is Shamik an emotional psychopath. He has completed his education with proper dignity and now has got a decent job outside his hometown. He has a family from where he gets a call almost every day and the conversation mostly starts with ‘how are you?’ and ends within a minute’s span. He has some old friends out there in different parts of the country (some even abroad) who all are tangled in their own knots of life but still manages to call up Shamik in decent intervals. Shamik has a girl too:- a half-girlfriend type(that’s what he says about her) from whom he gets a call in every 2/3 days(the frequency has decreased in the past few months). Shamik has an affable group of work-colleagues who have all recently stopped inviting him to their weekend parties and gatherings(only after Shamik has declined many such invitations in past) but they do care about him. But somehow in the nights, Shamik ends up convincing himself that he is alone.
Shamik tries to figure out his problem every night; but he can’t figure it out. Yes he doesn’t like his job. He doesn’t like to sit in front of that square machine every day for 8/9 hours. He feels sick every morning at the mere thought of going to that very office. The only day he is charged to go to the office is probably the day when he gets the remuneration. But this Shamik only was mad about getting the job 2 years back. How happy all were – family, friends, relatives after Shamik converted the interview. Dreams shining in their eyes and Shamik being the torch holder of their dreams. He felt very satisfied that day and was very happy too. Well wait a minute :- Is Satisfaction and happiness the same thing?
Shamik used to play the guitar from his high school days. He was praised by many. At college Shamik was part of the college band. Like all said, he an immense power to convert people’s thoughts into music. He had also been a part of quite a few stage shows. His performance at the college festival night:- he considers it to be the best day of his life when the audience gave him a standing ovation. Besides playing the guitar, Shamik also tried writing songs of his own and giving them music. The dream was to make big :- he dreamt of being the Bob Dylan of Bengal.
Every morning Shamik wakes up to find his guitar lying somewhere on the floor. His laptop which he forgets to shut down goes to sleep mode. He opens it, deletes the recipient and last few lines of the resignation letter that he types every night but fails to just click on the ‘send’ button. He saves it in the drafts folder and lifts himself up. A day with all its filth is waiting for him. He will now have to get ready to fit in it. The office awaits him. The guitar and the solitude will have to wait for him till night again. Somewhere far away, his family will be waiting on the 1st day of the month when Shamik sends them the cheque. A girl is waiting for Shamik; probably she won’t (cant) for many days more.
Shamik is also waiting :- he is waiting for the day(or the night) when he can just press that ‘ENTER’ key after typing the letter; without hesitation.