The Flast Novel :

 

A Short Story

[Here I present to you, Dear Reader, the story that was created in an hour. By the way, I am aware of the fact that there is no such English word as ‘Flast’. I made it of my own combining the first letter of First and the word ‘last’ together. Hope you will enjoy reading and help me improve upon it by providing me honest feedback.]

 The Flast Novel:

Swagata is breathlessly brushing up the last few pages of his first and what is fated to be his last novel as well. He knows this is his last chance, his last chance of having a go at staking a claim on his share of name and fame as a writer of great promise and vast potential. Outside the day is waning with the gloomy clouds ready for an outright outburst. His belief of making it big as an aspiring wordsmith was severely jolted when his novel was turned down earlier by not one but all the three publishers he had sent the manuscript to.

And did he not consider it to be his masterpiece!

In the dim 60-watts light of his room he makes a promise to himself, he will change the ending with a note of optimism and hope, and hope that the editors of Chitra Publishers would fall for the story of a young struggling author, who wasted his life in the hope of making it big and making a difference.

As he tears off the last couple of pages of his hand-written draft, his hero, Joy, comes alive and kicking in his novel entitled “The Twist of Life”. Swagata turns back to the Prologue and finds Joy walking along Park Street, a posh area in the central part of Kolkata…..

 

That was the day he was given the sack by his new employer ‘Chhatrath & Choudhury’, a chartered company. Joy worked there just for a day less than three months. He knew even before he was called down to the Boss’s office. Sanjeebda, a senior accountant of the company, had told Joy earlier how these companies try to hoodwink their head offices in Mumbai by having more employees than required on their rolls. The company always made it a point to recruit novices like Joy especially before The Pujas. The sacked employees would never know about the bonus and all that was credited in their account! He wouldn’t last that long!

Joy was a failure all his life. He wanted to be useful to others. He believed in basic human goodness, the milk of human kindness, love, compassion and a lot of other values. Unfortunately, others didn’t believe him. Any hope of pursuing the profession, that is, Teaching, considered something of a family tradition, was dashed as soon as his ISC result was out. With a meagre 57 percent, there was not much chance of a future. He started applying to various places for a job. Every Wednesday he would go to the nearby library where the daily papers could be read for free and note down the advertisements that responded to his poor academic qualifications.

Joy never received a single offer from anywhere! He even tried applying to an agency looking for people desirous of taking acting as a career. He had heard it told on numerous occasions that he had the looks. His eldest sister, Protisha, who was a Professor, would always remind him not to be a makal fruit. He went, unknown to any other member of the family, to Minerva Studio, the best studio in the town with the 50-rupee-note tucked in his shirt pocket that he had saved from the money given by Ritesh Babu, his father, for the daily family marketing.

The frustrated looking young man at the counter of the studio told him he needed 30 rupees more for the postcard size photo. He had to wait for nearly a week more to have the photo. He could have asked from anyone for the extra money but he felt ashamed. Finally, when he looked at the postcard picture, he was stunned. The youth with his curly hair, silver rimmed glasses, his probing eyes staring contemptuously from behind them, the crisp moustache – looked like a famous Bengali actor in his hay days. Immensely pleased with the photo, Joy sent it to the agency at once with high hopes. He didn’t even receive a confirmation note from the agency!

 

The best days of his Life were passing him by. Most of his school mates were now settled. He thought it best to keep his distance from them. Atanu was working as a lecturer. The rascal who only knew how to flirt with and tease girls hiding in the turning of the stairways, away from the appreciative eyes of the other friends at collage……..

 

Swagata runs his hand through his thinning curly hair. The story at the conclusion of chapter thirty-seven is all about Joy’s struggles and sacrifices. Yes, Joy became a hero to himself the day the three of them made a frank proposal to Anu, though the idea was mainly his.

 

Her full name was Anupriya. She was a beauty if there was ever any. She used to come for tuitions to his elder brother, Ronit, who, besides drawing from his steady salary as the Headmaster of the only boys school in their locality, was earning a fortune by running his own Coaching Centre on the ground floor of their residence. Anu would often come up to the first floor on one excuse or the other. That’s how Joy and Anu became friends. Joy was in standard XII while she was appearing at the ICSE. It was there in his room that the three of them, Joy, his cousin, Deb and Pijush, their best friend, made that proposal to Anu. They would be happy if she accepted anyone from amongst them. All of them were good friends and Joy thought that Anu would fall for Deb, hook, line and sinker. During the whole episode, she kept quite.

“Okay. If you want to think over it, take as much time as you want. We’re in no hurry but choose one of us you MUST…” Pijush cut in jovially.

They reached her home that night though Joy and Anu kept quiet on the way back while Deb and Pijush chattered on. He received a call from Anu the next day waiting outside the Metro. Immersed as Joy was in himself, he called Deb to go meet her. His surprise therefore knew no bounds when Pijush rang him late into the night to talk about his affair that took off with Anu that very day! Pijush himself sounded surprised. Joy decided to stay out of the matter. All he wanted from the beginning was not to cause hurts to anyone or break hearts……

 

Swagata continues to flip through the pages to the last chapter. It was the wedding of Pijush and Anu. Deb had smartly or cowardly left the city for a market survey. Joy, anyway, decided to attend the wedding reception at Hotel Taj. The auditorium was teaming with the invitees. As Joy made his way through the throngs to the dias, he saw Anu and Pijush standing side by side with some relatives with the lights from the cameras flashing on them. Both of them looked lost despite all the apparent glee and gaiety. It was only on that night that Joy had the pangs of regrets. He realised how dearly Anu loved him and what a great girl she was…

 

Swagata picks up the torn pages. The story seems to have progressed quite smoothly till now. Why was it rejected thrice then? Was it because Joy remained a loner till the end, a vanquished do-gooder who couldn’t even have scripted a happy ending to his own life story? Yes, this had to be the reason. No one loved a loner or a loser. No one cared a fig for the vanquished. This world already has enough of do-gooders. This world is for the winners and now he knows what he has to do. He would pick Joy up from down in the dumps and provide the twist of the story. Joy was too precious a gem to end in the gutters. He would give true meaning to the name – Joy, that is happiness or pure bliss.

 

As Swagata gets busy putting his pen back to paper, the door gets slammed shut. Thunder and lightening flashes across the sky shattering the silence of the night. The lights are out, blanketing the dingy room into darkness. He puts his head up at the screeching sound next to find Anu, of all people, standing at the door like a statue, still as graceful and attractive as she always was. The shadowy figure of Anu in the stillness of the room bothers Swagata. Adhura, their only child must be delirious, lying in bed, in utter pain. She has been suffering from a deadly attack of flu for the last 4 days. How does he tell Anu about either his or her dire state for the matter? Doesn’t even have a hundred bucks in his purse! But she seems to know already like she always did! He gets up laboriously. His story lies untouched, unfinished on the table. As he tries to walk past the door; Anu with a blank yet passionate expression in her eyes puts her arms around him and breaks into an uncontrollable burst of sobbing. He stands still with the feeling of hunger in his eyes.

Another flash of lightening accompanied by the stormy wind and thunder flashes through the open window, blowing the pages of his hand-written novel off the table and scattering the pages here and there. Some even out of the window into the darkness of the narrow lane outside.

 

The End