Daily Prompt : Uneven

In response to daily post’s prompt : Uneven

I grew up in a family of twelve kids, there were more boys than girls. We were even in numbers, but ill-matched, especially me and my older sister. She was seven years older than me, which was an Uneven number.

She was taller than me. Surrounding herself with book was her favorite pastime. I gathered books when it was absolutely necessary, i.e when I had homework.

My sister loved the word match, her shoes, her dress, blouse, even her umbrella had to match or else she was unhappy. She was my Dad’s favorite because she did what we the other eleven did not. She studied or pretended she was studious.

My Dad was aware of all of us, we could not escape his eyes even when he seemed to read the newspaper to know how was our world doing in terms of trade, population, and other things.

One day I gave some money to our servant to buy me some dry tamarind, I loved them, they were so sour, he was about to hand it to me, my father appeared from nowhere, ‘Let me see’, he said.

He took it out of our servant’s hand, examined it carefully, ‘This is what you were going to eat, don’t you remember, the last time you were sick?’

He threw the little thing wrapped in a piece of paper.

I always felt he watched all my moves, he’d say to Mom, ‘What’s wrong with Ranu, she never uses cream on her face, she grew up in cities,one would think she’d look after herself?’

In his mind he was forever comparing me with his eldest daughter.

Let’s turn my attention to other people, one of our uncle’s nephew saw me and my sister for the first time, he had seen my sister several times, she was their constant visitor, but saw me the first time. He screwed up his face and wondered who is this one, my sister only hung out with stylish women, this one could not belong to her group, his curiosity made him ask, ‘Who is she?’

My sister said, ‘she’s my younger sister.’

‘WOW!’ he said, ‘Positive and Negative.’

Everyone I met thought we are mismatched, my teacher, Sister Joseph Mary ( Nun), asked me who she was.

I very proudly said, ‘She’s my sister.’

Her reply, ‘Is she your half sister?’

‘No,’   I said, ‘she’s my sister.’

Perhaps she said, ‘She’s your step sister!’

‘No, she’s my real sister.’

‘Same parents?’

‘Yes,’ was my reply.

She could not help saying, ‘My how different you are!’

Talk about mismatched, unequal, Uneven? We fit the category beautifully!



Song , Singer, Hemant Kumar, posted and translated by Ranu

মুছে যাওয়া দিনগুলি আমায় যে পিছু ডাকে
স্মৃতি যেন আমার এ হৃদয়ে বেদনার
রঙে রঙে ছবি আঁকে ।।


মনে পড়ে যায় মনে পড়ে যায়
মনে পড়ে যায় সেই প্রথম দেখার স্মৃতি
মনে পড়ে যায় সেই হৃদয় দেবার তীথি ।
দু’জনার দুটি পথ মিশে গেল এক হয়ে
নুতন পথের বাঁকে
মুছে যাওয়া দিন গুলি…।।


সে এক নতুন দেশে
দিন গুলি ছিল যে মুখর কত গানে
সেই সুর কাঁদে আজি আমার প্রাণে ।

ভেঙে গেছে হায় ভেঙে গেছে হায়
ভেঙে গেছে আজ সেই মধুর মিলন মেলা
ভেঙে গেছে আজ সেই হাসি আর রঙের খেলা ।
কোথায় কখন কবে কোন তারা ঝরে গেল
আকাশ কি মনে রাখে
মুছে যাওয়া দিনগুলি

This was an interview with Hemant Kumar who sang parts of other songs. The above song  was from one of my favorite movies of Uttam Kumar and Suchitra Sen.

My bygone days seems  to  call me back,

the memory of those days, hurtful though they are

feels like colorful images in my mind.

I cannot forget how happy we were,

we met, fell in love, our paths united into one.

It seemed like a new world,

where laughter and singing

occupied our mind.

Those days are wiped out.

It feels like a dream,

which brings me down to the real world.

I’m left with my painful thoughts.

I ask myself the question,

Is the sky aware when and where one  of its

stars dropped from sight?

I happen to be that star who

no one knows.

I’m left with memories that once,

gave me so much pleasure!