Four Lives(Saptanshu Sarkar) Four. Four is a significant number. East, West, North, South – the four directions. Earth, air, water, fire – the four elements of nature. Just like this, there were, and possibly are, four boys. Each of them had their own way of living, which was exclusively their own. They were just four tiny drops in this huge ocean. But yet, they were significant, just like all those drops which made the ocean.

His name was Sushant. He never knew who his parents were. Mr. and Mrs. Magar brought him up and Sushant believed that they were his parents, till one day Bahadur, their gardener, told him the truth. Mr. and Mrs. Magar brought him from an orphanage and loved him the way anyone would love their own child. After knowing the truth Sushant was not sad, rather he was grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Magar for giving him the time of his life for sixteen years. Now Sushant decided to leave home, not because of his despair that he was alone in this world, but to see life, that life which he would have seen if Mr. and Mrs. Magar wouldn’t have brought him home.

Tony was a nice little, teddy bear like boy when he was small and now he is just another boy. He was never happy and seldom sad. His parents loved him but loved his sister more. In his class he would always sit at the bench exactly at the middle of the row. Teachers didn’t even know that he existed. He had many friends, but not that much friendship. His class had fifty seats and he ranked twenty-fifth at every exam every year. He passed his school the same way and went to a college.

Like every other child, Ranvir was also very cute when he was a baby, but his age and hatred for life grew together, the latter sometimes more. His father brought him every pleasure but happiness. His teachers would regularly complain to his parents but after a moment or two, everything would be the same again. He heard famous people saying that food cooked by mother is the tastiest but he was not fortunate enough to taste that. All his mother would give to him was his Tiffin money, with which he ate everything but never Tiffin. So this way he grew up, going to clubs, drinking, smoking, gambling…

A small boy made a beautiful painting just with a chalk, on the bench. His teacher saw this and asked his name. He would only say quietly, “Baban”. But on the day of exam the same teacher would scold him because he couldn’t write few spellings correctly, and this way Baban grew up. In other subjects he passed somehow, but no one could ever compete for the best painting award with him in his school. This was the one award he won every year. Not only that, in every painting competition he participated, he never got a second prize, always the first. He wanted to join the art college, but his parents didn’t allow him. They thought he could easily get a job in his uncle’s company if he could learn some basic engineering and so his passion was buried alive by his parents. But his passion didn’t die.


All Sushant carried with him while leaving home was some money, food enough for a week, few clothes and an urge to do something on his own. He bought a ticket and went to a city, “The City of Dreams” they call it. He knew no one there, but got a job as a waiter in a hotel. He worked hard, very hard indeed, so he earned hiss boss’s goodwill. Sushant loved dreaming, not while sleeping, but with eyes wide open while seeing this violent world. He dreamt of doing something, at least something which would give him a cause for living. He worked hard, slept for less than two hours a day and earned money. He worked slowly but steadily and at last he realized that he had made enough to do something big, big for him even if for no one else. He opened one small shop which was his, made by him without the obligation of any one else. That small shop was Sushant’s world, he lived for it and died in it. The day one of his close friends obliquely told him that he didn’t have much time left; he went back in his memory and realized that he had enough in his life. He died without regretting a moment of his life.

Tony passed his college and got a job. The job got him sufficient to do for his family. He got promoted only once in his service tenure and retired without doing anything remarkable which would make him remembered. When the doctor told his wife that he had a deadly disease, for the first time in his life Tony regretted his life and wanted to do something which would make him feel better, something which he would do to add a twist in his life, to make his life interesting. He went for Bungee jumping. No one agreed to let him go but he went away silently at one night. In the morning his family searched for him everywhere when one of Tony’s friends called his home and asked his wife to tune to the news channel. The news reader read, ”A seventy year old man named Tony Sang died in an attempt of Bungee Jumping today at dawn…”

Ranvir lost almost everything he inherited, in gambling. It took less than five years for Ranvir to spend all his fathers saving which would have been more than enough for him to spend his whole life in pleasure. But now Ranvir had nothing other than their house, which was less of a house and more of a palace. Even his house was going to be bank property in a few weeks. So Ranvir chose the easiest way of getting relief. He was addicted to drugs and had adequate amount of them with him to kill himself. That night, before taking the drugs, he stopped, and went back in his memory, and found out his life could have been much better, but it was too late then.

During his stay at engineering college, Baban continued to learn painting from a renowned painter, who, after listening to Baban about his life and passion about painting and seeing Babans paintings didn’t charge him fees. Baban was very devoted to his painting and hence, failed at his college. His parents lost all hope on him till one day they saw an advertisement on the newspaper, ”The Burning Agony, Paintings by Baban Kumar, held at FIMA gallery, 12 noon to 8 at night, 14th to 20th June”. Under the advertisement were the reviews, which made Baban’s parents bewildered and happy at the same time. After that Baban never looked back. Now his death anniversary is celebrated as The Painting Day in his city.

These four lives didn’t know each other but there is a coincidence, they came to this world on the same day and the inauguration of Sushant’s shop, Tony's resolve of Bungee jumping, Ranvir’s day of suicide, and Babans first exhibition occurred at the same day. That fortunate day witnessed four lives, shaped into four different ways.

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