The Cemetery....

Tapping of feet, clapping of hands, whispers of wind, melody of anklets.. Just another day and I would have ignored... But that day, it didn't seem to be possible.. Neither it was a bad day at office nor in the way... I mean no quarrels, no fights, no debates, no arguments, no teachings and preachings to walkers on social issues.... Quite a good day..! Though it was a peaceful day, yet calmness of mind was absent and seemed that it had flew away somewhere..  As I went to the cemetery after the office hour, which was at the nook of the street where I used to take the bus for my home, which is also have been declared a Heritage site by the Archaeological Survey Of India.. Don't know why but I couldn't coax myself to drag myself home.. Due to the interest in Historical place, perhaps.. The blatant mood of mine, forced me to end at the cemetery.. As soon as the philosophical part of mine, preached that it's the ultimate destination..the final one... I decided to have a glimpse of the place which will be going to be the last destination, the final one..

Those curiosities housed in me and forced me to have a sneak peek in the cemetery, as there was something, something which was prompting of its presence.. which was attracting me towards it.. Though I knew that if I convinced myself to go there,   I would definitely find myself late at home, yet that something posed more attractive and got over my worry of getting late.. So, I decided to give it a try and to experience something new, as I had never visited any cemetery before.. Well, usually no one does.. But there is a saying that some people live in world which is nothing but a creation of their own.. And I think I'm definitely one of those who do believe in the creation and existence of their own world.. Also preferred to visit it, as I had never felt the atmosphere of a cemetery.. As I had never felt my presence among dead people.. Or maybe because I too belonged among them..as somewhere deep inside I was also not alive, Me in myself was dead.. So what if I hadn't visited it before, there is always a First time for everything.. It's always better to regret for results than for not attempting... 

So, finally I stepped in with those rigorous thoughts... On the gate there was an old man who had got the responsibility of guarding dead people.. I don't know why it's necessary to guard dead people.. I mean "Come on!! Are they going to come out of their graves and going to run away...?" Anyways, that guard cautioned me to not to enter at this time, as it was 7.15 pm and the surrounding was getting darker.. He even stopped me for a minute and wasn't allowing me to enter... But after impugnating him, and having a logical fight with him, of course in literal form, he permitted me with the advisory caution that I must return back quickly and should not go deeper... Once again some questions popped in my head "What if some of those deads come out of their graves and start to run, will that guard be able to stop them?? If not, then what's the need and use of that guard..? Isn't people living on streets are more important to be secured and guarded than those who are residing peacefully in their provided shelters and are dead..?" They were same as my feelings: dead.. But when some of them manage to get out of their graves, all they do is make chaos and start to devastate..

After getting the permission and stepping in the cemetery I came to know that it was a Christian cemetery and that it used to be governed by some Christian Board, but now under the protection of ASI.. There were almost thousands of graves and gravestones, which were so old that they seemed to be terraced in British Era.. Some of them too beautiful to be called gravestones.. It would be more precise if one calls them 'Sculptures'.. Each of them eager to narrate their own story and eager to listen to mine.. But ruins and breakings of them were prohibiting them from doing so.. They were in bad state, demanding for renovation.. Most of the Shives of their plaster were also missing.. It resembled with that poor street boy, whose clothes get torn and his bare skin can be easily seen, yet they fail to decrease the cuteness and the innocence of his face.. Those graves were also depicting the same sombreness and beauty despite of their unsound condition.. I never found anything so attractive before, maybe because the tendency of loving the state of brokenness, had clouded all over me..

Anyone else, would have thought those hillocks as mere exaltation, which are only meant to, cover the cover of some English putrid flesh... But for me it was like my own story... Those graves were like me... Left alone in the middle of the city by the closed ones, broken and having an untold and unknown story in which no one seemed to be interested... Anyways I observed that each of them were erected beautifully on the bossom of the Earth.. After observing it closely, I found that they also had got carved some writings on it.. Perhaps name, or some quote.. Thousands of graves, but among them was one which was attracting me most, was the twin one... It were two graves built so close that it seemed to be one.. Seemed to be of someone who were meant to be too close to each other in their life and who tried to defy the death to separate them, even after their death... The mound of which were rectangular in shape and were wrested orthogonally as two smiling lips have been merged to make one.. I tried to read the words which were embossed on the stone.. Unfortunately, it was quite hard to read, as they appeared to be forgotten in the time.. The way they were covered with dust and leaves I can assure that no one had visited them in a long time... Seemed to be left alone for many years.. Though tough, yet I tried to read the words, failed to read the English letters but succeeded in reading the numeric ones.. After showing a full attention, only thing I was able to read was, 26th September, 1912.. So, one thing was clear that the stones were raised on 26th of September, year 1912.. There was something strange in it.. Both of the stones had same date.. That helped in depiction of the correct scenario.. That they died on the same day..

I sat close to it and tried to part the covering dust and leaves so that it could become easier to read the names written on it.. As soon as I touched it, I felt a hand on my shoulder... My fingers started to tremble, heart started to beat faster, vision blurred.. And as a normal mind would've reacted, my mind too started to shape lots of equations.. All the stories I had read about graveyards and cemeteries, started to flash before my eyes.. And before I turned to see who it was, or what it was, I blacked out.....

............to be continued