I WAS.

Hi ! I’m Kabir’s right hand. I’m here to tell you about myself and the life I have led.

In the beginning, I was tiny – easily enclosed in Maa’s hands. I slowly grew until I attained my present impressive stature. Anyway, since I’m short of time, I’ll have to run through this quickly.

I played a pivotal role in Kabir’s interactions with the world. I held on to dad’s hands and made sure Kabir learnt how to walk. He walked, and then he ran, and I was happy. I was the prime protagonist in Kabir’s first fight – lashing out hard and vanquishing his foes. I became his weapon of choice- a trusted lieutenant, if you will, in most fights and scuffles hence. I have to admit I liked to be in fights – though it did get a little painful at times.

Moving on to things of a much more pleasant and poignant nature, then. A few years later, Kabir fell in love with Aarti – and yet again, I was in the thick of action. Needless to say, I loved it. Aarti’s hands were really good friends of mine. Especially the left one, with whom I’ve spent many intimate evenings by the beach. Good times, those ! Thinking back on those days, I wish I had a face so I could smile.

I was Kabir’s instrument of action – the doer of all the good, bad, and not so bad things he did. My best friend was his cricket bat, the two of us having been on many successful campaigns together. His name was SS. I don’t know where he is now. Would have liked to meet him again. The coach wanted Kabir to be wristier. But I guess I liked playing straight.

I wasn’t just the doer or giver. I received a lot of things in return for my services as well. I got to hold Kabir’s first job letter, his first cigarette, his first paycheque, his first bike – a gleaming second hand Pulsar. I liked that bike. But, most importantly, I was the first one to hold Dhaani – Kabir’s daughter when she was born.  Her hands – so tiny and delicate, reminded me of the good old days and also made me realize that I had actually grown up. This is clearly my best memory, but the list could go on. If only I had more time.

I was Kabir’s problem solver, his most effective interface with the world. I was also his principal support giver – supporting his worried head in times of fear or doubt. I wish I could support him now.

I look around now, and now, all of that stands in the past – a past cruelly severed from my reach. Twenty minutes ago, my counterparts in other people chose to maim Kabir and many others like him in the name of God. I was taking in the sights and sounds of this bustling marketplace to which we had been coming. I had been seeing and touching a lot of gold, of late. Possibly,  a gift for Aarti. I liked the bangles in Rasikbhai’s shop. I couldn’t wait to slip the bangles into Aarti's wrists. I really loved those hands.

But, all that remains now are dreams and aspirations – trampled under the rubble of mindless hatred.

There was a loud explosion and I was flung several metres from Kabir. I can now see Kabir at a distance. He looks to be in a lot of pain. My place has been taken by a bloody gaping mess.

Though I don’t feel anything, I feel my thoughts trailing off too. I guess this is where I say goodbye.

Zaveri Bazaar, Mumbai – 13/7/2011.

Bye Dad, Maa, Aarti, Dhaani.

-Ayan Bandyopadhyay