Rajib Goswami
Next day a police officer came to our home. He knew my father.
Well Mr. Ghose, this Gouri of yours, died for the second time.
What are you saying?
Well we got her past records. You never asked me for that. But now she is dead, it’s our duty to know about her past. Here it is.
Well, she along with her parents and two younger brothers were fleeing our neighboring country. Unfortunately, all of them were shot dead except her at the border. She was brutally tortured. How she crossed the border after such torture nobody knew. Our security forces found her lying naked and unconscious in a paddy field adjacent to border. She was brought to a hospital.
There she stayed for two months. At the request of an elderly nurse she wrote everything. That torture made her speechless forever. Then she fled from that hospital. You want to see her letter to that nurse… her father was a school teacher.
No, you said everything… officer, we can’t gain from anything. Fame, money, man these are momentary happy feelings. But there is something called love… above all which stays, which cares. She lost everything but she has not forgotten to distribute love generously amongst us.
Goodbye Gouri. Goodbye Didi.
