At the street corner of the neighborhood, Samay Sen encountered a baba. He had never seen this baba before. Samay Sen’s eyebrows were tense, as always, clearly reflecting his face’s distress. He still felt that the world was judgmental toward him, that no one accepted him for who he truly was. He had suffered this agony since childhood, carrying this burden alone without sharing it with anyone. Time passed.
Amid these inner conflicts, that day, as he was heading to the market through his own street, he heard the baba’s voice—
“Son, I have an infallible solution to your problem. … Spend an hour each day in the park at the corner of the neighborhood. After seven days, a miracle will happen in your life, and you will be completely free from your inner turmoil.”
As soon as the baba finished speaking, countless questions started swirling in Samay Sen’s mind. How does he know about my troubles? Could he be a fraud? What if I go to the park daily and his men follow me? What if they harm me? He was utterly confused. Then, wanting to show gratitude, he pulled out a ten-rupee note to give to the baba, but by then, the baba had already walked away. Only his voice lingered—
“Son, may your life be blissful. I want nothing from you.”
The baba had disappeared from Samay’s sight. Samay did not think it appropriate to follow him.
Samay Sen was a science teacher, far from superstition, but suddenly, some thoughts surfaced in his mind—Why exactly seven days? He had read about the number seven—it was considered divine, the number of salvation… etc. A thought struck him: It’s just a matter of seven days… one hour each day… only seven hours in total. Why not try it? After all, years of suffering… and only seven hours for a solution!
He said to himself—Today is Makar Sankranti… The park will be crowded with people flying kites… I’ll start tomorrow, every evening at exactly 5 PM. After school, I’ll teach a batch of students for tuition, and then I’ll go to the park. At least this will also give Rekha a break from her constant efforts to fix me.
January 15, 5 PM
As promised, Samay Sen arrived at the park, looking for a place to sit. In the western corner of the park stood a mango tree with a cement table beneath it. He went and sat on the table. The soft evening sunlight filtered through the mango leaves, gently touching him. A January evening… and such tender sunlight—he felt good.
He thought about how, in the pursuit of earning money and surviving in a big city, he had completely forgotten about nature. All he had done was fight… fight… and kept fighting sometimes externally and most of the internally—it had become his way of life.
As the evening progressed, the crowd in the park grew. Children played, elderly people did yoga. Right in front of his table was a thorny bush, where a kite was stuck. He remembered—Yesterday was Makar Sankranti.
Suddenly, he noticed two brothers—Naveen Sharma and Praveen Sharma. He knew them well because their children were his students. The elder brother, Naveen, was an IAS officer, while the younger, Praveen, was a clerk in the water department. Despite their differences, their bond was remarkable. They walked arm in arm, chatting warmly.
Samay felt good. If only all brothers in the world shared such love, beyond their social disparities…
At that moment, a memory of his elder brother, Tanmay Sen, surfaced. Samay had visited Tanmay’s house with his family. A gathering of friends was happening, and why not? After all, Tanmay was the CEO of a big tech company.
Tanmay had told Samay—“Stay inside the room… don’t come out among my friends. And if you do meet someone, tell them you are a physics professor at Hansraj College.”
Samay had agreed, but his brother’s words had deeply shaken him. Such a vast gap between two brothers—one a mere teacher, the other a CEO.
Samay wanted to think that a CEO’s success was built on teachers like him… but he couldn’t. He simply wasn’t accepted for who he was.
Sitting in the park, an hour had passed. The kite stuck in the bush was struggling to free itself, but its string was getting even more entangled. Samay got up and started walking home. He felt good.
January 16, 5 PM
Seated at the same table in the park, Samay Sen gazed at the trapped kite. It felt as if he himself was trapped.
The evening was slightly colder today, but the soft sunlight made it pleasant. The park was less crowded than yesterday. Suddenly, Samay’s eyes fell on a father carrying his four- or five-month-old baby, wrapped in multiple layers of clothes, close to his chest. The man walked toward Samay and sat at the same table.
After a while, a faint odour spread in the air. The man immediately noticed that the baby had soiled itself. He carefully pulled out a napkin from his pocket, wiped the baby clean, and changed the napkin.
This scene triggered a storm of questions in Samay’s mind. He asked the man—
“Why didn’t you bring the baby’s mother along?”
“She has a viral fever… I’m trying to keep the baby separate so it doesn’t get infected.”
Hearing this, tears welled up in Samay’s eyes. He didn’t know who these tears were for—the baby, the father, the mother… or himself.
A story his grandmother had told him countless times began to resurface in his mind. It was as if his deceased grandmother was whispering into his ears—
“It was a terrible winter night. You were six months old… Tanmay was four years old. He slept with his mother, while you were in your father’s arms. Suddenly, at midnight, you soiled yourself. You know how short-tempered your father was… Without a second thought, he took you outside and threw you into a ditch… and went back to sleep.
Your mother didn’t dare to go against him… nor did he come back for you. But I couldn’t leave my grandson out in the cold for jackals and stray dogs. I went out and brought you back, sobbing and wailing. That night, you slept with me.”
Every time Samay recalled this story, he wondered—How did a father sleep peacefully that night? What helplessness kept a mother from saving her child? Or did they already know that grandma would come to my rescue?
His heart felt heavy now… It was almost 6 PM.
Before leaving, his eyes fell on the kite trapped in the bush. It was still struggling, its flapping wings tying even more knots in its thread.
January 17, 5 PM:
Today, once again, Samay found a place to sit under the same tree. His eyes were fixed on the kite. He had started enjoying coming to the park, but the stuck kite gave him a sense of heaviness. Many times, he found himself identifying with the trapped kite.
Today, his eyes fell on a father and his 10-year-old son sitting on the grass in front of him. Their conversation was clearly audible. The father was saying, “Son, the exam results are not in our hands, so you shouldn’t worry about them at all. Low marks only tell us that we need to work harder next time.”
Hearing their conversation, Samay was reminded of an incident from when he was 12 years old—when he was in 7th grade, his marks were very low. As punishment, his father had locked him inside a large basket. After a while, he fainted. Later, he found out that his father had completely forgotten he was inside the basket and could have suffocated. A doctor had to be called before he regained consciousness.
Looking at that father and son today, hearing them, Samay felt like crying.
He recalled techniques from Neuro-Linguistic Programming: “To feed something new into the subconscious mind, old pain must be removed.”
While going home, he remembered that Baba... Who was he? His mind felt lighter.
January 18, 5 PM:
As soon as Samay sat at the table under the tree, a couple arrived. The husband had a misaligned eye, and the wife was limping slightly. As they approached, the wife asked, “Uncle, may we sit here?”
Samay respectfully vacated the table for them and sat nearby on the grass. His eyes were fixed on the couple. There was immense love between them. They had accepted each other completely.
After his marriage, Samay had thought, “No matter how I am, Rekha will accept me as I am.” In the beginning, everything was fine. But then began the efforts... efforts to correct his mental squint... efforts to fix his behavioral flaws.
Once again, Samay started feeling trapped in his insecurities. But he couldn’t share his pain with anyone. Lost in his thoughts about what he had gained and what he had lost, he left the park earlier than usual today.
January 19, 5 PM:
Today, he was looking at the mango tree. He was completely unaware of the people coming and going in the park. The soft sunlight filtering through the leaves and the evening breeze created an incredible sense of peace. It felt as if this was not a mango tree, but the Bodhi tree of Bodh Gaya. And beneath it, not Samay Sen, but Gautama Buddha himself, seated in deep contemplation, receiving infinite wisdom.
Today was the fifth day. Samay could feel a change within himself.
Before leaving, he glanced at the kite—it had torn in several places in the process of trying to free itself.
January 20, 5 PM:
Today, Samay couldn’t find a place under the tree. He sat at a distant empty table. Nearby, an ice cream vendor stood. A couple arrived with their two children and bought the same type of ice cream for both kids.
Both children placed their exam report cards on the table while eating their ice cream.
Samay’s eyes fell on the report cards. One said “Failed,” while the other said “Rank-1.” But both children had the same ice cream—without discrimination.
Once again, Samay compared himself to Tanmay. His brother was extraordinarily talented in academics, while he was just ordinary. And accordingly, their meals were different—Tanmay got parathas soaked in ghee, while Samay was only entitled to dry rotis.
Lost in thought, he returned home.
Final Day:
Before heading to the park today, something inside Samay felt different—some transformation was happening within him.
Last night, he had received a call from his brother, Tanmay. Before leaving for the park, Rekha had said, “I have some work today, but from tomorrow, I will also come to the park with you.” She had added sarcastically, “Maybe you’ll finally meet your Baba.”
Sitting at his usual table in the park, Samay lost himself in memories of the past. The fragrance of palash flowers blended with the winter breeze—an unusual yet remarkable combination. He recalled how, after marriage, he and Rekha had often walked in the park hand in hand, lost in their world, oblivious to onlookers... only the city had been different.
Perhaps, in this winter season, the spring of love was returning to his life.
Suddenly, a gust of wind changed the direction of his thoughts. Tanmay’s words from the phone call echoed in his ears:
“Samay, you and Rekha must come to my office farewell party. No excuses! It’s a big day—I’m retiring from the showy corporate life to enjoy a simple life, just like you.”
The mind is fickle… Today, of all days, memories of his father surfaced. Samay had once been seriously ill, in the final stages of pleurisy. Doctors had given up hope. Durga Puja was approaching, and his siblings were pestering their father for new clothes.
At that moment, his father’s words had pierced his heart:
“The lamp of my lineage is struggling to stay lit, and you all are worried about clothes?”
A constant process was taking place within Samay—one he couldn’t quite understand. Perhaps it was sublimation—of thoughts, emotions, and feelings.
Today was a decisive day in the park.
Lost in contemplation, his eyes drifted toward the kite stuck in the bushes. He carefully observed the knots and tangles in the string. Then, he noticed the string entangled at the root of the bush.
Before he could act, he realized something—the branches of the bush were not at fault for trapping the kite. The string itself had been creating newer tangles, continuously getting caught on the branches.
As the cold wind intensified, Samay suddenly got up and approached the bush. He began untangling the knots at the root. As soon as the knots were loosened, a gust of wind swept the kite away. The string smoothly slid off the branches, freeing itself effortlessly.
In the dim light, the red kite appeared slightly black, but its flight, its newfound freedom, spoke volumes. It had finally broken free.
As Samay prepared to leave for home, something occurred to him—the park’s entrance had two boards with messages written on them. He had never read them before.
Under the glow of the streetlight, he read the left board:
“If you believe you are perfect and see only flaws in others, then you still have a long way to go in improving yourself.”
The right board read:
“Your inner world determines what your outer world will be.”
Now, a final unanswered question stood before Samay—“Who was that Baba?”
Perhaps… it was his own inner self which I overheard.
React
