His year began with a cold shower last valentines morning, of course it was February, of course it was cold. For many years he dismissed the love day by saying valentines’s mother was a pagan and did not believe in Christ herself, rather was in love with a tree outside her home. So he would love a tree that stood outside their home. She would rebel even thinking about going outside and say I detest this urban theatre. Every one is a clone of the other. Look a likes inside outside.
He left mother for school where he found children crushing and tearing a chit that was given to them to call their parents. Later the painter came and looked at the plant pots and said no. They cannot be done. Twenty five years had passed. Then one day somebody complained about the school running in the park of a society. The notice came and school was shut. On the closing day school organised a reunion inviting all the ex parents where they served them beer, brownie and pineapple cake. Chatterjee came smiling and entered the gate that took him to an excavated site. It was a mound covered partially by a black polythene which gave it an abandoned look. The sun was setting and they decided to film a couple who were passionately kissing. They both wore red and looked helpless to go after a point. Yet smuggled themselves around each other like two snakes rolled up around each other joined by the mouth. The eagles arrived above and a lot lower were innumerable mosquitoes flying at human head height. When the sun set, hundreds of whistles pierced the wind. They left in the dark smoking and followed stairs down to a basement where a man named insane was talking about light.