The Everyday Pen

I remember an incident of last year when I was wandering after finishing my part-time photo print work in  Berhampore . The road was busy, and the market looked lively. People were moving in all directions, carrying bags, calling out to each other, and selling their goods. Among all the stalls and shops, one thing caught my attention—a man selling colourful wool. His stall was small, but the wool he displayed looked bright and beautiful. Red, green, blue, yellow, white—he had so many colours neatly arranged. I stopped for a moment to look closer. The man noticed me and smiled. I smiled back. There was something friendly about him that made me feel comfortable. We started talking. I asked him where he came from and how he managed to set up in this busy market. He told me he had been trying to sell wool for many years, but the business was not growing as he hoped. His voice had a little worry, but also determination. He said he always tried new things, trying to find what people like...

Some months ago I went to an insurance office to submit some papers. The room was crowded, and the line moved very slowly. The staff behind the counter seemed busy or maybe tired. People waited quietly. Some were standing, and some were sitting on the edge of plastic chairs. There was a woman, maybe in her fifties, standing near the counter with a small file. Every time she went forward, they refused her papers. They said something was missing or not filled properly. She looked helpless. I could see she didn’t know much about forms or office work. After a few minutes, I went closer and offered to help. She smiled a little and gave me her papers. Together we filled the missing parts, line by line. Just as we finished, the office clock struck one. “ Lunch break ,” someone said, and the staff got up, leaving everyone waiting again. The woman sighed. I told her to sit, and we both waited. I looked out of the window. The sky was bright and calm. A few pigeons were flying slowly over the bui...