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At The Bar

About Moinak Dutta

Name: Moinak Dutta
Occupation: teacher, published fiction writer, poet.
Date of birth: 5th september,1977,
Nationality : Indian
Sex : male
Short bio:
Born on 5th September, 1977, he has been writing poems and stories from school days.Done postgraduation in English. Presently engaged as a teacher of English.Many of his poems and stories are published in national and international anthologies and magazines and also dailies including 'The Statesman' ( kolkata edition), ' World Peace Poetry anthology ' ( United Nations), 'Setu' , ' The Indian Periodical' ' Pangolin Review' ' Tuck Magazine' ' Duane's Poetree', ' Tell me your story' ( literary and travel magazine), ' The Literary Fairy Tales' ' Defiant Dreams' ( a collection of stories on women empowerment published by Readomania, New Delhi ), etc;
Written reviews of books and fictions, among which notable ones are : on ' The Upanisads ' ( translated by Valerie J. Roebuck) which can be found at www.blogapenguinindiaclassic.blogspot.com and the review of ' The Ballad of Bapu' ( written by Santosh Bakaya). Written some essays and articles on education and literature and other topics which had been published in both e- books/e - journals ( like Cafe Dissensus) and as printed books/ papers ( like one on ' Amalgamation of social media and literature: pros and cons, published by Viswa Bharati Research Centre and Sahitya Anand).
He is first full length english( genre: literary/romance ) fiction ‘Online@Offline’' had been published in 2014, by Lifi Publications.His second fiction(genre: literary/quest) titled ' In search of la radice' was published in 2017 by Xpress Publications. Also worked as an editor of a poetry collection titled ' Whispering Poeisis' , which had over one hundred poems from sixty poets from different parts of India and abroad, published in 2018 by Poeisis. Loves to do photography apart from listening to music and watching films and traveling.

email :moinakdutta@yahoo.co.in

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It has always been my favourite place since Drona introduced me to it. I liked it more than other watering holes of the city because of its decor which had lot of oak wood furniture. Another thing about it is its quietness, a gentle quietness, oft accentuated by the sombre gravity it carried because of its patrons who were mostly middle aged working professionals.
During winter and monsoon it becomes a bit crowded, still it never failed to keep me charmed. I would always find a sofa beside the glass window overlooking the street, the Middleton Row, and while taking leisurely sips of wine I would always look outside, ruminating about people of the city, its colonial past, its cultural conservatism.

That evening had not been any different. I was sitting by the window. The wine with which I got settled that evening was slowly kicking in.
Then I heard a feminine voice. ‘Excuse me…’
A woman, in black saree, sleeveless blouse, high heels, carrying a silver colored purse in her hand appeared before me, almost from nowhere.
‘Can I sit here?’ She asked.
‘Sure…’ I said, feeling surprised and at the same time pleased to have company.

It was drizzling outside. Little droplets of water had accumulated on the window glass. The light from the street was making curious designs on those droplets and the glass window. A soft rock song was being played in the bar.
‘So how are you, Susmit?’ She asked.
I was startled hearing my name. Then I looked at her. ‘O myGod! Megha! What are you doing here?’ I almost shouted in excitement recognising her, my college-mate.
‘I am doing exactly what you are doing…enjoying the beauty of the evening and a bit of intoxication…’ Megha smiled.
Megha had grown more roundish and womanly. In saree she was looking ravishing. I laughed.

We talked.
Megha spoke about her life, boyfriend, marriage and divorce. I about my bachelorhood and writings.
‘Tell me, why writers prefer to remain unmarried?’ She asked.
‘Probably because they foresee life and think of marriage as a necessary unnecessary thing.’ I joked. Megha laughed. Her lips were red and moist, her perfume tantalising.

Perhaps she noticed my eager eyes. ‘So… do you still think of me?’
‘Sometimes…’ I replied.
‘After we broke up, you know Susmit, I was really depressed for some months. Then plunged into multiple affairs. Got serious about one. Got married. Got divorced soon. Went abroad. Came back. Took a job in the western side of the country. Only last year, came back to the city. Had to…’ Megha talked a lot at one go and then sighed.
‘Why? Why you had to come back?’

‘Well… got a dreaded disease… my days are numbered Susmit… only last week I learnt from your facebook post that you visit this bar on Saturdays… so came here…to meet you… last time before ….you know…’ Megha stopped.
‘You follow me on fb?’ I asked, dumbfounded and absolutely stupefied.
‘Yes dear’ Megha said, looking at me.
I looked at her eyes. They carried oceans, blue and deep.

I was feeling dizzy.
Was it because of the wine?
I did not know…

 

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