Parallel World

In the small 1BHK apartment on the second floor of Vinayak Apartments, a beautifully decorated cake sat on a table in the corner of the drawing room. Sitting beside it was a middle-aged woman named Paroma. Today was her only son Suborno’s birthday, and he was at school. Paroma anxiously checked the clock, waiting for him to return. It was just 4:30 PM—only a few more minutes to wait. As soon as Suborno came home, she would wish him a happy birthday and have him cut the cake.

At school, Suborno couldn’t concentrate on his studies at all. He kept thinking about his mother and was eager for the school day to end. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the school bell rang, signalling the end of the day. Without looking around or stopping to talk to anyone, Suborno quickly packed his school bag and rushed home. He climbed the stairs to the second floor of Vinayak Apartments and rang the doorbell to his flat.

Paroma heard the doorbell and rushed to open the door, but instead of her son, she found her husband, Manish, standing there.

"Why are you home so early from work?" Paroma asked, surprised.

"I couldn’t focus at the office today. After all, today is a special day," Manish replied, his eyes drifting toward the cake on the table.

"Have you taken your medicine today?" Manish asked Paroma, concerned.

"Look, the boy still hasn’t come back from school, and here I am, waiting with the cake ready for him," Paroma said, avoiding his question. Manish gently guided Paroma to the bedroom.

Meanwhile, Suborno, after ringing the bell, was greeted by a middle-aged woman who opened the door.

"Oh, you’re home! Go wash your hands and face, and then come to eat," she instructed.

Suborno obediently went to the bathroom, washed up, changed into his home clothes, and then stood in front of the woman.

"Happy birthday, Suborno. Now go to the bedroom and pay your respects to your parents," she said warmly.

"Okay, aunt," Suborno replied, acting like the dutiful child he was, and entered the bedroom.

Inside the bedroom, Manish was showing Paroma a picture on the wall—a picture of Suborno. It was hung in one corner of the bedroom. Manish once again reminded Paroma of the tragic accident that had occurred a year ago.

A year earlier, Paroma, Manish, and their only son, Suborno, were on their way to Darjeeling for the Puja holidays. Suddenly, a truck driver, drunk and out of control, crashed into their small car. Paroma and Manish survived the horrific accident, but their beloved son, Suborno, did not.

Meanwhile, Suborno walked into the bedroom and approached the corner where a picture of his parents, Paroma and Manish, was hung. He bowed down to the picture, paying his respects. The memories of that tragic accident flooded his mind.

That same day, a year ago, Suborno, along with his parents, Paroma and Manish, was on his way to Darjeeling for the Puja holidays. Out of nowhere, a truck driver, intoxicated and reckless, lost control of his vehicle and rammed into their small car. The accident claimed the lives of Paroma and Manish, leaving Suborno as the only survivor.

Afterwards, it was his uncle and aunt who took him in and raised him. They moved to the same Vinayak Apartments where Paroma and Manish used to live with their only son, Suborno.