Beyond the Mysteries... [PART ONE OF THE SERIES]

Inferno Act One

Inferno is the first story of the series and will be published in three acts. This is Act One. Please let me know in the comments, how is the story, the presentation and the writing. I hope you will enjoy.

- Subhrajyoti Modak

ONE

I stepped on the platform of this huge station with two bags: one on my shoulder and another duffle bag hanging from the grip of my right hand, and adjusted my glasses with my left. My heart was beating a little bit faster in my chest, as I stood in my place trying to absorb the magnitude of the organised chaos that was happening all around me.

People were walking from one part to another, some were running to catch their trains, while some were sitting on benches; some porters were carrying luggage on their trolleys, some hawkers were selling their stuff; some cobblers were stitching shoes.

Everyone was doing their jobs in their own pace without being concerned about anyone else and despite that, everything was working like a finely crafted clockwork machine. To anyone else, it was an ordinary day in the Sealdah station, but for me, it was an awe-inspiring moment for a lot of reasons.

I was ruminating all these non-sense, when someone tapped on my shoulder, taking me back to reality.

"Arindam Banerjee, right?", A tall guy, fairly of my age - 18 to 19, with a thin layer of curly beard on his face, and a pair of black framed glasses asked me.

"Yes...", I answered, raising my eyebrows at him. He was pulling a trolley bag with his left hand and his shoulder carried a big guitar case. He smiled at me, stretched his right hand and said, "I am Susanto Roy."

"Yeah, Ma told me about you.", I nodded.

"Hmm... Mine too.", he replied, "Let's go then."

We walked towards the exit of the station, where two black coat wearing ticket checkers were standing and next to them was a bookstore. While Susanto Roy approached them, I went to that store. It was filled with books and magazines: from semi-nude models kissing snakes, to "Wings of Fire", it had everything.

"Looking for porn?", Susanto asked me while showing his ticket to the black coats.

I raised an Agatha Christie book at him and said, "This works for me better than porn.", and to the shopkeeper, "How much for this?" A person like me prefers loneliness with a book than the company of people or pornography for that matter. Though I must confess that during the last two years, it was a vivid collection of pornographic videos that kept me sane while I was inside closed doors, studying for the Medical entrance exams.

Susanto and I walked outside of the Sealdah station. The place was a cesspool for all sorts of professionals: from keychains to cardholders there was a salesman for everything. Right in front of me was an overbridge and under it, salesmen and shopkeepers had cramped their stores like tiny rat holes.

There were a lot of means by which we could go to our destination and all of them, we chose a cab ride. Susanto waved at a yellow ambassador and yelled, "TAXI!!"

* * *

Our cab drove through this great city. Buildings, cars and bikes, traffic police and signals, pedestrians, the obvious eye itching pollution that made me cry; everything about this place, was giving me, this unexplainable vibe of awe, that I, a boy from the suburbs of Kanchrapara, was going to live in this great city -

Kolkata: The City of Joy

It's not only the capital city of West Bengal but also the heart and nerve centre of the culture, every Bengali guy or gal carries in her or his blood. Every citizen of Bengal is somehow connected to this city.