I am 15-years-old. I live with my parents in Golf Green. I have no siblings. I am in Class X. My favourite subject is Physics. Dr Sumit Banerjee is our physics teacher. He is a bachelor and lives in a one-room flat somewhere in Beliaghata. Our Bengali teacher Muktadi is Dr Banerjee's cousin. She lives in the adjacent flat. Muktadi knows that I often visit Beliaghata. My father is a dentist and he has his clinic there. As I was leaving for Beliaghata yesterday, she gave me some books. "Give these to Sumitda", she said and scribbled his address on a piece of paper.
I reached Dr Banerjee's flat around 5 pm. He lived in a shoddy looking building. I was about to ring the doorbell when I noticed that the door was open. The light was on and the room was quite empty. As I looked around I saw a metal box in a dark corner. It was just big enough to accommodate a human being of average height. As I moved close, I noticed that the box had a door which was well bolted. I tried to open the door. After a brief struggle, I entered the box and the door closed, suddenly. Quite on its own. It was completely dark and as I banged the inside wall, I seemed to hit a button. My head began spinning wildly. Suddenly the box was filled with a strange light. I lost consciousness.
When I came to, I found myself near the Sealdah flyover. Everything seemed different, strangely new. And then I saw him. He looked like me. He walked like me. And then I suddenly understood who he was. We were near Dr R Ahmed Dental College. And my double was actually my father who was a student at the college. We were in the mid 70s, I guessed. Dr Banerjee had built a time machine and I had unwittingly become a time-traveller.
I decided to speak to my father. Gathering all the courage at my disposal I spoke. "Ranjanda, its evening now. Why have you not returned home?" Dad appeared puzzled. He surveyed my face closely and started moving towards the bus-stop. I followed him. A group of eager looking boys appeared from under the flyover and started talking to Dad. They took out cigarettes and all of them started smoking. Now, I am allergic to smoke. I decided that these boys must be stopped or I would start coughing badly. As I ran towards them, one of the boys, a tall fellow pushed me. I nearly fell. Then, another boy who wore glasses, kicked me. Someone else punched me hard. I started throwing my fists wildly. And then it happened. I hit my father accidentally on the face and he fell down. He appeared to have lost consciousness. But somewhere deep down I was scared that I had killed my own father. I bent down and started shaking him. "Dad,", I said, "I am sorry. Get up, please!" We were now surrounded by at least a hundred onlookers and someone mentioned the word 'Police...". I was about to say, "I am really sorry..." when I felt water being splashed on my face. I was in Dr Banerjee's room again. The metal box had disappeared. Dr Banerjee was standing before me, bucket in hand. The bucket's contents, probably tap water, had been used on me. I handed Dr Banerjee his books and left quietly. Was that really time travel? I guess I'll never know!
