The Leaning Post - A short story by Aranyak Saikia

In the heart of the village, embraced by rolling hills and cradled by the meandering river, a leaning light post stood sentinel, silently narrating the tapestry of life.

Its stoic tilt told a tale woven in threads of history and the whims of fate, an enduring story that began when the villagers yearned for the radiant glow of electricity. Decades ago, when the prospect of electrification ignited hope in the hearts of the village

residents, the decision to install light posts in the central square was met with eager anticipation. Workers, fuelled by the fervour of progress, set out to bring the brilliance of electricity to every corner of the village.

The construction of the light posts progressed under the watchful eyes of the villagers. Yet, in a twist of fate and an unpredictable moment, one worker lost his footing on the uneven ground. The post, poised to stand upright and illuminate the central square, instead leaned to one side. A momentary deviation from the plan birthed the leaning light post, an unintended monument to the unpredictability of life.

The villagers, initially dismayed by the post's lean, soon embraced its unique character. Rumors about its origins circulated like whispers on the wind. Some believed a fierce storm had swept through the village, challenging the stability of the nascent installation. Others thought the nearby river, in its silent erosion, had gradually tilted the post but not enough to topple it. Regardless of the cause, the leaning light post stood tall, slightly bent, a silent participant in the life of the village.

As the seasons changed, so did the activities around the leaning post. Night after night, it bore witness to the clandestine gatherings of drug addicts seeking refuge in its shadows. The rhythmic hum of their ritualistic activities became an unwelcome soundtrack against the backdrop of the silent village. Amidst the murmur of their hushed conversations, the post observed the territorial markings left by passing dogs, defining their domains in the quiet hours.

During the day, life unfolded around the leaning light post. A woman, her pace brisk, walked by each morning. One day, her chain was snatched by a nimble thief who vanished into the labyrinth of the village's alleys. The post, though slightly tilted, stood witness to the unfolding drama, a silent spectator to the ebb and flow of daily life.

The post also became an inadvertent companion to a local vegetable seller. He parked his cart beside it, the prices of his produce meticulously arranged on wooden crates. The vegetable seller, an animated character with a weathered face, regaled customers with stories of the post's origins. He spoke of the storm that had bent it and the resilience it symbolized, turning the post into a living artifact in the eyes of the village.

Seasons turned, bringing with them the challenges and triumphs that marked the life of the village. A major storm once swept through, testing the mettle of its structures and its people. The leaning light post, already slightly bent, weathered the tempest with stoic endurance. While drug addicts revealed in their routine activities near the post, the wailing of families could be heard from afar.

The stormy night became a tale passed down through generations. Elders spoke of the thunder that roared like an enraged deity, lightning streaking across the sky like celestial scars. Families huddled together, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on their faces as the storm raged outside. In the central square, the leaning post stood as a silent witness to both the chaos and the resilience of the village.

Amidst the tranquility of the village, tragedy struck when a linesman lost his life attempting to repair damaged wires in the leaning pole. The village mourned the loss of one of its own, and the wailing of families now echoed not only during storms but also in memory of the linesman who had given his life to keep the lights on in the village.

As the years rolled on, discontent with the tilted stance of the leaning light post grew. Many villagers, unsatisfied with its crooked posture, petitioned the government for repairs. The cries for rectification reverberated through official channels, reaching the ears of engineers who pledged to restore the post to its upright glory.

Survey after survey, attempt after attempt, the engineers grappled with the challenge. One day, they arrived armed with tools and determination, ready to straighten the post and erase its lean. Yet, the challenge proved more formidable than anticipated. The soil beneath stubbornly resisted manipulation, and the post, a silent witness to the efforts, remained steadfast in its tilt.

Undeterred, another set of engineers took up the mantle on a different day. Hopeful and resolute, they approached the leaning light post with a plan to correct the deviation that had become part of the village's identity. The village waited with bated breath, eager to witness the restoration of the post to its original form. Yet, once again, the post stood unyielding, its tilt a testament to the unpredictability of both nature and human endeavour.

The plan for repair was deferred to the next winter, a promise held in the collective hope of the village. However, that winter never arrived. It became a deferred resolution, a lingering promise that faded into the fabric of the village's everyday life. The leaning light post, once a subject of discontent, now stood as a symbol not only of progress gone awry but also of the indomitable spirit of the village. The villagers, having resigned themselves to the presence of the leaning light, began to see it as a constant companion. It was a fixture in their lives, an unwavering witness to the passage of time, the storms that tested the village's resolve, and the attempts to reshape its history. As the seasons cycled through their familiar patterns, the post continued to stand there, slightly bent but unbowed, a living relic of the village's history and the stories it continued to tell with each passing day.

And so, as you walk past the central square of the village, the leaning light post stands there, a sentinel in the quietude of the village, still slightly bent, still echoing the tales of the village in its stoic posture. The light post, though leaning, stands as a testament to the strength of the village and its ability to find beauty in imperfection, resilience in the face of challenges, and continuity in the ever-changing dance of life

About the author

Aranyak Saikia is a 2020 batch officer of the Indian Administrative Service borne on Assam-Meghalaya cadre. Currently, he is posted as ADC I/C Gossaigaon. Prior to joining IAS, he was in the Indian Police Service borne on Karnataka cadre.

He is an alumnus of St.Stephen’s College and Delhi School of Economics and holds a Masters and MPhil in Economics. He is a regular columnist in the Economic Times, Indian Express, Assam Tribune and a contributor to Economic and Political Weekly. He writes in Assamese as well and has about 20 short stories in Assamese and English to his credit. He has a passion for literature and sports especially badminton, football and hockey .