A story by Tarek Khan
Nope!
Today is the day won’t be good probably.
Mano’s mother is shouting so severely in this morning,
that—!
“Hey, the pigs! Ouch! My waist is getting pained again. Oh,
Allah! Where are the sons of a bitch—!” shouting away Mano’s mother.
Straw-like hair and flabby body, brown color Mazhu Bibi, sat
on a mat of date-leaves in the porch, keeping the mouth busy.
I am just worried. I can’t wait here around this uproar. But
I want to meet Mano, my friend. He might be gone to defecate.
A twelve-years-old boy, Saeym, younger son of Mazhu Bibi, is
muttering with his brown lips, “The decrepitude already switched on her rock
and roll. In this dawn. It will be gone all day long. If I had a lock to shut
her mouth up!”
“Hey, pig! What do you say, huh?” Mazhu Bibi enhanced an ear
to Saeym. But she couldn’t hear anything rather than felt pain in waist. She
groaned up, “Oh, Allah! Ugh!”
Saeym cannot bear this noise. He said angrily, “Die! Bitch!”
Then he began to mutter, “Becoming decrepit a folk can be silent, but the bitch
all day long rock-rock roll-roll, going in full swing on.”
He got ready with his red-blue checked pants and a blue
shirt of polyester. Then stepped forward taking two books and a exercise book
from the plank, hanging on a bamboo-fence in the porch. He walked for school
pressing the books under armpit.
“He wants to be educated! “Ho-ho “ha-ha “hey-hey!”
By this time his father, Kholil Pramanik, as tall as thin,
came back home finishing his prayer in the mosque. “What happened in the dawn,
huh?” he said. “The kids of a bitch all day long quarrel. I can’t I bear this.
Why the dog-fuckers don’t go to the hell.”
He got the porch on. Then sat on a cot looking at the pond,
“Where did you go, Bouma?”
“I am here, abba, just coming,” replied his daughter-in-law,
24-years-old Shahida Begom, coming from the pond with a big pitcher, full of
water, on her waist. The poor woman always in struggle to cope with the family.
Kholil put his cap off head to the cot. “The cap is got so
dirty!” he told for Shahida. “If you kindly washed it.”
“Okay, abba!” said Shahida.
Kholil took an another cap from a laundry rope. Then asked
of Sano and Mano.
Shahida noticed a jungle behind the kitchen, “They are over
there!”
She entered into a room to bring Kholil a plate of parched
rice and some dried treacle.
Three to seven years old three sleeping kids in a room are
already aware to copy all sounds. The environment of the morning is uploading
in their DNA, traditionally. Like their father and uncles; like their
grandfather and granduncles!
Kholil shouted out suddenly, “Where did the dog-fuckers go,
huh?”
“One went to be learned,” said Mazhu Bibi. “Two went to
defecate. Don’t shout.”
At first Sano, a little later Mano, came out of the jungle
with the jars in their hands. They left the jars in a corner of the kitchen.
Then the husband of Shahida, Sano, went to cowshed between kitchen and paddy-house.
He will go to the cropland with the cows and plow to cultivate.
Mano came to the courtyard. He stood tall leaning against a
pole. His eyesight going to the sky over the arch of a thatched roof of their
bamboo house. The sky is burning with the rows of red flowers of cotton trees.
The flowers made his mind red.
I stepped toward him and looked alike. But my eyes came back
instantly. So, I looked at his face. He said, “If I get out with you, father
may be angry. So, you go at first. Then I’m coming a little later.”
“That’s right. I also think so.”
I looked at Mazhu Bibi with my bored eyes before stepped.
She is shouting away continuously. No symptom to stop.
“How many days am I calling, appealing, please, take me to a
healer, or any other exorcist, but nobody cares me a bit!” Mazhu was just
whining; all of a sudden became angry looking at Mano. “Hey, son of a bitch!
Why do you stare at the sky, huh? Ugh!” she groaned up. “Won’t you take me to a
healer?”
Mano was almost obsessed with the red flowers. He shouted
angrily, “What happened to the decrepitude?” He wanted to take her to a healer
day after tomorrow. But she’s whining always. He was going to say something
more, but Kholil added suddenly, “As the horny hooker! In the morning why does
she…!”
Mazhu whimpers and expects Shahida to be discharged. She
cannot move without a helper. But she cannot call Shahida because of a quarrel
at last night. So, she increases to whimper.
In the kitchen Shahida washed a pot of rice and lighted a
firewood into the oven. Then went to Mazhu Bibi. She stood up holding her hand.
This time two kids came running from a bed. They clutched
Shahida stretching their four hands out. As their father and uncles had done in
their ages.
The younger kid began to nag. “What happened, gold-bird?”
asked Shahida.
In fact, nothing. So she snubbed him away. Then feels angry. She
has to help Mazhu for everything with bathing and pissing. As a consequence,
it’s late to cook and late to send food to the cropland. The result is, her
husband beats her with a bamboo-staff, coming back from the cropland. Ifs,
ands, or buts never considered.
By this time Kholil was eating parched rice with treacle and
following Mano repeatedly. He became bored watching him standing tall. “Hey,
son of a bitch! Why don’t you go to the field?”
Mano looked shocked up. He walked away quickly taking a hand
grubber from a corner of the porch. But he hid it into a bush besides of the
walkway. Then got the house on through the backdoor that he had opened early.
He came out wearing a red shirt and walked through the
jungle. He will go for Kobita and wait under a cotton-tree, full of
red-flowers.
Today I will join him as a soul-mate.
As he whistled with his tongue, I came out from our house.
Then met in a garden of mango.
We went to the cotton-tree and began to wait under its
red-flower, on the side of a dust-flown soil-way, near the Master-Home in
Sikdar Bari.
We keep our eyes at Master-Home, the home of Khalek Master,
a school teacher. Now his wife Amena Begom is busy to rule their daughters. The
elder one is Kobita, a student of class eight.
She will go to school along this way.
Mano stared at Master-Home. I looked at Mano. He is not
okay; everyday stands here before the school starts and after it ends, while
Kobita walks along here.
Mano wants her. My heart rate goes high.
Kobita is my classmate. I see her clear. A butterfly flying
always. Now flying to the house getting bathed from the pond. Her mother said,
“Horse race? Going a horse race on?”
Kobita entered into a room to their wooden house.
Mother Amena was sweeping the courtyard with a broom of
coconut-leaf-stick. She threw the broom angrily. Then shouted, “What a trend of
my daughter, huh! How many times did I tell you, a girl should not run so
fast?” She got the porch on, “Hey, don’t you want to live with a husband?
That’s your manner and behavior growing up day by day, who’s coming to marry
you, huh? My feeling isn’t okay at all. But the girl is day by day…Ugh!”
Amena rules her daughters strictly. Kobita cares her
seriously. But her mind gets desperate often and again. Her blood, as if a
fountain, moves in absent of her sense.
Amena entered into a room where her husband, Khalek Master,
getting ready for school.
“Hey!” she shouted out a loud. “Why don’t you listen to me,
huh? Don’t you care me? I say, the girl is grown up enough! Settle her a
marriage immediately. But, you…!”
Khalek was wearing his white pajamas and panjabi in silence.
He left the room. Then rode his bicycle. He’s bored a little. There is no
feeling to speak to Amena. The wife getting angry and quarreling day by day.
Like another uncultured women! Khalek went away talking his own mind.
Kobita cannot bear the situation. Why does she get out of
control every now and again; why not cold always. She feels pain. Then liked to cry when
the algebraic theories got ‘lost’ that she had memorized in the dawn.
She is worried to reflect her teacher in the school. If the
students fail to carry homework out, teacher beats the lads with cane and
neglects the girls: you the girls are going to husband-home! So,
hitting-beating is meaningless.
With the exception of Kobita knows, as her father says, a
future engineer must learn her math clearly. But the algebraic theories are so
complicated! And the geometry! How to memorize them!
Getting ready for school, she opened a book and took a look
at some theories. Then stepped forward. Like a thief. Like a snail. In order to
the soil not to feel the girl’s existence.
Kobita is coming slowly, lonely, holding the books pressing
over the chest.
My heart rate went high seeing her in a distance. We stepped
backward; stood aside a tree. “Today I want to solve the problem,” said Mano.
“I can’t keep standing tall here all my lifelong.” Mano cannot bear the
situation. “But, what the way is? The pussy doesn’t care me ever!”
Mano is getting unsteady, desperate.
Kobita came up near. Her earrings danced up before my eyes.
My lungs are rampant. I entered into the jungle. But I hear her anklets sound.
I can hear it tuning up. I can see, she is running in the corridor, lawn, and…!
Mano jumped forward; stood up like a fence. Kobita halted
back with shaking heart. But in a moment she lifted her eyes up and became
hard, “Leave my way, or else…!”
“Or what? What do you do, huh?” said Mano.
The day was a day on what day Mano became angry so easily.
Kobita tried to damp down her anger. She planned to share
the subject with someone. But, who. She knew, whoever s/he, would say her, ‘You
the girl is not okay. So the lads come to you!’ Kobita feels like to cry. She
said, “It’s my school-time. Now leave me. I shall talk you later.” She turned
around to move.
By this time Mano said, “I love you. I can’t live without
you!”
The words of ‘son of a cultivator’ made Kobita so angry that
she forgot to move. And her face became dark.
“Ant having wings to die!” she told strictly. “Today I shall
show you how many head and shoulders above you.”
Mano wasn’t ready to bear the insult. He got too hot to
think anything. He grasped her tightly. Kobita didn’t think ever, something
would be happened like this. So, she was too puzzled to do something.
Mano pressed a hand on her mouth and dragged her into a big
bush.
I kept myself standing tall behind a tree. My hands and legs
are trembling. I didn’t think of anything what could be done with Kobita.
Kobita means poem, poetry. Mano loves her! What does love mean. He wants to
marry her. The ‘marry’ means...!
And…Poem…Poetry…Kobita…!
Oh! No meaning never ever reflected ago in my conscious
mind!
What do I do now.
I don’t know.
I only think what a punishment Mano deserves and going to
suffer very soon. Doesn’t he know it? Of course! So, why does he do this.
Doesn’t he think Kobita is not Akli?
Over and above, what do I do now. What’s happening over
there. Is it a nightmare?
Ugh! I couldn’t realize to scream out. Mano ran away from
the spot. Kobita is half nude, lying on the soil with her face downward. No, I
don’t know what to do. I am just shivering. My lungs jumping peaks and valleys.
I looked hither and thither. Mano isn’t here or there.
Can I leave Kobita in this situation.
No.
Can I stay here.
No.
At that moment a group of school-going lads and girls were
coming along this way. So I got back keeping silent and tried to think whether
I would be school now. This time the lads and girls screamed out together
following the scattered books.
I ran for home.
My mother was boiling paddy in a big mud-pot on a earth-oven
in a corner of home-yard. She chased me with a bamboo-stick, “Hey, shukorer
baachchaa…son of a pig!”
Mano’s mother calls him ‘shuor’. My mother calls me
‘shukor’. We’re gentle than Mano’s family. Kobita’s family is more gentle than
ours. During the first period of my language, I was always confused whether I
was a shukor (pig) or Shukur.
When I follow my mother, I’m her Shukur Ali; when I don’t,
I’m her shukor or shukorer baachchaa.
Mother is shouting, “Eating a dish in the morning where did
you go to die without going to school, huh? I can’t understand why the pig
doesn’t like the school.”
I told, “Just going!”
“What do you mean by ‘going’? What time is it now, huh?”
Mother left me after a few minutes of rebuke.
Now, should I go to school. Yea, I should please my mother.
But, if I go late, teacher must beat with cane. So, as I have a good idea, I
get ready with books and walk.
Mother saw me going school. Now she is pleased. But I left
the books into a basket in the back porch. This time a big uproar overflowed at
Sikdar Bari. Now the ‘uproar’ is going to Molla Para. I’m sure the whole Sikdar
Bari going to Molla Para. They are crazy to punish Mano Molla.
I am also afraid. If Mano says my name!
Should I hide.
I climbed a coconut tree up with a machete and hid over the
leaves. Now stay calm and eat coconut. Sitting here I can hear the people in
the yard.
After a few hours of hullabaloo around the village, an old
woman told my mother, “Mano went into hiding somewhere unknown.”
On the other hand, Kobita's cousins and uncles made a
decision in a meeting, they must find Mano out and cut his penis off. How does
he dare to look at a girl of Sikdar Bari.
A group walked through the croplands for the village of Kota
Khali, another group paddled a boat in the river, the other group walked
through the villages.
They found Mano in the village of Kota Khali, home of his
maternal uncle, Sholu Dofadar.
“Dofadar, you must send Mano home!” said Harun Sikdar, uncle
of Kobita.
Dofadar replied quickly, “Sure! Give us a date.”
“What do you mean by date?”
“Don’t you want to arrange a marriage? You know, my nephew
loves your niece!”
“Do you like to make a fun of us?”
“I just request you, Sikdar, don’t be so much egoistic. What
did you think? You ordered me coming my home and I would send my nephew?”
Harun is silent.
“I just like to say, better way is, arrange a marriage!”
“No way, Dofadar. It’s impossible.”
“I am just a stupid, what happened to Sikdars!” told Sholu.
“Didn’t you hear, your father had kidnapped your mother? Your maternal uncles
didn’t like your father. But your father married your mother. And…there are so
many examples!”
“Time is changing, Dofadar. Kobita’s father is an educated
man. Kobita going to school. She will go to college and university.”
“However,” Sholu requested them to have a lunch. But they
refused. They went back and began to wait. Waiting For Penis.
Mano stayed out of the way for two weeks at his relatives.
Then thinks, how many days the folks can cherish the anger in their mind. Once
afternoon he moved for home. He doesn’t know, all dear ones of Kobita waiting
impatiently. They know how many days a man can stay far from home. They are
always ready to catch and cut.
Mano entered into the village after evening.
Everything is veiled under dark. No sound heard from anywhere.
It seemed everybody slept. Mano walked without fear. But when he reached at the
area of Mollik Bari, somebody asked, “Who is over there at this night?”
It was Mandar Sikdar, uncle of Kobita.
Mano got startled. Anywhere tiger night is there. He ran off,
but Sikdar focused his torch.
“Hey, this is our Mano, huh?” Sikdar shouted out loudly,
“Hey-y-y! Mano has c-o-m-e! Wake up! Wake up! Mano has c-o-m-e! Wake u-p-!”
Wow! What a pleasure! The whole Sikdar Bari jumped up with a
big ballyhoo.
Over a dozen of young men punch and thump him; blow and fist
with a great joy. But it’s not enough. They took him away to an empty house.
They tied his hands and legs up with two ropes. Then they went for a meeting,
shutting the door up.
Mano was worrying, what a mistake he did coming back to the
village very soon.
A group of folks came back. One asked, “Hey, bastard! Where
did you go by this time, huh?”
Another one, “Did you think, would be safe escaping from the
village?”
“Why do we need this ear hustle? Just cut the penis off and
leave the hell out.”
“Okay! Catch the motherfucker!”
Three young men seized him firmly like a goat before
slaughter. Someone tied his mouth with a long napkin. Another one got ready
with a sharp knife that glazed over the light of kerosene lamp.
Mano was exhausted. He kept his eyes closed and tried to
shout, but just a little gurrroo-aaa-asss. And the young men burst into
laughter. “The motherfucker wants to shout, huh? “ha-ha “ho-ho “hey-hey!”
Two young men pulled his two thighs to the opposite sides.
The knifeman bent down to the penis.
“What happened, huh? What do you do?” Somebody was bored
getting late. Two left fingers clutched the penis and the knife just kissed it.
Then “ha-ha “ho-ho “hey-hey!”
Two fingers raised the piece of penis over his eyes. Mano
was known what happened. But he couldn’t believe it. So he opened the eyes.
Again a round of “ha-ha “ho-ho “hey-hey!”
Mano made his eyes bigger than usual. That jumped and stood
up every now and then, now on hand of Bokul, a cousin of Kobita.
Mano cannot believe it. How does he do. He sees it before
getting pained on crotch. Feeling of emptiness vaporized in the heart that
makes him nervous. The dark arrives at eyes; then spreads through the skull. He
saw it before swooned. And the young men continue to ha-ha ho-ho. But they had
to stop ‘in due course’ when the Mollas attacked suddenly and burnt a big
house.
All Sikdars got scattered.
Molla Sano, elder brother of Mano, roared, “Seize the pigs!”
The Mollas entered into the alleys, yards and houses. They
use their machetes and spears at a venture to the fence of house, cows, men and
women.
The Sikdars tried to get ready, but the Mollas didn’t give
them any chance.
Romping Saeym is more excited. He cannot believe that a man
can lose his penis. And, this man is his brother! He moves with a ramda raising
over head and chops down some doors of houses and two cows.
They rescued cutting penis Mano without any obstacle.
But the Sikdars got ready by help of Mondols before the
Mollas reached home. No group couldn’t do something good because of dark. So
they began to get ready for tomorrow morning. Then the real game will be
boosted up.
Two groups will roar gathering two sides in the field of
school with cane shields, spears, machetes, and ramda.
“Hey the motherfucker! Come on!”
“You motherfucker! Come on, asshole!”
All of a sudden one will be excited to run to attack; then
everybody attend to chop and slit aimlessly; left and right and front; as he as
who can. Cutting-fighting will be gone hour after hour before a death.
B u t.
What the asshole Shantu vai is talking about; lecturing
continuously coming in the dawn. “Cut me first, then each other!” said Shantu
going to Molla and Sikdar. “How many years do you like to do this
killings-beatings each other?”
What a cock-blocker! How can they bear! But nobody cannot do
anything refusing Shantu, a local leader, who was a freedom fighter on
Independent War In 1971. “Killings-beatings have been enough for a hundred of
years! Now it’s time to build the country up.”
Ugh! It’s too much!
But he forced everybody to sit for a salis, conciliation by village leaders.
Two groups on two sides and Shantu in the middle; sitting on
the grass. But nobody likes to open his mouth. They’re not agree with the
fucking arbitration.
I had sat in a corner with another boys. But I left
silently, if Mano told that I was with him! As I passed the school-yard,
somebody called me. I hid on the opposite of a cotton-tree. Then my father
roared, “If again you name of my son…!”
A hullabaloo was growing, but Shantu stopped them, since
Kobita didn’t tell my name. “Did she tell the name of Shukur Ali?”
“No!”
Again everybody is silent.
This moment Kobita is worrying leaning against a mango-tree
behind their kitchen house.
Almost everybody discusses, everything’s for Kobita. “What a
piece this woman is! “You know about Sita, Draupadi, Helena, Cleopatra!”
Oh! How can Kobita bear this! It can’t be accepted by any
means, she thinks, why doesn’t she commit suicide.
Shantu vai served the enraged villagers his cigarette packet
as he does when he attends to any arbitration. But the villagers feel shame to
take. “We smoke bidi, hookah!” told one.
“So, take a taste of cigarette!”
The cigarette packet walks from hand to hand. Almost
everybody feels free a little. “Now come on, brothers! Don’t be angry anymore!”
Shantu starts slowly. “When you kill one, and his dear ones cry, don’t you feel
any pain? When you kill a son or a brother, don’t they kill yours? Killing,
beating, and crying! What a life! How many times would you do these like the
beasts?”
Then he reminded that this village was called a ‘land of
robbers’ before nine years. He doesn’t tell that the most of the villagers were
robbers! But the villagers know what does he mean.
After The Independent War, Shantu changes the name into
Shimulgao, a village of cotton flower; and establish this school, Shimulgao
Primary And High School so that the villagers understand what is robber, what
is beast, and what is life!
Khalek master cannot bear his lecture. He thinks to leave
the arbitration-meeting. He regretted that he had come back to the village
leaving a good job at Dada Match Factory in the city of Khulna.
Shantu was saying, “This year we’re going to start our
modern irrigation system; high quality seed process plant too; and…!” This time
Khalek master stood up and walked.
Shantu jumped up to stop him. “Please, master!” he caught
hold of his arm. “If a man like you…please, master, don’t leave me!”
Khalek is silent. Shantu said, “Just tell me what the
verdict do you want, I shall do it by this evening.”
Khalek is silent. He couldn’t say what to do with the
‘stupid verdict’ rather than he heard:
“Hey, Kobita, what happened?”
“Ghost caught her down!” told one; then another, and the
others. Everybody believed.
A few days ago Badol had raped Saleha. Somebody saw. Almost
everybody guessed right. “Yeah!” said Saleha, “A ghost came to me, and…!”
Kobita cried out a lot, “Mano has…!” What a stupid girl!
Khalek cannot bear. Now everybody blames not only Kobita, her family too. “What
the parents! Can’t take care of a daughter!”
Everybody staring at the family! Khalek knows! Shantu shook
him up, “Be a little hard, master, please!”
Nevertheless, Khalek sees clear as his plan, two bullock
carts picking the stuffs up, everything they use in their lives. The neighbors
crowding on the porch and yard. Amena, Kobita and her two sisters are wearing
cloths, getting ready, getting an another cart in, and Khalek master on his
bicycle. Going through the villages, passing through the paddy-fields one after
another; then the bus stand at Narail Victoria College.
In the long run in the city of Khulna after a bus journey
for three hours. Numerous townies. Who to look at you. There is a chance to
build a new circle of friends up.
“Please, master, let me tell something!” Shantu tried to
motivate him. “We must cultivate our souls; all souls in the country. We must
have a good culture; nobody feels like to dishonor Kobita, or any other girl.”
All of a sudden a hullabaloo rose up in Sikdar Bari. Then a
heart-rending scream and wail. The whole assembly ran away raising more
hullabaloos with a question, what happened.
Somebody told, Kobita committed suicide!
I can’t understand what do I do now. Should I go there where
the whole village broken down within a moment. My heartbeat going up and down.
Should I go too. But I’m afraid. I just ran away and went home.
My school stuffs were scattered. I gathered them into a jute
bag. “What’re you doing?” asked mother. I told, “I’m going to aunt.”
Aunt Saila wants me. She says always, “You must be a stupid
laborer or a robber like your uncles and cousins, if you stay in Shimulgao.”
Mother is delighted that her calf is going to Saila at last.
“But, what’s the hurry up!” surprised Mother looking at me,
“Would you please wait a bit before your father came?”
“No!” my heartbeat going high.
“And your classmate, how nice the girl was, committed
suicide due to a bastard!” mother told me. “You should go to see her last
time!”
My heart burst into tears in pain. Her earrings swing away
before my eyes. Butterfly running, earrings swinging. I can see her clear,
Kobita is hanging to a rope-noose with a mango tree behind their kitchen house.
I just yearned for a glimpse of her earrings swinging. How
can I go to see her dead body. How can I believe something unlike.
Original in Bengali, Notun Dhara, 25th
Issue, November 2011, Dhaka. Translated by Writer.
—The End—