Fires of Faith Zakir Talukder Translation- Ali Ashraf Natun

Fires of Faith

Zakir Talukder

Translation- Ali Ashraf Natun

Published in MM on July 18, 2007

Lehajuddin is kept fallen with his hands and legs tied hard. His mouth and eyes remain uncovered. So if he needs, he can cry aloud. But he does nothing. He is not lamenting. He expresses nothing at all. A terrible shade of bewilderment prevails on his eyes. He is put half bent. The ground below is too cool to burn his feet. The sun has been out of view for three days. The biting cold air of Poush is blowing. Those who own television or those who read newspaper know the temparature is now below 6 degrees. Thatï¿½s why when Lehajuddin has been dropped here beaten, he must have experienced burning touch. But now it is over. The part of his body touching the ground has already become senseless. Due to such fastening rope his hands and legs are tinged. His bare body seems black stained. The sign of blows and knocks only. Blood dropped out of nose and lips has dried up and sticky. A blackish line has come down from the nose and lips up to his chin like the burrowed soil of earth worm.

It is true Lehajuddin is not anxious about the matter at all. He is thinking about the next action. It is also unknown to those who will sit for enhancing judgment. The mob likes to impose stern punishment after their first instantaneous attack- Kill the damned. Bury him half and let the dog tear and enjoy him alive! Burn the wretched! Destroy his abode and his offspring.! They are now thinking seriously about the second phase of punishment which must be exemplary for all. After hearing the story who dares commit the same sin in the whole universe! But the problem arises over its being a religious issue. Since the matter provokes religious reaction, it must have some holy guidance. The imams of the mosques of the attached villages who lead the prayers, collect subscriptions reciting the sermons in the loudspeakers and the Title failed teachers of the madrashas are still unable to detect the Fatwa of Scriptures they will impose for such an uncommon sin. The day to day matters that they deal are- molestation, adulterate relationships , stealing, namaj, roza, etc. Even it is not the matter of marriage and divorce. The thought that a human being can commit such an unholy act never comes to their mind. So they can ï¿½t recall any trial and Fatwa over this issue. The sinner must be punished. Itï¿½s a must. An exemplary punishment. Itï¿½s such an act which never enters in a nightmare too. Whoever has heard about it he has run terror torn. The man whose mouth is never free from the smell of liquor or the branded thief who has eight years confinement or the hermaphrodite who dances to be a funny companion of the heroine in an opera or the lewd who discards his own family to live in some prostitution or the secretary of a mosque committee who commit theft of the money collected for the development has become stupefied as soon as they have heard the incident.

The next door neighbor of Lehajuddin is Shawal Bibi who has looked for him as his son. It is she who has made the complaint- Lehajuddin has burnt the Quran to warm his hands. Hardly had he took up the Quran when Shawal Bibi lost her sense shouting highly. And it is her shriek which has helped the villagers to hold him red handed.

Burning the Quran to warm a human hand! So heinous a sin! O wicked! Donï¿½t you have the fear of eternal life? O imprudent! Sinful worshipper of Satan, Donï¿½t you keep a bit horror of the wrath of God. The collection of paradigm has come from Allah direct and that will safeguard the creation If a single word of the holy Guide is placed on one scale and the total creation on the other, the later will weigh less. And the whole of the creation is just a leaf of grass to a single word. Without the book eighteen thousands creatures would be buried down in the dreadful sea. The book is still saving the whole of the universe. You burnt this great Book!

O fiend! Look, look with open eyes. Only for your misdeeds the total habitants are terror stricken. All are horrified waiting for the forthcoming punishment. Your crime is so unprecedented and imprudent. The watchful angels will continue writing your sins up to the Doomsday . Today itï¿½s for you, only for you all the people in this region are fallen in the Sind of sorrows. You must be destroyed! We canï¿½t allow you to pollute our innocent ground anymore. Let him perish from the eyes of the sacred people !

Oh God! The Creator of the seen and the unseen, Oh the Almighty, you must not be furious at us. You are the greatest of all judges. Donï¿½t feel angry with all of us, please. It is done by just a single being. We must take revenge against such an evil all together. The soil on which this unholy incident took place declares Your sayings victorious. The decision is fixed, firm and final forever .

Dear readers, readers of sacred words, hearing this heart rending incident your soft minds bleed profusely. We realize you are in utter pathos. Come, let us forget the rope tied sinner for a few seconds. Let him await the ordeal proposed. Better enter into another scene.

Zamila, having returned home went to the grove of plantain. Last night Zamila was engaged in Altab Khanï¿½s house. She had to clear the labor of the second daughter. Earlier she had touched the oil to the pregnant girl. Now days there is crisis of begetters even in the village not only that there are about four or five Dais (wit nurse/ foster mother who helps progenitors to bear child out) in the attaching villages. Some of them are trained governmentally too. If any Dai fails to attend any call, she is sure to lose the house. Therefore nobody fails to attend the call and works up to the clearing of womb. So Zamila was called for last night. It took the whole night and even the next day. However the delivery was a success. Allah is merciful and kind to do her work. The pain was continuing long abnormally. Zamila got worried. It was probably a clipped delivery. The male and the other females turned impatient. Now and then Aftab Khan enquired- Zamila, can you do it? Do we need to go hospitals? Is it necessary to call Dr. Khogen in? He may push saline.

Zamila was in another thought. If any family slips from her clasp and if it turns to Dr. Khogen she will get no more chance. She retorted rather confidently- If Allah does not think so, you shouldnï¿½t think it any more. And if it seems so, I must inform you. However the baby was born well. Before lapping the grandson over Aftab Khan, she picked up a note of one hundred taka. Besides, she would receive a sari and fifty kg rice.

Zamila had planted twenty saplings of plantain in a piece of land attached to her house. They were cost free. She begged them from Kobad master now if she nurses them properly, it will earn her taka two thousand only after nine months.

Reaching the grove, Zamia lost her temper. Before going to Aftab Khanï¿½s house, she had told her husband to weed out the land. But she found no trace of such work. She searched her husband to exclude her anger. But Lehajuddin was nowhere. Then she entered the kitchen quite in anger. The slothful man probably had no food the whole day! If requested Shawal Bibi might have prepared rice and pulse. But Lehajuddin was ever reluctant to do so.

Entering the yard, Lehajuddin laughed heartily- It is you who labored the baby out. I am very happy. You did a great work. Allah must help you.

Zamila has not forgotten the matter of plantain field yet though it is diminished. She stirred the rice pot with her hands impatiently- I told you to weed out the grove so many times! Do you find the work too hard?

Lehajuddin seemed to be ashamed at this- Actually I was making some kulukh ( a small clod of earth to ease oneself after urine or bowels as a Muslim custom) All were finished so needed time to prepare them.

He had learnt this new precept recently. If any Muslim washes his posterior with water only, his body will remain impure. One kulukh is for urine and three for bowels. If not the body will not be clean. His Peer Kebla (spiritual guide) has asserted the necessity again and again. The precept bears fully unchallengeable evidence behind it. This had happened to his Great Peer of his present Peer. Once He used simply water instead of kulukh. Afterwards when He stood on the jainamaj (Mat on which the Muslims Pray) after ozu, it moved away. It was not a simple jainamaj at all because it had been made of the gilaf of the Grand Peer Hazrat Abdul Kader Zillani. So having seen the movement of the jainamaj the Great Peer thought- It must be some tricks of the Devil- Satan Khannas. As soon as he was ready to curse the devil, the jainamaj got voice from the Grand Peer- You are unholy to pray still. You used no kulukh. Donï¿½t stand on the blessed jainamaj so impure.

Lehajuddin hummed-

The jainamaj cried out in tears not to touch

Oh Peer, you are yet so impure!

Performing ozu without kulukh

How dare are you to pray on?

Everything on earth is only to declare his glory. Everything. Donï¿½t you understand dear beings? If He wishes, He can do anything only with a flow. The days are not the same as before but we can see the magnanimity of Allah everywhere even today.

Some hard words were nearly peeping out. She does see the sign of the Almighty through out her life. The male of the house does not do any work He earns nothing though he enjoys all the fruits. The house is run year to year somehow. This is the blessing of Allah! Zamila checked herself breaking these hard nuts. She knows it very well that no rebuke will change her husband. He may be ashamed to some extent but no benefit it will bring. The man is always very simple. Besides he passes his years only on Peer, Dervish, Allah and His Prophets. Even at his early youth he has avoided work. The maintenance of a family with two daughters was so difficult. And Zamila knows it well. She has already married her daughters off. After shouldering all the responsibilities alone Zamila feels free. They are only two now. The days will run as long as she is able.

Lehajuddin never talks of anything persistently. No quarrel he has ever caused. He lives in his faith. He observes the workmanship of Allah everywhere. If anyone asserts any incident of mystery, he believes it unquestionably. Once he heard the name of Allah was found inside the middle of a potato in Bogra . He rushed there . Again when he listened an unknown grave rose up in Ghoraghat, he hastened to see it full of belief. However Zamila has to pay the fare required for bus or train. But if the place is near like four or six miles, he goes there on foot. In that case Zamila gets another problem. She has to massage the paining feet of Lehajuddin with some mustered oil. Her neighbour, Sawal Bibi laughs at this saying- Why do you sacrifice so much on such a coward?

Lehajuddin put the earthen clods on a piece of tin over the thatched roof. He proceeds there to bring them down. On firing the boiler, Zamila says- whatever you do, kulukh or anything else, you must weed the field. The saplings may turn dwarf if you do not do it.

Lehajuddin gives her assurance- I must weed tomorrow.

This village meets newspapers also. Television has come earlier. After the evening a battery charged television is started for all in the veranda of the Union Council. Only a few days ago, the villagers shut their doors and slept immediately after the nightfall. At present many of them arrive at the Council. They enjoy betel or biri (local made cigarette) and watch dance, music. Dramas and movie up to the middle of night. Not only that, some women are found sitting in the corner of the veranda.

It is now known to all- the news is cast at 8pm with the activities of the kings and ministers, home and abroad. They can even analyze some national issues. Women know dramas are timed on Tuesday and Thursday after the news. How charming the actors and the actresses look! How exquisite their make ups are! Zamila watches TV too especially when she is not called for any delivery.

But Lehajuddin never goes there. He is forbidden to watch TV by his Peer Kebla. It shows physical movements of some unknown women. It is a great sin. His Peer Kebla has added- Television is a creation of Allah. You see things activated from far away. Allah has a special television too. His television is the whole universe. He observes what His beings are performing on earth. Accordingly the angels count our sin and piety. Earthly television telecast a few hours but Allahï¿½s television does it forever.

Lehajuddin watched the television only once. The Hindus of India had broken Babri Mosque. What a sentimental issue that was! Everybody went there to watch the heartrending incident. Lehajuddin was there though he could not observe it to the end. Tears filled her heart profusely.

Mean time there gathered a crowd of about fifty people. Nekbar Mollah was the leader. Suddenly a slogan was chanted ï¿½ Narae Takbeer! (Allah is great)

Wiping out his eyes L found the crowd full of supernatural vehemence. Spears and sticks were handed over to all. Nekbar Mollah shouted- Come forward, brethren, if you bear a drop of blood of a Muslim, you must join us! Someone handed a bamboo stick to Lehajuddin

The crazy mob rushed to the Hindu village. The first house was Maladhorï¿½s . There was a furnace where lime was made of burnt shells extracting from snails. The lime of Maladhor is very popular. It enhances taste to beetles. With the forceful strikes the earthen furnace, pots and dishes turned into pieces. The snails became dust with the heavy footsteps. Then came the houses of the fishermen. They live on catching fishes. No one has ever seen more than one dhuti or lungi they can wear. Even in the coldest nights they search fish with surrounding nets under water. They are the people who have been supplying food with their body full of fishy smell for ages. Suffering from pneumonia cold they die, poisoned by the snakes like Gokhro, Alad or Daras they die. But with the attack of the forceful believers the drying nets on which they solely depended were torn to the least.

Dinu Thakur stood before them with begging hands together. He is the only Brahmin in the village who leads the worshippers. Nekbarï¿½s stick divided his forehead with a single stroke.

Save us! Please save us! Was the heartrending utterance.

Kill the Hindus. Destroy the malaun!

Who could say how long the destruction would continue? A group of young people stood against the force. Toufiq Sona, Akbar. All of them were the young men of the village They roared- Go back, go. Otherwise the hell will befall on you.

Nekbar reacted vehemently- You are the supporters of Hindus!

The youth retorted- The Hindus of India have broken our mosque. It is of course illegal. But what did these villagers do? Tell us. Have they gone to destroy the mosque? They are fully innocent.

The words were true. But Nekbar Molla wouldnï¿½t follow them. He was rather instigating the crowd to be more agitated. The youths turned furious- Donï¿½t dare utter such words. You work like a Molla but your main occupation is interest business. Do you think we understand nothing? How can an interest collector be a true Muslim? If you attempt more, you will meet death.

At this wards Nekbar remained soundless.

Lehaj Uncle, you, too!

The other agitated people were Nekbarï¿½s paid laborers . Having seen Nekbar wordless before the youths, they stopped moving forward .

After that night Lehajuddin never goes before the television. Even he does not watch the holy Hajj telecast live on the TV. It is a very wonderful box. Who knows when it can empower human blood against others!

He had gone to the Hindu area only. He did not use the stick at al. It did not even arrive in the mind of his.. Yet lehajuddin feels ashamed if he meets any Hindu. When he looks at their eyes , he acknowledges they are full of complaint and sorrows. He canï¿½t forget the event for years. Though the people of the affected area have forgotten the matter, and though many could not realize his presence in the darkness, he feels the pangs of inner torture himself. As soon as he enters there, his feet collapse. He has wished several times to beg pardon touching the legs of Maladhor or Dinu Thakur. But he could not do it.

Zamila bears no such anxieties. All the doors are open. And is Zamila for whom Lehajuddin got a chance to resurrect.

It happened with the wife of Mladhorï¿½s son Boddinath. The mother of Maloti always works as a Dai in the Hindu area. But she could not finish the delivery herself. That is why she called for Zamia's help. She seeks Zamia's assistance.

It was shivering cold. The village was covered with deep fog even in the day. The sun was not visible for some days. The villagers wrapped their bodies with all the warm clothes they could manage. Wives and daughters were not leaving the side of cooking fire. They were heating their hands and legs with the bon fires. Without necessity no one were going outside. That time Zamia reached the house and found the pregnant wife fallen on wet ground beside a cow house. She was pale and very sticky in body. The shade was temporarily built with jute sticks. The bed was made upon some locks of paddy corns and a torn kantar (country made blanket of old clothes). She was wearing a rejected sari To remove the acute cold there were a few old patched clothes beside her. No one of the house was allowed to touch the wife!

Zamila could not accept the view of the Hindus. From the beginning of pain a pregnant woman is to lie outside home. Not only that it requires eleven days to stay out for a mother after delivery. In these days no one will touch the mother or the baby! After the days said the mother and the new born baby will be purified and enter inside. In winter they will rather be frozen than be given any warm clothes. And the used items will be burnt too!

Shouting highly Zamila could manage two warm wool wrappers for the paining laborer. Then she approached to the work with Malotiï¿½s mother. The pain had started three days ago though there was no sign of delivery. Nobody except the Dai came near It is sure all were very anxious. The male were waiting long few yards away from the shade. They had also prayed for her. They promised to sacrifice before the Goddess Kali. Their hearts ached at her shrikes too. They sat there quite helpless leaving the total responsibility in the hands of Malotiï¿½s mother and Zamila. And what can they do?

Lehajuddin proceeded to the house full of hesitation. It is many years since he entered the Hindu village. Maladhor stood up and said earnestly- Come, brother. Have you come to take your wife back? Our daughter has not been free yet. The tone of Maladhor was but full of despair.

No. Lehajuddin appeared there not to bring her wife home. Rather he came to help the distressed family. He caught a Morium flower in his hand. He collected it from the Haji bari. The flower was brought from Mokka. It is a very magical flower.

Lehajuddin told them to fetch some water in an earthen pot. Then he put the flower in the water. The Maladhorï¿½s could not touch the flower but they seemed saluting to it devotedly.

Placing the flower in the watered pot Lehajuddin sat beside Maladhor. He was also encouraging them to remove tension. Cold air was biting their body incessantly. But Lehajuddin was careless about it . He felt another kind of warmth inwardly. It was cordiality. It was solidarity. A spirit of liberation from a committed sin. They waited all overnight. He prayed Tahajjot namaj at midnight. Gathering straw Maladhor made a fire to toast the frozen body. They smoke Hukka together. Before Fazr prayer a sound of crying was heard. At long last the baby was born! Along with it all observed the wrinkled flower was in full bloom all around the water of the pot. What a miracle! The expanding flower had cleared the way of womb! Very affectionately Lehajuddin took it on his had and Maladhor saluted it folding his hands fervently. Tears ran down her cheeks in devotion.

On the way back Zamla asked Lehajuudin How did the device come to you mind that Marium flower works even on Hindus.

The song of the Fakir Taju resounded in the voice of Lehajuddin-

He who does not call the names of Allah

Will receive food even then

Though the creation forgets Allah is kind

And gives him food and light to save him.

Baten driver of Altab Khanï¿½s oil mill has been waiting for them with a sari and a bag of rice from the dawn. Zamila looks over it very eagerly. It is not a cheap sari. Itï¿½s design and print match it too. Baten says to Lehajuddin-Khan Shaheb calls for you He has arranged a job for you .

Lehajuddin startles for a moment- Job! But I have not told him anything about it . I did not even want a job!

Zamila interfered- I have told Khan Shaheb.

Lehajuddinï¿½s voice dropped in water- Which job I can do?

Donï¿½t worry. Let the matter be settled later. Have some rice and sleep. After sun rise go and talk with Khan Shaheb.

He passed the remaining night sleepless. With the words of job he fell in such a dilemma that he could not sleep . So he got up early and went to Khan Bari straightly.

Brother, What type of work is it that you manage for me?

The work is not so hard. And it is more easy to Lehajuddin. It is not a full time work also. Only Monday and Friday. The days of local bazaar. A new mosque is being built on a piece of land in the bazaar donated by Altab Khan. The area is already shaded with tin. Namaj is being performed regularly. A new plan has been made to build a pucca building . Lehajuddinï¿½s work is to collect money by urging others on microphone. The job is totally for the development of the mosque. He will invoke some sermons, cite out some religious instructions and blessings . The lessons that Lehajuddin has already learnt are enough. The return is not less. Twenty five percent of a dayï¿½s collection. That is if the collection is five hundred taka he will get one hundred twenty five taka. More attractive matter is he needs no physical labor for the job. He is to start it the coming Friday.

What a misfortune ! The wife has dropped him in such a calamity!

Lehajuddin reaches home spiritlessly. Zamila seems very inquisitive- Which job has Khan Shahib offered you?

Hearing everything Zamila gets highly encouraged- Very nice job! It has two returns- money as well as blessings. Do you know how many people are waiting to get such a job?

Lehajuddin sees ocean of darkness before him. How to save himself? Yes, only the good wishes of his Peer can rescue him.

With the dawn of Friday and after performing Fazr namaj, Lehajuddin fled away.

Whenever he reaches the yard of his Peer Kebla, his heart melts with affection and content. The Peer remains outside sometimes. He pays visit to other murids( follower). If they are detached many days from the Peer, their devotion gets rusted. The Peer washes their mind again. But Lehajuddin faces no problem if the Peer is outside. As soon as he enters the mazar, a celestial reopens before him. The surrounding areas appear purified with the touches of the Peers. The pioneer of the Tarika was the grandfather of the present Peer. He had arrived here from Mokka At that time the people of this region were non believers. He was ordained by Allah in Mokka. He was to establish the supremacy of the Almighty here. He was named Allah Baksh. There were more words added to it e.g. Bin and Ibn But men like Lehajuddin canï¿½t memorize them altogether. So the shortened name Hazrat Allah Baksh was in use to them. He started from Mokka. /there was no airplane then, not even any water ship. He had so many crafts and could walk so long a way. Hot sand of deserts became tender, cold. Having walked long he stopped before high mountains. How could he cross it? He stood on his holy jainamaj and it took him to another side flying. After it he started to walk again. Then came the barrier of deep forest A ferocious tiger arrived there running and took him on his back. Jumping long he finished the jungle fiercely like an Arab horse. Then the tiger returned to its abode . Allah Baksh started walking again. And a sea was there. How to overtake the vast water? The ship was not invented yet. With the name of Allah he moved towards the sea. The sea was divided and an earthen road was made. Even his feet were not wet. at the spots where big ships ever sink vanish away. Only some spots of salt and water were seen under his kharam (wooden sandle).

All are facts. Even today the spotted kharam and the jainamaj made of deer skin are kept in His Mazar.

So came Hazrat Allah Baksh. The nonbelievers with mass soldiers dared not stand against Him. They were scattered like straws. A large number of people recited Kalma (lines of the Quran for the full belief on Allah) The prevalent sound of Shongkho and Ulu paved the way to La Illaha Illallah. !

His life was full of events. The idea or problem that never enters into a human mind, got a quick invention or solution from him It is said that He possessed a special dish. It was covered with a cloth on which some Quranic lines were written. He pushed his hands in to the dish and brought out food. Endless in quantity. It happened many times . A long queue/ line of people waited and He distributed the food among all. They filled their stomachs and He took out food and food.

Unfortunately this dish was not found after his death. The magical dish vanished away. Despite the absence of the dish, the mazar bears many testimonies of his crafts still. At present rice with other things are being cooked twice a day. With the holy blessings the followers regardless their number can get fresh diet day and night. It is certainly the heavenly touch of the previous dish. The supply of food continues though the dish invisible.

Anyway, the absence of the Peer canï¿½t be understood even after His demise. He keeps His traces still. A banyan tree grew up suddenly through the grave. When the grand Peer was placed in the grave, a sapling of a banyan tree pierced out the next day. And only within three days that sapling became so big a tree. His murids believe the tree is spotted at the navel of the Peer. Every leaf of the tree is sacred. And so the tree is the live evidence of His magic power. If anybody denies miracles, let him come here. Let him axe down on the trunk , he must die vomiting blood.

When Lehajuddin comes here , he willingly sweeps the whole are under the banyan tree. Now a days the murids pay little attention to this duties. So the yard remains dirty most of the time. More ever as the tree is a safe abode for bats and other birds, the amount of waste is not less.

Tears run down when Lehajuddin gets in. How dirty the holy place is ! Two months ago yearly Urs has been observed. Ten months are ahead of the next Urs. Therefore the dirt and filth will greatly increase. But Lehajuddin who is always worthless in his own family turns very alert here. Is it is to sweep and wash so much waste? Nobody will assist in the work too. Nevertheless, Lehajuddin finishes them alone. He has come on Friday. It takes him nearly six days to sweep the ground. After the Asr namaj on Thursday, he could finish the divine job. . Then he feels so tired that he takes a bath and feels relieved. Such a mammoth task he has performed! He is growing older. The spirit of youth is on the wane. He lies under a blanket. He falls in a deep sleep fast. It is a sleep of death! The namaj of Mugrib and Esha passes away. His sleep continues. And it in this sleep he meets Hazrat Allah Baksh.

Beforehand he has never seen even the photograph of the Peer. But he acknowledged Him quite clearly. Touching His feet with the hands he saluted. The Huzoor He spoke in a tender voice-I am satisfied with your devotion., Lehajuddin.You are very sincere in the path of Allah. It is very disgusting to watch rotten leaves and animal discharges. You have cleaned my area. You have freed me from this garbage. Now tell me son what you wish to get.

Lehajuddin lost his words in gratitude. Only Blessing Huzur, your kind blessing.

I do bless always , son But I want to award you with some gifts. Some special gifts. What do you want? Speak out.

Lehajuddin is too jubilant- You can give me what you like, Huzur.

No, No, I want to know you liking first.

Can I choose anything!

Yes son, Donï¿½t hesitate. Tell me.

Lehajuddin is in dilemma- Human belly is the number one foe to his belief. If one feels hungry, Satan enters his mind.

Huzur laughs as if He understood everything-O! you want money?.

No, no, I swear- I donï¿½t want money.

Huxur seems at a loss- If not money, what then?

In case of your insistence you can give me the scowl drone, Huzur.

The Huzur is kind enough- Ok, you will get .

His feet get ashamed to return home. Pricks of fear fill his mind. He canï¿½t realize how zamia will react seeing him. He has made her dishonored to Altab Khan Only on her requests Altab Khan agreed to arrange a money collecting job for the mosque. . How does Zamila face him now? Now if she likes to scold him, she will do any wrong? Lehajuddin enters into his house with full preparation.

However Zamila is not at home. Hearing his footsteps Sawal bibi, from the neighbor yard asks- Who is it?

It is I , Aunt.- Lehajuddin is very shy.

Sawal bibi comes out of her room- How is it Lehajuddin, How painstakingly the wife had managed a job and you vanished without any notice! Do you know what an unbearable life a woman leads? And if there the man is like you !

Lehajuddin disregards her words as before- Where is Zamila?

She has gone for a call to the south village. To clear the delivery of Akaluï¿½s wife.

So. he gets few more time to be prepared for.

Zamila returns the next dawn.

Surprisingly, Zamila is not so furious. Lehajuddin, she finds is under the blanket waiting with many excuses and arguments. But she pays no attention to that point. She is rather soft- When did you come? Have you had anything?

Lehajuddin was not ready to hear the words .Getting no similarity between the reality ant fear, he becomes captured spiritless. He finds no words.

Being washed Zamila enters the kitchen. The sound of mixing rice and dal reaches his ears. It reminds him about the miraculous dish of the Peer. Huzur has promised him to give that very cauldron. Though it was dream, the words of the Peer canï¿½t be altered.

He couldnï¿½t control his emotion anymore.. He goes to Zamila and sits by her. He starts with a spirited voice- What a great news I have!

Zamilaï¿½s tone is warmth less- What is it?

You need not burn your hands cooking any more.

Zamila is yet indifferent as before saying-Who will cook for us then?

None. No one needs to do it.

Will we fill our belly with air only?

Not with air. Rice ï¿½ meat-polao-sweet- all that our wish can select.

Afterwards Lehajuddin explains her in detail. Huzur has promised that he would give him the magical dish. We will have no tension for food.. Even we can entertain all the poor who live by our village.

Lehajuddin never speaks so many words at a time. Today being sentimental he told so many things. Zamila has never looked at him. Her hands are busy pushing fire wood in the boiler and the dish of rice. Having seen her not a bit delighted and receiving no inspiration Lehajuddin halts. He examines the face of Zamia critically- Donï¿½t you believe?

In a state of apathy Zamila says- man finds so many things in dream.

Lehajuddin thinks to make her understand, this dream is not the same as that of others. The Huzur has made himself present before Lehajuddin. It is His kind return to Lehajuddinï¿½s firm belief. He is not just a dead man. If so He could not come in oneï¿½s own figure . Though some great Peers are blessed with the power To justify his followers aspirations He has done so. This is called the dream full of device .

This time Zamila snubs- Stop here. There miracles are evaporated from the world. It is time to do work. If one works , he can manage food. If not he is to starve. Drop the story of cauldron.

Lehajuddin finds himself dumb- What are you talking about! No miracles! The world runs without the commands of Allah! No miracles does a Peer possess?

When there Peers, there were supernatural powers. There were prophets there were spiritual activities. As there is no one, no miracle there is.

The words of the wife stroke the believerï¿½s heart as a missile. Are the crafts closed with the death of Peer? Does the blessing of Allah finish from the world ? Lehajuddin claimed it boldly- Never! Allahï¿½s great craft is the Holy Quran. It never burns in fire.

Having memorized the matter Lehajuddin desires to utilize it. He has ever heard from many eye witnesses that buildings may be burnt to ashes but not the cover page of the Quran is harmed with fire. It may at best burn the cover page but a single Arabic letter. Not only Lehajuddin but also many villagers have heard this thing in religious preaching, sermons and stories. Excess it to say, nobody doubts about the matter . Yet something of course something has happened to Zamila. today. She rather challenges to her husband- What an unbelievable thing you talk! If the pages burn, the letter will burn too. Lehajuddin stands up instantly. He has at last got a chance. The power of Allah persists even in this sinful universe. He will prove it just now. As they have no Quran of their own, he needs to go to mosque. Only then it comes into his mind- Sawal bibi has one.

Jumping double pace Lehajuudin enters the room of Sawal bibi. He takes the Quran from the shelf. He hastens to reach the boiler. And Sawal bibi falls down on the yard shouting loudly.

The Wall of Prophet Solomon

We stand before the wall of Prophet Solomon. Our united utterance wishes for his happiness. The wish is not simply customary. The sympathy and the security touch our heart too. We feel endless gratitude for him as its bi product. He has planted the tree of faith and peace for us. So our heartfelt wish can be explained diversely. We- Zamil, Faruk and I represent three classes. That does not mean we are now in absolute form of unity. But the reality makes us think we bear individual heritage of some greater unity. We are only three hands of a triangle though we exploit one another three sections mean difference in blood and view in different lives. Even when we embrace one another we realize impatience/ restlessness under a movable sandbank/quicksand. After crossing the place and the center oriented dilemma we could stand before the wall great wall of Solomon, altogether.

We understand about the other part. There remains the force of destruction. We must keep the wall intact. The symbol of death is so uncontrollable- so non stop! The force seems as unconquerable as the disease leukemia defies all the resistance and the least hope of life and as it spreads cool fear of death through the nerves

We thank God again. He had sent an uncommon Wiseman in our race. He could understand the diagram of nuclear even of stone. The yet hazy darkness of the deep sea or the black untrodden under earth had failed to keep their secrets from his sharp intelligence. Not only that he knew the destiny of death. But he did not foretell them to his fellow beings. We, his inferior followers only pass our time with some answers among the millions of inquisitions. The highly gifted omniscient Man had taught Prophet Solomon about the tricks and the devices of building the wall. He had also protected the only habitat of civilization from the devastation of the destructive angels.

The other part is but very soundy. It seems unclear and low to our ears. It is too tough to detect the character of word. Even it may lead an inattentive to be cheated. But our ears are busy to identify the meaning. We know the tidbits of words. Our forefathers have taught us previously. It is to be listened as some soft and juicy matters produce sound being collided against some hard rocks.

We become able to justify the sound correctly. It blows cool fear in our mind like a ghostly touch. Then we strive hard to keep us normal. We continue to imagine us safe as we observe a lion standing outside of a cage in a zoo. At last our nerves obey our instructions. With the warmth of hormone we get enabled to melt the cold ice of fear.

We try to remain busy. Warm sentences are influential in this regard.

ï¿½I am busy in studying the history of anti autocrat movement So far as it is known; the first voice of the creation against autocracy was of Satan ï¿½ Devil Lucifer. The words of Zamil create special neural feelings. Is he speaking mad? But he bears no sign of irregularities in his face. It is rather enlightened with the glow of thoughtfulness then we turn bound to analyze his words .We try to memorize the background of the making of Devil form Lucifer.

The commandment declared- ï¿½This man made of earth is my representative. You all bow down!ï¿½ Lucifer who had uttered the name of God for fifty thousand years like an endless spring of water and for which he had achieved the leadership for the angels stood immovable. This commandment appeared to be limitless burning of shame because he had already developed the sense of self respect. But God marked this audacity as an unforgiving misdeed and banished him from the heaven for ever. Lucifer got

Satanic image.

Faruk contacted with the sensitive issue before me. He wanted to strengthen the foundation of Zamilï¿½s reasoning ï¿½Yet having all the good qualities God is a dictator. He doesnï¿½t realize any appeal. He only understands unconditional surrender. If He likes followers at His fingers end He may create robot. Then why did He create animal of thoughts?ï¿½

A part of my mind wished to support their view earnestly. But a merciless finger came upward through tissue of my tongue. A hereditary belief of blood-run generations. ï¿½This is not the way to speak It is mechanically simple. That meansï¿½..ï¿½ I kept the word- error silent. Afterwards I circled the matter in another way-ï¿½Try to think about the wall. This wall has been saving the race for millions of years. It happens only at the generosity of God!ï¿½

If so then why did He create the deadly force? Why did He let the beast power stand against the civilization? Why didnï¿½t He allow the race to run freely to the heaven, earth and the underworld collectively?

I remain silent, thoughtful. The destructive force are sharpening their piercing nails the other side of the wall. They desire to root the race out of the universe. Who has planted this unmixed hatred in their mind? And who has enabled them with such a horrible power?

Again we looked at the wall keeping silence. Along with billions of fellow forces they use their sharp tongues as weapons to decay the wall. By sunset the wall will turn into a thin barricade. It will be just as thick as papyrus. Nevertheless God continues to show kindness to earthen men as an endless stream of pity. Before the next sun the wall will be repaid its mountain form again

Just then a sound of sabotage reaches our ears.

No other being ever steps in this valley nearing the wall. No plants grow here either due to some unknown orders. Barren aridness is visible everywhere. No sound we hear except ours. Only a sound of licking stones other side. Doubtless any different sound gives birth to some special significance.

We activate our hearing machine like a deer. This sense becomes ready to catch sounds as radar. Then the sound arrives again. We can guess the nature and possible origin. The sound is metallic. Some metal has stricken the stone of the wall but we all know that the force of destruction is quite ignorant about the performance of metal. They use no limbs except tongue to break wall. We understand instantly some of our race are sabotaging against us. Some want to enhance obstacle against the progress of civilization. They have come forward to make a way for the force.

Our blood moves fast full of contempt. We rush breathlessly towards the source.

Crossing two turns our eyes find them. Our assumption is not wrong at all. A group of people is there with spade and crowbar. Our idea is accurate. Yet we think ourselves, we wished our idea would be wrong. Instead of hatred a sense of crisis obstacles our breathing. They are human beings! Born and grown up with food, water and air of this nature! They enjoy all the privileges of civilization! Why do they desire to destroy their own race? Hatred, anger, disbelief, hesitation awake for few moments and lead us to be the victim, of senselessness. . Presently we can experience the curse of such paralyzed period. One of them struck the crowbar over the unprotected head of Zamil. Another one threw the spear strongly. We could only see a deadly reflection. A second later we could see a longitudinal line stood at the place of Zamil. He seemed immovable for a moment! Then he fell down on the ground like the groaning of civilization. By this time Faruk jumped over the opponent with his weapon. I picked up the arms too. But my right hand betrayed me absolutely. At such necessity it surrendered to paralysis. One spear was running towards the back of Faruk I tried to resist it like a fool. But my hand moved so slowly. Deceiving my resistance it pierced through Farukï¿½s back fully. My brain started to work actively. It could provide proper signal then. Breaking the long records of coward ness I began to rush towards the locality. My senses were being given due alarm. I was running fast ringing bells like fire brigade on the highway. I need to reach the human area. There remains the way of resistance

After the erection of the wall the nation Yazoo Mazuj banished their voice. No one one can utter any other sound. They know only one sound- the sound of licking stone with their tongues. They donï¿½t know how long they have to do this job. They can understand only the sunrise, sunset and this wall. Their only job is to break the wall. There remains infinite happiness outside. The only one goal. They are digging the wall with this single hope. Starting with the sunrise and ending with the sunset. Generations after generations. Billions of years are continuing. Crores of tongues are working with the same rhythm. The sunrise obsesses them with giantï¿½s force. But the sunset turns them into new born babies. The huge wall becomes a thin paper necessitating last licking. Their tiredness rejects their last attempt. Sleep prevails upon them up to the next sun. They wake up again with great hope though the wall has already regained its original thickness- so unbreakable. This deceiving wall canï¿½t dishearten them. Rather it doubles their zest/wrath. They return to the same work forming more sensation and firm will force.

Todayï¿½s sunrise appears quite different. It is spreading some reddish smile. A kind of outrageous passion enters their feelings manifold. The passion is of course known to them from the starting. The passion is their working force. With the positive gesture of the sun they jump over the mischievous barrier. Suddenly there arrives an unfamiliar sound before all. The nation Yazuj Mazuj stops for a moment. Is it forbidden? A commandment to proceed? They hesitate a moment/bit. A little later the passion enhances their whim. All the suspicion, doubts and hesitation vanish away. Having newer inspiration they gear up their routine work. The sound arrives from the other side. It is continuous. It is surprisingly inviting- Come, Yazuj Mazuj, come evil spirits! O! Come.

The sun reaches the other end walking. Before hiding it hangs for a while as if it watched them ridiculously- ï¿½Today you are failing too!ï¿½ï¿½ This teasing rather gears their inner force up. But at sunset they become helpless again. To an utter astonishment the curtain of silence which remains so for centuries is torn. A forgotten tune is ringing on a young Yajuj Majuj ï¿½ ï¿½It is the next sunrise we will succeed. God intends the wall wonï¿½t betray.ï¿½ï¿½

I rush back to society. Darkness is all prevalent there. My shrieks full of fears only help few napped Childs to cry. Their abodes are lighted only over their weeps. A leader appears wiping out his sleepy eyes.

ï¿½Gather our mates to resist the catastrophe as beforeï¿½ï¿½- my urges dropped several times.

He is not fully awakened yet. I try to explain him the sabotage- the fate of Zamil and Tarek The agitating spirit of the leader remains the same as if he were in hesitation about the preparation of resistance. He seemed doubtful- ï¿½Go home now. We will discuss the matter and decide the next day.ï¿½

The first group of Yajuj Majuj crosses the wall on the next sunrise. Having overtaken an arid valleys and low mountains they stand before a locality named Friendship. Being the starting point of outrageous passion and sensation, Friendship is fully abolished from the Globe/ human geography.

The second group proceeds further. The spot is the mostly nursed lake- Democracy. They dump out some waste and garbage into the lake. As the volcanic lava freezes water, theist waste fills the reservoir for ever. So esteemed a thing ever invented by civilizations is evaporated in the wind!

The first group reaches the place by the time. They get no remaining to destroy. Both the groups march towards the horizon roaring together. Their goal is now another green sphere- Humanity.

At their terrific growling, millions of birds fly away. They are covered with a new feeling- fear. The Yejuj Majuj species shook the trees to make them leafless. On an instant the barrenness of winter falls over the ever green spring. They uproot this mother tree successfully.

Only then both the groups come before our barricade. To our utter surprise we find big holes in our protective human chain. Some of our co fighters have changed the position on a blink of an eye. They have torn off their fake skin. In fact these were their masks. Beneath them there remain the real faces. I become filled with hatred and contempt. I can acknowledge them clearly. They are the saboteur.

We try to fall on them. But the still made command of our leader prevents us doing so. The saboteur laughs at us as we were in great agitation. Then they start going forward crossing the valley and build a gorgeous gateway soon. They stand in two lines bowing down. They are also reciting some felicitous eulogy for Yajuz Majuz.

The Yajuz Majuz species come forth. The human saboteurs are waiting so applauded as the young whores long for rewards after satisfying lords. Having reached the arch the species suddenly turn into dinosaurs. The grand arch and other decorations become vile dust within a second. And the reward seekers who were singing tributary songs were heavily pressed and those who were still alive lost their life blood. Few of them move to return though they halt after few steps. They can realize they have no room among us.

The Yajuz Majuz proceeds. And we burst out in violent laughter before fighting to meet our death.

Paran Goppi and the Hatghori Brittantya

(Story teller Paran and the wrist watch)

Actually he has no more tales to tell. A few local fairy tales ever heard and some tricks of dervishes and fakirs, stories of notorious dacoits and the incident of seeing Zinnah with his own eyes. And the fabulous activities of the mad king. These are his capitals. Utilizing these resources he has picked out insects from the ears of the people living in the small town nearly 20 years. Before that he had been driving a horse cart for more twenty years. The death of his old horse could not enable him to afford another one. Again among the seven sons and two daughters two sons have started earning. The eldest could not support him even with a paisa. The son earns in a peculiar way. He was sent to Doyagram to study in a madrasha. He stayed in a Lillah Boarding where he lived free of cost. Like today the madrashas were run with the money collected as weekly contributions, selling of cattle skins sacrificed in the Eid and the donations dropped in the wooden box moving from market to market. The son had also adopted talbelemship (apprenticeship to religious preacher) but few years later he returned home with some doa-kalam (sermons) and the learning of being a passive partner of sex. From that time he continues this strange occupation in a hotel. How can Paran Sheikh take money from such a son for living! However his second son is much better. He works in a biri factory as its workman. He is a little master. His earning is also satisfactory. And Paran Sheikhï¿½s wife has been working as a part time paid maid servant in some of the houses nearby for long. So after the death of the old horse, Paran does not engage himself to any permanent occupation. However he performs two works regularly. One is to distribute shirni (sacrificed food items for the performers or the poor) after the Zumma prayer every Friday and the other is to tell his ever told stories. Now all his sons have started to earn with the blessing of Allah and got married. He needs not to be starved if he receives one handful of waste food from each son seven times a day. But it did not happen so. After getting married all the sons scattered. They could manage to marry three daughters off somehow. Now they are two along with one daughter. His wife is still capable of doing on pay. To speak the truth the wife is running the family single handed. Paran Sheikh is fully carefree. A bit tension sometimes arises when he thinks about the younger daughter. If she is married off he can live or die in relief.

Sometimes many attentive listeners gather in the village tea stall. Paran Sheikh can pass most of his time sitting on the bench of the stall. His lips remain auto open- Is there any taste of tea at present! How can it be? The milk is impure. Some mix water, some mix powder and some soak butter. If the mad king were alive! He was a king indeed! How can a tea seller see him! He is just a new offspring! If the mad king were alive! One day he heard some milkmen were pouring water in the milk. He himself went to the market. Soldiers and guard were along with him. Eight ducks were also with him. The ducks touched their beaks over the jars. Oh! The beaks were given by Allah! What a magic! They sipped the milk. There left only water at the bottom. The king ran furious. He wished to kill all the culprits pressing them under the feet of elephants. Then who could see them! All were rolling on ground and begging for life. The mad king however forgave them. They committed never to mix water into milk again. No mercy if they would do the same crime. The death under the feet of elephant.

And the king's elephant! It was truly an elephant. Its color was like cloud. A true mountain. An incident to be asserted. It was an incident of the then Darjeeling Mail. That train did not stop here. Whistling coo near the station the train crossed the town- zhak zhak zhak. The king told the English Sahib twice to have a stoppage. No result. One day that elephant appeared. It stood on the rail way. Go across the kingï¿½s area, train, go. Let us see how you can approach! The time was passing! The Sahib bent down on the feet of the king. The stoppage was confirmed from that day. The king got abroad the train grandly. Darjeeling in every summer.

With the utterance of station the name of Zinnah came to his mind. One day Zinnah Sahib addressed at the station. So thin and sticky body with such spirit! Paran Sheikh has seen him with his own eyes! He could understand Urdu but he saw him himself. The station still bears the testimony! It is a minerat like the phallus of Shiva surrounded by chains and columns. Some words are inscribed on the body of the tower-Belief- Unity-Discipline. Bangla and Urdu though the letters are no more visible now. Colored posters of movies cover them always.

After talking so long a cup of tea and a stick of cigarette can be enjoyed. Leaving the bench the waiter of the stall went to the oven. This time three young men arrive. They are soundy as the youth move now days. Two of them look branded as notorious. They have studied at best up to college level. Knowing that education would carry no return, they have left it. Now they do politics bearing some reputation also. They collect tolls, attend processions, and burst crackers. Their arrival turns the boy and Paran Sheikh scared. It is quite natural. The three do not have any attention about others. The sitters were also alert expecting some misdeeds to happen though they make fun over their activities once. It has become a daily affair now. The third of them seems rather submissive with a slightly shrewd appearance. Having ordered for three cups of tea, they sat on a bench. They forced the boy to wash the cups well with hot water. One of them asked the third how many persons he has castrated this day.

Now it is understood that the third one is a field worker of the Family Planning Department. It is his duty to persuade the public for vasectomy and legation. He uttered a number laughing. The other two retorted if the number is so less they may go with him to be prostrated. It may earn some money and lungi. The boy tries to knob the Philips so popular a radio brand. A nosy tune came out. Then a Rabindra shangeet. One shouted to stop the radio. Damn the song of Tagore! Being a field worker one bursts out in laughter as he reminds an incident.

While asked about the cause he informs, Rabindranath was the fourteenth son of his parents. If there were the system of castrating the father must have thought that two children would be enough and he would castrate. Then what the singers would do today! The other two youths even Paran Sheikh himself giggled at his words. Regarding the situation easy, Paran Shiekh wishes to interfere. He knows a special story about a Baul singer that he can serve now. But the youths turn to another issue. A hartal (strike) is ahead. An opposition cadre was doing too much in the last hartal. This time one promises also to push a cocktail into his prostrate. Others are in vehement criticism against the police officer. He is not eligible even for the post of a night guard! Finishing their tea, they fire cigarettes.

The attack comes on suddenly. Six young men clearly of opposition rushed towards them forming storm. The hurried movements of the three flung the tables and chairs. With horrified sobbing, terrified eyes, and trembling limbs the boy and Paran Shiekh came near. The three were rushing out just like thrown arrows. But one was caught. He tried to escape desperately. Even a hard thing can be achieved with an utmost strive. He could do it too though his shirt was torn. The six followed them abusing fiercely. A cocktail was exploded. Within a few seconds all the running youths vanished away moving to the turn. There floated only cloudy ash and smoke on the air.

Paran Shiekh observed he had no strength in his knee. He had to remain sitting. With his trembling body he proceeded to turn it straight half bent. At this he could see the watch.

Paran Sheikh passed two days in obsession. Hiding the watch inside the fold of lungi he brought it to his room. He placed into the box of tin. He told none of the matter. Even his daughter could not see his opening the box. If she saw, she would think that he was taking money saved by her mother. He realized it for the first time that he had power to keep anything secret. But he felt unrest whether he would return it to the owner or hide it. It might work well at the time of marriage of his younger daughter. He fancied the bride and the unseen bridegroom. The daughter wept covering her face with the scurf. A weeping for happiness! She saluted the relatives-elderly persons quickly. As soon as the bridegroom completed his saluting, Paran Sheikh put the watch round his wrist as a gift. All the guests were astonished. The daughter too. So worthless a man like him could collect such a precious object! Paran Sheikh enjoyed the bewilderment of all. It is possible, sons, possible even for a worthless person can do miracle. Much worthy man can fail at times while a negligible person like Paran Sheikh can do it! The story of the kingï¿½s elephant and the idle ganja addict can be asserted now.

The king declared- the man who can lift the elephant on air will be awarded ten thousand taka. The then ten thousand means more than a million at present. Within a few moment of drum beating, hundreds of bulky fighters, mahut and master athletes of circus parties arrived there. One drag the elephant this way, another pulled the other. Some applied tricks and devices. But all in vain. The elephant sat idly in the middle of the square and chewed banana tree. The crowd gathered around and enjoyed their funny activities. No one could do it. At last a bony man came forward taking opium. The soldiers and the crowd giggled out at his boastful attempt. He came near the elephant indifferently. He also moved round the elephant. He breathed a long spell of smoke of the pipe uttering- Boam Shankor. Then he moved round again and rolled out his sleeve. The crowd laughed at his stick like skinny hands. Then the addict pushed the hand under the belly of the elephant. With another hand he held the testes of the elephant tightly. No sooner had he pressed it than the elephant sprang up above seven Hands! So the reward was his. Taka ten thousands!

The next proclamation of the king was to make the elephant express ï¿½Yes and Noï¿½. ï¿½Yesï¿½ means the elephant would move its head up and down and ï¿½Noï¿½ means the moving of head right and right and left. The reward was the same as before. Taka ten thousand. There came numbers of fakirs, peers, dervishes and magicians. Some blew uttered charms and incantations. Some sprinkled blessed water. Some jumped with shouts. The peersï¿½ miracles ended, the magiciansï¿½ spells ended. But all in vain. The elephant remained very calm. The crowd reveled at them cost-free.

Seven days later there came the addict again. With the huge cash he received earlier he looked more confident. He had no want then to buy opium. He was enjoying it more and more. He turned more slender. He wore a newly bought shirt dazzling in color. This time no one laughed at him. He proceeded towards the elephant stubbornly. Reaching to its ear, the man whispered ï¿½Hi- elephant, can you recognize me? My action on your scrotum? The elephant looked very afraid. It turned the eyes up and down. Again the addict said- Will I press again? The soul of the elephant seemed out of cage- Can such pressure on scrotum be ever enjoyed? The elephant started to move right and left in horror. The game was finished with reward too.

Like the opium taker Paran Sheikh was not counted before.

But after dreams comes the fear in full form. If the youth came back in search of the watch or if he came to know that Paran Sheikh engulfed the precious thing, he would kill him. He passed his days restlessly- what to do then? He thought himself unable to do anything. Oneï¿½s idea was not enough to take any decision. Even after passing two sleepless nights one early morning Paran Sheikh prepared himself to tell the story to his wife. At that time she was getting ready to go otherï¿½s house for work. Thinking that Paran Sheikh was composing another story, she snarled vehemently. Here tales are called precepts and the person who uses to say such a story loses everything in his life. With this local proverb the wife tried hard to dishearten the husband. But Paran Sheikh was helpless. He had to take the decision. So he opened his inside with struggle. At first she remained reluctant to hear but when she realized the matter she reacted sharply. The anemic face lost the even the last drop of blood. She was terrified inwardly. She was passing her life with such a husband! Though she showed a kind of negligence to him, she kept a great compassion for him too. She turned stunned about the safety of her foolish husband. She retorted several times to reback the watch and beg pardon. This would be the only solution to avoid such a danger ahead.

Next day Paran Sheikh ploughs the whole arena to pick out the gang walking but in vain. He finds none of them. On return he again seeks the way from his wife. He decides to go to the house of the leader. This is the first time for him. In the poster he has seen his photograph only. During the vote. He has heard the speeches of the leader from the microphones at rallies. The leader announces- doors of my house are always open to all irrespective of classes. Reaching the yard of his house he sees peoples are entering and coming out. No obstacle is found. The leader wonï¿½t sit anymore. No one will meet him now. Probably Paran Sheikh has heard about it but nothing can influence on so obsessed a person like him. More ever the open surroundings have encouraged him much. Crossing the entrance he finds different form of rooms. Reaching one room he stands wondered- an uncommon darkness prevails over the atmosphere.

There is a glass room inside the hall. Light comes out through the glass. In fact it is a colossal aquarium covering half of the space. Various colored fishes are swimming in the red-blue-green-yellow light. A heavenly situation of light and shade persists there. The fishes are moving out of sheer joy. The leader looks at them meditating. Indifferent to all. This is completely his own world. The world of sports. The game is just a part. At times the leader retouches him from others only to concentrate on the play. The sixth sense of Paran Sheikh alerts him to keep silence. He stands motionless as if he were the soundless air. Moments are passing wordless. The leader still observes the moving fishes. He follows the timer of his mind. Once it signals. The second round will start. He picks up a (fish) from a covered pan. He raises it before his face. With red eyes it stares at the leader steadily for few moments as though it regained power radiated from his soul. He lifts the cover of the aquarium and leaves it. For a while the fish hangs as an unmovable sharpened arrow in the water. Just then it jumps over the red blue fishes. The eyes of the leader are sparking. The skin of his face becomes turns oily with the sweating of passion. A secretion of some unknown hormone is going on in his body. When the mouth of the fish opens, a sudden shrill sound ï¿½ Ah- O ï¿½ O is produced through the tongue of the leader. Paran Sheikh feels trembling. It seems some supernatural beings have come down. He stands spellbound. He has lost the least power of movement.

After devouring the last one the ---- floats in the crystal water with red eyes opened. Fixed as if it were a mine grounded under sea water. Now the leader breathes satisfactorily. Turning back he sees the old, unknown man. His brews react first. A kind of boredom touches the body. Yet he has a great strength of mind! He hides the sign of anger quickly. A soothing smile spreads over his face. All the muscles are quite habituated. Coming forward he puts his hands softly over the shoulder of Paran Sheikh. A mode of encouragement. It provides a great relief to Paran Sheikh. He has then reached to a just place! The incident or the need or the help the leader can do- this type of question is always expressed and instantly Paran Sheikh evaporates fully telling his problem with the watch.

The leader hears everything quietly. He bears an empowering view all the time though his brain turns active inwardly. A prey has come to the web himself. He can easily be used. Paran Sheikh canï¿½t understand, the Paran Sheikhs canï¿½t understand there persists an octopus behind such look. The octopus does not have any other sense except possessing the victim.

The assuring look takes a form of speech this time. Paran Sheikh could know that he had nothing to be afraid of. He needs not return the watch. No one even demands it back. No one threats him ever. The only return is to do a simple work.

He is now greatly relieved. His knees now feel very weak after a long crisis. If he can sit!

The leader can read insight. He lets him sit on the soft sofa very affectionately. Paran Sheikh's heart melts away. For such a great leader he can do anything.

Well - let the work be known. The leader starts talking; Paran Sheikh can use the watch himself. He is asked if he knows how to measure time. Observing the moving compasses of the huge clock in the porch of the court he has guessed them beforehand. But he can't understand the English writing seen on the watch. The leader comes forward again with assurance-He will teach him how to identify time. He is to be given another timer having two hands too. He is to be posted to sit somewhere He will stay in a tea stall before a house of some leader- sworn enemy to his new but dear master.

Few persons are needed to be known only. He will pass his time in the stall, enjoy free tea-cigarettes, tell tales and mark when the leader enters and exits. It is so easy a task. Naturally there prevails no reason to deny the job. One day Paran sheikh starts his occupation.

One month goes. Goes the second month too. Gaping only a few days' two persons were murdered in the town. As a protest processions are held, strikes are observed. The town cools down as usual. Paran Sheikh continues. His wife cleans dishes, sweeps floors with wet clothes from house to house. She manages her meals as before. She also keeps rice and curry on a plate for her husband. Sometimes Paran sheikh eats sometimes refuses. The wife turns angry to see his reluctance over so hard earned food.

Once a day passes. Second day passes. Also begins the third day. Paran sheikh does not return. The wife gets nervous. She starts to have information about her husband. Having heard from different people she reaches the tea stall. The owner informs- Paran Sheikh has not been there for the last two days. She continues searching the days onward. She goes to all possible places where he was used to tell tales. No where is Paran Sheikh.

The wife weeps before the sons. With her rapid insistence they come out to look for their unnecessary father. To search so deceivingly they become annoyed too. But with no result their irritation feels another apprehension. Keeping their heads cool they counsel together. They decide to go to the leader. But he is in the capital. None of his party workers can help them- They haven't seen the sign of Paran Sheikh for few days.

The sons stop searching. But their mother! She runs indifferent to works. She enquires the whole day. Arranging rice on plate she waits for her husband. Fear, anxiety, excessive labor, hazards of sleeplessness all add to her tiredness. Everything makes her stupefied. If she sits, drowsiness attacks her, dozing appears. And whenever she is stooping, she finds her husband. Paran sheikh is engulfing mouthful rice and telling the tales.For few days he has been uttering the name of his leader- the model of all leaders. A born leader. He rears a large tabula fish in a watered box. He talks in a soft voice as tender as butter. If he is ever angry, he never raises his voice. His tongue simply becomes grave and if he speaks, a thunder of roaring clouds appears. When he looks at his fellows, they pass urine terrified. When he roars pregnant women leave their wombs off. What about the eyes of the leader! Whom or what do they look like? No simile is born yet. But it is true he is a leader! He rears a tabula fish in a watered box of glass.

The Maid and the Mermaid

To start the boat the old man looked up over the sky and said- No birds are anywhere . On that very day of introducing shallow engine, the birds bade good bye.

Let the saying of birds be dropped. What about fish! Oh the Challon beel! Great mine of fishes! All the fishes disappeared with the planting of irri paddy! adds another old man.

Both of them are regretting. But they are not so perfect in their voices. It appears to be somewhat passive narration. Propelling the pant pole the man moves the boat into deep water and proceeds to the engine. Before pressing the handle he says- What ever you say, as there is irri paddy, the country men can get two handfuls of rice.

The engine rattles before he finishes. A growing youth , probably a son of the old man is at the rudder. He steers the boat at a right direction.

No sound prevails except the rattling. By the time the male passengers fire their biri -cigarette and sit accordingly.

The young girl who somehow saved herself from slipping at the boat ghat, places her chin on her folded knee and back against the soi*There are more five women surrounding her. They start whispering. One yields milk to a crying baby under her anchol. Before that she tries to keep herself away from the male eyes. But the male are both the sides- front and back. So it is useless to keep privacy. Seeing her struggle and embarrassment one older woman comments- Enough! you have already covered with anchol, daughter.

Other women looked at her measuring the curtain over the feeding of child. Inattentive is only the young woman. Her eyes are open. Black balls in white land is quite unmoving. They are not blinking too. She sees everything though nothing enters.

The sound of males' gossiping flows outside the shade. Besides the obstacles of rattling the air also pushes the noise away. So the passengers raises their voice even in simple talk. If the loudness were heard elsewhere, it would be treated quarrel. But the women inside sit near and talk in a low voice. The knee touching chin of the young girl seems to react now. She can realize someone is about to talk. A seemingly experienced housewife stays to the right. As soon as she looks at her, she asks again- which village are you the daughter of ?

The spell hasn't broken yet. the whole question is not sent to mind. Before speaking her eyes and brows take a questioning mode.

Which village?

Kushumbi Kaliganj.

To fatherï¿½s house?

The young girl nods her head.

Where is it?

Bordhon kuthi.

The girl is in a rosy sari of tissue. Locked hair without any scent of oil. She even feels no spirit to go her mother's house.. What is the color of such happy return ? No name the color pertains. But it is acknowledged. The girl again places her chin over the folded knee. She shuts her eyes for a moment. She appears very tired. She can be tired if she bears first issue. The experienced woman measures her body. It does not seem so. This inquisition passes in other women also. Which type of girl is she? So quiet in such a return? The way is long even when they are on a shallow boat. If it were a rowing boat , it would take a whole day. Yet the hours are not less. Can anyone remain detached on such way ?

There has been a good shower of rain earlier. The sun now shines brighter. Those who folded the umbrella after the rain open it again due to the sun. The light fails to enter the beel as the water is full of dirt and earth in the month of rain. Only the surface of the silted water is seen The beel is freely expanded all around with water downward. Having milk color the mud mixed water spread far reaching. The villages seems to be ant hills over the surface. Their color is not green. Rather they appear wild black. The canals found among the villages are all submerged with the glow of the beel. The old man who has just lamented over the missing of birds earlier starts to speak about hunting of birds . The ever said word - bird enters the soi though not the total story, It even enters the ears of the young girl with rosy sari. Suddenly he moves with the word. She is in earnest to go out of the soi and see the floating villages. How far a village from other is! There remains no banks, no trees except these villages. If any bird is pushed out, it needs to fly so long a sky only to reach another land ! Again if it gets no abode there, it has to fly more . Again if ------ this type of chasing from village to village and the ever expansion of muddy water below! Oh! after flying ---- flying the wings will have a great tiredness and the eyes will bleed looking for a shelter. Yet it must fly--------- must fly.

The young girl seems pervaded with the tiredness of thought of birds being pushed and pushed over the endless beel. She falls swooning. Her heart beats too fast. No air reaches her. She sighs only for a breathing. Suddenly her boat mates are stirred. The girl has picked her chin up from the knees trying hard to have a bit of air. The eyes are blank Forehead is sweating. Instantly one puts hands below her shoulder

The bittle chewing, gossiping and drowsiness of the other five women stops with utter caroling. Some uneven shouts begin-Stop the boat! Anchor it now! Water- fetch water!

On such an emergence the empowerment of purdah, the bewilderment of hesitation lose their foundation. The women are inviting males to nurse: Who is the guardian of the young wife? Come inside. She's fainted. Stop the boat ! Among the passengers, the boat man peeps into the soi first. Having started the engine he sits beside the soi and finds the tracks . It is only that man who can identify the girl and her old companion . Pointing at him he shouts- O babaji, your daughter turned senseless. Go inside quick!

The old man moves there but very hesitating. Meanwhile one woman puts her head over the lap. Another sprinkles water on her face.

The old man seems unmoved. The women inside feel pity for him. One even condoles- Don't worry, your daughter will relieve soon. Few words came out of his lips as vomiting- Not my daughter. Wife of my son.

These words are not so steering as the patient lies senseless. Yet an woman canï¿½t help asking- Being a father in law you are lifting her own home? On an instant the other women can realize why the young girl has looked so spiritless. This is the reason why she has sat so lifeless! Their hearts are filled with compassion. The boat by the time nears a village. He wants to know if he will anchor there.

Needless- the father in law speaks in a low voice- She has a chronic illness of being senseless. And she recovers automatically.

The fallen girl seems to move a little later. A sound explodes - Maa! All the women impends over her- Oh , Daughter! Is it too painful? Have patience, it will be alright soon.

Opening her eyes she can see some anxious and affectionate eyes bending over her . An woman is sweeping her torn face with wet anchol. With the warmth of such hearty sweeping the sign of miseries evaporates from the face. Her breathing turns regular again though she canï¿½t return to a full conscious mind. She is still hanging between the line. The young girl is floating like the boat. She is going to her fatherï¿½s house.

Tu-uk, tuki !

Who tuuks? She is none but one of her friends! But the voice approaches differently. This is absolutely new but a sweet note that she has never heard. She desires to see the face. But her body, neck head nothing answers to her will.

The voice flies again- Tuuk ! Tuu- ki!

The unseen voice recites-

Whom you search sky or air?

She is just beside you.

Search in mind not with eyes

Find me who I am there.

The rhyme resounds several times from her early friends. She recites them too. But she canï¿½t detect the ballad she has ever heard. She struggles to pick out the owner of the sweet voice. Suddenly the curtain of the soi lifts up. She invents a wing lightning like silver in the sun over the muddy water. The wing dances rhythmically. It rhymes also-

Khotash khotash maku chaalae zola

Zolar bittir monta alabhola.

Kapor bune pindoner

Taite khushi tinjoner

Lal sharita dekhaei konse hea

Agun mashe o churi tor bia.

The girl wonders more and more. Who produces these rhymes hidden from memory for three years? Being emotional the heart of the young girl drops on her eyes now. She can see. She can see a flood of black hair three hands away upon the muddy water. Just in the middle of infinite hair a face is found filled with the light of moon. The face is smiling also. The bright eyes resembling diamond fix towards the girl. The memories of the girl are in great enthusiasm- Do I know her? How will I reply the rhymes?

But the striving needs no longer waiting. Like a self starting machine her girlhood, her new entry of youth comes forth to her voice-

Dure dure thakis re tui kader barir zhee?

Zhaker pukhi dhalkle zhaker khoti ache ki?

Amar kache aai,

Chupti kore boy!

(Whose daughter are you staying so far?

What loss does it make if birds return to flocks?

Come to

Sit quiet!)

At once the flood of black hair is spread very near to the boat. The girl can see the figure very well. Observing many parts of her body the girl feels greatly ashamed-What a shameless girl! She is in the water but having no cloth! Full flash of her young body is quite visible even in the muddy water! Mentally the girl looks angry too. The water girl can read all of her anger, shyness and feelings. She gets much fun. She laughs out giggling. The girl gets imputed. So shameless! The floating one stops smiling. But her face reflects more fun. An water wave is played on- Donï¿½t be afraid, friend. Only you can see me. Nobody even hears me.

Is it believable ? All the passengers blink their eyes and cap their ears!

The water girl says-Canï¿½t you believe? Look up.

She stands high beside the boat. Oh ! even the paragon of beauty will feel jealous having a look at her uncovered body! Malesï¿½ mind must turn sensual. Yet no one seems reacting. They acknowledge no presence of mermaid standing by them . Their eyes push at the same direction through the figure up to the far hemisphere.

Canï¿½t you believe even now? - The mermaid repeats, Look at me again!

An youth is sitting there turning his back. She sprinkles handful of water over the man. The man amaze at the stroke of water. He watches round the boat very inquisitively. He fails to see who has sprayed water. The stupefied youth gazes at the wet shirt in a sheer bewilderment. Then shrugging his shoulder he turns to another direction. Beholding this stupidity the mermaid laughs again tittering.

The young girl says- How can you make yourself invisible?

Itï¿½s my wish! Nobody can detect me if I donï¿½t like. No one can see any of our species.

Who are you then? Ghost, witch or demon of water? the girl wants to know.

In a mysterious way the water maid retorts- Once I was you. One day you will turn into me.

How can I be like you? When were you me?

Not alike, not alike. You could not understand. You are me. Iï¿½m you.

But I canï¿½t comprehend the riddle.

No riddle it is. Look at yourself. Try to realize.

How can I look at me? I have no looking glass. O, how can I guess my reflection?

A mirror can give only shade. Nothing actual can be seen there. Look at your mind. Dive there. Dive in! Dive in with eyes closed.

The young girl shuts her eyes.

Dive! What do you find now?

Darkness!

The tone of the mermaid is full of urge.

The girl loses power over her nerves. She can dive in and in. the darkness entangles her as a snake. Her breathing seems to be stopped. Other hand the water girl reminds her to sink in undeniably. Abiding by the eternal voice she dips further. From darkness to more darkness. Suddenly a tender light illuminates before her.

There is a locality beside an affectionate river flowing. There is reflection of vivacity made by bright children, teens, graceful youths and serene olds and affluence in the habitat . in the yard there are many pet animals though there is no crop planted near. Green vegetables and rows of fruit and banyan trees. Yet no crop field is found. So far as eyes go sari, clothes and yarn of various color are hanging as nets of the fishermen. The girl as well as the mermaid are spinning in the soft light of the dawn. They sing, chew bittle leaves and spin. Bobbins are at there hands. Their bangles sound jiggling. With the rhythm of bangles the maku (shutter) denotes a mild sound of tabors. Also there are young men who are weaving inside. They are singing captivating tunes in full throat.

MATRICIDE

There was not a single banyan tree in the village , not even in the Pargana.

The male folk in the village had never uttered the name of the tree to their wives anytime. Several generations were yet to see this tree. They did not know if there existed such a kind of the Marital ties, relations, family tours all were limited in the region. Naturally the women could not overtake the range. They had to know their husbands only. Before going to the husbandsï¿½ house they were taught how to stitch pillow cover, design naksmikantha, cook or plant vegetables, etc. From the old women they learnt how to perform namaj and recite the Quran. In a word they took enough preparation to enrich husbandï¿½s possession.

For their intensive conformity in the pargana they knew cane field, banana trees, farmlands and crops well. But only a few days ago some women dared go outside their border . It was vehemently protested by the men. However they took it for granted saying it was a fair crossing. But the religious leaders and the moulovis predicted- this unprecedented violation would cause a great havoc for them.

Even after such foretelling the male thought it was just a womanish fickleness. But they became red alarmed when the wives said they had seen a banyan tree. They could not imagine that the tree could ever be seen by their wives. Their major attractions would be enjoying bioscopes and puppet shows. They would request their respective husbands to possess some colorful ornaments and cheap cosmetics. Instead, the wives saw the forbidden tree in another Paragana. In fact the gigantic form of the tree could not remain unseen. The men were too complacent. They believed they were well protected and the female were mostly interested in petty matters.

One or two women had seen the trees. But none of them flashed it out. They could keep the secret wonderfully. They chalked a design with other women. They visited the tree one by one. They advanced with their plan. One day destroying the husbandsï¿½ ego, they assembled in a public square (meeting place) and declared ï¿½ We are to plant sapling of a banyan tree here.

The male felt scared as their wives did not propose or request but proclaimed their decision firmly.

This perplexity rather geared the wives up. They associated it in a hundred voiceï¿½ ï¿½this village is deprived of the blessings of a banyan tree. The weary travelers get no shady place in this area. Birds are shelter less. Rural people do not enjoy the nicest creation of nature. Thatï¿½s why a plantation festival is to be held soon.ï¿½

The men could point out many things in opposition. They could say- The tree collects water from the core of earth. It devours lifeblood of other trees. Beside there live indecent bats at night. The witty saying of Gopal Bhar-When man faces any setback, he breaks out his inner heart what he believes in the subconscious.

The male uttered somehow- ï¿½The husband is the banyan tree for woman. Man gives her wife shade, shelter, spirit and life force .Then why to arrange a grand festival on some inanimate plantation?ï¿½

The woman remained firm. They declared- No pargana can exist without this tree as no habitat is ever possible without river, beels or ponds. For a complete human habitation this tree is a must.

Next night there happened a strange incident. The village women were alert. No man was at home At first the wives thought it nothing. But later they came to know through discussion all the husbands passed the night outside without any notice. They considered it to be some conspiracy against them- They must have met together and designed against womanï¿½s proceeding. The wives also determined to interrogate their men.

Just after the evening the men were again absent. Rice became cool. Curries turned tasteless. Porridge was frozen. And the night deepened more and more. They wished to search them out. But how could they move at the dead of night?

Ghnuteburi (usually an oldest and humble woman who collects dung cakes for fire) came forward as before. Her husband passed away long before. Her eyeballs sank behind curtain. Yet in the village she could walk day night easily as her other senses worked well. Going to their houses she inspired- Come, dear wives, come weï¿½ll face together.

On her presence those ladies got assurance to hold a meeting. They went out to find out their men. They neednï¿½t go far. It was the public square where they decided to plant banyan tree. A woman of perfect beauty was dancing in the midst of their men. Her gesture created some unearthly rays, whenever she place her artful steps, the rhythm of tabla and music took a new turn. Looking at her the men ran wordless, obedient and bound as students listen to their teacherï¿½s command. The village women burst out in grievance. The united shrieks covered all the spells of tabla and jingle of bells. The very woman stopped her dance. The charm was over. The husbands were nervous before their furious wives. But the wives did not pay attention to them. They accused the dancer first. They attempted to tear the seducer. Ghnuteburi was again in the lead. Why did she bring a dung cake with her? The question was useless. But she threw it at the charmer. How strange! On the air it turned into a red rose! The rose stroke her baby softly and dropped like some fervent offering to an alter. All their attacking spirits cooled. Being astonished they thought- It is either an witch or some goddess.

Again the old woman proceeded ï¿½ Who are you? Why to dance before others` husbands and take them away from their wives? Donï¿½t you fear Hell?

Her deceiving arts of eyes which engulfed the menï¿½s heart earlier had already disappeared. Instead, there reflected flashes of hapless pains, She said piteously- Iï¿½m a yakshasi (demi goddess to guard hidden treasure). In a banyan tree I live only to worship yakkhas. He can save me. But there is no banyan tree here. Then why did you come?

I understand your willpower. Meditating your wishes I understood that a banyan tree is going to link its root to the netherworld and spread its branches to the blue sky. Therefore I came here to be seated and placed. From here Iï¿½ll worship yakkhi.

Ghnuteburi was not a woman to stop so early. She spoke on metallic tune ï¿½Well. Itï¿½s all right. Take your position here. But explain us why you made these men so charmed and their houses so deserted.

Yakkhi was full of pathos still- I didnï¿½t call them out. They found me here last night. Iï¿½m helpless before man. My spell doesnï¿½t work on them at all.

Why did you dance before them if you have no charm? You could dance invisibly.

I can hide my body at daylight not at night.

We understand it. But we couldnï¿½t let you dance anymore. You would attract the man folk whole night.

Yakkhi looked lifeless ï¿½Iï¿½ve nothing to do if I like to save myself. As long as I dance the men will remain spell bound. If I stop theyï¿½ll devour my flesh and bone. I need to dance till to the sunrise even if my toes bleed.

At this the female heart felt pity for her. They blamed their outrageous husbands. They assured Yakkhi ï¿½ weï¿½re taking your responsibility. No man can touch you anyhow.

The yakshasi got relieved ï¿½ Give me security only for this night. Bengama- Bengami ( taletell birds ) will take over next night. They are to be placed here too. Theyï¿½ll look after me. With their safety Iï¿½ll continue my worshipping attentively.

The sapling was planted duly. The village faced acute shortage of water. Yet the women brought it from far only to help the young tree . They even rationed their childrenï¿½s water supply. They used less water for household works. They sent their cattle to other pargana . They did all these works only to water the sapling. But what a reverse result it ensured! They poured water everyday but the young tree turned pale and nearly dead next morning. The woman tried their utmost but with same consequence! The well planted sapling welcomed them with so pitiful appearance.

Ghnuteburi began to scream ceaselessly- It is the men who must have designed some conspiracy. Somehow they pour poison at the root at night. Who are the night faring culprits?

No result followed.

Ghnuteburi posted guards with earthen lamps. But for what change! The regiment reported ï¿½ Nobody crossed their eyes the whole night.

What to do then? The women could not decide. They said- Let us consult with the ghnuteburi and continue our watch.

The women could not help talking always. Her hours were not passing without any happening .Though the women had no interest in her incessant talking, they appeared before her for their common battle. The old woman flashed suddenly- Whatï¿½ll happen if I keep the cat in the spot?

She hurried home and returned with the pet in her lap.

What a magical reaction! The banyan sapling began to shake terribly as if thunderstorm was blowing over it. The atmosphere was too calm. The cat seemed restless. It wished to jump on something unknown.

Hardly had it got scope, it reached the tree in a second. It dug the ground near the sapling. The women were at a loss. What was happening?

The sapling stopped shivering a little later. The cat came back to her owner. It caught four rats. It was the fact then! The mates were so wicked! They let rats under ground, only to cut the natal roots not to collect water. What more vile tricks the men can take!

The sapling grew up in full awing. It touched the sphere and dropped its aerial roots to the earth. The sapling now became full grown, matured banyan tree. The village woman made it another duty. They went to the tree everyday. They experienced devotion of the lonely Yakkhi for Yakkhas. What a noble love! It also enhanced their affection for their husbands. With more affection and vow they served the men. But the husbands ran more gloomy. They tried hard to avoid the trees as plagues.

The wives was deeply concerned ï¿½ why are you so indifferent to the plant? The tree speaks of our past.

Which past?.

We know nothing. We canï¿½t remember. We can only realize itï¿½s not a happy past. Itï¿½s heart rending,

Itï¿½s a sin done previously. But we canï¿½t memorize it. This tree will make us jatishwar(one who reminds past lives) As long as it remains silent we are safe.- the men sighed,

But how can you say so? Why do you take the sin on your own shoulders what you didnï¿½t do?

We neednï¿½t be worry about it. But this tree indicates we are to repent.

Well, we may share your suffering. Better think about the kind of the past sinful act. If we attach together we can redeem from the punishment.

This kind of sin never ends in suffering, only in deathï¿½.. the men stopped. They kept themselves away from their wives.

Their hearts were burning

One day they went to the birds- you are onlooker of all. O seer, you know the past, the present and the future, please let us know how the banyan tree increases our dejection.

The talkative birds seemed somewhat disturbed- we canï¿½t foretell the future. We assert about the past unadulterated matters.

Was the past sinful? Not pure?

The birds kept silent.

Speak. Speak,

The sin was not theirsï¿½. Yet they took the charge on them as Jesus did for the whole mankind,

At this the women felt a bit jubilant.- Our husbands are not responsible then.

The birds said- If anybody wants to suffer otherï¿½s punishment, and if he declares it openly, heï¿½ll not like to share it with other. It is human mind.

We are inseparable part of our husbands. They fulfill all our wants. They must permit us to share in the process of redemption. If we take part, their miseries would be light. Tell us birds. Please.

Their quests received several refusals.

At last the bird agreed.-Then listen to me. Prepare your mind. Your past may break your heart. Itï¿½ll trouble the tongues, wet the eyes. So terrible, so melancholic the incident was.

Once upon a time there was a kingdom here. A kingï¿½s palace was also in the village. The villagers knew the king lived inside. He was treated as the saver and Godï¿½s sole representative for the people, The rural people were taught this as a truth by the preacher. They paid some parts of crops, cattle, fishes as their gifts. The king in return provided security for them. But no subjects had ever seen the king except his generals, soldiers and collectors. Even his employees couldnï¿½t see him. They received only orders and delivered it to the subjects. They explained there was another palace inside where the monarch lived alone. But no one was permitted to go there, even not his servants. The gate was opened on the ringing of the doorbell. His employees only put the presentations before the gate. An invisible voice made them know the kingï¿½s order. However they all knew the trespasser met his death unquestionably.

Within one year the total Pargana met with a severe draught. Crops didnï¿½t grow. The fields were burnt with the piercing sunlight. Water of rivers, lakes, and ponds dried up. Fishes and cattle were finished. Mothers couldnï¿½t feed their babies. They lost all prospects. How to save their dear children? Many of them had already died. One day they decided they would go to the king. Every year they presented the king many things. Some of them must be deposited in the kingï¿½s treasure. More ever the king must come forward to diminish their distress as he is Godï¿½s agent on earth.

One day they went to the palace. The soldiers opened the first gate. But the iron gate remained closed. A voice was on the air ï¿½ No man can enter. Send your women.

The women didnï¿½t wish to go in. they were filled with fear. But when the children in their lap cried for food, they could do what? They proceeded slowly. They dared cross the ever forbidden gate. At the time of entering they remembered- Nobody returns.

Yet they stepped in.

Next day huge dishes of food were brought before the villagers. Fragrance of cooked foods spread out in the air of the village. The rural people never enjoyed such delicious meat! So tasty and so much in quantity! Day after day they ate them to their hearts content.

Afterwards, they noticed their wives had not returned yet, they went to the iron gate. The soldiers informed- No entry. You can not go inside.

The men insisted the soldiers to let them go. The gate was very hard. But the men had been already bold with food. They held terrific force in them. They broke the gate.

But what is it! Where is the king? There stands only a bansai. As soon as they went before the bansai, it began to spread its branches in all directions. It expanded and turned into a sky touching banyan tree. There hung innumerable skeletons in the branches as the nests of weavers. The tree roared ï¿½ Itï¿½s I who is your king. The skeletons are of your womenï¿½s. First the blood and then the skeletons I have taken. And their meat was for you.

At this point loud lamentation filled the atmosphere. Instead of the women the men were wailing.

The women didnï¿½t know when the men came to the spot.

Now we can recognize our sin. We ate our mothersï¿½ meat. Sin! Oh the vicious sin! We can remember we have to redeem now!

In one dark night the wives found their husbands were not in their beds. None said anything yet they were certain their husbands went to the Banyan tree.