Blink issue 103 january23 2016

saturday, january 23, 2016

Celebrate BLink’s second birthday with this special anniversary issue; exclusive short stories written by authors debuting in 2016 Sandalwood Tejaswini Apte-Rahm p2 One Maharaja too many Arjun Raj Gaind p5 Hey there! I’m using WhatsApp Tanuj Solanki p8 Operation NOVA Tamilmagan p10 The most honest man in Vasantgaon Rahul Mitra p12 The fathers of Jangalmahal Swapnamoy Chakraborty p15 Change ringing Paul MM Cooper p16 16 coconuts to Pillaiyaradi Sharanya Manivannan p18 These newfangled ways Manu V Bhattathiri p20 Blueprint Lavanya Shanbhogue-Arvind p22

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dipankar

Blueprint Sandalwood

Life goes on I rode a bus to my old home and stood at a discreet distance across the road, watching the children get into the school bus shutterstock/ legenda

lavanya shanbhoguearvind tejaswini apte-rahm

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e lives in the heart of the material world, reSavita speaks. He’s not even a nice person. He doesn’t nounces nothing, denounces everybody have a regular job. He squanders away his father’s limitand yet he is called Yogi. You wait for him in ed wealth. He spends his entire day with the mechanic near-bridal finery, a meticulously draped boys, borrowing clients’ bikes and going god-knowsI accepted the coerced situationinto my perfection husband presentred sari,oits many folds with a where, fied. “No, but I’mbeedis tempted expose you to them,” he smoking and to god-knows-what, laughing ed your to me: after 17 braided years ofinmarriage, years in too safety pin, shiny hair an elaborate fishsaid,loudly, “for being so selfish”), and his were day in limdrinking toddy athenight andlover the other he which I had stayed homein inbright Londonfuchsia, to look your after had tail pattern, your lips coloured bo (“Why can’t youto just anon affair with him,” I pleadto be brought hishave chawl a handcart.

And then the children, he henna had discovered that he was ho- there’s eyes smeared with kajal, for your hands and silver ed, “why doother you have him into house?” that girl, to thebring light-eyed one.this Didn’t you mosexual. couldn’t havethe been better ev- know? anklets for The yourtiming feet, the ones with little bellsforthat “How dare youknow. demean loveeverything for him inabout that way,” You do Youmy know him. eryonewhen concerned. jingle you walk.And if my husband had been a And, he’d there’s responded), and, he said, NO light-eyed girl. my own life was on hold devious sort ofSavita person, I would even it maYour friend tells you not to have wait called for him.

It’s tillYou thiscan’t situation could resolved. explain whybe you’re with him. It’s a wordless nipulative: because hisshowed homosexual been a month since he up, shepartner, remindsthe you.one In- feeling “What life in of the my centre own,” Iofdemanded, have right your chest.weeping, You can’t“Iname who was meyou’re in mygoing own to home, stead you to tellreplace her that find was a career given my entire lifelike to asking lookinganafter our family it. It’s illiterate personand to man in a smart suit. He worked long hours. And so, how home.” him. read. You can only see the squiggles. You fortunate was “It’s thatnot thegood workfor of you.” bringing up the chil“No,” sheitsays, “That’s notcan’t my fault,” he said, “I had told good. you right at say what it is. But it feels dren already by mewave — Nidhi Youhad dismiss herbeen withdone a silent of was 16 and the beginning, when fromto India, to cultivate Even we as arrived you begin walk towards You don’t tell Savita Pratikhand was and 14. All they needed your continue to fussnow, overreally, your your some mouths friends, whereown youinterests, think hemake is, Savita why you need to go, was for someone to feedyour them, andring, pay appearance.

You adjust nose but no. You insisted on being a boring platitudes. why it’s important to their earring, fees, andthe notmany disturb the on harmony of your rings your finhousewife with personality, no taste, no If it has to be ano secret, if you need to keep see Yogi theiryour socialnails. lives.You Thecheck first ofif these thingsare — gers, your teeth hobbies, but for your obsessive interest in it in the dark, if nobody should know, blah, In short, six months the feeding — ifthat white enough, yourimposter breath is could fresh, ifdo. theI your and has blah,husband blah, then ischildren. it right? And where what has of verbal battering supposeinIyour hadhair better giveinhim a name. flowers are still place, strateit you? I’ve moved on, I’ve finally dishegotten ever bought you, the wealth-squanderChandan is histoname.

Chandan gically pinned your Though fishtail braid the compressed me into a covered who I really am. The children have ing bastard? reduced person, worked full-time, my husband toldit.me, I grumbles. way Nutan, the parlour-wali fixed Savita on, you themwhat with She rolls hermoved eyes when you merely say thatirritate it isn’t about unsure myself, mustn’t aboutShe’s the been kids.inChandan What doesworry she know? a bad mood all morn- of he suffocating questions has boughtyour you but what he has brought about you. Youwhat tell trusting cooked an eye for ing, everbeautifully, since the had neighbour’s sonintericalled her not Savita they’ve and friend they can are her my that darkness haseaten a quiet, evilwhich dignity that light own wishes ors, a taste for whole jazz, and an to insistence bhabhi for the street hear. Ason a joke. There’s online with. all keep of us never achieve.chatting It’s a place where youDon’t makehold secrets, dust-free Thus he basti would takethen. The me- them and bury been muchneatness. sniggering in the since back,” said, “Doathe right thing and step themhe and that’s good thing because evover my duties smoothly; in on effect, he they’ve re- erybody has secrets. chanic boys who zoom around the bikes back, find your own place theatworld.”

When she rolls her in eyes you after would are slipthe right intoIfmy skin home paired worst. you getat too closeand they grope your your over-the-top In mini-speech short, six months of verbal battering you tell her that you’re in bed. My husband talk bed, of course, breasts.

And how fardidn’t can you getabout awaythe from them in the meeting compressed into aitreduced of myhimme to bring all into person, the light.unsure She makes a that was my own insertion. thoroughfare of the basti? They give her the creeps. And sound self, not trusting my ownofwishes, and, above all, not of dismissal, a cluck the tongue. not I gave easily.things It’s just husband wanting youIt’s too butlike you’ve gotinother on that yourmy mind. make things worse my children by creatYou’re to walking right into thefor heart of the basti, past told me every day,tell over months, “I must go,” you her,six “It’s time.” that my intransi- mounds ing a scene. of garbage and dog shit, past train tracks, past gence was ruining everyone’s Thetochildren, You don’t tell Savita why youlife. need go, why he it’ssaid, im- street “I’mhawkers giving you monthly maintenance forpaper yourselling channa and peanutsonly in tall were living sword over theiryou heads portant to seewith Yogi.a You can’thanging tell Savita before tell cones, self,” my husband toldtoddlers me, when it came down toand dispast half-naked playing with mud (“You’ve already told them about this?” I gasped, horri- old him. cussing thetubes. details of the separation. “For the children rubber

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Window to the old world Then came a day when I was so restless, I found myself making an enormous lasagne shutterstock

there will be the least disruption if they continue with my only meal. Lunchtime would find me wandering the me, in their current school.” local park with a carton of orange juice in my hand to “Why wouldn’t they go to their current school if they stave off thirst. By dinner time I was lying in bed, staring lived with me,” I’d asked — for all his blustering talk, I’d at the ceiling and sobbing. What I did in the intervening held on to the hope, till the end, that they would come hours I cannot say. Seventeen years had gone, gone at with me. the first whiff of sandalwood, the damned whiff of “Because,” he said with avuncular patience, “if they Chandan who was now filling my husband’s life with his lived with you they would have to go to a cheaper odious fragrance. Once only, on a weekend, I positioned school.” myself near the house to see what they were all up to, “Then include the fees in the maintenance,” I said, this new family. And I saw them going off to some lunch “and as for the rest, the children and I will manage.” party — new friends, no doubt — piling happy and eager “Will you,” he said, tight-lipped. “You’d better talk to into the Pajero, carrying a magnificent iced cake made Nidhi then.” by, who else, Chandan.

So I did. But Nidhi said, “Mamma, Pratik and I want to I never spied on them again. stay here. We anyway hardly see you during the week. I That is, till I discovered that I still had the keys to the don’t want to leave my room. Papa says if we live with house buried in my purse. you it will be in a small two-bedroom flat. How can I call I entered the house mid-morning on a Monday. All my friends there? Where will I put my piwas safely silent. I did a sort of inspection ano? Pratik feels the same.” tour. There were plump, new silk cushions I admired my daughter then. She’ll go on the sofa, making the place look rather far in this world. opulent. In the kitchen, Chandan had I want my things to be So it was that I moved into a small, bare moved my prized knife set from its place on my dressing table, flat. It was only a short bus-ride away, but it near the hob. It now sparkled in a sunny I thought, as I stared was made clear by my husband that I spot by the window, next to a new pot of vidown at the male ought to let everyone get on with their olets, making it look a bit like a magazine colognes and lives and not try to insinuate myself photograph. I opened the fridge. Strawberhairbrush among them. Give it at least a year, he said, ry milk for Pratik, raisin bread for Nidhi, in his most reasonable voice. A clean, low-cholesterol margarine for my hussharp break for the children. Don’t ruin band, all was in order as it should be. Then things for them. upstairs to the bedroom. I expected my I stuck to my daily morning schedule. I woke up at 6 breath to catch when I went in there. But strangely, it am. I rode a bus to my old home and stood at a discreet didn’t. It’s not like we’d been active in that department distance across the road, watching the children get into lately. I only cared for my home. I wanted it back, desperthe school bus. The first time I did that, Pratik waved. ately. I want my things to be on my dressing table, I Nidhi looked furtively at me and nodded. Then she thought, as I stared down at the male colognes and hairpulled at his arm and glanced at her friends to see if they brush near the gnarled mark on the wood that looked had noticed the strange staring woman across the like a stack of pancakes. I want to cook for my children, I street. The next day I didn’t wave. But I knew that they thought, staring at the tired face in the mirror. knew I was there.

When I left, I had a plan.

I had no job and no experience of working. The tatThe next day, and the next, and the next, I escaped my tered half-life I led was one in which minutes seemed dreary flat, and hung out at home. Why not? For at least like hours, and an hour simply something invented to a few hours a day, I went back to my normal life and acdrive me to insanity. After the bus left, all semblance of tivities. I tidied up the children’s rooms upstairs. I did a routine disintegrated. But for the school bus, I wouldn’t bit of ironing, taking care not to iron anything that behave left my bed. For weeks, breakfast before the bus was longed to Chandan. Some dusting. Useful things that

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Feeding the fire “There’s nothing wrong with cooking one’s food,” Mista spoke quietly. “It makes food tastier, in fact.” afp/noah seelami

manu v bhattathiri

nobody would notice. I watched television, made myself tions to the housekeeping, I began to feel like a disemsome light lunch. Chandan appeared to be a good bodied spirit, cravenly wandering about the empty housekeeper. But this house was none of his business. It house, a sneaky intruding presence, a ghost fixer of was mine. Each day, after a short nap on the sofa, where I snacks. This house was mine and yet not mine. lay with one of our old novels from the bookshelf, I left Then came a day when I was so restless, I found myself the house at precisely 3 pm. And I made sure that every- making an enormous lasagne. I moved through my thing was just as I’d found it. kitchen — with something remotely akin to joy, I supBut I started wondering what would happen if I made pose — mincing, chopping, baking, agitation falling the kids a snack before I left. I missed feeding them. So I away from me in veils. As a cheesy aroma wafted out made some cheese toasties and put them on the kitchen from the oven, I began making some pea soup, never island where the children always ate perched on high once considering what I would do with all this food. In stools. my mind I had even started on a cherry cake for dessert.

Then I hid. I went into the store cupboard by the back And I stopped myself just as it occurred to me that I was door and peeped out. I had an excellent view of half the going to have to lug the lasagne back to my flat. In fruskitchen. Right on time I heard the front tration at having brought myself to a door open and my children came into the screeching halt, I began cleaning the kitchis appalling!” kitchen. Pratikhis looked warily aboutSunna him, exclaimed, hear me?” en. I scrubbed it to a state of divine glitter. throwing her hands youto the Puchki but then sat and ate. Nidhi lookedin atthe theair. “Now of taking the sofa,toI her. then, But heinstead knew not in whattomanner I crept door, heardAnd it right front us, right crouching here! At low cheese toasties,dofelt them in with heroffinger, fell onto the soft, duvet-covered bed the speak to his daughter.

He found it insulting to hisinposilike a least have some respect realised they were still warm, walkedfor toyour grandfabedroom sleep. tion of powerguest in the family toand be collapsed disobeyedinto by the girlI rat or some such ther or your father.” the window and stared out. She appeared hadn’t so deeply in up. months.

And I had who seemed to haveslept suddenly grown And disobeyed vermin spoke.Then The family was sitting to dinner he would be, ahedream: to No be one thinking. she walked back down to thatifthe had dark; was sure, sheroom wasn’t in turned the mood to at usual and clearing into the Sunna was exasperat- humour him.and thethe toasties began eatforest. after dousing that there a dark human shape sitMista could bewas cold and strong. ed at her teenage daughter Mista.Pratik.

The bickering bethem in ketchup.

“Didi,” began ting atMista’s the foot of joint the bed. with They all watched meat roastI woke over the fire.a tween the two frequent than “Shut up,” she was said.more As the food disapgasp my throat —The andmeat found that it was It wasinfrightening. changed colanyone cared for,mouths but it was only ex- black weight indeed dark. our peared into their I felt as iftoabe small To my horror, I could hear faintlicked clink it. of at the points where thethe flames pected.

Mista was the next age where in my stomach wasentering lifting. The day I was in my ele- cutlery and glass.

The dim red glow of a It digital on It turned dark, like death. even clock gave off girls their mothers could hardly ment.and I stitched on missing buttons of sit shirts and trouthe wall showed 8 pm. Mysmell. heartBut began banging against an ungainly what was worse was They all watched down eat together in the same clearing. sers, I to sorted socks into pairs, I tidied Nidhi’s wardrobe thejoint walls of my chest, asmoonlight if it would they leap out and that in the could seeescape grayMista's meat “You’re surePratik’s you’re craft never,box. everI in the and sortedsoout vacuumed the over top the in fire. terror, me to smoke my ownsnake devices. ish, slimy up from the meat. roast It leaving wrong. melower sometimes,” floor oneYou dayscare and the floor theSunna next. And every I crept to the door, crouching low like a rat or Mista some None of them could understand how wasday frightening went on, but her husband, wisely I prepared anPuchki, after-school snack for my children and such vermin.could I opened the door crack.

And I saw them eventually eata that food. gestured for her toit. calm down. Young Miswatched them eat all sitting around the is table, ensconced thecooking yellow “There nothing wronginin ta Iappeared as shethat continbegan to icily find unmoved it odd, though, they never talked glow of the ceiling lamp.Mista Eating dinner.

To my one’s food,” spoke quietly.

“It amazemakes ued to me. slowly roastfor her dinner a fire. about So just one day I over decided toAskip the snack ment, the lasagne was onin the table. eating it. food tastier, fact.

YouThey are sowere against it bebead of sweat appeared on theSome dip in herany throat, lin- cause and watch for signs of distress. sign, sign. But Apparently, Brij and hadit’s no new, idea that you refuse to the try children it. Because and they you gered around a whilelooked and then rapidly snaked down her haven’t that day they simply at the empty kitchen island, were eating same lasagne I had made every other seen the it before.”

But it was to Puchki she spoke, bare chest to the leaf her hips. helped themselves toskirt someon cookies, and went upstairs. I not week years. A piece of paper crinkled in my pocket. tofor her17mother.

“But it’s making sweat!” mother said to the farealised then how her much they the simply wanted a lack of I fished it turned out. It was note: “Don’t dinneratagain.

Puchki andalooked a triflemake helplessly his fa-I ther, worried beyond measure. you think thisThey will ther disruption.

That’s all that these“Do children wanted. like cooking.”

Fuhara. This old man, the most ancient one in their do Mista any good?

Youme. know fire does; it burns didn’t want me or need I waswhat frightened at how little tribe, was sacred, aloof and mysterious. No one knew tejaswini ’s first things It’s clear as the bright holes in the sky. I how I meantdown! to anyone. old heapte-rahm was, because allshort whostory werecollection, aroundThese at the time is forthcoming Circuses that were Sweepnow Through Landscapes, talk good, youand hearit me?

But clear of course, I’mnew the of Asfor theher days passed, became that the his birth longthe dead.

Some even said he was from Aleph later thishe year bad one here.

Because I’mwith the only one who You immortal, family was doing just fine or without my talks. contributhat was as old as the bright holes in the

These newfangled ways

“T

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dipankar

arjun raj gaind

One Maharaja too many I

t had been some years since I had found a reason to It was something about the eyes, I imagine, that spookvisit Bombay. ed him, a predatory quality, the unwavering intensity of The last time I had been here, I had thought it a hunter who has at last, managed to close in on his elurather a crass, provincial entrepôt, barely worthy of sive prey. being called a city. But now, as 1909 waned and a new After a moment’s hesitation, I was ushered into a pridecade approached, business was booming. There was vate morning-room, a dimly lit parlour furnished in a much talk of war looming in Europe, and with such ru- style that could only be described as mock Georgian. At mours came renewed prosperity for the colonies. The the centre of the room, a satinwood Hepplewhite table mills were working overtime, droves of immigrants stood, matched by two brocade covered gentlemen’s were pouring in, and the acrid stench of greed seemed chairs. Fidgeting impatiently, I took one, trying to keep to permeate the very air, making me want to gasp. my excitement from getting the better of me.

I had been halfway to Aden when a chance remark The man I had travelled so far to meet kept me waiting from a stranger drove me to disembark at Karachi. Thir- for the better part of an hour. Just as I was beginning to ty-nine long and exhausting hours later, lose patience, the door swung open, and he after changing trains at Kotri and Mirpur finally made an entry, traipsing in as louKhas, I finally arrived at the Colaba Termichely as a Cavalier. nus. The man I had travelled such a dis- He was younger than I “Good morning,” he said, offering me tance to see was staying nearby, at one hand. “I am Sikander Singh, the Mahaexpected, with a Watson’s Hotel, in the heart of the Esplaraja of Rajpore.” sharpness to his nade district. I had never been there beTentatively, I took his hand, making evfeatures that made fore, but it was said to be frequented by ery effort not to wrinkle my nose, for he me dislike him only the most discerning of travellers. My was wearing far too much Trumper’s Cofirst impression when I reached its threshlogne for my liking. To my relief, he did not old was that this exalted reputation was seem to notice my reticence. Instead, smilsomewhat overrated, for it was rather an ing affably, he took the chair I had vacated ugly building, its gaudy edifice dressed by an excess of so recently, settling into it with a theatrical groan. cast iron, making it seem more like a prison than a hotel.

I took a moment to study him intently. He certainly Inside, it was equally hideous, Minton tiles and plas- looked the part, dressed in a well-cut mohair suit in a ter molding and damask wallpaper everywhere you discreet shade of grey herringbone, although he had turned, and an oddly shaped glass atrium that was fight- chosen to pair it with a red silk vest that was unnecessaing a losing battle against a relentless flock of pigeons. rily startling. He was younger than I had expected, with a Stifling a grimace, I wasted no time in presenting my let- sharpness to his features that made me dislike him. His ter of introduction to the concierge, explaining that I hair was just a smidgen too long, smeared with an exhad telephoned ahead to arrange an appointment. The cess of brilliantine, and his smile too ready, too conviviman eyed me with more than a hint of suspicion; I did al. A callow man, I thought, much too sure of himself, not much look the part of a box-wallah, although I had which meant he was a man who could not be trusted. been careful to dress conservatively, in a simple achkan.

“Well,” he said, peering down at my calling card,

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“What can I do for you?” they made even someone as jaded as myself sit up with a “I am surprised that I was able to catch you, Your High- gasp. ness. I heard you had departed for Suez on the Mooltan “I find myself gripped by the need to liquidate a fracfour days ago.” tion of my personal assets with some degree of haste, His face hardened. “My itinerary is no concern of and require a trustworthy man to sell these baubles for yours,” he said frostily. “I am a busy man, and have no me discreetly.” time to waste making chit-chat.”

“Why not sell them yourselves, Your Majesty?”

“Forgive me,” I replied. “I meant no offence.” Leaning “That is exactly what I cannot do,” he replied with a forward, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I have heard, frown. “I cannot afford for the English to find out about Your Majesty, from a reliable source that you have some my debts. Unfortunately, I already have all too colourful personal items you wish to dispose of. That is why I am a reputation, and have managed to make far too many here.” enemies in high places. If they were to find out that I had Pursing his lips, he took a good long while to examine lost such a fortune wagering at cards, they would be me. I held my breath nervously, trying to seem as innoc- quick to try and remove me from my throne and supuous as I could, as benign. What did he make of what he plant me with my uncle. No, what I need is a proxy, a saw? I wondered. A man of about 40, dusty from an ar- man who can broker the sale for me, and do so quietly.” duous journey, his hair tonsured close to his skull, a fine He looked at me, arching one expressive brow. “Of beard, if on the shaggy side, gaunt cheekcourse, such a man can expect to be handbones, certainly not handsome, but with somely recompensed.” the rigid posture and bearing of someone “What exactly did you have in mind?” who was not afraid of trouble.

He responded by waving one hand disIt is my natural state “Can I trust you?” he asked at last. missively, as if to say it was beneath him to not to accept “I assure you, you most surely can.” anything or anyone at speak of money.

“Excellent!” he smiled, a disarming grin “I would be happy to offer, say 10 per face value that would have worked on most people, cent, as a commission.” but I have found that I have always had an “A generous offer,” I countered, “but 20 immunity to charming people. They make per cent would be much more enticing.” me suspicious, for it is my natural state not Another smile, baring an expanse of to accept anything or anyone at face value. “As it occurs, I sharkish teeth. “I think I could manage that.” find myself in a bit of a bind. A little over a year ago, you “In that case, sir, I am your man.” I reached out to gathsee, I discovered a love of fan-tan. It is a Chinese card er up the pouch, but he forestalled me by clearing his game, rather popular amongst the less than reputable throat rather pointedly. dipankar set.”

“Hold on for a moment. You do not think I shall just “I am familiar with it.” hand over a fortune in rubies to a complete stranger, do “Ah, a man of the world! Well, to my regret, my enthu- you? There are contracts to sign, and of course, I shall resiasm for the game rather exceeded my skill, and as a re- quire a small advance to satisfy my more eager sult, I find myself in the hole, so to say, towards rather a creditors.” generous sum.”

“What manner of advance?” I asked warily.

“That,” he pointed at me, “is where you come into the “I was thinking of about a thousand guineas.” picture.”

That number caused me to let out a low whistle. Even Reaching into the inside pocket of his blazer, he though gold guineas were no longer minted, the equivpulled out a chamois pouch, tossing it carelessly onto alent value in pounds sterling was a little over 1 pound, the table between us. It had to be a carefully contrived or 21 shillings, per guinea, to be precise. And at the conmove, for the mouth of the purse fell open and out version rate of roughly 15 rupees to a pound, it meant a poured a stream of rubies, a blood-red mound of flaw- 1000 guineas would be equal to roughly 20,000 rupees, less stones the size of grapes, glinting so brightly that which was a princely sum indeed.

catriona mitchell

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16 coconuts to Pillaiyaradi

Warakapola Polonnaruwa In Warakapola we stop for the first time, at the Bhadra- At Habarana, we did not even take the turning to ancient kali-Hanuman kovil by a hill on the A1 highway, the first Anuradhapura, and so we don’t stop the car as we drive of many roads on this journey. We climb the few stairs to by the ruins at Polonnaruwa. Maybe one day we will be the temple to see its strangely companionable deities, tourists. but our grandfather gets out of the vehicle only for the We stop to let elephants cross, led shackled. We stop Pillaiyar at its base. He holds a dried coconut with both for sightings of peacocks. We stop to pee, desperately, in hands, and circles it in the air, making his entreaties to a squatting latrine behind a mechanic shop, and miss the god of beginnings. And then he breaks it open on the Perera & Sons we passed somewhere so long ago, the ground, using his better arm. On the second try, it with its semi-clean toilets and freshly-baked meringue cracks open. kisses. We stop so our grandfather can break the third We bought the coconuts as we left Wellacoconut, outside the compound of a Sivan kovil. watte and divided them into two bags. One is in the backseat, the other lodged beManampity tween the driver and my grandfather, in He holds a dried We stop twice. Two Pillaiyars, a hundred the front. They must not be stepped on. We coconut with both yards apart. Two curved trunks. Two unstretch our limbs out and try to sleep.

Nobody tells us — although there are hands, and circles it in broken tusks. Two coconuts lighter, the the air, making his van door trundles noisily shut. those in the van who know — that it will be entreaties to the god 10 hours to Batticaloa, in all.

Muthugal of beginnings. And Habarana then he breaks it In April 1992, 61 Muslim villagers in Alanopen on the ground chipothana were hacked to death in their It will be years later, looking at a map, that I

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will remember that by the time the second coconut was broken, we were already twothirds of the way deep into the island. I will realise this at the same moment I realise why: the closer we get to Tamil country, the more kovils there still are.

This is the first time in our lives we will visit our grandfather’s oor. Which is also, in ways the places we were raised in and have lived in never will be, also ours. It’s complicated knowledge to carry, rough-husked, hollow All that glitters “What manner of advance?,” Iand askedheavy warily.at “I once. was thinking of a thousand guineas.” shutterstock

sleep by the LTTE. In an act of retaliation, police personnel visited the same upon the newly awake villagers of nearby Muthugal and Karapola, early the following

morning.

I don’t know what our grandfather prays for, most deeply, and I will never ask. It is rare, is it not, to know? So we say litanies of that which we think we want. Whilst our truest desires lurk far beneath, unspoken, unopened. I don’t believe we pray for the things we most want. They are almost always the things we never had,

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Raising my fingers to my lips, I let out a piercing whis“Is that too rich for your blood?”

Rather than responding to this jibe, I picked up one of tle. Immediately, the door clattered open, and in the rubies and held it up to catch the light. Delving into marched an enormous Sikh, flanked by two khaki-clad my cummerbund, I extracted a small Zeiss magnifying Naiks of the Bombay Constabulary.

“Arrest him,” I commanded, “He is an impostor, a conglass, intending to examine the stone more carefully.

“What exactly do you think you are doing?” he fidence trickster.”

The big Sikh laughed and lumbered straight over to squawked. His easy bonhomie had vanished, replaced instead by a barely repressed outrage. “Do you dare to the so-called Maharaja, one massive hand closing on the back of his neck as he hauled him bodily to his feet. doubt my word?”

“What...what is the meaning of this?” The man’s “Not at all, sire. It’s just the old adage. Caveat Emptor, mouth gaped open, utterly stunned by this unexpected Buyer beware!”

I offered him a rueful shrug, but he was not amused, turn of events.

I let out a bemused chuckle. “It was an interesting not in the slightest.

“You may show yourself out,” he said, his tone so cold plan,” I said, “a variation of the Spanish Prisoner I have not encountered before. You assumed that it could have made an Eskimo shiver. “I the Maharaja’s name and these opulent shall find someone else to assist me.” surroundings, coupled with innate hu“Please, huzoor, I made a mistake,” I wheedled, trying to sound servile, even man greed, would be enough to get me to The man’s mouth though it was something to which I was advance you a thousand guineas in exgaped open, utterly entirely unaccustomed. Bowing my head, I change for these gemstones. And of stunned by this made a great show of feigning remorse as I course, by the time I realised they were unexpected turn replaced the ruby on the table. “I did not counterfeit, you would be long gone, along of events mean to impugn Your Majesty, not in the with my money.” least.”

“It might even have worked, but sadly, Thankfully, he was gullible enough to you made one cardinal mistake. You chose buy my act, affected though it was. the wrong Maharaja to impersonate. After “Very well! I take it we have an arrangement then,” he all, the success of a good swindle is always in the details, said, rather too genially. and if you had spent a little more time getting your re“I am glad to say we do. I shall have a draft drawn up search right, you would have realised the man you are for the requisite sum immediately.” trying to pose as does not like to shake hands. Also, you “No!” He interjected hastily, “I would prefer cash. I in- use far too much perfume for any respectable gentletend to leave for France tomorrow, and I have no time to man, and the state of your fingernails, frankly, is chase down bankers.” deplorable.”

I bit back a smile, realising that I had him now, hook, Turning to the policemen, I nodded. “You may take line and sinker. him away now.”

“That is very irregular,” I said, furrowing my brow hesEven as they clapped manacles around his wrists and itantly. “I am not used to dealing with such large bundled him towards the door, he wrestled free and amounts of currency.” turned to face me.

The slightest hint of dismay flickered across his fea“Wait,” he exclaimed, “Who are you? Tell me your tures, a mere frisson, but for someone with my observa- name, damn you!” tional capacities, it was as good as a grimace.

“Oh,” I grinned, bowing slightly, “I guess I forgot to in“I understand, but nonetheless, I am afraid, I must in- troduce myself. My name is Sikander Singh, and I am, sist. It is cash, or nothing.” amongst other things, the Maharaja of Rajpore.”

He sat back, crossing his arms expectantly. I spent a few minutes pretending to dither, as was expected, be- arjun raj gaind is the author of the non-fiction graphic novel Empire of Blood. His first prose novel, A Very Pukka Murder, will be fore sighing in surrender. released by HarperCollins later this year “Very well, huzoor. As you wish!”

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saturday, january 23,23, 2016 saturday, january 2016

Slippery slopes “He goes on to tell me how, delirious with bhaang, he fell face-first on the Banaras ghats, lost two of his incisors and probably broke his jaw. I react to the ‘probably’, so he tells me that he hasn’t visited the doctor yet” akhilesh kumar

Hey there! I’m using WhatsApp Change ringing The sound of music High up in the steeple, the bell rings just once, and I breathe out shutterstock/franco nadalin

tanuj solanki

paul mm cooper

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girl tells me that I transition to Hindi in the before the money comes,” she says. She mentions ‘No Wed Dec 2middle of chat like no one else she knows. I Objection Sat Dec 5 Affidavits’. The word ‘affidavits’ stresses me Having serious concerns re:feel Mrs Henderson andafterthe further. say “Sachchi?” and silly immediately When I Then close she up tells the church notice one of the bell’s me thatImy brother’s application cakes. Am convinced sheshe is doing it on purpose.

More on wards. Then tells me that her friends in for frames is developing rust.inAhis serious problem re: the tuition fee relaxation university requires anbell afo rotation. time is ofsolicyear this later, havesay to “No pickya” up and the girls from school.

Malad always “Ya man”.

I don’t respond, fidavit being able to do its full 360Income’. specifying ‘Mother’s MyThis opinion always v stressful re: getting ready as forzero Christmas morncar, the girls like her, since forInI the have noCarol clueasks whyme I’mifeven chatting with her.their We ited: should she specify her income or should she ing bell-ringing.

Whole parish listening, so start I am getting keen to mother leaving I say yes, she hasyears a spirit of but genecould have beenand in aall. relationship a few back it include my father’s pension, which she will createthe the coming proper cascade been terrirosity and exuberance are happy I am hap- from is unlikely that we will and everthey consider such that a thing now. month?effect.

WhenWeather I don’thas respond, she ble, floods some all places: politicians in wellies py.Mother She looks doubtful. tells me that her application for getting a gov- asks me to in discuss the issues with my uncle, on mythe fanews. The moss on younger the church roof isI getting thick too. ernment job on compassionate grounds ther’s brother. say “Achcha”.

Thurs Dec 3 (filed after my father died two months There are a series of dirty jokes on a Mon Dec 7 Definitely on purpose re:failure) the cakes.

I believe back of a sudden heart is stuck.

I Mrs Hendergroup called ‘Panchayat’. The group has This year more stressful, re: Carol son is trying to increase her know that being stuck is a influence bad thingover for guys (and =noeven girls) from my engineering There are a series of and introducing to the parthe bell-ringers. practice is dirty jokes on a group school, any application, This but IThursday’s don’t know what to from bothher theproperly senior and junior ish.

Not a trivial moment: they were v keen a strawberry-and-cream sponge, say because I don’t know Victoria how I can be of batches.

I can’t avoid being a part of it, alcalled ‘Panchayat’ The bell-ringers see on Janice.

But Carol has a generous withhelp littlefrom pieces of freshThen mintshe in the icing. any Mumbai. tells me though I almost never read the jokes.heart, Even me as capable and and a Ispirit of exuberance, I am always Feel the rush to my face will when I seeto it. that myblood father’s gun licence need when do, they never makeasme laugh.

At knowledgeable, they least telling her.

The girls to be adjusting, Other bell-ringers say and my cheesecake is v be transferred to me, she details the one person gets seem married every month look up to me quietly and though they do not tell me as much they good:points no comments about whether set finer of the necessary paperwork. posts pictures of him and his as brand usedwith to. vermilion and gold jewellery and properly not. Much anxietysend previously.

She typesorslowly but presses as early and as fre- new wife, loaded Mrs Henderson not At making eyethis contact quently as possible. my end, leads to suspense. plastic bangles. It is common for honeymoon photos Wed Dec 9 the whole time.

She goes on to tell me that three of my father’s bank ac- from one to be followed by really dirty jokes by another. church, counting thesomemonWe practise changea considerable ringing. The sum bell-of money, do counts, each holding One of myClosing juniorsthe asks me a just question about ey andatlocking when I notice a bundle clothes in ringers as capable and knowledgeable, they look thing not havesee anyme nominees and that inheritance will require work. up I say “No,” without really of considering the porch.

Probably Gladys road leaving donaup to mea formal quietly.claim Mrs Henderson not receptive to critimaking before the District Magistrate in what she has asked. She saysdown “Ok” the immediately.

I considtions think: have warned her before re: putting cism as always. IShe amactually comforted by the weight at end er my hometown. writes ‘Masigrate’ forthe Magistheagain, matterI closed. the donations chestmessage so they to aren’t of theMah rope,cigarette invisibledoesn’t high inmake the tower, by the predetertrate. me smile.

Kafka, proc- donations My unclein writes an incomplete me indamp Hinwhen sentItto Barnardo’s — who understanding, to mined order of chimes. ess: that’s what I’m thinking. “It may take six months di script. can be translated as:are “Atvfirst I thought that

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some…” I consider telling him of the affidavits that need ishis, and trying to make a documentary on some prito be made, then decide against it for no specific reason. vate school. Interested, I tell him that we can talk at My girlfriend, who is in Delhi, tells me that she loves length over the phone, but he insists on the chat medime. “Okay,” I reply absent-mindedly. Then I realise that I um, calling it ‘mystical’. am committing a blunder and say “Main bhi”.

He announces that he is, first and foremost, a docuMy brother shares his views about 1984 by George Or- mentary filmmaker. He announces that he is very good well, a book that I pushed him to read. I like that he feels at his craft. I say “Hmm” to both statements. He is typing free to discuss stuff with me. He tells me that he doubts feverishly, as if in the midst of an epiphany. He asks me: if there was any real war going on in the world that the “Why is it that while non-fiction books are favoured, no book describes. I tell him about war propaganda, how it one fucking wants to watch docu-s.” I have no answer, so is often used by the State to unite its subjects. He says I blame it on the excessive technical capabilities of cine“Hmm”. I ask him if he knows ma. “There’s this ability to what ‘dystopian’ means, and I grant a visual to any express my disapproval imagination, no?” “So?” when he says he doesn’t. I he asks. “So cinema auexplain dystopia to him. “It dience always expects is a world where things are the spectacular,” I say. bad, really bad.” Then I tell “But enough number him what utopia is. of people watch realist“Hmm,” he says. Then, afrealist cinema and feel ter a few seconds of sigood about it. So why lence, he asks me: “Is it not docu-s??” I’m out of correct to say that our life my depth already, but I is a dystopia after our fapersist: “Because realther’s death?” I don’t ist cinema delivers a know what to answer. story, a classic sense of “Depends,” I say. “Dystothe story.” My friend pia is really bad times, rightfully responds, like in Terminator 3,” I “That’s bullshit. Docuadd. “Hmm,” he says. mentaries deliver stoThere is chat-silence ries too. And I got no again, post which I say: clue what you mean by “Let’s see it another way. the ‘classic sense’.”

Our life wasn’t a utopia Sensing that the conwhen papa was there, versation cannot prowas it?” “No, I guess,” he ceed in this direction, I says. Then I ask him if ask him, “Anyway, there is a specific book what’s up otherwise?” that he wants to read He tells me that the real next. He can’t think of reason he cannot talk is anything. I ask if he that he has a ‘big oral inwould like to read anjury’. He goes on to tell other dystopian novel, me how, delirious with bhaang, he fell face-first something like 1984.

“Yes,” he says. We decide on the Banaras ghats, on Darkness at Noon by lost two of his incisors Arthur Koestler and I and probably broke his buy him a copy from jaw. I react to the ‘probaAmazon. bly’, so he tells me that A friend asks me if I he hasn’t visited the docwould consider accompator yet. When I press him nying him on a long weekfor reasons, he says, “Need Lingua franca “She tells me that her friends in Malad always say ‘No ya’ and ‘Ya man’” ap end to Pattaya. His plan is to to get some money from whore around like “Fuckthe school docu.” I’m woring MAD”. ried, but I’m not really A friend of mine recommends a Pakistani novel. He worried about him, for I know that he will come out of it says, “It works at an emotional level.” I ask, “What does like he comes out of all situations. He is ten times Dean that mean?” He ignores my question and tells me in- Moriarty, I’ve told him many times. I tell him that again. stead what the book is about. “It is about three genera- “You have to write a fat book about me,” he says. “I’ll start tions of a family in Karachi.” I wonder if I can ever write one day,” I answer. After that he asks me about my girlfanything about three generations of my riend. I disappoint him: “Yup, we are very family, but I don’t share this with him. He much together.” There is some chat-sialways advises me to write about my famlence then, post which he asks, “So how ily, and he is probably right. Suddenly I are you coping otherwise?” Confused feel alone in the world. I ask him if he can whether this question is about my relaMy girlfriend says recommend some books for my 18-yeartionship or about my father’s demise, I “I love you” with that old brother. He mentions The Hitchhiker’s say “Alright” and nothing more. emoticon that has a lipstick mark next to a Guide by Douglas Adams. “But Adams’s Mother tells me that she wants to coukiss. It means lip kiss. It books are happy books?” I say. “Yes,” he rier some affidavits to me so that I can says. “I think my bro wants a sad book,” I means I need to send the sign them and courier them back. “Theek lip kiss back. I do that hai,” I reply. But then she asks me if I know say. My friend doesn’t respond to that, alany courier-waalas in our hometown. I though he is shown to be ‘typing…’ by google, but I find nothing. “Let me see,” I the app. tell her, but I don’t really know how and My girlfriend says “I love you” with where to see it. After some minutes, she that emoticon that has a lipstick mark next to a kiss. It means lip kiss. It means I need to send writes, “I feel like asking your father to send the courier.” the lip kiss back. I do that. I say “I love you”. I do love her. I I know that she is crying just now. I don’t call her benotice that she has increased saying it after my father cause I don’t know how to cry, I don’t know how to console. passed away.

Another friend of mine, a struggler who is convinced that he is a filmmaker, updates me in long paragraphs. tanuj solanki is a two-time runner-up in the DNA-Out of Print He has spent the last two weeks in Banaras, drinking short fiction contest. His first novel, Neon, Noon will be published by bhaang, discussing life and cosmos with ghatside jyot- HarperCollins in 2016

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The peacemakers Normalcy was restored everywhere — in the newspapers, on the radio and on television; everywhere, that is, except in our hearts arunangsu roy chowdhury

which comprised a motley group of unemployed youth, biggest businessmen in town identified it as the body of English-speaking college students and retired havildars a hardened dacoit and black marketer. This greedy felfrom the army, would roam around the neighbourhood low was apparently out and about during the riots suparmed with hockey sticks, rods and sundry other ‘weap- plying essential commodities to locked-up families and ons’. However, these soon proved to be a pain in the neck charging them exorbitant prices for it. Unlike our busifor the residents as under the guise of random checks ness class, who were scared for their property and were and searches the patrols would enter different houses, carefully hoarding goods waiting for the curfew to lift, ogle the women and polish off food. Moreover, their de- this fellow being a criminal and a dacoit himself had no mands for chanda and chai-paani were getting to be ex- such fears. In fact, he was even greedier than our politicorbitant and again there was a bitter divide among the ians for he made no distinction between communities residents on the effectiveness and organisation of the when he went to supply his goods. Driven by the lure of defence committees. money he would visit any locality and apparently operGiven the situation, however, these comated throughout the city unlike our public mittees were a necessary evil for the situaservants who had disappeared during that tion did not look like it would be resolved time and would not do anything no matter quickly. The police seemed unable to come how big the bribe. up with any clue of the head’s identity and When I read this news, I realised that perThe boundaries Labsorts rat “What was he doing Why had hetocome? had no memory. felt like a groundnut in itswas shell. the Wouldmost the shell open if man he kicked all of parties werehere? threatening go He remain haps this honest in intactHe today shutterstock/maxal tamor I wanted to go over to the Police it? He couldn’t moveifhis legs.

Howwas hadnot theyhanded closed the metal on Iallguess sides?”they on the warpath the head town. but are over. Blood was about to spill on the Headquarters to salute this brave, misguidonly for the living streets when the police announced a ed soul but then I thought the better of it. breakthrough.

Firstly, they would just have demanded a They had found the body. The police had bribe to show the body and secondly, I am a been dredging the naala for clues and it law-abiding educated person — why would was here that they found a headless body along with I want to get involved with the police? So I really didn’t some clothes stuffed into a gunny sack. The entire town get to see either the body or the head first-hand and I heaved a sigh of relief. Some personal items had been don’t even know what happened to them for nothing found in the sack, and we were sure that the case would further was reported. Perhaps they are still lying forgotbe resolved pretty quickly now and trouble would be ten in some dusty corner of the Police Headquarters. In avoided. But it was not to be, for another controversy any case, the media and the townspeople have moved now erupted. on to other scandals by now.

You see, while the head had been found in Gandhi BaLately, a new rumour has come up in town. A number Chapter 1 zaar, the body had been found near Ghanta Ghar. And of nopeople memory.

He felt like seen a groundnut in its shell.

Would claim to have a ghost walking around at thus arose a fight between two different police stations night the shell open he kicked He couldn’t his legs. with its ifhead in itsit? hands.

Beforemove this rumour opened his eyes.

Then he closed them, there regarding kilan the jurisdiction of the case.

After Pratap How had they closed thepeople metal on allwould sides?be Didgoing they out put were at least a few who and opened them again.

Singh’s speech, the case had assumed political over- at him to sleep, and even makethat a mould out of fibreglass? night, but now has stopped.

Ask anyoneHis in Thepressure second time, he looked — with tones and with coming in fromaround a number of town head pounded: krrrr, Heit.tried hold on night to his and they will tellkrrr, youkrrrr. about EverytoSaturday theofficers blank involved stare of awanted persontowhose thoughts quarters the just wash it off this thoughts, they slipping He Bazaar looked to blankghost but walks allkept the way fromaway.

Gandhi Muhave been wiped clean, trying figurestation out where is. nirka their hands.

The Gandhi BazaartoPolice SHO he even ly around at his back surroundings.

He was and walks again towards thelying earlydown, hourshis of A white of stating paper that hasmedia never that beensince written on, morning. went onsheet record to the 75 per limbs splayed Theyout. say that this is the ghost of that same an unburned DVD, empty slate: thatGhanta kind of clean. cent of the body hadan been found in the Ghar ar- headless His exact height, exact width the pod dacoit whohis was killed while—trying to had crossbeen the There wasthat some sort ofGhar loose connection hiswould brain.be It boundary ea, it was Ghanta Police Station in that tailor-made tofor do him. his dirty black marketeering. was a strugglethe to case. thinkThe clearly, as though his mind had investigating Ghanta Ghar police too were To his side were some feather-touch glowing The boundaries remain intact todaybuttons, but I guess they been restarted in safethe mode. unwilling to accept case, as it had already been are blue. only for the living.

He was to see thatpolice he was in some of opened in shocked the Gandhi Bazaar station andkind as that Has someone locked me inside a giant computer servrahul mitra’s novel The Boy from Pataliputra will be published steelwhere incubator. was the trouble had first started. er by mistake?

Publications later thiswere year difficult to describe. It Whatdeadlock was he doing here?sorted Why had come?

The was finally outhe when oneHe of had the by Fingerprint The devices inside the pod

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swapnamoy chakraborty

The fathers of Jangalmahal

was like being in the stomach of an ultrasound maHe pressed one. chine. Directly above his head were some bubble con“It is 5.10 am,” said a woman’s voice. trols. Like the settings dial on a clothes iron, for The programmed digital voice startled him. After woollens or silk or whatever. that, there was no sound.

What kind of place is this? Why am I here? Was I capAm I taking part in some sort of competition, to see tured? Are we playing hide-and-seek? how many hours one can stand to be alone in one place?

“Hey!” he said, pointlessly. There was no way his voice Is this a game? He wished for a TV, a tablet, some books, a would be heard outside the pod, he was sure. chess set. There were no such articles to pass the time.

What a fix this is! Cha! He tried to rewind. Yesterday He could sleep, just keep sleeping. The bed was the onhad been Vinodini’s birthday. Like a good boy, he’d ly thing there… and those buttons. Akilan pressed the wished her “Happy Birthday, Chellam!” at 12 am via cell same button again. “It is 5.12 am,” it said. Had it really phone text. On Facebook, a silly chat exchange — Today is been only two minutes? Immediately, he pressed the a golden day, a day with a beautiful dawn. A smiley emoji next button. in reply.

“Food or Water?”

1 “Let’s go to a theme park,” had been her simple 3 “Food,” said Akilan. s Harihar Samanta mentally unstable? Why does he jay Giri a clerk at the BDO’s office. His daughter request.

There was is a quiet hum. frequently take the train from Jhargram to Tatanahas epilepsy.

She’salmost been having frequent fitsto. and seiAt the theme park they’d had pepper popcorn, Coke, “Enough,” he said, without meaning Inexforgetting to buyice a ticket? wishes the plicably, zures forhis thestomach past twowas months. chips,gar, andnever Italian Delight flavour cream,He which made full. galattahave in the stomach. That On top of that, the trainawould an accident. it would crumJadunath a peon at the office.

He says there’s for quite “That is forTudu one is week,” said same woman’s voice. a rides were turning and spinning two ple like therough, Jnaneshwari Express did. Andthe that heyoung would very good doctorstop in his village.

Not incanta“For oneayurvedic week? Santosh, joking around, da!” He lovers, die. testing them. tions or the holythird water, he gives medicines. Makes the pills pressed button.

She had worn a yellow yellow Harihar Samanta’s sonchuridar, did get aa job at asticker schoolpottu after himself roots.you?”

It cures epilepsy. The village is 16 km “How from can I help on her forehead, yellowexamination, ribbon in herin hair.

Vino in taking the schoolaservice a village 24yelkm from Lalgarh.

They can cycle there.insistently.

“I need to get out!” said Akilan, lowest yellow, yelling with as they’d zoomed away from Jhargram.

The excitement transport arrangements we- Take me,6Ajay “After am.”Giri tells him. around on theItroller coaster, their crazy Jadunath ren’t reliable. wasn’t possible to stomachs commutedoing from home. saysatthe is not safeAre in the the He glared thesituation button, irritated. theyvillage, filming a of whatfeel I’minsecure. doing in here? he thought andances.

She’d him tightly. Her hair had flown Truman He had to liveheld nearon thetoschool. villagersShow themselves With all the in his heart, over face.

Their at lips had comewas closemurdered to each othTheAkilan’s Bengali teacher the school re- grily.

So what, says Ajay.frustration Everyone knows you. he tried to kick of him hard… butOn hisaleg just toer.

There never a better opportunity cently.

Inwould front of the be school.

Bullets pumpedthan into this, him. the Theywall set in offfront on a cycle one Sunday. path offloated red earth. it and of gave a gentle tap. and he made use of it. She had put on a shocked expres- wards In Arun’s presence.

In the shade theitjungle.

Where was last? After we hit the bottle… that’s right, sion, butwas he could tellterms she wasn’t upset.

There would be The Arun on close with the murdered teacher, clomp of Iboots. went for a film, Mohan and I. Where is Mohan? Have more opportunities to shock her.All Bengal Teachers’ As- we who was a member of the leftist Joint forces.

Slowly the sociation.

So memories was Arun. began to seep in. After the morn- they Halt.kept him locked up in the next room? Or is this one ingArun withcame her home at theintheme park, he been had to the school They stop. of his tricks? They seem to have captured fear. He hasn’t wascycle. watching the movie. There spent the evening at a bar with his friends. for two months now.

They’re forcedme to while get offI the was thatthey’re cool asked drinkin he brought me.

Did I overdo it? Didsays, I pass at the Or Life before Where are you Arun’s mother noout need tobar? go back. going, Hindi.

Then…?

Yes! at a friend’s place? Maybe once I passed employment.

To get medicine, they answer.

Directly above him Thejungle mist cleared some more out, theyno stuck me in herethe as ahouse. prank?He doesn’twere Arun longer leaves talk some ei- Who goes into the for medicines, theyfor say.Akilan.

You get bubble So this was the reason he talked me into Is that the reason young for this pounding ther.

An able-bodied man just sitsin at homecontrols. all day. Like medicines in the town. the coming for that worthless film? That myHarihar head? ISamanta tried to has refuse vodka twothe letters in after his pocket.settings One of dial Ajay ontries a to explain. scoundrel! You have to come with us to the the beer, but Mohan wouldn’t listen.

Oh, of Westclothes them is addressed to the education minister Ben- They iron do not understand. my mustmy all son be one gal. head!

“KindlyThis transfer ArunoftoSekar’s Medinipur town or camp, they say. He slept for a while. Sometimes with his eyes closed, and sometimes withonhis eyes jokes.

I’ll giveas him a good kickfor once to Kharagpur compensation mythey death.”

Two men in uniform escort them to the camp foot.

He bitpeople his nails. dugus inwalking his ear open thing.

Heisfelt like someone Thethis other letter addressed to the had railway minister. Jadunath saysopen. the village are He seeing with a finger. He pressed the first button bashed him leftthe him for dead.

“Give my sonupa and job in railways as compensation for with policemen now. whatever mental calories he had remaining, he again. myWith death.”

4 “5.57 am.” decided to try to figure out where he couldHarihar be. It defiAfter the Jnaneshwari Express accident, had arahari Routhminutes. has been He180, owned Just three more If Imurdered. count up to surelya nitely wasn’t home, and from it wasn’t — nobeen told thathis one member eachhis of office the victims’ great deal of land.

Several sheets of paper lay near will open.

1… 2…

3… 4… where A lodge?

No way. Plus By now, the the door familieshe’d wasbeen to getbefore. a job with the Railways. ₹5 lakh. corpse.

Narahari the people’s enemy is being 178… 179… exhaustion he’d felt when he first opened his eyes had the177…

Not a small sum.

He looked around, wondering where the pod would mostly In theevaporated. breast pocket of his shirt Harihar carries two let- eliminated.

An accidental death. So, the last rites Was I in an accident?

Have they admitted ters and a valid ticket. Behind the pocket, a me in a hos- crack open. zzzzzzzzzz sound, the after roof lifted. to be conducted three Looking days. JaThen, with ahave pital?

Heheart. triedThudding. to lift his hands and legs. They felt norfather’s AkilanSatpathy saw a rowisofthe pods just like his, unnardan family priest.

He mal, but it was a struggle to raise them. He realised he all around him, 2 evenly arranged in an enormously broad theatre.

It was has given them a list of things to buy. was wearing some sort of skin-tight garment that Should I close the abato Mahato hasfrom a roadside in his body like being insideNarahari’s a huge machine, railway son is a gigantic contractor.

Livescarin seemed be made plastic.tea-shop Somehow did shop down then?

Golatanr. is an old man.was His wrong. son Different.

Other people who had been sleeping, just like Jhargram. not feel like hisHe own.

Something How will weriage. survive Bhola Mahato runs the shop now. He him, were looking around at each other. werethe all He has returned home onThey hearing Strange.

He had escaped from normality and now everyif you do? makeswas pakoras, ghugni, dum aloo. There’s dressed in identical blueHe skin-tight clothes. bad news. will leave after the last rites. thing mixed up, he thought.

The aclarity of the I have just three days. joint forces’ camp nearby.

To Akilan’s left a European to his right, ChiHe’llwas take the family girl; to Jhargram withahim. thought surprised him. Most of them eat What if they kill us? at When this shop.

Business is good.

They ask nese man.

Quickly, he scanned the other beds.

Each face But first he must ensure his father’s wellhe tried to move his limbs, he for felt an Don’t extreme go to the shop egg curry.

Bhola he makes for them.Had he still notanymore, from a different and every face wore a conbeing incountry, the afterlife. calm, as though wereitfloating. come was my son One day, twohis young at the Each person at the other with The list is quite looked long. It includes monetadown from high?strangers It felt likearrive he was waking up after fused expression. shop. days of sleep. Must remember never again to fear and hostility. ry payments in lieu of many things, inmany They tell Bhola to comebar, out.heDo thehimself. police Though he In the centre of the awall, in But glowing letters:Satpathy’s GL 581 G. cluding cow.

Janardan drink in an unknown told eat here, he’d they stick ask. to the resolution.

On either sidefather was a stack of machinery looked dies just one day that before the like last doubted Bhola crossThe between an say electrical transformer a gigantic shastras he cannot performand religious duHownods. many times could he keep looking around at this arites.

The If police our enemy, they tellup, him.

ATM. The silence was so intense it made his ears ties now. lid? only are there were space to sit lift his head a little, bank Bhola nods.

Janardan tells everyone at home to keep quiet. His stretch his arms and legs. Some small relief, like a win- buzz.

One of them a small packet.

Thefather’s words Oxygen Deficiency and Oxygen corpse lies beneathController the bed. No one must dow.

But theregives was him nothing of the sort. There’s poison in aged there, said.

You must it to their tea.scoundrels!

The operation above Through square weep, saysglowed Janardan.

Notthe tillmachines. the last rites for the rich I’ve he been turned into add a lab rat!

Those Is Converter must be responsible completed within three days. aeronautics. In glass panes, they could see open land, land covered with man are completed.

Santosh for this?

He studies Bhola nods. green growth.

Not a single Janardan conducts the ritualsbuilding. the next day. He returns college he made a dummy flight for his project. It must lush They leave.

“What place is Itthis?

Who so things. many people home with a bag. holds sarisbrought and other He has be him!

Bhola closes hismethodically shop and goesfor home. and uniform like this?” Almost every₹3,000 input cashthem in hisinpocket.

He searched a door that could re- here He tells hisUnh-uh. father everything. had by thehis same thought.

Sitting dead father’s corpse, which gives off a lease him.

The thing was sealed on all sides. So body Nabadid Mahato says, bury theThe packet poison.

In answer to tells everyone’s question, disembodied Janardan his daughter, who ahas a BA degree, how they close me in? placeofwhere he had slept stench, And not then? announced: you wanted to take a computer course, didn’t you? was a bed. It was a fibreglass platform, but with the voice Do you planof to sleeping poison people? a sin.Sinking A graveinto sin. that Here’s “Greetings, guests from Earth.” the money. impression humanIt’s form.

(Translated fromdaughter Tamil byweep Rashmi Should I close shop down then?

Both father and now.Devadasan and V space had beenthe a pleasure.

How will we survive if you do?

(Translated from Bengali by Arunava Sinha) Where’s the cell phone?

He examined the ceiling of Vinod) I have just three days. Maybe What ifthere’s they kill us? the pod inch by inch. a camera?

The blue sci-fi novella is part of the upcoming The Blaft swapnamoy ’schakraborty is a Kolkata-based author.

His novel Don’tfrom go tothe thebuttons shop anymore, myattention son. Stayagain. at home.

I’ll tamilmagan glow caught his What Anthology ofwon Tamil Fiction: Vol 3in 2005 Abantinagar thePulp Bankim Puraskar manage shop. Let’s see what happens. if I press the one?

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rahul mitra

The most honest man in Vasantgaon J

ust as suddenly as they had started the riots stopped. were. Families caught on the wrong side now had to There were a few moments of uncertainty, an abrupt evaluate whether to sell off their homes or whether they pause and then suddenly, without any indication were willing to risk living with the ‘enemy/other normal life burst out to fill the resulting vacuum. community’.

The city which had been ominously silent over the last My house was very close to one such boundary. It ran five days was once again humming with life and activity. in almost a straight line from the other side of Guru Har After days of staying at home with the doors locked, Krishan Public School, cutting through Indira Market, even small, everyday things seemed so much more col- across the naala and into Munirka. Across this boundary ourful and extraordinary, that a carnival mood seemed was ‘their’ area and we even jokingly referred to the to envelope us all. Just walking till VDA Complex was like school as the Line of Control. Of course, one had to go an adventure. There were throngs of women in the across to shop for certain items or to catch the bus for ofshops, stocking up on essential items, filling the air with fice in the morning, but at night we would avoid that artheir chatter and bargaining. The entire colony was out ea as much as possible. Even the cricket matches that we on the streets and almost everyone you met wanted to had played as kids with the surrounding neighbourdiscuss the ‘situation’. It seemed like an exhoods were stopped now, for who knew citing time to be alive. That evening as we when an argument over a dismissal might were settling down to our dinners, a turn into another riot? In such times it’s smooth-faced, rather grave looking young better to be safe than sorry.

Only the unstated man sitting in a studio in far away Delhi de- boundaries remained, As always, life too slowly settled into a finitively announced that “normalcy has invisible to the naked pattern. A few months passed and the returned to Vasantgaon” and it was as if media moved on to better stories. Only the eye and yet as solid the riots had never really been. and unyielding as the unstated boundaries remained, invisible In those days, I used to follow the news to the naked eye and yet as solid and unGreat Wall of China very closely and as usual would end up disyielding as the Great Wall of China. Cricket appointed and angry at the state of the teams still did not play each other and we world. In all this time, nothing has were ever conscious of the differences bechanged, neither the news nor my reaction tween ‘us’ and ‘them’. to it. Even then, it seemed to me that the happenings of It was during this period that a decapitated head was the last few days had all been reduced to talking heads discovered in the naala near Priya Park. It belonged to a and shouting matches. The riots had changed every- mild looking middle-aged man with a thick beard and a thing but on the news people seemed to be discussing full head of hair. Someone had neatly sliced through the something unreal, something completely unrelated. neck, leaving a rather grotesque mixture of horror and Over the next few days, normalcy was restored every- apparent surprise marked on his face. Coming as it did where — in the newspapers, on the radio and on televi- after a few months of apparent peace; the head caused a sion; everywhere, that is, except in our hearts. Overnight near sensation in our small town. our town was divided into ‘our area’ and ‘their area’, safe Who was this person? Why had he been killed? Most areas and dangerous ones. Very clearly defined bounda- importantly, did the murder have any connection to the ries had sprung up and we all knew exactly where they riots that had taken place a few months back? These

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questions dominated all our conversations and the mysWhatever the truth might have been, this news shattery was front page news in all the papers. Can you imag- tered the uneasy peace that had developed in our town. ine the Vasantgaon of that time, a regular, boring little Fiery speeches were given by different leaders and protown, like the thousand others that dot the GT Road? test marches were taken out as allegations and counterNothing like this had ever happened in our town before. allegations started to fly. In short, the city was once Of course, when I say that I am referring to the time be- again teetering on the knife edge of disaster. It seemed fore the riots took place, a period that you can possibly as if almost everyday one part or other part of town was never imagine. For the riots have not just shaped the shut down. We did not know it then, but the situation present, I tell you they have actually changed our past as was just about to become much worse. well. Bakaiti will tell you one thing and Banne another, A dead body is bound to attract vultures, and so it is and if you listen to both of them together you will just with those who profit from such situations. Suddenly end up getting confused. That’s just how it was with the one day we heard that Pratap Singh of the Rashtriya head as well.

Jaagaran Party was going to visit our town. Now you No one had come forward to claim it and no one have to understand the impact this had. Much as I love seemed to know who it belonged to. Some people this place, I have to admit that we have always been one claimed that this person was one of the leaders of the of the most underdeveloped and backward areas in our ‘kacchewaala’ gang, a mysterious gang of robbers, fa- state. In fact, before this visit, we had never even seen mous for carrying out their ‘work’ clad only in their un- any state-level politician of any standing before; forget dergarments. Still others claimed that it about someone like Pratap Singh. I have nevbelonged to a hardened convict, whom er seen anything like it — neither before nor the police themselves had disposed off. since. Overnight, the whole town was sudIn the super-charged atmosphere follow- A dead body is bound denly swarming with the media and securiing the riots rumours spread like wildty people. Keeping in mind the volatile to attract vultures, fire. One of the local leaders from the and so it is with those situation, the authorities closed off Mall Munirka area even came forward to Road where Netaji was staying and the area who profit from such claim the head stating that the man was right from Tripoliya to Chilkana was literally situations from their community. crawling with security men.

This ‘leader’, who had been a smallNext day at the Azad Maidan, with the natime rowdy and a known history-sheeter tional media in full attendance, Pratap before the riots had miraculously transSingh gave a rousing speech levelling allegaformed into an important person. Apparently, he had tions of a cover-up against the police and asking for a protected Munirka from attack during the riots and CBI enquiry. The crowd which had been whipped into a helped out a lot of people with the money he made by frenzy and with no one to vent their ire on (since the othrobbing them earlier. What his constituency or popular- er community had entirely stayed away), started beatity was I don’t know but there is no doubt he was being ing up all the media persons they could find. I believe treated with a lot of deference by both the media as well two media persons died in the melee and 13 others lost as the police. However, he could not offer any identifica- their lives in the stampede that followed. Pratap Singh tion for the head apart from the argument that the man left that very day by helicopter, but the fire he had lit was had a beard and so, was obviously from his community. just beginning to take effect.

This, of course was hotly contested by the VishweshwarThe fallout was immediate and all of us started preriyya Math whose spiritual leader Swami Jag Premi ji paring ourselves for more violence. Everyday, there were Maharaj had been claiming that the head belonged to rumours that truckloads of rioters armed with swords one of the sadhus of the math. New claimants were and bombs were going to attack our neighbourhood at emerging with every passing day but no one could pro- night. In response, the residents association formed a lovide any clinching proof and so the police refused to cal defence committee and even started special night hand over the head to any party. patrols to safeguard ‘our area’. This defence committee

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The peacemakers Normalcy was restored everywhere — in the newspapers, on the radio and on television; everywhere, that is, except in our hearts arunangsu roy chowdhury

which comprised a motley group of unemployed youth, biggest businessmen in town identified it as the body of English-speaking college students and retired havildars a hardened dacoit and black marketer. This greedy felfrom the army, would roam around the neighbourhood low was apparently out and about during the riots suparmed with hockey sticks, rods and sundry other ‘weap- plying essential commodities to locked-up families and ons’. However, these soon proved to be a pain in the neck charging them exorbitant prices for it. Unlike our busifor the residents as under the guise of random checks ness class, who were scared for their property and were and searches the patrols would enter different houses, carefully hoarding goods waiting for the curfew to lift, ogle the women and polish off food. Moreover, their de- this fellow being a criminal and a dacoit himself had no mands for chanda and chai-paani were getting to be ex- such fears. In fact, he was even greedier than our politicorbitant and again there was a bitter divide among the ians for he made no distinction between communities residents on the effectiveness and organisation of the when he went to supply his goods. Driven by the lure of defence committees. money he would visit any locality and apparently operGiven the situation, however, these comated throughout the city unlike our public mittees were a necessary evil for the situaservants who had disappeared during that tion did not look like it would be resolved time and would not do anything no matter quickly. The police seemed unable to come how big the bribe. up with any clue of the head’s identity and When I read this news, I realised that perThe boundaries Labsorts rat “What was he doing Why had hetocome? no memory. felt like a groundnut in itswas shell. the Wouldmost the shell open if man he kicked all of parties werehere? threatening go He had haps this honest in remain intactHetoday shutterstock/maxal tamor I wanted to go over to the Police it? He couldn’t moveifhis legs.

Howwas had not theyhanded closed the metal on Iallguess sides?”they on the warpath the head town. but are over. Blood was about to spill on the Headquarters to salute this brave, misguidonly for the living streets when the police announced a ed soul but then I thought the better of it. breakthrough.

Firstly, they would just have demanded a They had found the body. The police had bribe to show the body and secondly, I am a been dredging the naala for clues and it law-abiding educated person — why would was here that they found a headless body along with I want to get involved with the police? So I really didn’t some clothes stuffed into a gunny sack. The entire town get to see either the body or the head first-hand and I heaved a sigh of relief. Some personal items had been don’t even know what happened to them for nothing found in the sack, and we were sure that the case would further was reported. Perhaps they are still lying forgotbe resolved pretty quickly now and trouble would be ten in some dusty corner of the Police Headquarters. In avoided. But it was not to be, for another controversy any case, the media and the townspeople have moved now erupted. on to other scandals by now.

You see, while the head had been found in Gandhi BaLately, a new rumour has come up in town. A number Chapter 1 zaar, the body had been found near Ghanta Ghar. And no memory.

He felt like seen a groundnut in its shell.

Would of people claim to have a ghost walking around at thus arose a fight between two different police stations the shell open he kicked He couldn’t his legs. night with itsifhead in itsit? hands.

Beforemove this rumour opened his eyes.

Then he closed them, How regarding kilan the jurisdiction of the case.

After Pratap they closed thepeople metal on allwould sides? be Didgoing they put therehad were at least a few who out and opened them again.

Singh’s speech, the case had assumed political over- him to sleep, and even makethat a mould out of fibreglass? at night, but now has stopped.

Ask anyoneHis in Thepressure second time, he looked around — with tones and with coming in from a number of head krrrr, Heit.tried toSaturday hold on to his town pounded: and they will tellkrrr, youkrrrr. about Every night theofficers blank involved stare of awanted persontowhose thoughts quarters the just wash it off thoughts, they slipping He Bazaar looked to blankthis ghost but walks allkept the way fromaway.

Gandhi Muhave been wiped clean, trying figurestation out where is. ly their hands.

The Gandhi BazaartoPolice SHO he even around at his surroundings.

He was nirka and walks back again towards thelying earlydown, hourshis of A white of stating paper that hasmedia never that beensince written on, limbs went onsheet record to the 75 per splayed morning.

Theyout. say that this is the ghost of that same an unburned DVD, empty slate: thatGhanta kind of clean. cent of the body hadan been found in the Ghar ar- headless His exact height, exact width — trying the pod dacoit whohis was killed while tohad crossbeen the There wasthat some sort ofGhar loose connection hiswould brain.be It tailor-made ea, it was Ghanta Police Station in that boundary tofor dohim. his dirty black marketeering. was a strugglethe to case. thinkThe clearly, as though his mind had investigating Ghanta Ghar police too were To side were some feather-touch glowing Thehis boundaries remain intact todaybuttons, but I guess they been restarted in safe the mode. unwilling to accept case, as it had already been blue. are only for the living.

He was to see thatpolice he was in some of opened in shocked the Gandhi Bazaar station andkind as that Has someone locked me inside a giant computer servrahul mitra’s novel The Boy from Pataliputra will be published steelwhere incubator. was the trouble had first started. er by mistake?

Fingerprint Publications later thiswere year difficult to describe. It What was he doing here?sorted Why had come?

The deadlock was finally outhe when oneHe ofhad the by The devices inside the pod

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swapnamoy chakraborty

The fathers of Jangalmahal

was like being in the stomach of an ultrasound maHe pressed one. chine. Directly above his head were some bubble con“It is 5.10 am,” said a woman’s voice. trols. Like the settings dial on a clothes iron, for The programmed digital voice startled him. After woollens or silk or whatever. that, there was no sound.

What kind of place is this? Why am I here? Was I capAm I taking part in some sort of competition, to see tured? Are we playing hide-and-seek? how many hours one can stand to be alone in one place?

“Hey!” he said, pointlessly. There was no way his voice Is this a game? He wished for a TV, a tablet, some books, a would be heard outside the pod, he was sure. chess set. There were no such articles to pass the time.

What a fix this is! Cha! He tried to rewind. Yesterday He could sleep, just keep sleeping. The bed was the onhad been Vinodini’s birthday. Like a good boy, he’d ly thing there… and those buttons. Akilan pressed the wished her “Happy Birthday, Chellam!” at 12 am via cell same button again. “It is 5.12 am,” it said. Had it really phone text. On Facebook, a silly chat exchange — Today is been only two minutes? Immediately, he pressed the a golden day, a day with a beautiful dawn. A smiley emoji next button. in reply.

“Food or Water?”

1 “Let’s go to a theme park,” had been her simple 3 “Food,” said Akilan. s Harihar Samanta mentally unstable? Why does he jay Giri a clerk at the BDO’s office. His daughter request.

There was is a quiet hum. frequently take the train from Jhargram to Tatanahas epilepsy.

She’salmost been having frequent fitsto. and seiAt the theme park they’d had pepper popcorn, Coke, “Enough,” he said, without meaning Inexforgetting to buy ice a ticket? wishes the plicably, zures forhis thestomach past twowas months. chips,gar, andnever Italian Delight flavour cream,He which made full. galattahave in the stomach. That On top of that, the trainawould an accident. it would crumJadunath Tudu a peon at the He says there’s for quite “That is for one is week,” said the office. same woman’s voice. a rides were turning and spinning two ple like therough, Jnaneshwari Express did. Andthe that he young would very good doctorstop in his village.

Not incanta“For oneayurvedic week? Santosh, joking around, da!” He lovers, die. testing them. tions or the holythird water, he gives medicines. Makes the pills pressed button.

She had worn a yellow yellow Harihar Samanta’s sonchuridar, did get aajob at asticker schoolpottu after himself roots.you?”

It cures epilepsy. The village is 16 km “How from can I help on her the forehead, yellowexamination, ribbon in herin hair.

Vino in taking schoolaservice a village 24yelkm from Lalgarh.

They cansaid cycle there.insistently.

“I need to get out!”

Akilan, lowest yellow, yelling with as they’d zoomed away from Jhargram.

The excitement transport arrangements we- Take me,6Ajay Giri tells him.

“After am.” around on theItroller coaster, their crazy Jadunath ren’t reliable. wasn’t possible to stomachs commute doing from home. saysatthe is not safeAre in the thea He glared thesituation button, irritated. theyvillage, filming of whatfeel I’minsecure. doing in here? he thought andances.

She’d him tightly. Her hair had flown Truman He had to live held near on thetoschool. villagersShow themselves With all Ajay. the frustration in his heart, over Theirat lips had comewas closemurdered to each othTheAkilan’s Bengaliface. teacher the school re- grily.

So what, says Everyone knows you. he tried to kick of him hard… butOn hisaleg just toer.

There never a better opportunity cently.

Inwould front of the be school.

Bullets pumpedthan into this, him. the Theywall set in offfront on a cycle one Sunday. path offloated red earth. it and of gave a gentle tap. and he made use of it. She had put on a shocked expres- wards In Arun’s presence.

In the shade theitjungle.

Where I last? After we hit the bottle… that’s right, sion, butwas he could tellterms she wasn’t upset.

There would be The Arun on close with the murdered teacher, clompwas of boots. went for a film, Mohan and I. Where is Mohan? Have more opportunities to the shock her.All Bengal Teachers’ As- we who was a member of leftist Joint forces.

Slowly the sociation.

So memories was Arun. began to seep in. After the morn- they Halt.kept him locked up in the next room? Or is this one ingArun withcame her home at theintheme park, hebeen had to the school They stop. of his tricks? They seem to have captured fear. He hasn’t wascycle. watching the movie. There spent evening at a bar with his friends. for twothe months now.

They’re forcedme to while get offI the was thatthey’re cool asked drinkin he brought me.

Did I overdo it? Didsays, I pass at the Or Life before Where are you Arun’s mother noout need to bar? go back. going, Hindi.

Then…?

Yes! at a friend’s place? Maybe once I passed employment.

To get medicine, they answer.

Directly above him Thejungle mist cleared some more out, theyno stuck me in herethe as ahouse. prank?He doesn’twere Arun longer leaves talk some ei- Who goes into the for medicines, theyfor say.Akilan.

You get bubble So this was the reason he talked me into Is that the reasonyoung for this pounding ther.

An able-bodied man just sits in at homecontrols. all day. Like medicines in the town. the coming for that worthless film? That myHarihar head? ISamanta tried to has refuse vodka twothe letters in after his pocket.settings One of dial Ajay ontries a to explain. scoundrel! You have to come with us to the the beer, but Mohan wouldn’t listen.

Oh, of Westclothes them is addressed to the education minister Ben- They iron do not understand. my mustmy all son be one gal. head!

“KindlyThis transfer ArunoftoSekar’s Medinipur town or camp, they say. He slept for a while. Sometimes with his eyes closed, and sometimes withonhis eyes jokes.

I’ll giveas him a good kickfor once to Kharagpur compensation mythey death.”

Two men in uniform escort them to the camp foot.

He bitpeople his nails. dugus inwalking his ear open thing.

Heisfelt like someone Thethis other letter addressed to the had railway minister. Jadunath saysopen. the village are He seeing with a finger. He pressed the first button bashed him leftthe him for dead.

“Give my sonupa and job in railways as compensation for with policemen now. whatever mental calories he had remaining, he again. myWith death.”

4 “5.57 am.” decided to try to figure out where he couldHarihar be. It defiAfter the Jnaneshwari Express accident, had arahari Routhminutes. has been He180, owned Just three more If Imurdered. count up to surelya nitely wasn’t home, and from it wasn’t — nobeen told thathis one member eachhis of office the victims’ great deal of land.

Several sheets of paper lay near will open.

1… 2…

3… 4… where A lodge?

No way. Plus By now, the the door familieshe’d wasbeen to getbefore. a job with the Railways. ₹5 lakh. corpse.

Narahari the people’s enemy is being 178… 179… exhaustion he’d felt when he first opened his eyes had the177…

Not a small sum.

He looked around, wondering where the pod would mostly In theevaporated. breast pocket of his shirt Harihar carries two let- eliminated.

An accidental death. So, the last rites Was I in an accident?

Have they admitted ters and a valid ticket. Behind the pocket, a me in a hos- crack open. sound, the after roof lifted. to be conducted three Looking days. JaThen, with have a zzzzzzzzzz pital?

Heheart. triedThudding. to lift his hands and legs. They felt norfather’s AkilanSatpathy saw a rowisofthe pods just like his, unnardan family priest.

He mal, but it was a struggle to raise them. He realised he all around him, 2 evenly arranged in an enormously broad theatre.

It was has given them a list of things to buy. was wearing some sort of skin-tight garment that Should I close the abato Mahato hasfrom a roadside in his body being insideNarahari’s a huge machine, railway son is a gigantic contractor.

Livescarin seemed be made plastic.tea-shop Somehow did shop downlike then?

Golatanr. is an old man.was His wrong. son Different.

Other people who had been sleeping, just like Jhargram. not feel like hisHe own.

Something How will weriage. survive Bhola Mahato runs the shop now. He him, were looking around at each other. werethe all He has returned home onThey hearing Strange.

He had escaped from normality and now everyif you do? makes was pakoras, ghugni, dum aloo. There’s dressed in identical blueHe skin-tight clothes. bad news. will leave after the last rites. thing mixed up, he thought.

The aclarity of the I have just three days. joint forces’ camp nearby.

To Akilan’s left was European to his right, ChiHe’ll takea the family girl; to Jhargram withahim. thought surprised him. Most of them eat What if they kill us? at When this shop.

Business is good.

They ask nese man.

Quickly, he scanned the other beds.

Each face But first he must ensure his father’s wellhe tried to move his limbs, hefor felt anDon’t extreme go to the shop egg curry.

Bhola makes for them.Had he still not from a different and every face wore a conbeing incountry, the afterlife. calm, as though he wereitfloating. come was anymore, my son One day, twohis young arrive at the Each person looked at the other with The list is quite long.

It includes monetadown from high?strangers It felt like he was waking up after fused expression. shop. days of sleep. Must remember never again to fear and hostility. ry payments in lieu of many things, inmany They tell Bhola to comebar, out.heDotold thehimself. police Though he In the centre of the awall, in But glowing letters:Satpathy’s GL 581 G. cluding cow.

Janardan drink in an unknown eat here, they ask. to the resolution.

On either sidefather was a stack of machinery looked dies just one day that before the like last doubted he’d stick Bhola crossThe between an say electrical transformer a gigantic shastras he cannot performand religious duHownods. many times could he keep looking around at this arites.

The police our enemy, they tellup, him.

ATM. The silence was so intense it made his ears ties now. lid?

If only are there were space to sit lift his head a little, bank Bhola nods.

Janardan tells everyone at home to keep quiet. His stretch his arms and legs. Some small relief, like a win- buzz.

One of them gives a small packet.

Thefather’s words Oxygen Deficiency and Oxygen corpse lies beneathController the bed. No one must dow.

But there was him nothing of the sort. There’s poison in aged there, said.

You must it to their tea.scoundrels!

The operation above Through square weep, saysglowed Janardan.

Notthe tillmachines. the last rites for the rich I’ve he been turned intoadd a lab rat!

Those Is Converter must be responsible completed within three panes, they could see open land, land covered with man are completed.

Santosh for this?

He days. studies aeronautics. In glass Bhola nods. green growth.

Not single building.

Janardan conducts thea rituals the next day. He returns college he made a dummy flight for his project. It must lush They leave.

“What place is Itthis?

Who so things. many people home with a bag. holds sarisbrought and other He has be him!

Bhola closes his methodically shop and goesfor home. and uniform like this?” Almost every₹3,000 input cashthem in hisinpocket.

He searched a door that could re- here He tells hisUnh-uh. father everything. had by thehis same thought.

Sitting dead father’s corpse, which gives off a lease him.

The thing was sealed on all sides. So body Nabadid Mahato says, bury theThe packet poison.

In answer to tells everyone’s question, a disembodied Janardan his daughter, who has a BA degree, how they close me in? placeofwhere he had slept stench, And not then? announced: you wanted to take a computer course, didn’t you? was a bed. It was a fibreglass platform, but with the voice Do you planof to sleeping poison people? a sin.Sinking A graveinto sin. that Here’s “Greetings, guests from Earth.” the money. impression humanIt’s form.

(Translated fromdaughter Tamil byweep Rashmi Shouldhad I close shop down then?

Both father and now.Devadasan and V space beenthe a pleasure.

How will wethe survive if you do?

(Translated from Bengali by Arunava Sinha) Where’s cell phone?

He examined the ceiling of Vinod) I have just three days. Maybe What ifthere’s they kill us? the pod inch by inch. a camera?

The blue sci-fi novella is part of the upcoming The Blaft swapnamoy ’schakraborty is a Kolkata-based author.

His novel Don’tfrom go tothe thebuttons shop anymore, myattention son. Stay again. at home.

I’ll tamilmagan glow caught his What Anthology ofwon Tamil Fiction: Vol 3in 2005 Abantinagar thePulp Bankim Puraskar manage shop. Let’s see what happens. if I press the one?

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Slippery slopes “He goes on to tell me how, delirious with bhaang, he fell face-first on the Banaras ghats, lost two of his incisors and probably broke his jaw. I react to the ‘probably’, so he tells me that he hasn’t visited the doctor yet” akhilesh kumar

Hey there! I’m using WhatsApp Change ringing The sound of music High up in the steeple, the bell rings just once, and I breathe out shutterstock/franco nadalin

tanuj solanki

paul mm cooper

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girl tells me that I transition to Hindi in the before the money comes,” she says. She mentions ‘No Wed Dec 2middle of chat like no one else she knows. I Sat Dec 5 Affidavits’. The word ‘affidavits’ stresses me Objection Having serious concerns re:feel Mrs Henderson andafterthe When say “Sachchi?” and silly immediately close she up tells the church notice one of the bell’s further.I Then me thatImy brother’s application cakes. Am convinced sheshe is doing it onthat purpose.

More on wards. Then tells me her friends in frames is developing rust.inAhis serious problem re: theanbell for tuition fee relaxation university requires afo rotation. time is ofsolicyear this later, havesay to pick up and the girls from school.

Malad always “No ya” “Ya man”.

I don’t respond, being to do its full 360Income’. fidavitable specifying ‘Mother’s MyThis opinion v stressful re: getting ready for Christmas morncar, the girls like her, since forInI the have noCarol clueasks whyme I’mif even chatting with her.their We always ited: should she specify her income as zero or should she bell-ringing.

Whole parish listening, so start I am keen to mother leaving I say yes, she hasyears a spirit of but genecould have beenand in aall. relationship a few back it ing include my father’s pension, which she will getting the coming proper cascade Weather been terrirosity and exuberance are happy I amnow. hap- create is unlikely that we willand everthey consider such that a thing from the month?effect.

When I don’thas respond, she some all places: politicians py.Mother She looks doubtful. tells me that her application for getting a gov- ble, asksfloods me to in discuss the issues with in mywellies uncle, on mythe fanews. The moss on younger the church roof isI getting thick too. ernment job on compassionate grounds ther’s brother. say “Achcha”.

Thurs Dec 3 (filed after my father died two months There are a series of dirty jokes on a Mon Dec 7 Definitely on purpose re:failure) the cakes.

I believe back of a sudden heart is stuck.

I Mrs Hendergroup called ‘Panchayat’. The group has This year more stressful, re: Carol son is trying to increase her know that being stuck is a influence bad thingover for guys (and =noeven girls) from my engineering There are a series of and introducing to the parthe practice is dirty jokes on a group school, any bell-ringers. application,This but Thursday’s I don’t know what to from bothher theproperly senior and junior ish.

Not a trivial moment: they were v keen asaystrawberry-and-cream sponge, because I don’t knowVictoria how I can be of batches.

I can’t avoid being a part of it, alcalled ‘Panchayat’ The bell-ringers see on Janice.

But Carol has a generous with littlefrom pieces of freshThen mintshe in the icing. any help Mumbai. tells me though I almost never read the jokes.heart, Even me as capable and and a Ispirit of exuberance, I am always Feel rush to my face will whenneed I seeto it. that the myblood father’s gun licence when do, they never makeasme laugh.

At knowledgeable, they least telling her.

The girls to be adjusting, Other bell-ringers say and my cheesecake is v be transferred to me, she details the one person gets seem married every month look up to me quietly and though they do not tell me as much they good: no comments about whether set finer points of the necessary paperwork. posts pictures of him and his as brand usedwith to. vermilion and gold jewellery and properly not. Much anxietysend previously.

She typesorslowly but presses as early and as fre- new wife, loaded Mrs Henderson not At making eyethis contact quently as possible. my end, leads to suspense. plastic bangles. It is common for honeymoon photos Wed Dec 9 the time.

She whole goes on to tell me that three of my father’s bank ac- from one to be followed by really dirty jokes by another. church, counting thesomemonWe practise changea considerable ringing. The sum bell-of money, do counts, each holding One of myClosing juniorsthe asks me a just question about andatlocking when I notice a bundle clothes in ringers me as capable and knowledgeable, they look ey not havesee any nominees and that inheritance will require thing work. up I say “No,” without really of considering porch.

Probably road leaving donaup to mea quietly.

Mrs Henderson receptive to critimaking formal claim before the not District Magistrate in the what she has asked. Gladys She saysdown “Ok” the immediately.

I considcism as always. IShe amactually comforted by the weight at end tions my hometown. writes ‘Masigrate’ forthe Magiser theagain, matterI think: closed.have warned her before re: putting the donations chestmessage so they to aren’t damp of theMah rope,cigarette invisibledoesn’t high inmake the tower, by the predetertrate. me smile.

Kafka, proc- donations My unclein writes an incomplete me in HinsentItto Barnardo’s — who understanding, to mined order of chimes. ess: that’s what I’m thinking. “It may take six months when di script. can be translated as:are “Atvfirst I thought that

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some…” and trying make to a documentary on some pribe fair. I consider telling him of the affidavits that need ishis, who around hereto is going steal from a church?” to It beismade, then decide against it at forleast no specific school.

Interested, I tell him suggest that we that can anyone talk at not a bundle of clothes — or it is, butreason. inside vate I am trapped once again re: can’t girlfriend, is in Delhi, me that shein loves over the phone, but he insists chatfill meditheMy bundle there who is a person.

It is atells woman, maybe her length in the parish might be that sort.

I feelon thethe blood my me.

I reply absent-mindedly.

ThenThere I realise it ‘mystical’.

50s. “Okay,” I say hello, excuse me, are you okay? is athat defi-I um, face calling like a balloon.

Mrs Henderson = the most formidabhi”. mumbles bleHe am a blunder and “Main announces that heencountered. is, first and foremost, a docunitecommitting smell of homelessness.

Shesay blinks awake, opponent I have ever 1984 by George Or- mentary My brother shares histhe views about filmmaker. announces that is very something.

Says I heard bells, or something like that.

I lie awake at nightHe thinking about thehebells.

Ourgood caswell, a book thatI Isay, pushed read. Isleep like that he feels hisis craft. say “Hmm” both statements.

He is typing “I’m sorry,” “buthim youtocan’t here.”

She at cade justI not comingtotogether.

Mrs Henderson = alfree to discuss withherself me. Heup tells that heoff doubts as if method in the midst of of anline. epiphany.

Hethe asks me: doesn’t argue, stuff just lifts andme slouches into feverishly, ways off-beat, is out Due to stress if there anythe realroad war to going on in the world thatpost the “Why is itre:that while books are in favoured, no the dark,was down the village hall and the recently Carol, thenon-fiction bells and the woman the porch, book I tell has himbegun about to war propaganda, how it one wants watch docu-s.”too.

I have no answer, office.describes.

The dip there turn into a little lake.

I amfucking distracted andtomake mistakes People notice.so is often used by the Stateuptothe unite its subjects.

He says it on theleft, excessive technical capabilities of cineShe is mumbling.

I lock church.

Bell-ringing to- I blame One practice on Christmas Eve. “Hmm”.

I ask to him if he knowscake. This = last thing I ma. “There’s this ability to morrow, have make another Sun Dec 20 what grant a visual to any need. ‘dystopian’ means, and I express my disapproval imagination, no?”at“So?” “We’ve discussed it,” Mrs Henderson tells me the Thurs Dec 10 when he says he doesn’t. I he asks.leave “So cinema aumorning service. “We think you should the church explain dystopia to him.

“Itwas I thinking? Mrs Hender- door unlocked whenever it’s cold.

Rice crispie squares: what dience expects Foralways the lady.”

She is a world things are son makeswhere cheesecake.

Lime and elderflower. It is per- mouths the word ‘lady’ as thoughthe spectacular,” I say. a dirty word. bad, bad.” Then tell syrup and grated peel. I feel fectlyreally set, drizzled withI lime “Butcold. enough number But it’s December, I say. It’s always him utopiaJanice is. was good at baking, and I’m sick to what my stomach. realistBut they have discussed it. Thisof is people a coup. watch I am apoplec“Hmm,” heisn’t says.either.

Then, This af- is the way Mrs Henderson tic re: this disaster. not. Carol realist cinema and feel ter a few of in si- her life must have hurt her v needles me.seconds Something good about it. So why Mon Dec 21 lence, “Is itI tell Carol. badly: Ihe feelasks sorryme: for her, not docu-s??” I’m out of correct to say that ourringing life We practise change some more, but we are a “Are you okay,” Carol asks me after mywork, depthwhen already, the but girlsI is a dystopia our fa-sound of the rich cascade, the are watching TV. long way fromafter the proper persist: “Because realther’s death?”

I don’t rising and falling scales. cinema delivers a I think I am getting a stomachist ulcer, I tell her. know answer.

At thewhat end oftothe night we all leave the hall together story, a classic sense of Wed Dec 23 “Depends,” I say.

“Dystoand I see that the old homeless woman has come back, the story.” My friend pia really bad times, and is sleeping in the porch again. I feel v embarrassed I come into the church to findrightfully responds, the woman’s clothes Terminator like inbeing re: this a sign of3,” myIbad management. Can just see hung up on the electric fires, the “That’s smellbullshit. of damp.DocuI am add.

“Hmm,” using he says.

Mrs Henderson this as an excuse to take my posi- overjoyed re: this being a fire hazard, mentaries stowhichdeliver = a matter There is chat-silence tion re: closing up at night. riesI too. gotover no for the rector, or even the council. bringAnd thisI up again, post I say: “Come on,”which I say to the woman while Mrs Henderson the phone to several bell-ringers, cluebut what youhmm meanand by they “Let’s seeothers it another way. and the are standing in the warm light of the ahh. It just feels like the whole refugee the ‘classic thing,sense’.”

Mrs Davies Our life wasn’t utopia doorway.

“I toldayou, you can’t sleep here.” I hear har- says. It feels terrible to be in thereSensing that the conin the warm eating when papabehind was me. there, rumphing It is Mrs Henderson. versation cannot procake, while she’s outside. was it?” “No, guess,” he is a church. Let her sleep. You “John,” sheI says, “this in this I Mrs Henderson has got to her ceed already, it is direction, clear. says.

Then I ask if you?” want to sleep here,him don’t ask him, “Anyway, Thurs Dec 24 there is lady a specific booksomething about the bells.

Porch mumbles what’s up otherwise?” that hesee?” wants read “You saystoMrs Henderson. “I can even bring her “Maybe we should put up someHe tells me real Syrians in that our the house,” next.

He can’t think ofmorning.” some tins of food in the cannot is Carol tells me with one eye on thereason news. he I look at thetalk girls anything.

I ask ifShe hehas cornered me re: it being a playing with their iPads on the that I am speechless. has a ‘big oralJaninsofa,he imagine what would to unable read anchurch.like I am to say anything, and the group ice would say. My stomach feels full jury’. goes glass. on to tell ofHe broken other novel, sweepsdystopian out into the night as I lock up. The porch lady has how, delirious with I think I am going to stop the me bell-ringing, I say. Heart 1984. bhaang, he fell face-first something already begunlike to snore. not in it anymore. Stomach killing.

“Yes,” he says. We decide onanthe Banaras ghats, Later I send round email.

Fri Dec 11 at Noon by Darkness on lost two of his incisors Fri Dec 25 Arthur Koestler andringing I and probably broke his The point of change is not to play Mrs Henderson has buy him a copyI tell from jaw. Iare react to the ‘probahymns or tunes, Carol while the girls Change ringing bells rung from the the instincts of a Amazon. bly’, so Carol he tells me that make themselves spaghetti, still in uni‘mouth up’ position, I tell as we’re filpanther re: where to A friend asksringing me if bells I he hasn’t the docform.

Change are hung in ing into the church in thevisited morning.

My tear at her prey would consider accompator yet. When press him special frames that allow the bell to swing nerves re: her introduction are Imaking me o degrees. Lingua There franca is a “She tells me that her friends in talk nying him long he says, through anon arca of 360weekmuch. for Mrsreasons, Henderson is “Need there Maladtoo always say ‘No ya’ and ‘Ya man’” ap mechanical ingenuity end to Pattaya.

His plantoisittoall. Bell-ringing to getknow somewhen money greeting people. Don’t thisfrom was is harder than Sudoku, I say, and fends off whore around like “Fuckthe school docu.”

I’m wordiscussed. She has a large hat with flair and Alzheimer’s. ing MAD”. Carol nods. She has a spirit of kindness, as I a cream jacket with a rosette. The ried,trees butare I’m not really dripping and amAalways her. friend telling of mine recommends a Pakistani novel. He worried about him, for I know that he will come out of it bright with rain. says, “It works at an emotional level.” I ask, “What does like he comes out is ofpulled, all situations.

He is ten times Dean When the rope I continue telling Carol, the Sat Dec 12 that mean?” He ignores my question and tells me in- Moriarty, told himagain manytotimes.

I tell him again. bell falls, I’ve then rises the ‘mouth up’that position.

The woman is inbook the porch again.

Byabout the open tins of tu- “You stead what the is about.

“It is three generato write a fatthat bookpoint, aboutthe me,” he says.

Whenhave the bell reaches ringer can “I’ll pullstart it at na and around, I see Mrs Henderson carried tions of beans a family in Karachi.”

I wonder if I canhas ever write one day,” interval I answer.asAfter that heand asksallow me about mytogirlfthe same previously, the bell rest out her threat bringing her food. anything about re: three generations of myI feel desperate there momentarily riend.—I disappoint we are very or they canhim: pull “Yup, it a touch before helplessness, andshare leavethis the with woman family, but I don’t him.toHesleep. Can’t risk the point of balance. much This together.”

There isofsome chat-siis the essence change ringlosing hold on the community right always advises me to write about my before fam- the big event ing. The girls are lence then,topost which looking either side.he asks, “So how re: the of Carol. ily, andintroduction he is probably right. Suddenly I are you coping otherwise?” the Confused Inside the church, when I am introducing Daviesfeel alone in the world. I ask him if he can whether question is is about myinrelaes to Carol I see that thethis porch woman sitting the My girlfriend says Sun Dec 13 recommend some books for my 18-yeartionship or about my father’s demise, pews,that with a circle of empty seats around her. She is shiv-I “I love you” with The Hitchhiker’s People step He over the sleeping woman on the emoticon way into that old brother. mentions say “Alright” and nothing hasand a blowing ering, into fingerless gloves.more. lipstick mark next to athe service by service.

DouglasI Adams.

“But apologies Adams’s to everyone Guide morning give hushed I Mother tells me that shemilling wants and to couBefore starts, I leave Carol go It meansinto lip kiss.

It books areMrs happy books?”has I say. he ofkiss. speak to.

Henderson the“Yes,” instincts a panther rier some the affidavits meropes so that I can the belfry.

I breathe smell oftothe up there need to send says.

“I think my bro wants a sad re: where to tear at her prey.

Shebook,” raises Ithe means issue ofI the sign themon and courier them back.

“Theek and thethe ancient varnish the floorboards, the dust in lip to kiss back.the I doair that I reply.

But then she asks and me iftake I know say.

Mywoman friend doesn’t to that, porch during respond the service, asksaleveryone pray and thehai,” damp.

When I go back down my in Henderson our hometown. any courier-waalas though is shown to be ‘typing…’ by be having a seat between Carol for her. he I can taste copper, think I might and the girls, Mrs comesI google, I find nothing.

“Let me see,” I the app. heart attack. to shake my hand.

Herbut palm is cool and a little damp. telltoher, butshe I don’t and My girlfriend says “I love you” with “I just wanted say,” says, really “I metknow Carolhow earlier.”

Thurs Dec 17 where see it. eye After some minutes, she that emoticon that has a lipstick mark The two women maketo smiling contact.

“What a treat feelHenderson like askingsays. your“Such fatherato send thespirit.” courier.” next to a kiss.

It means kiss. even It means I need to send Christmas close now. Ilip didn’t make a cake this writes, she is,” “I Mrs generous she is crying justthe now.

I don’t call herIbethe lip“Oh kissthat’s back. aI do that. I Mrs say “IHenderson love you”. Isaid, do love her. I I know week. shame,” glowing Then that she hurries off to get bell-ringers ready. sit I don’t to cry,step I don’t howfeel to notice thattoshe increased saying after my father cause from head toe.has “I so enjoyed your riceitcrispie squares.” in the pews andknow watchhow the rector up toknow the altar, console. passed away. in victory.

She is revelling a rush of blood to my ears. High up in the steeple, the Another friend of mine, a struggler who is convinced “Here pet,” she says to the old woman in the porch on bell rings just once, and I breathe out. that he is a filmmaker, mesleep in long paragraphs. tanuj solanki is a two-time runner-up in the DNA-Out of Print the way out.

“Why don’tupdates you come inside?”

Neon, Noon will be by published by short contest.’sHis novel, paul fiction mm cooper firstfirst novel, River of Ink, published HeShe hascan’t spent theinside, last two weeks in Banaras, drinking sleep I say.

We have to lock the door. in 2016 Bloomsbury India, will be available in bookstores next month bhaang, discussing life says. and cosmos with “Lock the door?” she “John, this is aghatside church. jyotAnd HarperCollins

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saturday, january 23,23, 2016 saturday, january 2016

“What can I do for you?” they made even someone as jaded as myself sit up with a “I am surprised that I was able to catch you, Your High- gasp. ness. I heard you had departed for Suez on the Mooltan “I find myself gripped by the need to liquidate a fracfour days ago.” tion of my personal assets with some degree of haste, His face hardened. “My itinerary is no concern of and require a trustworthy man to sell these baubles for yours,” he said frostily. “I am a busy man, and have no me discreetly.” time to waste making chit-chat.”

“Why not sell them yourselves, Your Majesty?”

“Forgive me,” I replied. “I meant no offence.” Leaning “That is exactly what I cannot do,” he replied with a forward, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I have heard, frown. “I cannot afford for the English to find out about Your Majesty, from a reliable source that you have some my debts. Unfortunately, I already have all too colourful personal items you wish to dispose of. That is why I am a reputation, and have managed to make far too many here.” enemies in high places. If they were to find out that I had Pursing his lips, he took a good long while to examine lost such a fortune wagering at cards, they would be me. I held my breath nervously, trying to seem as innoc- quick to try and remove me from my throne and supuous as I could, as benign. What did he make of what he plant me with my uncle. No, what I need is a proxy, a saw? I wondered. A man of about 40, dusty from an ar- man who can broker the sale for me, and do so quietly.” duous journey, his hair tonsured close to his skull, a fine He looked at me, arching one expressive brow. “Of beard, if on the shaggy side, gaunt cheekcourse, such a man can expect to be handbones, certainly not handsome, but with somely recompensed.” the rigid posture and bearing of someone “What exactly did you have in mind?” who was not afraid of trouble.

He responded by waving one hand disIt is my natural state “Can I trust you?” he asked at last. missively, as if to say it was beneath him to not to accept “I assure you, you most surely can.” anything or anyone at speak of money.

“Excellent!” he smiled, a disarming grin “I would be happy to offer, say 10 per face value that would have worked on most people, cent, as a commission.” but I have found that I have always had an “A generous offer,” I countered, “but 20 immunity to charming people. They make per cent would be much more enticing.” me suspicious, for it is my natural state not Another smile, baring an expanse of to accept anything or anyone at face value. “As it occurs, I sharkish teeth. “I think I could manage that.” find myself in a bit of a bind. A little over a year ago, you “In that case, sir, I am your man.” I reached out to gathsee, I discovered a love of fan-tan. It is a Chinese card er up the pouch, but he forestalled me by clearing his game, rather popular amongst the less than reputable throat rather pointedly. dipankar set.”

“Hold on for a moment. You do not think I shall just “I am familiar with it.” hand over a fortune in rubies to a complete stranger, do “Ah, a man of the world! Well, to my regret, my enthu- you? There are contracts to sign, and of course, I shall resiasm for the game rather exceeded my skill, and as a re- quire a small advance to satisfy my more eager sult, I find myself in the hole, so to say, towards rather a creditors.” generous sum.”

“What manner of advance?” I asked warily.

“That,” he pointed at me, “is where you come into the “I was thinking of about a thousand guineas.” picture.”

That number caused me to let out a low whistle. Even Reaching into the inside pocket of his blazer, he though gold guineas were no longer minted, the equivpulled out a chamois pouch, tossing it carelessly onto alent value in pounds sterling was a little over 1 pound, the table between us. It had to be a carefully contrived or 21 shillings, per guinea, to be precise. And at the conmove, for the mouth of the purse fell open and out version rate of roughly 15 rupees to a pound, it meant a poured a stream of rubies, a blood-red mound of flaw- 1000 guineas would be equal to roughly 20,000 rupees, less stones the size of grapes, glinting so brightly that which was a princely sum indeed.

catriona mitchell

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sharanya manivannan

16 coconuts to Pillaiyaradi

Warakapola Polonnaruwa In Warakapola we stop for the first time, at the Bhadra- At Habarana, we did not even take the turning to ancient kali-Hanuman kovil by a hill on the A1 highway, the first Anuradhapura, and so we don’t stop the car as we drive of many roads on this journey. We climb the few stairs to by the ruins at Polonnaruwa. Maybe one day we will be the temple to see its strangely companionable deities, tourists. but our grandfather gets out of the vehicle only for the We stop to let elephants cross, led shackled. We stop Pillaiyar at its base. He holds a dried coconut with both for sightings of peacocks. We stop to pee, desperately, in hands, and circles it in the air, making his entreaties to a squatting latrine behind a mechanic shop, and miss the god of beginnings. And then he breaks it open on the Perera & Sons we passed somewhere so long ago, the ground, using his better arm. On the second try, it with its semi-clean toilets and freshly-baked meringue cracks open. kisses. We stop so our grandfather can break the third We bought the coconuts as we left Wellacoconut, outside the compound of a Sivan kovil. watte and divided them into two bags. One is in the backseat, the other lodged beManampity tween the driver and my grandfather, in He holds a dried We stop twice. Two Pillaiyars, a hundred the front. They must not be stepped on. We coconut with both yards apart. Two curved trunks. Two unstretch our limbs out and try to sleep.

Nobody tells us — although there are hands, and circles it in broken tusks. Two coconuts lighter, the the air, making his van door trundles noisily shut. those in the van who know — that it will be entreaties to the god 10 hours to Batticaloa, in all.

Muthugal of beginnings. And Habarana then he breaks it In April 1992, 61 Muslim villagers in Alanopen on the ground chipothana were hacked to death in their It will be years later, looking at a map, that I

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will remember that by the time the second coconut was broken, we were already twothirds of the way deep into the island. I will realise this at the same moment I realise why: the closer we get to Tamil country, the more kovils there still are.

This is the first time in our lives we will visit our grandfather’s oor. Which is also, in ways the places we were raised in and have lived in never will be, also ours. It’s complicated knowledge to carry, rough-husked, hollow All that glitters “What manner of advance?,” Iand askedheavy warily.at “I once. was thinking of a thousand guineas.” shutterstock

sleep by the LTTE. In an act of retaliation, police personnel visited the same upon the newly awake villagers of nearby Muthugal and Karapola, early the following

morning.

I don’t know what our grandfather prays for, most deeply, and I will never ask. It is rare, is it not, to know? So we say litanies of that which we think we want. Whilst our truest desires lurk far beneath, unspoken, unopened. I don’t believe we pray for the things we most want. They are almost always the things we never had,

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saturday, january 23,23, 2016 saturday, january 2016

never can have again.

Valaichchenai Checkpoint.

Kalkudah Migrated. Fled. Sought asylum. Abandoned. Were exiled from. Escaped.

We left the country in 1990. One year before Rajiv Gandhi’s assassination, three years before Ranasinghe Premadasa’s. The deaths of heads of state are few. The others are uncountable.

Korakallimadu

things in our accents and the shapes of the bones of our faces that claim us as belonging to it. To claim it as belonging to us would only be one more ruthless annexation.

The eastern province and the ravaged north were almost inaccessible — absolutely inaccessible, if one could not take the leap between longing and reckoning, with or without the necessary papers — for decades. The driver knows best. And our grandfather, who himself returned — alone and for the first time — only two years ago, knows each Pillaiyar he stops at, by heart.

Mylampavely

In her final days, our grandmother wanted only one thing, to be in her house — the house she had not seen in 20 years. To see its porch. Veetu vaasal.

Boys and men were Someone told our grandfather, when he being recruited, being finally went back, that it was just as well kidnapped, being she had not been able to come. Her heart killed. War created a would have broken to have seen what begeneration of Kiran came of her house. So he fixed it. Nobody matriarchs Some of the women in the van are wearing lives in it, but one day someone might be kungumam, all the men have vibhuti on able to. Might be able to stand by the back their foreheads. There was a time when we door of a kitchen that opens out onto pawould have had to smear them off with paya trees and feel something other than our palms, suddenly. In an intruded classroom. On pub- the grief of not being able to name a place home. lic transport. While leaving belongings behind and enPillaiyaradi tering a neighbour’s home through a gap in the backyard fence while our own front gates shook with The Pillaiyar of Pillaiyaradi is the very last one on this blood-drunk, obliterative ardour. journey. Evening indigo spills rapidly, and a light drizzle In Kiran, a young priest is cleaning the idol lightly as falls. It is auspicious, says the driver. He opens an umdipankar we arrive. He offers us flowers, more holy dusts to adorn brella for our grandfather. All of us step out of the van our foreign faces, to slake our refugee hearts.

We will arrive on amavasai, a dark moon night, and so we will not be able to go into the lagoon in a boat and dip an oar into the water and listen to the mermaid’s pulsar song. She only sings under perfect circles, undivided moons.

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Morakottanchenai Raising my fingers to my lips, I let out a piercing whis“Is that too rich forthe your blood?”

Certain things sit on heart the way a nevus dramatisthis jibe, I picked up one to of tle. Immediately, the door clattered open, and in es Rather a face. than Otherresponding things, thetoheart is not big enough the rubies and held it to catch Delving into marched an enormous Sikh, flanked by two khaki-clad fathom.

The deeper weup travel intothe thelight. country, the quiemy cummerbund, I extracted a small Zeiss magnifying Naiks of the Bombay Constabulary. ter we become.

“Arrest him,” I commanded, “He is an impostor, a conglass, intending to examine stone more carefully.

Through the many miles ofthe these new highways, these exactly you think our yougrandfather are doing?” he fidence trickster.” old“What crossroads, wedo have watched break The big Sikh laughed and lumbered straight over to squawked. easy bonhomie vanished, coconuts toHis roadside shrines tohad Pillaiyar until replaced it, too, is instead bything a barely repressed outrage. “Do you dare to the so-called Maharaja, one massive hand closing on the one more we do not question. back of his neck as he hauled him bodily to his feet. doubt my word?”

Sittandikudi “What...what is the meaning of this?” The man’s “Not at all, sire. It’s just the old adage. Caveat Emptor, Buyer beware!” the van stops for the Pillaiyar who is in mouth gaped open, utterly stunned by this unexpected In Sittandikudi, rueful shrug, butthe he valiant was notSubramaamused, turn of events. theI offered temple him to hisa younger brother, I let out a bemused chuckle. “It was an interesting not the slightest. nya.inWhen we were small children in Colombo, there “You may show yourself out,” he said, his tone so cold was a young girl from Sittandikudi who came to work at plan,” I said, “a variation of the Spanish Prisoner I have not encountered before. You assumed that it have an have Eskimo shiver. ourcould home.

She made could not been more“Ithan five years the Maharaja’s name and these opulent shall olderfind thansomeone I was. Sheelse hadto noassist frontme.” teeth. I cannot rememhuzoor, I made a mistake,” I surroundings, coupled with innate huber“Please, her name. wheedled, trying to soundat servile, man greed, would be enough to get me to This was not uncommon the time:even to send one’s girl The man’s mouth though something to family, which in I was advance you a thousand guineas in exchildrenittowas work for another anothergaped city, asopen, a utterly entirely unaccustomed. my head, I recruited, change for these gemstones. And of form of protection.

BoysBowing and men were being stunned by this Divine calling course, Our grandfather, himself returnedthey — alone and for the first time — only two years ago, made great showbeing of feigning as I a generation by thewho time I realised were being akidnapped, killed.remorse War created unexpected turn jayawardena knows each Pillaiyar he stops at, bywould heart ap/eranga replaced the ruby on the table. “I did not counterfeit, you be long gone, along of matriarchs. of events mean impugnchild, Your Majesty, not in the with my money.”

Thattotoothless our babysitter, came to us after least.”

Ourhave grandfather toosadly, tired “It coconut. might even worked,isbut the death of her father. One day after he disappeared, his and touch the last Thankfully, he and was her gullible enough to just outside to break it. One us does for him. mistake. You chose youofmade oneit cardinal mother took her siblings to a well buy act, affected thoughinto it was. the wrong Maharaja to impersonate. After theirmy village.

She pointed the well and told them Kothukulam “Very it we havefather’s an arrangement then,” he all, the success of a good swindle is always in the details, that thiswell! wasI take where their corpse had been said, rather too genially.

The mermaid is one entrance thegetting town ofyour Batticaif you hadarch spent a little moreto time refound, cut into pieces. They were too little to look over and “I am glad say we do. I shall have a draft drawn up search loa. Atop it, three theiryou palms right, you curve-tailed would have women realisedpress the man are into what lay to within. for the requisite sum immediately.” together.

In Tamil, thenot signlike reads, ‘The honey-sweet city trying to pose as does to shake hands. Also, you Vandarumulai “No!” He interjected hastily, “I would prefer cash. I in- use where sings welcomes you respectable with affection’.

Befarthe toofish much perfume for any gentletend tomorrow, and Iafter have all no — time to man, low it, and in English: ‘Welcome To City Of Singingfish’. the state of your fingernails, frankly, is They to areleave one for wayFrance to measure distance, these chase down bankers.”

It is just before this, almost on the border point, that coconuts.

This deep into the day, fatigue is high, almost deplorable.”

I bit back smile, realising that I hadOur himgrandfather, now, hook, our ancestral to Muthumariamman The Turning to temple the policemen, I nodded. “Youstands. may take feverish.

Theavan is full of the sleeping. line anddriver, sinker.keeps his eyes on the road. After the door him van stops.

In the contemplative darkness, we see a silaway now.” like the kovil, and it a “That is very irregular,” I said, furrowing my hes- houette ofthey a single tree manacles facing thearound Even as clapped hisbeyond wrists and slams shut at Vandarumulai, I watch the last ofbrow the cocoslim ribbon of towards water, thethe tapering lagoon by which, as a itantly.

“I am notbetween used to dealing with such large bundled him door, he wrestled free and nuts knock about them. boy, ourtograndfather amounts of currency.” turned face me. and his grandmother would arrive Chenkalady Kotamunai by boat to pray.are you? Tell me your The slightest hint of dismay flickered across his fea- from “Wait,” he exclaimed, “Who Thendamn our grandfather tells the driver to start the entures, mere frisson,maps, but for someone my observaMuch alater, seeking I find that wewith entered Battica- name, you!” to enter the town andslightly, take us “I toguess the guesthouse by tional capacities, it was as good as aalthough grimace.on paper it gine, loa through a northern approach, “Oh,” I grinned, bowing I forgot to inthe lagoon.

We will to the goddess by day, he understand, but nonetheless, I amline afraid, I must lies“I parallel to Colombo — a straight from west into troduce myself.

Mycome nameback is Sikander Singh, and I am, says, nowother that we’re here. sist. is cash, or east,Itbisecting Srinothing.”

Lanka by half. amongst things, the Maharaja of Rajpore.”

He sat back, crossing his far arms Batticaloa town is on the eastexpectantly. of Sri Lanka,I spent a sweeta raj manivannan gaind is the author non-fiction graphic sharanya ’s bookofofthe short stories, The Highnovel few dither, as was expected, littleminutes lordoticpretending curve on atoclose-to-forgotten coast. Itbeis arjun Blood.Marries, His first will prose A Very Pukka Murder, willinbe be novel, published

by HarperCollins India PriestessofNever fore sighing surrender. where we didinnot get to grow up, or even visit as we did. Empire

by HarperCollins later this year August 2016 huzoor.

As and you eyes wish!” well,whose But“Very to those ears can discern it, there are released

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dipankar

Feeding the fire “There’s nothing wrong with cooking one’s food,” Mista spoke quietly. “It makes food tastier, in fact.” afp/noah seelami

manu v bhattathiri

nobody would notice. I watched television, made myself tions to the housekeeping, I began to feel like a disemsome light lunch. Chandan appeared to be a good bodied spirit, cravenly wandering about the empty housekeeper. But this house was none of his business. It house, a sneaky intruding presence, a ghost fixer of was mine. Each day, after a short nap on the sofa, where I snacks. This house was mine and yet not mine. lay with one of our old novels from the bookshelf, I left Then came a day when I was so restless, I found myself the house at precisely 3 pm. And I made sure that every- making an enormous lasagne. I moved through my thing was just as I’d found it. kitchen — with something remotely akin to joy, I supBut I started wondering what would happen if I made pose — mincing, chopping, baking, agitation falling the kids a snack before I left. I missed feeding them. So I away from me in veils. As a cheesy aroma wafted out made some cheese toasties and put them on the kitchen from the oven, I began making some pea soup, never island where the children always ate perched on high once considering what I would do with all this food. In stools. my mind I had even started on a cherry cake for dessert.

Then I hid. I went into the store cupboard by the back And I stopped myself just as it occurred to me that I was door and peeped out. I had an excellent view of half the going to have to lug the lasagne back to my flat. In fruskitchen. Right on time I heard the front tration at having brought myself to a door open and my children came into the screeching halt, I began cleaning the kitchis appalling!” kitchen. Pratikhis looked warily aboutSunna him, exclaimed, hear me?” en. I scrubbed it to a state of divine glitter. throwing her looked hands in youto the Puchki but then sat and ate. Nidhi atthe theair. “Now of taking tomanner the sofa,toI her. then, But heinstead knew not in what I crept door, heardAnd it them right in front us, right crouching here! At low cheese toasties,dofelt with heroffinger, fell onto the soft, duvet-covered bed the speak to his daughter.

He found it insulting to hisinposilike a least have some respect realised they were still warm, walkedfor toyour grandfabedroom and sleep. tion of powerguest in the family to be collapsed disobeyedinto by the girlI rat or some such therwindow or your father.” the and stared out. She appeared hadn’t so deeply in up. months.

And I had who seemed to haveslept suddenly grown And disobeyed vermin spoke.Then The family was sitting to dinner he would be,ahe to No be one thinking. she walked back down to dream: thatifthe had dark; was sure, sheroom wasn’t in turned the mood to at the usual and clearing into the Sunna was exasperat- humour him.and the toasties began eatforest. after dousing that therebewas a dark human shape sitMista could cold and strong. ed at her teenage daughter Mista.Pratik.

The bickering bethem in ketchup.

“Didi,” began ting atMista’s the foot of joint the bed. with They all watched meat roastI woke over the fire.a tween up,” the two frequent than “Shut she was said.more As the food disapgasp my throat —The andmeat found that it was It wasinfrightening. changed colanyoneinto cared for,mouths but it was only ex- black weight indeed dark. To peared their I felt as iftoa be small horror, I could hear faintlicked clink of ourmy at the points where thethe flames it. pected.

Mista was thenext age where in my stomach wasentering lifting. The day I was in my ele- cutlery and glass.

The dim red glow of a It digital on It turned dark, like death. even clock gave off girls and their mothers could hardly ment.

I stitched on missing buttons of sit shirts and trouthe wall showed 8 pm. Mysmell. heartBut began banging against an ungainly what was worse was They all watched downI to eat together in the same clearing. sers, sorted socks into pairs, I tidied Nidhi’s wardrobe thejoint walls of my chest, asmoonlight if it would they leap out and escape that in the could see grayMista's meat “You’re surePratik’s you’re craft never,box. everI in the and sortedsoout vacuumed the top in terror, to smoke my ownsnake devices. ish, me slimy up from the meat. roast over the fire. It leaving wrong. melower sometimes,” floor oneYou dayscare and the floor theSunna next. And every I crept to the door, crouching low like a rat or Mista some None of them could understand how wasday frightening on, but her husband, wisely Iwent prepared anPuchki, after-school snack for my children and such vermin.could I opened the door a that crack.

And I saw them eventually eat food. gestured them for her toit. calm down. Young Miswatched eat all sitting around the is table, ensconced thecooking yellow “There nothing wrongin in ta Iappeared as shethat continbegan to icily find unmoved it odd, though, they never talked glow of the ceiling lamp.Mista Eating dinner.

To my one’s food,” spoke quietly.

“Itamazemakes ued tome. slowly roastfor her dinner a fire. about So just one day I over decided toAskip the snack ment, the lasagne was onin the table. were eating it. food tastier, fact.

YouThey are so against it bebeadwatch of sweat appeared on theSome dip sign, in herany throat, lin- Apparently, and for signs of distress. sign. But Brij and hadit’s no new, idea that cause you refuse tothe trychildren it. Because and they you gered around a whilelooked and then rapidly snaked down her were that day they simply at the empty kitchen island, eating same lasagne I had other haven’t seen the it before.”

But it was to made Puchkievery she spoke, bare chest to the leaf her hips. helped themselves toskirt someon cookies, and went upstairs. I week years. A piece of paper crinkled in my pocket. not tofor her17mother.

“But it’s making sweat!” mother said atolack the farealised then how her much they the simply wanted of I fished it out.

It was note: “Don’t dinneratagain.

Puchki turned andalooked a triflemake helplessly his fa-I ther, worried beyond measure. you think thisThey will like disruption.

That’s all that these “Do children wanted. thercooking.”

Fuhara. This old man, the most ancient one in their do Mista any You know fire does; it burns didn’t want megood? or need me.

I waswhat frightened at how little tribe, was sacred, aloof and mysterious. No one knew ’s first It’s clear as the bright holes in the sky. I tejaswini Ithings meantdown! to anyone. how old heapte-rahm was, because allshort whostory werecollection, aroundThese at the time is forthcoming that Sweep Through Landscapes, talk good, youand hearit me?

But clear of course, I’mnew the Circuses Asfor theher days passed, became that the of his birth were now longthe dead.

Some even said he was Aleph later thishe year bad one here.

Because I’mwith the or only one who You from family was doing just fine without my talks. contribuimmortal, that was as old as the bright holes in the

These newfangled ways

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sky, because they had seen him die several times and what wrong she had done. come back to life a little later. Puchki thought that FuhaNo, none could understand this new generation of ra now saw and understood everything that was going youth. on between Mista and her mother, but he seemed happy, Now, as Mista stonily turned her meat over the flames, feeding bits of his dinner to Teesh, their pet wolf.

Sunna tearfully said: “Don’t listen to me, but please, my “But what is wrong with food as it is, Mista? Genera- daughter, please fear Bassole.” tions have been eating it raw, the way nature meant us Bassole was their God, prior to which He was a giant to,” Puchki said, his voice a careful balance of assertion mountain that could look like a bald human head if you and reconciliation. wanted it to.

Mista said nothing. The flames crackled, and the grey “Stop speaking for Bassole, mother. Why should Basfumes grew thicker. It was really frightful because the sole hold anything against a poor flame?” said Mista. fumes burned their eyes and old Fuhara started to “That’s enough,” said Puchki but all the manliness in cough! his voice sounded hollow. “Cook if you want to, burn ev“Do you see what it is doing to your faerything down. But I’ll not hear a word ther and your grandfather?” Sunna asked against Bassole while I am alive. You will with a lot of feeling, glancing at Puchki not blaspheme while you stay with us.” and Fuhara as if to seek confirmation that He then turned to his infinitely older faEveryone had seen she was doing well. ther: “O Fuhara, O Father of us all, tell your fire before, when it Nothing can be done, thought Puchki. burned entire forests little grandchild the error of her ways.

The Chungiyas, those slit-eyed inventors Light her path with your wisdom.” down who believed in a shallow existence, had They all looked at Fuhara. The ancient gone and created this horrible and deadly one wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. thing called fire. Of course, everyone had Teesh the wolf stiffened in anticipation. seen fire before, much to their horror, Mista stopped turning the meat. They waitwhen it burned entire forests down. But at least those ed for the words of wisdom, and Fuhara looked at them, were natural fires; the bright burning tongues of evil one after the other, with his dim eyes which seemed dipankar that gave off an unbearable sensation when one went tired with the weight of all they had seen. But it was an near! Now these accursed Chungiya ‘inventors’ had uncomfortably long time later, when Teesh went to rerubbed stones together and mixed dried leaves or some- lieve himself behind a bush that they realised that Fuhthing to actually create the stuff! Puchki did not under- ara wasn’t really going to speak. Mista began turning the stand the technology, but he was sure it could do no meat again. good. Nothing the Chungiyas came up with had ever In a fit of hysteria, Sunna threw her meal untouched done any good. Why, everyone knew that fire simply re- toward Teesh. Puchki had lost his appetite too. Only the duced everything in its path into a useless grey dust old man was now happily chewing with his hardened, from which the original component could never be re- toothless gums, throwing bits to Teesh every now and then. He stopped to cough whenever the smoke bit his throat.

“O Bassole, forgive my daughter, forgive us all…” Sunna wailed. arjun raj gaind “Chuk buhiya chuk buhiya – na chuk (na, na) na chuk,” thundered old Fuhara suddenly. The very crickets in the surrounding forests fell silent. “Nadaahi buhiya, kadaapi buhiya… aaaaaaaah, na chuk na chuk!”

Fuhara had spoken! The family looked at one another.

They had just heard the voice of the tribe’s primordial wisdom, the assertion of their ancient belief system, the t had been some years since I had found a reason to verdict It was something about the ancient eyes, I imagine, that spookin fact. It was in their tongue which none visit Bombay. ed him, predatory quality, the unwavering intensity ofa of thema understood, and which Fuhara considered The last time I had been here, I had thought it sacrilege a hunter who has at last,But managed close in And on histhen, eluto translate. he hadtospoken. rather a crass, provincial entrepôt, barely worthy of when sive prey.

Mista continued to turn her meat over the flames being called a city. But now, as 1909 waned and a new (insisting After a moment’s hesitation,in I was on not interpreting anyushered mannerinto whata prishe decade approached, business was booming. There was hadn’t vate morning-room, a dimly lit again parlour in a understood), the smoke hitfurnished Fuhara’s nosmuch talk of war looming in Europe, and with such ru- trils, style so that could only into be described as mockand Georgian. that he went a fit of coughing died. At mours came renewed prosperity for the colonies. The the“Oooooooo,” centre of the room,Teesta a satinwood wailed the wolf.Hepplewhite table mills were working overtime, droves of immigrants stood, matchedwailed by two brocade covered “Oooooooo,” Sunna, looking up at gentlemen’s the burning were pouring in, and the acrid stench of greed seemed holes chairs.inFidgeting the sky. impatiently, I took one, trying to keep to permeate the very air, making me want to gasp. my“The excitement from getting theCursed better of Immortal One is dead! beme. the fire that I had been halfway to Aden when a chance remark killed The man travelled so far to meet kept me waiting him,”I had Puchki exclaimed, looking morosely from from a stranger drove me to disembark at Karachi. Thir- Sunna for the to better part of an hour. asof I was beginning to Mista to Teesh to theJust body Fuhara.

“Oh Basty-nine long and exhausting hours later, lose patience,but theforgive door swung open, andShe he sole, curse the Chungiyas, my daughter! after changing trains at Kotri and Mirpur made an entry, traipsing knoweth notfinally the consequences of her actions.”in as louKhas, I finally arrived at the Colaba Termias a Cavalier.

But he waschely wondering how to re-establish his obviThe soothsayer The old man, the most ancient one The in their tribe, was sacred, aloofsuch and mysterious nath nus. man I had travelled a dis- ap/anupam “Good morning,” said,This offering me ously waning authority within thehe family. wouldn’t He was younger than I tance to see was staying nearby, at one hand.

“I am Sikander Singh, the Mahado. expected, with a Watson’s Hotel, in the heart of the Esplaraja at of Rajpore.” the dead Fuhara awhile. The next sharpness toMista his looked nade district.

I had been there be- werefeatures trieved.

But the new never generation!

Oh, they forever that Tentatively, I took place his hand, makingone evmorning would gather, the ancient made the tribe fore, but itmindlessly was said to frequented by tribes. me dislikeamong following thebe trends of foreign ery effort not to wrinkle my nose, for he rare leaves in a freshly dug pit.

They would bathe him only mostmade discerning of travellers.

Thethe smoke Fuhara’s eyes water.My But taking cue, him in the urine was of wearing far toogoats. muchThey Trumper’s Cothe mountain would put first impression when I reached Sunna had started to cry silentlyits in threshthe semi-darkness. for Tosmear my relief, he did some special logne berries atmy hisliking. feet and sacred claynot on oldJust wasyesterday that this Mista exalted reputation washerself a new his forehead.seem had carved for noticeinscribe my reticence. smilTheyto would ancientInstead, symbols on somewhat overrated, for it wasofrather an leaves. Even his bony chest, chest-covering garment out banana ingthat affably, he took I had his soul maythe notchair linger yet vacated among ugly building, its gaudy edifice dressed ansuch excess of the though her mother vehemently forbadeby her bold so recently, settling into it with awhen theatrical living. But, Mista thought, they groan. danced and cast iron,she making more like a prison thanto a hotel. fashion, woreititseem defiantly when she went meet sang I took a moment to and study him intently.

He certainly around his grave clicked their sticks together Inside, wasfriend. equallyLater hideous, tiles and were plas- to Grus, her it man whenMinton Grus and Mista looked the Death, part, dressed a well-cut suitwake in a appease Fuhara in would, in all mohair likelihood, ter molding wallpaper everywhere sitting by theand riverdamask watching the birds, Zoola, the you old up discreet shadewith of grey herringbone, although had and dance them, unable to contain hishe exciteturned, and anofoddly shaped glass atrium that was fightwitch-doctor the neighbouring clan wandered into ment. chosenMista to pair it with wasthing unnecessaknew thata red thatsilk wasvest thethat logical to exing scene, a losing battleatagainst a relentless flock of the smiled the nice young couple, satpigeons. down a pect, rily startling.

He was thanof I had with a considering theyounger experiences theexpected, past.

Stifling a grimace, I wasted no time in presenting my let- sharpness little way off and defecated profusely. his surety features made mesank dislike With theto calm of that youth, Mista her him. teethHis interZoola of introduction to something the concierge, explaining thattoI to reported that strange happened hair just ameat. smidgen too long, smeared with an exherwas cooked had telephoned ahead arrange an appointment.

The cess of brilliantine, and his smile too ready, too conviviMista.

The girl just gottoup and shouted like one posv bhattathiri ’s first collection of short stories,ofSavithri’s man eyed me with more than a hint of suspicion; I did manu sessed, calling Zoola a graceless old witch who should al. A callow man, I thought, much too sure himself, is set could to be published not much partEven of a the box-wallah, although have died look longthe ago. nice young manI had was Special which Room meantand heOther was aStories, man who not be by trusted. later this year been careful to dress conservatively, in acouldn’t simple achkan. stunned at Mista’s outburst.

Zoola just divine HarperCollins “Well,” he said, peering down at my calling card,

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Blueprint Sandalwood

Life goes on I rode a bus to my old home and stood at a discreet distance across the road, watching the children get into the school bus shutterstock/ legenda

lavanya shanbhoguearvind tejaswini apte-rahm

H S

e lives in the heart of the material world, reSavita speaks. He’s not even a nice person. He doesn’t nounces nothing, denounces everybody have a regular job. He squanders away his father’s limitand yet he is called Yogi. You wait for him in ed wealth. He spends his entire day with the mechanic near-bridal finery, a meticulously draped boys, borrowing clients’ bikes and going god-knowsI accepted the situation my husband red sari,oits many folds coerced into perfectionpresentwith a where, fied. “No, but I’mbeedis tempted expose you to them,” he smoking andto god-knows-what, laughing ed your to me: after 17 braided years ofinmarriage, years in too safety pin, shiny hair an elaborate fishsaid,loudly, “for being so selfish”), henight and his were in drinking toddy at andlover the other daylimhe which I had stayed homein in bright Londonfuchsia, to look after tail pattern, your lips coloured your had bo (“Why youto just an on affair with him,” I pleadto be can’t brought hishave chawl a handcart.

And then the children, he henna had discovered that he was ho- there’s eyes smeared with kajal, for your hands and silver ed, “why do other you have bring him into house?” that girl, to the light-eyed one.this Didn’t you mosexual. couldn’t have the been better forthat ev- know? anklets forThe yourtiming feet, the ones with little bells “How dare demean loveeverything for him inabout that way,” You you do know.

Youmy know him. eryonewhen concerned.

And if my husband had been a And, jingle you walk. he’d responded), and, he said, there’s NO light-eyed girl. my own life was on hold devious sort ofSavita person, I would even it maYour friend tells you not to have wait called for him.

It’s tillYou thiscan’t situation could resolved. explain whybe you’re with him. It’s a wordless nipulative: because hisshowed homosexual been a month since he up, shepartner, remindsthe you.one In- feeling “What life of my centre own,” Iof demanded, have right in the your chest.weeping, You can’t“Iname who was meyou’re in mygoing own to home, stead youto tellreplace her that find was a career given my entire lifelike to asking lookinganafter our family it. It’s illiterate personand to man in a smart suit. He worked long hours. And so, how home.” him. read. You can only see the squiggles. You fortunate it says, was that the good workfor of you.” bringing up the chil“No,” she “It’s not “That’s not can’t my fault,” he said, had told good. you right at say what it is. “I But it feels dren already been done by mewave — Nidhi Youhad dismiss her with a silent of was 16 and the beginning, when from to India, to cultivate Even we as arrived you begin walk towards You don’t tell Savita Pratikhand was 14. they needed now, your andAll continue to fuss overreally, your your some mouths friends, whereown youinterests, think hemake is, Savita why you need to go, was for someone to feedyour them,nose and ring, pay appearance.

You adjust but no. You insisted on being a boring platitudes. why it’s important to their earring, fees, andthe notmany disturb the harmony of your rings on your finhousewife with personality, no taste, no If it has to be ano secret, if you need to keep see Yogi their your socialnails. lives.You Thecheck first ofifthese — gers, your things teeth are hobbies, but for your obsessive interest in it in the dark, if nobody should know, blah, In short, six months the feeding — ifthat do. white enough, yourimposter breath iscould fresh, if theI your andischildren. blah,husband blah, then it right? And Andwhere what has of verbal battering supposeinI your had hair better him a name. flowers are give still in place, strateithegotten you? I’veyou, moved on, I’ve finally disever bought the wealth-squanderChandan is histoname.

Chandan gically pinned your Though fishtail braid the compressed me into a covered who I really am. The children have ing bastard? reduced person, worked full-time, my husband toldit.me, I grumbles. way Nutan, the parlour-wali fixed Savita moved on, you them what with She rolls her eyes when youmerely say thatirritate it isn’t about unsure mustn’t worry aboutShe’s the been kids.inChandan What does she know? a bad mood all morn- of myself, suffocating questions what he has boughtyour you but what he has broughtabout you. You tell trusting cooked an eye for ing, everbeautifully, since the had neighbour’s sonintericalled her not Savita they’ve and friend they can are hermy that darkness haseaten a quiet, evilwhich dignity that light own wishes ors, a taste for whole jazz, and an insistence bhabhi for the street to hear. Ason a joke. There’s online with. all of us never achieve.chatting It’s a place where youDon’t makehold secrets, keep dust-free neatness.

Thus he would takethen. The me- them and bury been much sniggering in the basti since back,” said, “Doathe right thing and step themheand that’s good thing because evover my duties smoothly; in on effect, he they’ve re- erybody has secrets. chanic boys who zoom around the bikes back, find your own place theatworld.”

When she rolls herin eyes you after would slip right into Ifmy skin home paired are the worst. you getattoo closeand they grope your your over-the-top In short, six months of verbal battering mini-speech you tell her that you’re in bed. My husband talk about bed, of course, breasts.

And how fardidn’t can you get awaythe from them in the meeting compressed into aitreduced unsure of my-a himme to bring all into person, the light.

She makes that was my own insertion. thoroughfare of the basti? They give her the creeps. And sound self, not own of wishes, and, above all, not of trusting dismissal,my a cluck the tongue.

It’stoo not like I gave inother easily.things It’s just husband wanting you but you’ve got onthat yourmy mind. make things worse my children by creatYou’re to walking right into thefor heart of the basti, past told me every day,tell over months, “I must go,” you her,six “It’s time.” that my intransi- mounds ing a scene. of garbage and dog shit, past train tracks, past gence ruining everyone’s life.

Theto children, You was don’t tell Savita why you need go, whyhe it’ssaid, im- street “I’mhawkers giving you monthly maintenance forpaper yourselling channa and peanutsonly in tall were living with sword hanging over theiryou heads portant to see Yogi.a You can’t tell Savita before tell cones, self,” my husband told toddlers me, when it came down to and dispast half-naked playing with mud (“You’ve already told them about this?” I gasped, horri- old him. cussing thetubes. details of the separation. “For the children rubber

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saturday, january 23,23, 2016 saturday, january 2016

dipankar

Savita is following you. She’s talking in a high-pitched knew that your brother died this way, plummeting voice. You’re not listening. She can’t shriek her way to ap- down from the top of the pyramid just as he was about peal to your devious mind. A shriek has that comic, ig- to strike the pot, just as he had steadied himself on the norable quality. And your mind has been made up. shoulders of two of his comrades and when he had You’re looking for him. It has been a while since you saw raised a hand to strike the pot, something happened, him, since you ran your fingers on his cheek, grazing his somebody from below moved, coughed and your brothWindow to thethe oldback world a day when Ihis waslips so restless, myselffalling making rapidly, an enormous lasagne shutterstock stubble with ofThen yourcame hand, kissing as his I found er was toppling and tumbling, his feet moustache pricks and tickles. Ever since he left, you’ve pointing skywards and then the crash came and ended been having vile nightmares of headless horsemen and it all. Those screams, those terrible screams, still haunt dark wood-nymphs in black cornfields. And there’s that you. there be thetoleast disruption if they continue with myAnd thing will you need tell him. onlyYogi? meal.

Lunchtime would find me wandering After he saw you weep for months, afterthe he me, in their current school.”

Somebody is calling your name. You turn around. It’s local park with away a carton ofby orange juicediminish in my hand saw you wither little little and intotoa “Why wouldn’t they go to their current school they stave one of the mechanic boys, a short, lanky lad with if a mop off of thirst.

By dinner I was lying bed, staring shadow a previous self time he told you thatin he’d never evlived withcurls. me,”He’s I’d asked for allWhen his blustering talk, I’d at of rough Yogi’s—friend. he’s not looking ceiling and sobbing.

What I did in the er the be the climber, the Govinda who must getintervening to the very held onbreasts to the hope, tillyou the with end, something that they would come hours at your he treats that resemI cannot say.

Seventeen years had gone, gone at top of the human pyramid. with me. bles respect. the“He first whiff ofSavita sandalwood, damned whiff of promised,” tells you the in a loud whisper.

“Because,” he said with avuncular “if they “Yogi’s there,” he says pointing to apatience, large crowd.

You Chandan who was now filling husband’s life with his “This year the height is onlymy 18 feet,” says Yogi’s friend lived with you theysee would look closely and you it. have to go to a cheaper odious Once a weekend, I positioned and thefragrance. voice seems to only, comeon from somewhere very far school.”

Where, you ask, although you know where exactly be- myself near thehe’s house to seeright whatnext theytowere away although standing you. all up to, “Then include the fees in theSavita maintenance,” I said, this cause your heart begins to sink. has been reduced new family. saw them going off to some lunch Enough to die,And youI think. “and for the rest,inthe and I will to an as extra, a prop thechildren background.

You manage.” are the tragic party new take friends, noeyes doubt piling andthere’s eager You—can’t your off —him.

In ahappy minute “Will you,” hestory. said,The tight-lipped.

“You’dIt’s better to into heroine of this Meena Kumari. yourtalk birth the Pajero, carrying athe magnificent iced cake made cheering.

He’s completed task. He’s broken the pot.

Nidhi then.” right now to talk to Yogi and get your heart shattered by, who else, aChandan.

He’ll receive lakh of rupees. He comes down slowly, the Socry I did.

But Nidhi “Mamma, Pratik and about it; yousaid, know that Savita willand I want to I never spied on them again. sure-footed drunkard, his arms in the air stay We anyway hardly you during the week. I fuss here. over you with the usualsee I-told-you-so That is, till Icelebrating discovered his thatvictory.

I still had the keys the Once he’s ontosolid don’t wantand to leave my room. if we live with house buried ground dialogue, just to spite herPapa you says might in my purse. he’s hauled up again on to the you it will be in a Savita small two-bedroom flat. How can I call tell her, enough, bhabhi. How could I entered the house mid-morning on aThere’s Monday.

All shoulders of his friends. more Man, he is good. He’s was my there?

Where will I put my you piyou friends forget what day it was?

How could safely silent. I did a sort of inspection cheering. steady. He knows ano? feels the same.” forgetPratik that today is Lord Krishna’s birthday tour. new HeThere sees were you. plump, He asks to silk be cushions brought what he’s doing. He’s on I admired my would daughter then.thousands She’ll go and that people gather, the sofa, making look rather down.

He walks to the you.place He smiles.

You hauling himself up, far in thisinworld. of them festive wear, cheering, singing opulent.

In back. the He kitchen, had don’t smile knowsChandan you are angry.

I want myfoot things to be one after Sodancing, it was that into athe small, bare and allI moved to recreate lord’s famoved myatprized knife for set afrom its place You look each other minute, him on my dressing table, another flat.

It was only a short bus-ride but it vourite childhood antic?

Howaway, could you near the hob. a sunny smiling even Itasnow yousparkled are still inangry.

He I thought, as I stared was by my this husband I forgetmade that clear Yogi nursed secretthat ambispot by noticed the window, newhenna pot of vihasn’t yournext sarito ora the or down at the male ought to let everyone on human with their tion to get to the very topget of the pyrolets, making it look a bit fish-tail like a magazine your hair in the elaborate pattern. colognes and lives not atrycoveted to insinuate amid and to break earthen myself pot of photograph. theplace fridge.itStrawberYou take hisI opened hand and on your hairbrush among Give it atvery leasttop. a year, hecould said, yoghurtthem. strung at the How ry milk forHis Pratik, bread stomach. hand raisin touches yourfor bareNidhi, skin. in most A clean, youhis forget thatreasonable Yogi wantedvoice. that kind of glory? The kind You nod. He doesn’t low-cholesterol margarine for my stop smiling.

It’s not a smile for husyou. sharp break for chanting the children.

Don’teven ruinas he’s doing He’s smiling for that has crowds his name band, all wasfor inhis order as it should be. Then himself, victory. things for them. something only for himself. He could have so easily been to theHe bedroom.

I expected Somebodyupstairs calls his name. turns away from you. my It’s I stuck to my daily morning schedule. I woke up at 6 breath a politician. to catchgirl. when wentexists. in there.

But you strangely, it the light-eyed Yes,I she He tells he’ll be am.

I rode my old home andmany stoodfriends at a discreet You lookaatbus thetopyramid, at Yogi’s stand- didn’t.

It’sdon’t not like we’d been back. You know what to active say. in that department distance across road, watching children into lately. ing shoulder to the shoulder in a circle,the their knees get slightly I only cared my home.song.

I wanted back,have desperSavita starts thefor I-told-you-so Youitdon’t the the first time did that, waved. bent,school their bus. armsThe entwined andI you watchPratik as Yogi puts ately.

I want heart to insultmy her.things to be on my dressing table, I Nidhi looked and nodded.

Theneven she thought, one foot afterfurtively another at onme shoulders, forearms, as Iabout staredhim. down the male and hairYou think Heatnever gavecolognes you his heart, onpulled atthe his people arm and glancedthe at her friends to see heads of forming pyramid.

You are if anthey idi- brush near the gnarled mark the wood looked ly its blueprint.

You saw the on empty spacesthat there and had strange staring woman across the like ot to noticed trust thethe sure-footedness of a drunkard.

But, wait. a stack of pancakes.

I want to cook forFrom my children, made grandiose plans for moving day. here, heI street.

The nextand dayyou I didn’t wave. knewMan, that he they You look again realise that But he isI good. is thought, staring the From tired face in he thewill mirror. will love you likeatthis. there, love you like knew wassteady. there. He knows what he’s doing. He’s haul- that. good. IHe’s When I left, I had a plan. no job no experience of working.

The tatingI had himself up, and one foot after another, an expression of The day, and the next, thewere next,already I escaped my But next all those spaces, all ofand those filled tered half-life I led was on onehis in face. which minutes utmost focus plastered And then itseemed strikes dreary flat, andbyhung out at home.

Why not? at least much before something else, other darkFor things.

A like simply invented to ablueprint you. hours, He wasand hereanallhour along, in thesomething city, practising for the few hours day, I went back my normal life and acis anot certainty.

Onlyto certainty is certainty. drive insanity.

After left,toall“settle semblance of tivities. I tidied up the children’s rooms upstairs. I did a climb.me Heto had not gone tothe his bus village matters lavanya shanbhogue-arvind debut novel, The Heavens We routine disintegrated.

But for the school bus, I wouldn’t bit related to property.” The lying piece of goat shit. of ironing, taking care not’s to iron anything that bepublished bySome Roli Books later thisUseful year things that Chase, willtobeChandan. have left my bed.

For could weeks,Yogi breakfast the bus was Worst of all how forgetbefore his promise?

He longed dusting.

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saturday, january 23, 2016

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in-faq by joy bhattacharjya

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n keeping with the theme of this issue, this week’s quiz is on fiction.

here,there & elsewhere

Facts and fiction

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Tongue cramps

John Gardner, Sebastian Faulks, Jeffery Deaver and Raymond Benson have all written novels featuring which fictional character?

From July 23, 2000, what change was made to The New York Times Book Review bestseller list? The time period should give enough hints.

his is me, Bins, again. “She” is still unable to use her right hand. She T calls me “The Left Hand of Darkness”

This sounds a bit strange but can definitely be worked out. Who was the last American citizen whose life was the subject of an Amar Chitra Katha comic?

— meaning, she thinks I am having fun at her expense by writing my own things! Not what she tells me! And she is correct! After all, I am not her secretary. But here is something funny: after just one column, I feel I can do this just as well as she can. Maybe I use a few more exclamation marks than her. I cannot help it! I am French.

It is part of the hazard of being Me. So. Today I want to mention a small book she brought into the house. Mind you, it is not a book I would EVER bring into the house. It is called LOST IN TRANSLATION by Ella Frances Sanders. The sub-heading is ‘An Illustrated Compendium of Untranslatable Words from Around the World’. On the cover there is a cartoon-picture of an igloo and a person standing in front of it. In the sky, which is plain white in colour, there are a lot of funny-looking stars even though it is not night.

There is also a road sign, with a nonsense-word written on it: IKTSUARPOK. I do not believe in this book. I think it is crazy. No one can even say such a word, never mind scrape out a meaning from inside it. But she

4 5

What connects these Arthur Conan Doyle stories — “The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier” and “The Adventure of the Lion’s Mane?”

These fictional characters do not know their names, their parents apparently know but demand a bribe to tell them, which they refuse to pay. You can always see six of them clearly, but the seventh’s shirtfront is always obscured.

6

His real name was Mahesh Das. He wrote under the pen name ‘Brahma’ and a collection of his poems are preserved in Bharatpur Museum. Who is this writer whose stories are the staple of Indian television?

7

The narrator, who claims throughout the story that he is sane, stalks his victim for over a week waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

After he smothers his victim and dismembers the carcass, the police arrive to investigate a noise a neighbour heard. Name this story where the narrator confesses his crime after hearing a faint noise from where the body was hidden?

8 9

Which onerous responsibility connects George Cyril Wellbeloved, Pirbright, Edwin Pott, Monica Simmons and Cuthbert Price?

William Brodie was a highly respected tradesman and Deacon of the trades guild.

Because his job entailed fitting locks to doors and cabinets, he was able to carry out burglaries undetected for many years. Name the classic story based on his life?

10

This is the dedication for which work of fiction? “My dear Lucy, I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realised that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. You can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. I shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand a word you say, but I shall still be your affectionate Godfather?”

says it is used by the Inuit, who live near the North Pole. “I know the Inuit live near the North Pole,” I say, in a growling voice. She says, “It means ‘the act of repeatedly going outside to keep checking if some (anyone) is coming’.”

I say, “Ickti-saurus-pok-pok-pok ...” while tapping my forehead to mean these Inuit are crazy. But I pick up the book anyway to see what other nonsense there is inside it.

“TSUNDOKU,” I say, “is something this book deserves.” It’s Japanese, for leaving books unread, sometimes in a pile. She does it with all her books.

“Look up GLASWEIN,” she says, wearing a crooked smile on her face. I find it after flipping through the pages to look because OF COURSE a book like this never has an index. Still. The pictures are funny. Silly. But funny too.

The word means literally “blue smile”.

That is: a sarcastic or mocking expression. The picture shows many smiling mouths with blue lips.

“Pah. It’s a piece of pure DRACHENFUTTER,” I say. It means a gift one person gives to appease another, like the food you give to a dragon to stop him from burning you up. “Nonsense,” she says. “I looked inside the book already and know what that means — ” Then she stops. “Oh wait! You mean YOU need it as a gift?” I give a cheeky wink. In the book there’s a word meaning a silent acknowledgement between two people who are thinking the same thing: MAMIHLAPINATAPAI. It’s from Yaghan, a language spoken in Tierra del Fuego, Chile. My tongue gets a cramp when I try to say it. It takes me a PISANZAPRA just to try. Go on!

Look it up! You will smile. manjula padmanabhan, author and artist, writes of her life in the fictional town of Elsewhere, US, in this weekly column

cornerstone

Answers 1. They all have written novels featuring James Bond 2. They started a separate bestseller list for children’s books. It was largely to make sure that the Harry Potter novels did not dominate all book lists as they had been doing for the past 12 months 3. Astronaut Kalpana Chawla 4. They are the only stories in the canon to be narrated by Sherlock Holmes 5. The Beagle Boys, the serial villains in the Donald Duck comics 6. Akbar’s courtier Birbal 7. Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ 8. They are all keepers of the Empress of Blandings, Lord Emsworth’s beloved and prize-winning pig in the novels of PG Wodehouse 9. Robert Louis Stevenson’s Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde 10. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, the first of CS Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia ND-X _ A

joy bhattacharjya is a quizmaster and Project Director, FIFA U-17 World Cup t@joybhattacharj

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