There’s no open spaces in the front,the area of the home starts just after drain.There’s the wide door across the road,the door is little bit down.The dewellers of the house,even people of short strature enter home through that door bending their heads a little bit down.Those who are to go across step on the stair going one step on the left.The employees or workers of one storyed Gausul Ajam shoe factory cross the damp yard by crossing the narrow passage.If only this one door across the road is closed it would be impossible to enter this large and outsize building.
There’s an iron railing as high as the Bangalees’ belly on the front corridor of second floor and third floor.Small are the houses within which more houses have been built with hard boards,wooden partitions and bamboo fences.The main wall of the house is thick,pillars are large.It seems that a strong intention was active for getting out of the clutches of the enemies at the time of constructing the home.Who’s that enemy?If there’s not any enemy what the hell is the meaning of constructing the home in such manner as neither fort nor home.That means those who knew whether that mr. Saha or mr.Bosak or mr. Poddar having sold to Rahmatullah went to India in 1950.Almost immediate after having a job in EPDCI Osman finds out this house thanks to a colleague of his previous office.
House means an attic of the home.On the roof there’s only one bathroom, no kitchen,no bathroom,whether for going to the bathroom or for bathing it is to stand on the queue of the first floor.But so much light and air are in the house of Osman.There are two doors, one towards the stairs,the other towards the roof.The roof is very large,railings around it,the front railing is little bit high.Standing at one side the front road is seen nicely.Just across the road there’s a two-storyed home.Very large home and the same unsize.On a signboard in the corridor of the home the name of Haqqenur maktab is written in bengali and arabic letter.Sometimes Osman stands on the roof.Standing for a little while the roof beneath the foot amidst all the congested houses seems to be so vacant,enters his own house in a flash.
Of course today he’s not to wait for the vacant mood.Down there on the road there’s a police jeep. In the sound of the lamentations of women on the rightside of the second floor at the time of descending it is understood that someone of this very house has died.But here is not such thing as loud lamentations being in dead man’s home.Crying sounds are coming out from the suppressed noise of the house,Osman descends along with the sounds. Another pick-up car behind the jeep,this is also a police car.With Rahmatullah 7/8 people cross the road.Four of them are police.A black jinnah cap on the houseowner’s head.Rahmatullah is awarded this cap as a great supporter of basic democracy of the locality while governor came here to inaugurate the community center.But he always wears a white boatlike cap.He uses jinnah cap as a crown if necessary to show himself off.
No,not for the cap.While seeing Rahmatullah a smily gesture appears on Osman gani’s lips.In reply the houseowner says with grave and wrinkled appearance, ‘were you going to my house? Come,lets go upwards.’ Rahmatullah’s guess is not right.Osman was going to the Islamia restaurant.At dawn it’s suddenly rained, the cold’s getting rough.At the naanbread foot the Sunday morning would prove nicely grand and enjoyable .Doing the about-turn while he walks following Rahmatullah’s behind he asks, ‘What’s the matter.How did it happen?’ ‘Where have you been? The neighbour of the ground floor dies getting shot, you don’t know?’Osman walks silently with him.It is risky to respond, should anything be asked his ignorance would get clear more.
Rahmatullah speaks just alone,’would i get the dead body if i did not look for thana-hospital,hospital-thans all the night?’Coming to the foot of the stairs he says showing the inspector, ‘Who knows if Mr.Samad wasn’t there where would the dead body be left!’ The people holding railing stand on the narrow corridor of second and third floors and see them.Ascending the second floor all having come in front of the door beside the corrido on the right stood.Two adjacent doors for two houses.One family enjoys the rights to use these two houses and the front door.There’s a partition of hardboard while advancing ahead along the corridor.From here the limit of another one family begins.
Again two adjacent doors , the same partition after the last door, but it’s of canvas.The door adjacent to the canvass is closed.There’s a landscape drawn on the brown canvas with white chalk. There’s sun on the top of a long palm tree on the bank of a lean river.It may be either like the sunrise or the sunset.A flock of 5/6 brave birds are almost over the sun.
On the adventurous birds and under the river there are stains of lime and ink and few bengali and english letters.A name written in clear and bold letters pricks repeatedly in Osman’s head,the name and the repeated pricking mood get granulated into his head,his hair get staightened a little bit and he reads ‘Ranju.’ It’s Osman’s nickname.An indistinct tension gets blocked in his throat.But not so long.
Because new problem starts scratching: The man who writes his own name in such large form in front of the home is killed by the police,how come! The house owner calls, ‘Ranju.’ This call generates ghostly echoes in Osman’s chesti This is the boy of the mornigtime who comes out through the door.All the bright lines of his eyes have been in a mess.
(To be continued)