.png)
Kuddus was the first to see the girl. He had gone out near the river bank to relieve
himself. The winter had not set yet, but the river was beginning to feel its pull. There
was a little fog, one could feel the crippling cold coming ahead. Kuddus could not keep it
in any longer. There was no time to look at anything. Once it bites the stomach, there
was no respite. It would propel out. It was still dark out. One couldn’t make out anything.
Kuddus did his deed and went over to the river to clean himself. He did not want to use
the River’s water. Angels hovered over the river, he had heard. He wouldn’t want to
defile the river. Besides, the NGO employees who come over discourage this use. They
talk of how diseases spread. But there was no other way. Near the river, there is the
dwelling of catkin, raising its head along the river. Hundreds of these demesnes lay
around. Bastards with no ownership. It’s only might that determines proprietorship.
Kuddus isn’t the owner here. It’s Paramanik. Kuddus is his indentured servant. He isn’t
paid by the month. Rather every year he receives 12 minas of grains and 6000 takas.
He receives two lungis, two gamchas, clothing, and a blanket for the winter. The money
isn’t much. One could earn more doing hard labor. But there isn’t hard labor to do all
year long. This way, Kuddus did not have the uncertainty. He did not have to think
perennially of food and work.
Kuddus’s older brother Rahim is one of Paramanik’s indentured servants, too. Their
father was one as well. He did not know about his grandfather’s history. Their father
died when they were young. Kuddus did not keep tabs of this. He could only count to
twenty. Any number beyond that did not hold meaning for him. Only looking forward till
tomorrow seemed important, nothing beyond it. And if it was necessary, he had his
older brother and Paramanik to rely on. They wouldn’t deceive him. He wasn’t even
acquainted with the word “deceive”. Everything seemed good to him in the world.
Nothing bad. There wasn’t much to think here in the Lord’s world. Whatever he lets
happen must be for the good.
Kuddus felt the presence of someone near him in the fog. He thought someone had
arrived to answer the call of nature, so hadn’t looked back. But no one comes by this
char. Could it be a ghost? He didn’t look around, praying under his breath, he kept his
eyes straight. But after a few paces ahead, he couldn’t keep his curiosity in check. He
rubbed his eyes to see clearly. No, this was clearly a person – a girl. Her buttocks
planted firmly to the ground. If she were a ghost, she would have been levitating mid-air.
He had heard that spirits could not touch the ground.
Kuddus hesitated for a while. He could not make sense of this. How would a girl come
to be here? There were no houses within ten miles. The Padma lines adjacent to the
catkin. No one could float all the way here. The sky by then had lightened up. One could
see the yellow rays rising from the edges. Besides, Kuddus wouldn’t get scared so
easily. He had immense strength. He had once hauled a crocodile up shore. Everyone
in the area knew this story. But one couldn’t do anything about ghosts. They were not
human, rather shadows. How could one fight with a shadow?
However, going near her, Kuddus realized she was not a shadow. She hadn’t come
here to piss either. She was a broken girl, covered in mud and grime. Kuddus wasn’t
able to determine her age. It could be over twenty, but less than two twenties. His
mother had died at a young age. He had seen a few women in the village. But he had
no distinct memory of them. However, seeing this girl disheveled girl here like this, he
felt a pull within him, as if the man inside him had awakened. This awakening had
seemingly led to affection for the girl. He desired to call this strange woman his own. He
could see that she must’ve gone through a lot the previous night. Perhaps she hadn’t
eaten. But how had she arrived here. The question bugged him. Later on, he had
learned that some men from Goalanda village had puled her on a boat. She was there
the whole night. The men had used her the whole night, beat her up somewhere in her
body. Then gave her something that put her to sleep. When she had woke up, she
found herself here.
Kuddus, of course, did not understand much of it. He did not even know where
Goalanda was. Wherever it may be, the girl seemed to be an angel to him.
When the girl asked for water, he brought her some from the river. She gulped it down,
sprayed some of it over her face. She asked, “What village is this?”
“Dikri’s Char,” replied Kuddus.
How could a girl like this arrive at Kuddus’s world? That a girl could be snatched away
on a boat by a few men and left here to die after their torture is believable yet
unthinkable in Kuddus’s universe. He did not know where the village was. One could
see the edges of it on the other end of the river. She might as well have come from the
land of fairy tales.
The girl wanted to know if Kuddus had any food with him. He returned to the house and
brought some barley with husk and jaggery. On a tin-plate she soaked the barley in river
water and gobbled them up. The previous night’s exhaustion caved away. She forgot
the hunger. She wanted to know where Kuddus lived, whether he could take her to live
with him there. By then, Kuddus had become enamored with the girl. The girl had
sobered up as well, did not want to go anywhere with him. In moments, he noticed this
change in him. The Kuddus that couldn’t think for him, whose entire life revolved around
his older brother Rahim. He had no one else in the world other than his brother. His
brother would marry, his sister-in-law would adore him. They would have kids and he
would spend his life playing with his nephews and nieces. He had thought of having this
girl marry his brother. But now the thought did not appeal to him. It wasn’t possible for
both of them to marry this girl. Besides, what if his brother asked him where he got this
girl. It wouldn’t be possible for him to leave this girl alone. He brought her with him back
to the house.
Rahim had gone up to the herd in the morning. In addition to watching over the catkin,
they take care of Paramanik’s buffalows, about twenty of them, some of which give milk.
The two brothers kept watch over the buffallows, milked them. Made ghee from the
cream. They had it themselves. Every Friday morning, Rahim would take the milk and
go over to Paramanik’s house. He would return at night with rice, salt and oil to light the
lamps. Sometimes he brings in fish when he goes to bathe in the river. They have about
everything to live a sufficient life. They never felt a hardship in life. That they would have
to marry according to the law of their society was known to them, but they never
yearned for women. Not even for their departed mother.
Leaving the girl at the house, Kuddus went to his brother and told him what had
happened. Rahim was puzzled at such a strange incident. He had a bit more
commonsense than his younger brother. He asked, “What have you done, Kuddus?
You brought over a strange girl? Wouldn’t it be a sin? If anyone knew, we’d be exiled.”
Still, Rahim could not keep his curiosity in wraps. He quickly finished the job at hand
and went over. Seeing the girl, he had the same effect as Kuddus. Truly, it seemed like
he hadn’t seen a girl like this before, either. At least a girl in her youth. That there was a
torment of the heart for women, he realized it then. Afterwards, the two brothers did not
talk much. They live in such obscurity. People did not visit that much here. Buffalo milk,
fish from the river – there was never a shortage of food. But they possibly couldn’t keep
a a young girl like her with them forever.
It was soon dusk. Kuddus lights up the oil-lamp. Rahim begins to boil rice for the night.
The girl had become her regular self. She said, “I can cook, let me help.” She did all the
arrangements. The three of them sat down to eat together. The food had a taste like
never before. They began to find a new meaning to their life. The two brothers began to
day-dream about their futures with the girl. But no one could hear their secret longings.
Kuddus had found the girl, so he seemed to have a better claim to her. He didn’t think
his brother would think about her like this. On the other hand, Rahim thinks all his
brother’s thoughts revolve around him. Besides, it’s only after his marriage can Kuddus
marry.
Trouble arrived when they were headed to bed. There was only one bed. The two
brothers had a pillow each and one blanket which they shared. There was no space for
a third person. On top of that, she was a girl. They could adjust with a guy, but they
couldn’t possibly have her lay down with them. In the end, they gave their bed to her
and the two brothers went out and slept outside. None of them could sleep. They all
begin to weave their own dreams with her. They had no father. Their mother had died
so long ago. Their household was essentially Paramanik’s household. Their entire world
centered on servitude. And there were no women in that world. No one to share one’s
misery and happiness with. The two brothers had been brought up like Cain and Abel.
Would this girl be the point of their discord? Thinking such thoughts, they went off to
sleep in the end. The girl woke them up in the morning. In such a small time, they
became part of family.
Rahim told his brother, “We should build another room. She must have a place to stay.”
The two brothers went out and cut some wood to built it. Building a platform with
bamboo. A second home rose up beside theirs. They began to dream of their own
homes. On Friday, Rahim went to the village, as usual, to bring over the week’s supply
from Paramanik’s. But as soon as he left, he started to sense loss. As if he was leaving
something behind.
On his way back, he went to a store unfamiliar to them and bought a saree, some snow-
powder and a comb. He did this with precaution, lest anyone catches him in the act. He
thought of many things on his way home. He should’ve asked the girl about her village.
She had mentioned Goalanda or something. When he had asked around about
Goalanda, people looked at him with suspicioun. “What would you do with Goalanda?
Rahim had said, “No reason.” He surmised that his friend Habil had promised him he’d
take him to Goalanda one day. That there were many beautiful girls there. They’d go by
boat. It was several miles’ journay, taking four hours.
He returned earlier than usual. Just as he stepped near the house’s steps, he could
hear the presense of Kuddus and the girl. They were laughing. The girl was asking him:
Wll you marry me? I’m a bad person, though. But if you marry me, I won’t do any bad
anymore.
Rahim would lose his train of thoughts hearing these words. He coughed a little loudly
and and entered the room. The girl became happy seeing the saree and snow-powder.
Seeing the girl overjoyed dissipated much of the despair he had felt while evesdropping.
They began to behave normally again and ate their dinner together again.
When he wakes up in the middle of the night, Kuddus couldn’t find his brother. He
waited for a long while. Then he had heard sounds coming from the nearby house. After
this the two brothers stopped trusting each other. They would get angry at little things.
In front of the girl they would both grow silent. They wouldn’t talk with one another.
They’d gobble up their rice and sleep with their shoulders to each other. No one would
be able to sleep in peace.
The girl was to be be blamed for the sin they almost committed. The two brothers also
saw it as as the Lord testing them, just as Harut and Marut were sent over to Babel.
Even as the angels’ test were a failure, the Lord had saw fit to forgive them. The
brothers had heard the story numerous times from the mullah at Paramanik’s. But
Rahim and Kuddus had no way of escaping from their sins. The two brothers had been
stabbed with the same knife of sin. But to save themselves from fratricide they had
decided to return the girl to Goalanda.
They left on a boat at dawn. The river-path to Goalanda was straight and simple. One
did not have to learn the pathways here. The river itself took you to your destination.
Leaving the girl there, they got back and heaved a sigh of relief. At least, they had
saved themselves from killing one another. They hugged each other and cried. But they
couldn’t be like before anymore. The girl still held a powerful presense in their hearts.
They found that they could not focus on work.
The next Friday, Rahim did not return from the village. He got back a day later. Then a
few days later, Kuddus was gone for three days. This was how they took turns to go
missing for the girl. The brothers had realized that without Goalanda they wouldn’t be
able to live.
They decided to bring the girl back. The girl, helpless herself, believed them, too. She
couldn’t handle the brunt of her society, either. She wanted a little love too. And the love
of one man was still a dream of her’s. Even as it was getting to be a reality after a night
of pillage. But the Lord had polyandry on her fate. There was no custom to lead a
household with two husbands but at least the love of two brothers was a thing of joy for
her. She had heard of old stories of five brothers having the one wife. Compared to that,
two were less.
The month of Ashwin had pulled on the river. Rain drizzled most of the day. Rahim and
Kuddus were both adept at rowing the boat. They lived by the river – it wouldn’t make
sense to fear the water. The brothers hadn’t talked to one another on their way to
Goalanda, not even on the way back. The girl sat in silence in the middle. Her second
coming to these shores were more assured. She could not understand how their
dynamic would play out now. Before, she had a relationship with both the brothers.
Though they did not recognize it. She did not have to face the shame that time, but
now? She had a relationship with many. But she had never had to face a complexity
such as this. She had grown to blindly love the two brothers and depend on them. She
wouldn’t be able to explain why.
She wonders if it was right to have returned. Love was not for them. She had no mother.
Her father had married a second time. She doesn’t remember the stories any more. Her
life had been decided in a Goalanda slum. The life she had wrought with the two
brothers, in comparison, was complex and muddled. There was no path left to come out
of such sin. Yet she was able to accumulate quite the desirable memories with these
two after the incident of her rape.
Till then, no one had talked. Rahim sat still. Kuddus worked the oars. And the girl was
busy in her thoughts. There weren’t a lot of waves this time of the year. Rather, a
reverse current began to take hold. The drizzle hadn’t stopped but started to intensify.
Perhaps a depression was underway. They took place once or twice a year. The sky
was darkening with the onslaught of rain. The sky was not looking good. Rahim and
Kuddus began to feel anxious. Rahim moved over the hull and took over the helm. He
paddled with all the strength in him. They were hopeful the boat would make it. It was
only a few paces away. They knew how to swim well. Such a small distance was
nothing to worry about. Kuddus looked at Rahim. Rahim lowered them down. Then an
intense wind pushed them against the current. The wooden boat could not weather the
tension and broke apart, sinking away. The girl had helplessness in her voice. She cried
out: mother! The name of her Lord.
Two days later, the girl’s body floated ashore. Rahim and Kuddus found it together.
They both got down and brought up up. They dug a grave beneath the forests and
buried her there with care. Then they embraced each other and began to cry. This girl,
perhaps the only person besides their mother, was the only one they could both equally
call their own.