My five-year-old daughter, Mini, can't help but say a word. He was born on earth and spent only a year learning the language, and since then he has not wasted a single moment in silence as long as he is awake. His mother often threatens to shut his mouth, but I can't. If Mini is silent, it looks so unusual that she can't stand me for long. That's why his conversation with me went on with some enthusiasm.
In the morning, as I was handing over the seventeenth chapter of my novel, Mini Asiya started, “Dad, Ramdayal was calling the doorman a crow, he doesn't know anything. No? ”
Before I could begin to teach him about the variety of languages in the world, he came to a second point. “Look, Dad, Bhola used to say that elephants throw water in the sky with their trunks, so it rains. Mother Go, Bhola can talk so softly! Just talk, talk day and night. ”
Without waiting for my opinion on this, he suddenly asked, "Dad, who is your mother?"
I said to myself, sister-in-law; I said in my mouth, “Mini, you will play with Bhola. I have a job now. ”
He then sat down beside my desk at my feet, took his two knees and hands and began to play agadum-bagdum in a very fast accent. In my seventeenth chapter, Pratap Singh is then taking Kanchanmala and jumping from the high window of the jail in the dark night into the water of the river below.
My house is on the side of the road. Suddenly, Mini ran to the window, playing Agdum-Bagdum, and shouted, "Kabuliwala, O Kabuliwala."
Dressed in loose clothes, with a turban on his head, a sack around his neck, a box of two or four grapes in his hand, a tall Kabuliwala was walking softly on the way - it's hard to tell what kind of emotion my daughter Ratna had when she saw him, I started shouting at her. I thought, now a calamity will come upon Jhuli's neck, my seventeenth chapter will not end.
But, as Kabuliwala smiled at Mini's screams and started walking towards our house, she ran to the inner city with a sigh, no sign of him was seen. There was a blind faith in his mind that if he searched inside the bag, he could find two or four living human beings like him. Kabuliwala came over and greeted me with a smile - I thought, although the condition of Pratap Singh and Kanchanmala is very critical, it is not good to invite the man home and buy something from him.
Something was bought. After that five words came. Abdur Rahman, Russia, the British, etc. began to talk about border protection policy.
When he finally got up, he asked, "Babu, where did your daughter go?"
I called her from the inner city with the intention of dispelling Mini's unfounded fears - she leaned against my body and stood with a suspicious look at Kabuli's face and bag.
Kabuli took the raisin apricot out of the bag and went to give it to her, she didn't take anything, she remained close to my knee with double suspicion. The first introduction went like this.
A few days later, one morning, as I was about to leave the house, I saw my daughter-in-law sitting on a bench near the door, talking fluently, and Kabuliwala sitting at her feet, listening with a smile, and occasionally expressing her views in Bengali. In Mini's five-year life experience, she has never had such a patient audience without her father. Again, his small area is full of nuts and raisins. I said to Kabuliwala, “Why did you give him all this? Don't give it away. ” I took a half from my pocket and gave it to him. He unhesitatingly accepted the half and put it in the bag.
When I came back home, I saw that there was a disturbance with that half. Mini's mother scolds Mini with a white glossy substance and asks, "Where did you get this half?"
Mini says, "Kabuliwala gave."
His mother says, "Why did you take half of it from Kabuliwala?"
"I didn't want it, he gave it to you," said Minnie.
I came and rescued Mini from her impending danger and took her out.
I got the news that this is not Mini's second meeting with Kabuliwala, he has already come almost every day and has taken possession of Mini's small lustful heart by bribing her with peanuts.
I saw that there was a lot of talk and jokes between these two friends - for example, as soon as I saw Rahmat, my daughter would smile and ask, "Kabuliwala, O Kabuliwala, what is inside your bag."
Mercy added an unnecessary crescent and replied with a smile, "Elephant."
That is, the fact that there is an elephant in his bag is the essence of his ridicule. Not too subtle, but they both deal with their confidence as they choose to embark on their play activities, and in the early hours of autumn, I enjoy the simple laughter of an adult and a minor.
One more thing was common among them. Rahmat used to say to Mini, "Khonkhi, you will never go to your father-in-law's house!"
The word 'in-law' is familiar to the daughter of a Bengali family from birth, but we are the only ones who are not made aware of the in-laws. Therefore, he could not clearly understand the request for mercy. But it was against his nature to remain silent without answering a word. He would turn around and ask, "Will you go to your father-in-law's house?"
Rahmat boasted a huge fist towards his imaginary father-in-law and said, "Hami will kill his father-in-law."
On hearing this, he laughed at the misfortune of an unknown creature named Mini's father-in-law.
Now is the white autumn. In ancient times, it was at this time that the kings came out victorious. I have never left Calcutta, but that is why my mind wanders around the world. I feel like I am living in the corner of my house forever, my mind always for the outside world. As soon as I hear the name of a foreigner, my heart leaps, and as soon as I see a foreigner, the scene of a cottage in the river, mountain and forest comes to my mind, and the idea of a joyous independent life awakens in my imagination. On the other hand, I am such a vegetarian that once I leave my corner, I get a thunderbolt on my head. That's why I used to travel a lot in the morning sitting at the table in my small room and talking to this Kabuli. On either side of the friend's impassable burnt purple high mountain range, in the narrow desert, a class of loaded-camel walks; Turbaned merchants and passers-by ‘either after camels, or on foot’; Someone had a spear in his hand, someone had an old-fashioned flickering gun in his hand, Kabuli used to tell the story of his homeland in broken Bengal in a cloudless voice and this picture would pass before my eyes. Mini's mother is a very timid person; When he hears a sound in the street, he thinks that all the drunkards in the world are coming to our house with a special aim. The horror that this world is full of thieves, robbers, drunken snakes, tigers, malaria, caterpillars, caterpillars and gore has not gone away from him.
He was not completely sure about Rahmat Kabuliwala. He repeatedly asked me to pay special attention to him. When I tried to dispel his suspicions, he repeatedly asked me a few questions, "Does anyone ever steal someone's son?" Isn't slave trade common in Kabul? Is it impossible for a huge Kabuli to steal a little boy? ” I have to admit, it's not impossible, but it's unbelievable. Not everyone has the strength to believe, so my wife was afraid. But I could not stop Rahmat from coming to our house without any guilt.
Every year in the middle of the month of Magh, Rahmat goes to the country. This time he is very busy to collect all the money owed. I have to go back home, but still visit Mini once. In fact, it seems that there is a conspiracy going on between the two. The day I can't come in the morning, I see the evening has come. In the dark, in the corner of the room, when I saw the tall man in the loose-fitting shirt-pajamas, a real fear suddenly appeared in my mind. But, when I see Mini ‘Kabuliwala, O Kabuliwala’ and burst out laughing and the old simple joke continues between the two peers, all the hearts rejoice.
One morning I was sitting in my little room correcting the proofsheet. Today, two or three days before I said goodbye, the winter has become very cold and there is a lot of hiccups. The morning sun pierced the window and fell on my feet under the table, the warmth felt so sweet; I think it will be eight o'clock in the afternoon, almost all of them have returned home after completing the morning walk with their heads and necks tied up. At that time a heavy round was heard on the road.
Looking up, we see that Rahmat is being tied up by two guards - a group of curious boys following him. Blood marks on Rahmat's face and a bloody knife in the hand of a guard. I went out the door and made the guard stand; I asked what was the matter.
After listening to some of it, some of it from Rahmat, I came to know that one of our neighbors is a little indebted to Rahmat for the Rampuri chador - he falsely denies that debt and while arguing with it, Rahmat has given him a knife.
Rahmat was uttering various inaudible insults towards the liar, at which time Mini came out of the house shouting ‘Kabuliwala, O Kabuliwala’.
Rahmat's face became cheerful in a moment of laughter. There was no bag on his shoulder today, so they could not get used to the discussion about the bag.
Minnie asked him, "Will you go to your father-in-law's house?"
Rahmat laughed and said, "Going there."
Seeing that the answer was not funny, Mini showed her hand and said, "I would have beaten my father-in-law, but what can I do, my hands are tied."
Rahmat was sentenced to several years in prison for the crime of fatal injury. I kind of forgot about him.
When we sat at home and spent day after day in our usual routine, we could not even imagine how an independent mountaineer would spend the year in the prison wall. And, her father has to admit that the behavior of the fickle-hearted Mini is very shameful. He easily forgot his old friend and first befriended Nabi Sahis. Later, as he got older, he started making friends one by one instead of friends. He is no longer seen in his father's writing room. I kind of eavesdropped on him.
How many years have passed. Another autumn has come. My Mini's marriage has been settled. His marriage will take place during the puja holidays. With Kailasabasini, the joyous patriarchy of my house will darken and travel to the husband's house.
The morning has dawned very beautifully. After the rains, the new washed sunshine of this autumn has taken on a color like pure gold melted in Sohaga. Even on the untidy adjoining brick-and-mortar houses in the alleys of Calcutta, the aura of sunshine has added a wonderful charm. Sanai is playing in my house tonight. It was as if the flute was playing through the bones behind my chest. In Karun Bhairavi Ragini, my impending separation pain is spreading all over the world with the autumn sun.
Today is my mini wedding. Heavy noise from the morning, people's anagona. Bamboo is being tied in the yard and sails are being set up; The thumping of bushes in the house and on the porch of the house is rising; There is no limit to shouting.
While I was sitting in my writing room looking at the accounts, Rahmat came and greeted me. I didn't recognize him at first.
He didn't have that bag, he didn't have that long hair, he didn't have the energy in his body like before. I finally saw his smile and recognized him.
I said, "What a mercy, when did you come?"
"I was released from prison yesterday evening," he said.
Hearing the word, how it got to my ears. I have never seen a murderer directly, all my heart seemed to shrink when I saw him. I started wishing that it would be better for this man to get out of here on this auspicious day.
I told him, "We have a job at home today. I'm busy. You go today."
As soon as he heard that, he started to walk away. Finally, he went to the door and hesitated a little and said, "Can't I see Khonki once?"
He had faith in his mind, Mini is that way. As if he thought that Mini would come back with the same ‘Kabuliwala, O Kabuliwala’ as before, there would be no deviation from their very funny old laughter.