Gullee - Part Two

[FagunerAgun]

Shakir got up on the bed abruptly. The girl was around five feet four with an elegant figure. The girl was still standing in his room. She was feeling extremely shy.

Shagir Mia, the hall gateman, came forward and said, “Sir.”
“Yes!” Shakir was staring at Shagir Mia with his questioning eyes.

Then entered Bablu, well dressed and well groomed, his face was bearing a unique mix of happiness, joy and anxieity.

“Salam, sir.”
“Salam, Bablu, what is happening here?”
Bablu was standing there quietly and there was a clear hesitation on his face.
“Sir, we got married today.”
“You got married today!”
“Yes, sir.” He came forward and touched his feet. So did the girl.
“What is your name?”
“Romana, sir.”
“Sit down here, please!” They occupied two chairs in his room. Shagir Mia was still standing.

Shakir went to the inbuilt closet in his room and took out a fifty taka bill from his wallet and gave it to Shagir Mia.

“Shagir chacha, please go to Neelkhet More and buy four chicken biryanis and some sweet meat for us.”

“Sir, I will buy chicken biryani only, Dabir Ali, the mistiwalla is coming soon, we will buy good sweetmeat from him.”
“I like your idea, Shagir Chacha.”
Shagir Mia looked happy. He looked at them and said boldly, “I am coming soon.”

Shakir was a bit surprised at his behaviour.

They were sitting there, on the first day of their marriage, quiet and helpless. Shakir was feeling for them really bad, but he was happy as well at the courage and love of his student.
“Who was the witness of your marriage?”
“Shagir chacha.” This short was the answer of Bablu after a long silence.
“Are you still going to school?”Shakir asked to break the long silence.
“Yes, I am going to write the H. Sc. Examination next year.” She said with a pride.

“Our Bablu is going to write the S. Sc. Examination after a few months and now what he did is great but surely will not be an obstacle to his coveted goal.”

Romana raised her head. She looked at Shakir directly with her inquisitive eyes.

“I heard everything Shakir bhai. What you have done for him and for us is excellent, incomparable. But he could have waited for few years, then his child might have written the examination with him.” She said jokingly.

They laughed out loudly. Bablu looked at her new bride with a fake malignity on his face and she pouted her face. Shakir enjoyed it and laughed out again.

“Do you parents know the marriage or this relationship?”

“They do not know about the marriage but they know our relationship; and they are never happy.” She uttered the last few words with sadness and pain on her face, Bablu looked at her and had a big sigh of grief.

“What are you going to do now?”
“We have decided to keep this wedding secret, and slowly and as per the changing situation, and probably with your earnest support, we will decide what to do next. We do not like to hurt anyone.”

Shakir was surprised at her answer. He looked at Bablu quickly and he simply smiled.

“Good, I am always here to help and support. What is about Bablu’s side?”
“Í have not talked to anyone Sir. I don’t know what should I do?” Bablu said very indifferently.
”You just talk to your father and other relatives. This is your most important time Bablu. You need them more than they need you.”
“Yes sir, I will go to Savar next week and talk to my father and my step mother.”
“All right, everything is going smooth at this moment.” Shakir could not finish what he was trying to say, Shagir Mia entered the room with a soft knock on the door. They got the smell of chicken biryani.

He dropped the biryani boxes on the table and tried to give Shakir the changes.

Shakir said quickly, “Shagir chacha, you keep the changes and one biryani is for you. And thanks for everything you did for Bablu.”

“Sir, I did it for my good friend.”

He was surprised at his straightforward and honest answer.
“Shakir bhai and Bablu, I am going back to my duty, to the gate. I will be back after an hour.”
“Okay, Shagir chacha.” Bablu replied with respect.

There was a silence in the room after Shagir Mia left. The silence that everyone was enjoying instead of feeling bored.

“Please start with your biryanis now. Sorry I could not do more for you guys.”
“That’s oky sir. We are enjoying everything here. I feel good here.” Romana said without thinking.

They began to eat chicken biryanis. Wise Shagir Mia had already sent some drinks from the grocery store in front of the gate through a page boy.

They finished their biryanis, but they got emotionally choked few times. Shakir could not understand what he should have said or done to soothe their burning souls on their very wedding day.

“What you have done is your right, and an act of courage and love. Since today, you are going to start a new life in a strange way, but you are married and you love each other. Life does not treat fairly sometimes but bad time must end for a good time.” Shakir’s last few words were emotionally charged.

He saw rays of hope in their eyes.

“Lageni mitti mitti, lageni mitti mitti.” They heard through the deep silence.
Bablu stood up abruptly surprising his new bride and said, “Dabir Ali, the mistiwalla is here.”

He quickly opened the door. “Hi Bablu bhai.”
“Hi Dabir bhai. How are you?”
“I am okay, but you look like a magistrate today. So well dressed and look so handsome.”

Bablu laughed out loudly and said, “Come on in, Dabir bhai.”

Dabir Ali entered the room with his sweet meat buckets and dropped them on the floor.

“Salam si…”, he could not finish as he saw Romana sitting in this room and his jaws dropped with a great surprise. Bablu softly closed the door.
“Bablu got married today and she is Romana, his new bride.” Shakir said quickly.

Dabir Ali jumped in the air, and said, “Our bhabi, congratulations and some new mitti here for you.” He put two roshgollahs in a plastic plate and gave it to Romana.

She looked at him with her grateful eyes and said smiling, “Thanks, Dabir bhai.”

Dabir Ali served sweetmeat to them and then to everyone on the floor until his buckets emptied.

Bablu opened his wallet and pulled three fifty taka bills and extended it to Dabir Ali.

“What?” Dabir Ali got very angry.

Bablu was hesitating, he was thinking whether he should have given him more money.

“How dare you are, today is your wedding day, and your trying to give me money for the sweetmeats.?”
“This is your business. You live on it.”
“Yes, we will starve today with happiness.” Dabir Ali said boldly.
“I am so sorry Dabir bhi.” Bablu said in a choking emotion. Shakir observed something glazed up in Romana’s eyes. She put her head down to control her emotion.
“Now you tell me why you did not tell me about the wedding?” Dabir Ali burst with emotion.
“I am sorry again, Dabir bhai, I even could not tell our sir.” Bablu said nervously.

“Okay, then I am not going to be angry anymore.” Dabir Ali said softly and everyone in the room was feeling better.

“Lageni amra, amra, Barisaler amra.” They heard the knock on the door.
Dabir Ali abruptly opened the door and said, “Ei halarpu geli.”

“Bari gele khamu ki bhai.” Kanu, the amra walla admitted honestly.

“Hi, come on in Kanu.” Shakir said and Dabir Ali gave him way to enter the room. Kanu entered the room and saw Romana, and he was surprised.
“We got a new guest here today. Bablu got married today and she is Romana, his wife.” Shakir said while looking at Kanu directly.
“Our new bhabi!”
“Yes, Kanu.” Bablu said.

The boy opened his wallet and give a bill of taka ten to Romana. He said dramatically, “To my new bhabi from this poor guy.”

Romana stood up, accepted the bill and said, “You are not poor kanu.”

“Bhabi, that’s okay, now please tell me how many amras you need, because I need to leave to sell my amras.” Kanu said hurriedly.

“Hi Kanu, last time you give me an amra, it was so sour.” Shakir said jokingly.
“Sir, this amra is directly from Barisal, then Sadarghat, if it is sour, then Shagir chacha will stop me in the gate.”
Romana laughed out loudly the way Kanu talked.
“Okay, okay, give us four amras and then leave.”
“Okay sir.” He served four amras and then was about to leave. Shakir stood up hurriedly and took a five taka bill from his pocket.

Little Kanu said, “Sir, Romana bhabi, our great new bhabi has just said I am not poor. So please not today.” There was something so great and forceful in his voice that Shakir put the money back to his wallet.

“Salam sir and new bhabi, next time we will eat biryani.”
“See you Kanu.” They uttered together.

The silence came back to the room. Romana was eating her amra with a great interest, actually, she was enjoying it.

“I never thought people love my husband so much!”
Shakir and Bablu looked at each other, and they were surprised.
“You married a good man, Romana.” Bablu said.
“Yes, I know that, Mister.” Romana simply pouted. Shakir was enjoying the banters between them and was smiling silently.

There was a silence in the room again. Shakir broke the silence and said, “I hope Bablu will keep coming to my room for coaching and he will get ready for the examination in a full force.”

“Sir, yes, I agree you with, he said he was going to get a first division, let’s see how he will keep his promise.” Romana said.
“I will, you see.” Bablu said boldly.
Then came in Shagir Mia after a soft know on the door. “Let’s go guys.” He said rushing.
“Sir, it was very nice here. Thanks for everything.” Romana said holding her emotion.
“Well, you got everything that you need on your wedding - love and caring. And today, you got them from unknown people but these are genuine.” Shakir said.
“Yes, sir, after the wedding, I did not expect that I would get so much today. Everyone was so nice to us today.” Bablu said.
“Yes, Bablu, life is a long journey. In your journey, you have to pass many nights in the inns and every night you meet new people and then next day you lose them. What matters is how you accept them.”

Romana began to weep. Bablu’s head was down. Shagir Mia said again, “I have to leave guys.”

Romana came forward and touched Shakir’s feet and so did Bablu. They came outside.

Shakir said, “Bablu, you don’t go with Romana, you stay in your room.”
“Why sir!”
“Because you said that cops are looking for you. Now you have a burden of two lives. You need to be more careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Shagir chacha, you take a CNG and escort her all the way to her house.”
“Yes, sir. Salam.”
“Salam.”

Romana rubbed her eyes and left with Shagir Mia; and Bablu, slowly and dejectedly, entered his room with a broken heart.

*****

Shakir almost forgot this incident. A couple of weeks after, Bablu came in to his room with his books and a bag.

“Salam sir.”
“Salam. Bablu how are you and Romana?”
“Everyone and everything is so good, sir.” There was something so significant and emphatic in his voice that Shakir became curious.
He occupied a chair and dropped the bag on the floor.
“Sir, I went to Savar and met my father. I explained everything, my study, my marriage and you.” Bablu almost screamed.
“What did he say?”
“My father listened carefully to everything, he suddenly hugged me and began to cry.”
“Oh, seems to me ice is cracking.”
“Yes sir, he was so happy that you are coaching me. From this month, he is going to give me two thousand taka every month for my study. Furthermore, he, with my step mother, is coming to meet my wife and my in-laws in Dhaka. I can’t believe I will have such a wonderful time in my life. I am, sir, I am so happy!” Shakir was looking at his happy and cheerful face with a great wonder.

Bablu continued, “Sir, I am scared as well.”
“Why Bablu?”
“When a broke person gets so much then sometimes it is normal to lose everything.”
“Ah Bablu! Don’t talk like this, Today is your happy day and you should enjoy it.”
“Yes sir.” Then he began to open the plastic back and took out a box. He opened the box and gave him a nice, silk shirt.
“Sir, my father gave you as a present, the best in his garments factory. He gave salam to you.”
“Oh, thank you Bablu. I will be glad to meet your father.”

Shakir looked so happy. He tried few times to buy a silk shirt in Cat’s Eye but failed because could not afford it.

Then Shakir saw Bablu was extending his hand with a book and said, “This is for my Sir, from the bottom of my heart.”
Shakir accepted the gift. The name of the book, “Manush Gorar Mistri.” He was so surprised.
Shakir began to teach him maths. Bublu was getting sharp and shaper, Shakir was very happy.
He stopped on time and Shakir was annoyed a bit.
“Sir!”
“Yes Bablu!”
”I have given up already my dangerous business. I like to be a good man.”

Shakir simply was holding back his emotion.

On that day, while Bablu was leaving his room, Shakir asked Bablu, “Bablu, I did not see Dabir Ali, the mistiwalla for few days.”
“Sir, he is not coming to the hall anymore to sell sweetmeat.”
“Why?”
Bablu hesitated. He said, “I told my father everything about Dabir bhai, and my father gave him a good job in his garments factory in Savar.”
Shakir kept on staring at him and slowly said, “I am going to miss him.” Bablu left silently.

*****

A month after, it was around ten pm. Shakir came to his room and finished his dinner and was resting before he began to study.
He heard a loud sound of a gunshot and then the F. Rahman Hall bell began to ring continuously, a sound of emergency and everyone must go the hall gate for safety.

Shakir got up quickly, and grabbed his shirt and was rushing to the gate. When he reached the hall gate, he was a small group of students gathering someone lying on the floor. Shakir approached them and saw with a great shock and awe that Bablu was lying there, his head was badly bleeding. He sat down quickly and grabbed his head and said crying, “Bablu, please, please don’t do it to me.” He found out a bullet went through his skull - no need to take him to a hospital.

Bablu opened his eyes and mumbled, “Sir, I am sorry. I tried to get rid off my bad past but my bad past did not get rid off me. Thanks for everything, sir. Please tell Romana that I love her and she is pregna…” His head fell on his lap. Shakir screamed, “Bablu, my Bablu, why it happens to good people.”

Shagir Mia came rushing and stopped there and became stoned.

Next morning, everyone left the hall as there was an emergency. Shakir as well being broken hearted and gravely sad. Few hours after, a student revolution took place in the university campus and the students burnt F. Rahman Hall to ashes. All the non-student oursiders were kicked out.

In that evening, Shakir somehow managed to come to his friend’s home in Azimpur colony. Around 8 pm, silently he left his friend’s home and came to NeelKhet slum and toppled the half burnt hall wall of F. Rahmann Hall and was heading to the place where his room used to be, now there was all debris where smoke was still bellowing from.

He reached the room where it used to be and began to search for his suitcase and for some important documents. He saw a burning book and picked it up. He opened the page and saw the handwriting of Bablu, “To my respected Sir.” – Bablu. He sobbed up bitterly.

Still Shakir could hear what once Bablu told him, ““When a broke person gets so much then sometimes it is normal to lose everything.”
He whispered being overwhelmed with emotion, “Oh! Poor Balbu.”

Suddenly he saw some people close to Mohsin Hall wall. He got scared and heard a roar, “Dhor shalare.”
He saw something in their hands. He began to run and they began to chase hm.
He ran few steps and was about to topple the wall, he felt a big push on his back and heard a gun shot. He fell on the ground. The darkness descended on his eyes with eternity.

Everything was burnt in that Hall to ashes in next few days, except those large coconut trees. They were so tall that they were strikingly poking out into a different hemisphere. On a dark and starry night, these large trees think, “Why these stars are created so great, so beautiful in the magnanimous and compassionate sky? Why do they look so quiet, silent and calm forever, and on the ground, things are so turbulent and painful, and why are simply good things swallowed by the cruel mother Earth? Why do these beautiful and amazing people build with hope, fascination and fantasies; break with anger, despair and dejection and build again with a hope that is triumphant over their bitter and sad experience or with extremity; then one day they simply die and disappear?”

The reflective trees, with affliction and sordid feelings of their long life-time and solemn experience through ages, in this deep, dark and silent mysterious forest of human beings try to find the answer of their inquisitive minds and often plunge into the darker and gloomier shades of the dismal human behaviour, with a melancholy voice from a whispering and bemoaning wind from the true South.

*****

After sixteen years, around 2002, a CNG quietly stopped in front of the rebuilt F. Rahman Hall. A lady in white clad and with a boy of sixteen got off the vehicle and paid the fare and approached to the hall gate. They asked one waiting and anxious gateman, “Where is Shagir Mia?

The gatekeeper answered, “He is here. Please have a seat in the guest room. He will be here soon.”

They went to the guest room and were sitting on the sofa. The lady sobbed out bitterly.

An old man came hurriedly and entered the guest room but he stopped abruptly and exclaimed with a great wonder, “Romana!”

The lady stood up and said, “Shagir chaha!” The boy was looking at their faces with a great surprise.
“How are you Romana!”
“I am okay Shagir chacha, how are you!” She whispered emotionally.
“I am okay Romana. He is your boy?”
“Yes, chacha.”

He was looking at her face and went back to those days. Now after so many years, she had no rash of time and she looked still so beautiful and elegant. She was wearing a white share without any makeup and jewellery. He was feeling so much pain.

“So now how can I help you?”
“Chacha I came here to visit his room.”
“His room?”
“Yes!”
“But you cannot get into it.”
“That’s okay, still I like to go in front of his room.” She sobbed out again.
“Okay, let’s go.”

Everyone was following Shagir Mia. They came all the way to the room number one hundred seventy nine. The room was closed. But the she got the smell of her husband.

Romana said while sobbing, “This is room where your father used to live.”
The boy looked at the door and then at his mother with wonder and sadness.

Then they moved to the next room and that room was locked as well. The boy was looking at his mother with his questioning eyes.

“In this room, your father’s great teacher used to live. They were killed on the same day.” Now she began to weep. The boy’s eyes became watery. Shagir Mia was standing there being life-less. He whispered, “Romana, every day I go through this pain of love and loss.”

She burst into tears. They came to the same guest room. There were no other guests there waiting for anyone. They were standing.
“Shagir chacha!”
“Yes!”
“I am leaving this country next week for the West. I have already resigned from my job as an Office Manger.” Romana said while bitterly sobbing. There was so much pain and sadness on her face that Shagir Mia became stoned.
“I am leaving because my family members and my neighbors, after my father’s death, did not accept the existence of Shakir.”
“Who is Shakir?”
“I am Shakir.” The boy replied boldly.
“Oh, I can’t believe why human beings are so cruel to human beings. Humanity has waned from this human race.”

He paused and then continued, “You didn’t get married again!”
She smiled bitterly, “I didn’t get anyone better than my husband. Every one sees my beauty and body, I can feel it.”
Shagir Mia felt ashamed of his question. He said, “He was a very good man.”
“Yes, chacha, I don’t want my son go through the same situation that his father went through.”
“A good and bold decision, I support it.”
“Yes, chacha, I am going to set sail of my small boat in a big, turbulent ocean.”
“My dear, you did that on your very marriage day.”
“If my son comes back in future, please accept him.”
“Please don’t talk like this Romana. I will always be waiting for you.”
“Bye chacha.”
“Bye and the best of luck.” Shagir Mia sobbed out few times.


Shakir and his mother came out of the gate. Shakir was a bit surprised and angry with his mother. “Who is that old man?”

Romana stopped abruptly, “He was the only one witness of our marriage.”
Shakir said, “Mother, I am sorry, I do apologize.” They began to walk to their endless journey.

Shagir Mia was watching them through the railing of the balcony of the hall gate. He did not hear their conversation but he understood what was that.

He whispered, “You are a deity. You go where ever you want to for your peace and prosperity but this country will miss a sacrificing mother and a good wife of a good man.” He sobbed out bitterly.

***The End***

***This story is for Banglacricket only. All characters are imaginary.

[ahnaf]

Nice story..

Posted via BC Mobile Edition (Opera Mobile)

[Zeeshan]

I personally believe choppy sentence structure such as "He severed four amras and then about to leave" and "Tears were rolling down through his cheeks" actually WORKS for Bangladesh themed English literature. After all that's how most of us speak. It's kind of distinct identity akin to the colors of blue faces in rickshaw art. I would compare this literary genre to the highly acclaimed Fauvist painting movement of which Matisse was an integral proponent.

Looking forward to Part 3 but only if it's for Banglacricket members.

[FagunerAgun]

Originally Posted by Zeeshan
I personally believe choppy sentence structure such as "He severed four amras and then about to leave" and "Tears were rolling down through his cheeks" actually WORKS for Bangladesh themed English literature. After all that's how most of us speak. It's kind of distinct identity akin to the colors of blue faces in rickshaw art. I would compare this literary genre to the highly acclaimed Fauvist painting movement of which Matisse was an integral proponent.

Looking forward to Part 3 but only if it's for Banglacricket members.

The title says what kind of English would be here.

I focus on Literature, not on English Grammar. For correct English Grammar, I need two more eyes - a proof reader.

And the blue color of the faces on the rickshaw paints is the very root of Bangladeshi culture, our tradition that overpowers those phlematic arts and paints. And this empowerment is for the targeted readers of this story - who are Bangladeshis truly by heart, not the fake ones.

And, that's the end of the story. Thanks for your input.

[FagunerAgun]

Originally Posted by ahnaf
Nice story..

Posted via BC Mobile Edition (Opera Mobile)

Thanks.

[Zeeshan]

Originally Posted by FagunerAgun
The title says what kind of English would be here.

I focus on Literature, not on English Grammar. For correct English Grammar, I need two more eyes - a proof reader.

And the blue color of the faces on the rickshaw paint is the very root of Bangladeshi cultur, our tradition that overpowers those phlematic arts and paints. And this empowement is for the targed readers of this story - which are Bangladeshis truly by heart, not the fake ones.

And, that's the end of the story. Thanks for your input.

I am not sure if you are agreeing with me agreeing with you or you are disagreeing.

[FagunerAgun]

Originally Posted by Zeeshan
I am not sure if you are agreeing with me agreeing with you or you are disagreeing.

Just give me your thought whether you liked this story or not - by criticizing the characters, settings, plots etc.. The question of agreeing or disagreeing is a matter of those individuals who have low self-esteem and self-awareness.

[bujhee kom]

FagunerAgun mama, your writing has a natural sense of "kindness" in it. You write and describe very intimately and it shows elements of a bygone (nostalgia) era (Yellow grey Dhushor old photographs)and also reflects your own memomries of event from your own lives sometimes I believe, what I mean here I think you see yourself in your imagination, in these contexts as well which makes it very personal and intimate. I just simply love this story! You are a great story-teller, it comes from the very deep in your heart.

[FagunerAgun]

Originally Posted by bujhee kom
FagunerAgun mama, your writing has a natural sense of "kindness" in it. You write and describe very intimately and it shows elements of a bygone (nostalgia) era (Yellow grey Dhushor old photographs)and also reflects your own memomries of event from your own lives sometimes I believe, what I mean here I think you see yourself in your imagination, in these contexts as well which makes it very personal and intimate. I just simply love this story! You are a great story-teller, it comes from the very deep in your heart.

Dear bk, thanks for your literary insight with a great analysis.
These are the writer's imagination and skills that make a story so personal and intimate.

[Naimul_Hd]

Great writing faguneragun bhai. I agree with BK da, your story telling is intriguingly wonderful with perfect emotions and kind feeling. Another positive side is you write with simple yet powerful word unlike one who writes with difficult twisted sentences, words which make reader uninterested. If a reader cant understand what writer wants to say, then what's the point of writing, right ?

thank you again for taking your time and dedicating this story to BC members

Keep writing brother

[bujhee kom]

Originally Posted by Naimul_Hd
Great writing faguneragun bhai. I agree with BK da, your story telling is intriguingly wonderful with perfect emotions and kind feeling. Another positive side is you write with simple yet powerful word unlike one who writes with difficult twisted sentences, words which make reader uninterested. If a reader cant understand what writer wants to say, then what's the point of writing, right ?

thank you again for taking your time and dedicating this story to BC members

Keep writing brother

Right on Naimul...His wordings, dialouge between the characters have a meloncholy (spell) innocence to it.....when I read FagunerAgun mama's "Gullee", I feel he is trying to break a kind of new ground here, he writes short descriptive sentences and his conversations between the characters carry an inherent (spell) tone of Bangaliness of A Time...the early days of an independent Bangladesh. His portrayals of Dhaka city of that specific era, a certain areas, the campus of the great Dhaka University where the author himself went as a student, the TSC, the other areas/neighbourhood and their essence, he talks about these people, his charecters from a time that was much purer in innocence and the clear presense of a bygone era's purist Bangali ideology, believes and honor system. We get to experiece all these through his writing which are slowly disappearing from our social lives.

His characters make us feel at ease, comfortable, they feel very familier to us, again from a time when things were a bit more serene and calm.

[FagunerAgun]

Thanks Naimul bhai and BK for your insights and encouragement.