The faces of the entire crowd had become flaccid
by the entrance of the man dressed in the fine suit (regalia for them as he was
the only villager who is owned it) with a face resembling a raisin with not any
paucity of emotions.
“This is not supposed to be a bazaar and
if any of you could not digest this then just get your marching orders.” The
employees stood there stagnated peeved by the trite remark. Pointing towards
the piece of equipment he asked,” who was in charge of this?” A timid woman, as
Amiran was her name with her distorted countenance came ahead .Her body
shivering tremendously from trepidation for she pointed out twice this month
for her gaffe.
“Don’t stand like a dumb round here. Is it
the way you were taught to do the embroidery. For your kind information these
clothes are to be worn by humans. But I don’t know why your dim-witted mind
can’t conceive this” he said vociferously staring down at the meek creature.
She tried hard to give the illuminations but the inarticulations didn’t permit
her to do so.
“Don’t act like a torpid .you nincompoop
deceit at work is same as the sin of embezzlement. Don’t be parsimonious at
your duty, in expending some endeavor your hands are not going to be worn off.
Now for what are you waiting for.Ramzan.Who is going to correct it.”
Then he rolled his eyes around, sneered at
all of them and led his way to his office. Amiran stood there inactive sunk in
her thoughts, entirely convinced about the abating in her salary and dabbled
her hands into the work completely embittered.
Almost all the workers abhorred their
Sahib (as they had given him the denotations of boorish devil, acerb, Hitler, a
freak but never ever used them). Nobody knew why he was so rancorous. Never
anyone had heard the words of eulogy from his mouth, for they wondered if he
had eves smiled in his life. If one had been given a choice between his banal
reprimands and carnage they would surely go for the latter one. Maybe he was
born like that as some asserted. There was some hearsay that his perversity was
because of marital dichotomy, while some said that he was a spy of the colonial
government, and all sorts of such rumors like that.
…………………….
One fine day the incessant stridency of
the mill was absent for the reason it was a lunch time. While he had a round
about the factory he heard a ringing sound. He looked into the attire through
the lattice to find out eccentric silhouette of an animal (or a human maybe for
it was too small) under the piles of clothes spread around creeping.
He descended downstairs and bawled in
order to enquire. After the residuum silence that followed a face so endearing
poked from inside. A child of about five inspected him with his sparkling
perspicacious eyes. The hoary man inquired,” Who are you and how dare you enter
my mill like this. Get out of here or I will call the guard, you notorious
monkey.” The child budged and adjusted towards the wall and then as a whim got
visible on his impish face, he sticked his tongues out at the man and flew out
of the sight. The man stood there recollecting the disgrace it had brought on
his part. For the first time someone had trifled him like this, for he was
unable to make his mind up how to react on this. Such intrepidity was worth
adulation but for these kind of words didn’t count in his vocabulary he went
back to his office with his abhorrent face.
The kid stopped; entirely exhausted by the
long spell of run. Her mother glanced at
her and inquired,” Where were you? I warned you not to roam around.” The child
shielded his fault with a decorum acceptance jollified by his escape from that
disheveled monster.
“Maaaa….” asked the child with great
acuity “who lives there up in that big room?”
“Don’t keep me pestering by your stupid
questions” said Amiran.
But the child in his quest led his
footsteps round the stairs. She caught impeded him and said,” Never ever try to
go there. A devil lives there.”
“A devil really”
“Hmmm… a very cruel one.”
He scrolled up his eyes with an intellect
of adventure.
……………………….
The next day the irresistible compulsion
of his acumen mind forced him to that haunted room. He lingered in the corridor
and peeped into the room and got a sudden realization that he was already
acquainted with the devil.
The senescent man with the brisk face was
indulged in his files.
“Maybe the devil incarnated into this
rough man” the young mind made the guess observing his moustache (an incredible
maze for a fly if it entered into it.)
The child attempted to open the door
surreptitiously but the handle was afar from the reach his tiny hands. The
doors suddenly flung open. Initially the head its entrance followed by the
shoulders.
The venerable man looked up for the sound
had made a hiatus in his work. They exchanged furtive glances with a pinch of
obfuscation.
“Hey you the devil” the child burst and
ran swiftly for his life. The man seated there, criped; jumped up to catch hold
of the monkey but was then reminded off that work counts first and was
compelled aback.
……………………..
The next day there was a repetition of
what had happened and for his part the man rushed behind that boy but returned
abort for the reason because those small feet were able enough to inoculate the
child from the old devil.
The process continued for about seven
consecutive days. One day the man fed up with his frivolous play waited for
that little guest to take his class. The boy in his pursuit of adventure banged
the door and shrieked the old epithet.
“Hey you scoundrel, stay there” cried the
man. The boy stopped unflinched to face the monster with an unwavering zest.
“Why do you call me a devil?”
“For the reason you are”.
“Who told you that?”
“My mother”
“Did she. What did she exactly said; that
I am a devil”
“Yes.. a perilous one”
“Is that the way …”
“Is that the way to call a decent boy a
scoundrel?” argued the boy grudgingly.
The man muddle minded by this lucid
argument for the child seemed more precocious than he had perceived.
“Why do you wear these anklets:
“My mother tied it when I was about one. “
“I don’t like its sound.”
“Was it a complain.”
“Yes.”
“It can’t be helped.”
The man stared at the suave face of the
child for his aberration had fussed him up.
“Why do you keep disturbing me like this?”
The boy put his head down in veneration, dodged
himself aside and then with the stroke of turbulence said aloud.” Because you
are a devil……” running through the building;” a very cruel one……..”
………………………….
The old man sat on his armchair alone in
his ennui with the corner of his eyes involuntarily moving towards the door. He
got up and paved his way down.
The boy was seated with his tomato-red
cheeks and moist eyes ingratiating his mother to give him the meal. Then soon
his eyes met with the wrinkled man. Forgetting his hunger the child crinkled up
in smile.
Then he pointed out his anklets
intentionally pinging it to seek his attention. The man gave a wry response
(the only articulation he had since seventy years.)
“Hey devil! “ addressed the boy, “you came
out of your room”. All the workers turned their eyes on the child imprudent of
the consequences of his callow remark. The egregious error of his son had
squelched each and every element of Amiran.
“You buffoon, how dare you say like that”
asked the man.
“Because you are. How come you forget it.”
Amiran
almost crippled fell onto the feet of the man. “Sahib” she said “I beg you a
pardon on behalf of my son. Please condone his erroneous fault” she stammered
almost sobbing.
“Why should you be sorry? You should
feel proud for the odious teaching you have taught to your brave son. Why I am
not so surprised this is what one can expect from such kind of people” berated
the man belligerently.
She
whined irresistibly for the bitter words had started their work. She caught
hold the hands of her son mordantly as the exit of the man was the cue for them
to efface.
It was a source of
amazement for him that what made him ask the boy that question. Was it in order
to recover the attack on his stature? The retrospect was useless as it didn’t
reach a conclusion.
………………………
The man as per his routine was
indulged in his work. But there was a slight change. He seemed to be apathetic;
his mind was preoccupied with reticent thoughts, his eyes were searching
someone. He was deviated from the work and ambled in the balcony. An emotion so
obscure; was penetrating inside him far beyond from the knowledge of his
phlegmatic mind.
As days passed by the recondite emptiness
dissipated him. Something which he could not figure out or rather didn’t want
to.
………………
Ring….ring…..ring………
The
man was invigorated by the sound as it touched his ears. He darted a look at
the door with an unknown revelry developing inside him. The sound got milder.
He sat back; hid his ardor and pretended to be unaware.
“Sahib, tea?” asked a worker as he
entered into the office. The broken kettle rang repeatedly.
“No…..not now”
The
worker departed. A strong compulsion dragged his footsteps towards the mill.
“Amiran” he said.
“Ji sahib”
“I heard a ringing sound. Was it your
son? “
“No Sahib. He threw open his anklets
the very day I scolded him”.
The man turned back for the twinge had
resulted into moistening of the eyes and it was now very hard to dissemble
it……….
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