A fishing net was cast into Haji Mokhles Mia's pond. A grand affair! Men and boys from the neighborhood crowded around, watching the fish being caught. These days, one rarely sees such a massive pond. Just as the pond was huge, it also held an abundance of fish of various species and sizes. Twice a year, these fish were caught with great ceremony.
Mayan sat on the south bank of the pond. In Mayan’s hand was a copy of Mark Twain's 'Adventures of Tom Sawyer,' with a bright red cover. He'd just picked it up from the public library. He was a bookworm, reading all sorts of books. He even dabbled in writing. Last week, a poem of Mayan's had appeared in the local newspaper, Jalchhap. The first four lines of the poem were:
বৃষ্টি এসে পরশ দিলো
হাসল হরিৎ বন
আজকে শুধু ঝরেই যাবে
মেঘ করেছে পণ।
Reading these four lines, Nadim scrunched his face and asked Mayan, "হরিৎ!What in the thing is 'হরিৎ'?"
Mayan laughed, "It’s not a 'thing,' you dolt. 'হরিৎ' means green."
At this, Nadim grew furious. He snapped, "This is a big problem with you poets. If you don't make simple things complicated, your kind loses its prestige. Would the Mahabharata have been ruined if you'd written 'green forest' instead of 'harit forest'?"
Mayan stammered, about to say something, but then stopped, perhaps rethinking it.
Mayan was looking at Mark Twain's picture on the book flap when Nadim moved closer to him.
"Do you know if there are any records of miserly people in the Guinness Book?"
"I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"This Mokhles Mia, the bastard, is the miser of all misers, a pot of wickedness. I don't think there's anyone in the world as stingy as him."
One couldn’t dismiss the statement. In terms of wealth and property, Mokhles Mia had no equal in the neighborhood. But in generosity, he lagged so far behind that even beggars from the surrounding two dozen villages had given up on him. It was said that once upon a time, if a beggar even approached his house, he would chase them away with a stick.
When Mokhles Mia returned from his Hajj pilgrimage, the villagers thought he might change. The opposite happened. Although the word "Haji" was added to his name, he retreated further into himself, associating with even fewer people. Detractors said that by increasing his miserliness, he was now recovering the money he had spent on the Hajj, with interest.
Nadim lowered his voice. "Do you know what happened a little while ago?"
Mayan shook his head, "No."
What Nadim said next genuinely upset the otherwise harmless Mayan.
The most helpless and harmless man in this village was Torab Ali. He was poorer than poor. Chentu was his younger son, about eight years old. A half-seer weighing Chital fish leaped from the fisherman's net onto the bank, and Chentu quickly snatched it up. His mother tried hard to make him let go. But who knew what evil spirit possessed Chentu that day? He wouldn't release the fish no matter what.
Mokhles Mia was sitting on a chair on the west bank of the pond. The incident caught his eye. He called Chentu in a soft voice, "Hey boy, come here."
Chentu approached, the Chital fish still clutched in his hand.
Mokhles Mia asked even softer, "Do you want the fish?"
Chentu nodded, "Yes."
Then, before anyone could understand what was happening, Mokhles Mia loudly slapped Chentu across the cheek. The fish fell from Chentu's hand. He looked at Mokhles Mia with a kind of surprise and disbelief. His eyes were filled with pain and unspoken accusation. Amazing!
This cruelty, even with five finger marks on his cheek, couldn't make him cry. He stood like an inanimate object. His mother came, wiping her eyes with her anchal, and led her son away. Mokhles Mia was still grumbling, "The son of a slave wants to eat fish. And a Chital fish at that! What a desire!" The incident was very sad. Mayan felt bad. The face of the thin, scrawny, undernourished, helpless Chentu kept coming to his mind.
"I need to talk to you urgently," Nadim said.
"Tell me."
"Can't say it here. Let's go to the field."
As Mayan and Nadim walked toward the field, the fishermen were collecting fish from the nets and placing them in a large pot. They were carefully selecting the fish, releasing the rest back into the pond. The chosen fish in the pot would be sold.
Haji Mokhles Mia was supervising. Pan juice trickled from the corners of his lips, staining his beard. It looked as if blood was dripping from the corners of his mouth. He looked rather hideous. Mayan had read Bram Stoker's 'Dracula'. It occurred to him that Mokhles Mia was some close relative of the vampire Dracula.
The only field in the village lay beside a marsh called Nishinda Bill. It was covered with water lilies and lotus leaves. A footpath, cutting through the field's green grass, ended at an ancient banyan tree. The vast tree's sprawling branches had witnessed ages.
Mayan and Nadim sat on one of its roots. From here, Thetrai Bazaar was visible. A part of the Zhilldaha Bi-directional High School's office building could also be seen. Mayan and Nadim were both eighth-grade students at this school. School was closed now. It was Puja holidays.
A warm breeze from the south, cooled by the marsh water, brushed against them. Nadim said, "You have a cast net, don't you?"
"Hmm."
"Can you throw a net?"
"Very well. I now cast the net myself and catch fish in our pond."
"Eureka!"
Nadim clapped his hands.
"Tell me what you're up to, Nadim," Mayan said, with a suspicious tone.
"Tonight, we're going to steal fish from Mokhles Mia's pond. We'll give all the stolen fish to Chentu's family."
Mayan laughed, "You've lost your mind. Do you know what hydrophobia is?"
"No."
"Rabies. A terrible disease. There's no cure. Once it catches you, you go straight up."
"I don't understand."
"Idiot! Have you forgotten Mokhles Mia's dog? I heard it's let loose at night. It circles the pond all night. I've never seen such a dirty and ill-tempered dog in my life. If that bites you, it's definitely rabies."
"For your kind information, the dog died two days ago."
"Really?"
"By God. I was there when Mokhles Mia's middle son buried it."
"What did it die from?"
"I don't know that. Now tell me, what will you do?"
"The fish are being sold. Will there be any fish left in the net?"
"What do you mean, 'won't there be'? Not all of it is being sold. And can Mokhles Mia's fish ever be caught entirely?"
Mayan scratched his head. "That's true. Still, my heart isn't responding."
"Just think how happy Chentu will be if he gets fish. Who knows how long they haven't had fish."
"Will they take stolen fish?"
"Of course they will. Leave that part to me. I initially had another idea. I almost decided to poison all the fish in the pond. But then I realized it would be very wrong. There'd be police trouble. Then, seeing you, the idea of stealing came to mind."
After that, there was no more objection. Although his mind had a bad feeling, Mayan eventually agreed. They decided they would launch their theft operation after ten tonight. Nadim would come and call Mayan around half past ten.
To be continued....
With💙
