Shame: A Novel

by Taslima Nasrin

  "What'll BDR do if everything is burned to ashes? Will they gather the heaps of ashes at one point? Where was Tophael on the nights of the 6th and 7th? Why didn't he demand protection for minorities the same night?" Suranjan was gripped by excitement. He said, "The Awami League can hardly assume a holier-than-thou stance now."

  "Could it be that the Awami League hadn't gone in for anti-riot measures to bring discredit to the government?"

  "I've no idea. Might be it was like that. But all the parties are looking after their own interest for garnering votes in elections. No one cares for ideologies in this country. Politics is limited to the success of the parties in the elections. Their aim is to gather votes by any means-by fraud, by brute force or by tactics. The Awami League has already drawn the conclusion that it is going to corner all the Hindu votes. It is an assured 'vote bank.' In some places even their supporters were among the looters."

  "The scenario in some places went something like this: The mob led by the ruling BNP, after looting the Hindu houses and sacking Hindu temples, mockingly asked, 'Where are your saviors now, whom you voted for?' Awami League men have behaved in the same way in the areas which return BNP representatives. In Bhola the offender was BNP, while at Maheskhali, in Ghior and Manik- gainj the Awami League has been responsible."

  "Politics is certainly there at the root of all these incidents. But the fundamentalists are everywhere. By the way, is it true that there have been identical editorials in all the newspapers? Apparently they have all appealed for communal harmony," Suranjan said.

  "Don't you read newspapers?"

  "Don't feel like reading them."

  Maya reentered the room at this point. She placed an envelope on the table and said, "Ma asked me to give you this. She said she wouldn't need it."

  Before he could ask what Maya had given, she went out. Suranjan opened the envelope and found the two thousand takas that he had given his mother last night. Suranjan's face was burning with insult. What sort of hauteur was Kiranmayee trying to show? Or had she concluded that her unemployed son had collected this money by stealing or robbing? Suranjan was too overwhelmed by shame and shock to talk. Not even with Birupaksha.

  Kiranmayee's father was a renowned man at Brahman- baria. He was a reputed police officer named Akhil Chandra Basu. After marrying off his sixteen-year-old daughter to a doctor, he left for Calcutta with his entire family. At one time, he hoped that his daughter and son-in-law would follow him. Kiranmayee also believed that like all her relatives-parents, uncles, and aunts on both her father's and mother's sides-she, too, would leave the country. But she had landed in a strange family. She had been with her in-laws for six years. During these years she had watched her neighboring families take up their households and leave; yet she had never talked of leaving the country. She would often cry without letting anyone know. Her father's letters from Calcutta would invariably say:

  My dear Kiran,

  Have you decided not to come? Ask Sudhamay to think over the matter. We, too, never wanted to leave our country, but we have been compelled to make the decision. It's not that we are quite happy here. We indeed feel for the land we have left behind. Still one must accept reality. But I feel concern for your well-being.

  Your father.

  Kiranmayee would read these letters time and again, wiping away her tears. Frequently at night, she would tell Sudhamay, "Almost all your relatives have left. My relatives, too, have gone away. From now on, we won't find anyone to stand by us even with a glass of water at hours of need like sickness or grief." Sudhamay, with a smile on his face, would say, "Do you care so much for water? I'll see how much water you can consume with the entire Brahmaputra river at your command. Can your relatives provide more water than this river?" The proposal for leaving the country was never accepted by her father-inlaw, her husband or, for that matter, her son, Suranjan. Finding no way out, Kiranmayee had to adjust herself to this family. In doing so, Kiranmayee was amazed to find that she had become more involved than Sudhamay in their household matters, forging ahead through joy and sorrow, through days of affluence and poverty.

  Kiranmayee had sold her gold bracelets to the wife of Doctor Haripada. She kept the matter a closely guarded secret. And what was there to tell anyone? Gold and jewelry, after all, were not so invaluable that they couldn't be sold in time of need. Kiranmayee couldn't understand how she had so much love for her husband. After that traumatic ex perience of 1971, she couldn't get intimate with her husband. Occasionally, Sudhamay would lament, "Kiranmayee, I've perhaps cheated you too much, haven't I?" Kiranmayee realized what Sudhamay was referring to. She kept silent. She didn't know how she could say she had lost nothing. Heaving a deep sigh, Sudhamay would say, "Will you leave me, Kiran? I feel so scared."

  Kiranmayee could never think of deserting Sudhamay. Did sex come above other relationships for all human beings? Could the rest be left out? Was their thirty-five-year marriage so insignificant? Could living together for such a long time through the vicissitudes of joy and sorrow pale into permanent gloom? No, Kiranmayee realized: There was only one life to live. This life would never come back in unending cycles. Why could she not accept the pangs of strange separation? After 1971, Sudhamay had become incapable of making love. He felt so ashamed of his crippling inability. Off and on, he would wake her up during the dead of night to ask her, "Are you feeling any great agony, Kiran?"

  "What agony?" She would give the impression of not understanding the question.

  Sudhamay felt embarrassed to speak out frankly. He would press his face to the pillow, driven by the pain of his impotence. And Kiranmayee would spend sleepless nights facing the wall. Occasionally Sudhamay would say, "If you want to start your married life afresh, you are free to do so. I won't mind."

  It was not that Kiranmayee didn't feel any physical urge. She indeed had. When Sudhamay's friends came to visit and they sat around talking, their shadows would sometimes fall on her lap. She would be overcome with de sire, wishing that such a shadow might turn into flesh and blood, resting its head on her lap. However, she was not troubled by this physical urge for long. She passed her years in restraint. Age never stopped at a particular point. Twenty years fled past in this way. Kiranmayee also thought how it would be if the man she might have chosen in place of Sudhamay suffered from the same disability. Even if was potent, he might not be as large-hearted as Sudhamay.

  Every now and then, Kiranmayee thought that Sudhamay loved her too much. He would always be with her at the dining table. He would also drop the largest piece of fish on her plate. If she didn't have any help, he would volunteer for dishwashing, sportingly saying that he was quite adept at it.

  If Kiranmayee sat disinterested in the afternoon, he would say, "Your hair has become matted, Kiran. Come, let me comb it to remove the knots. Why not got to Ramna Bhavan and buy a couple of new saris for yourself? You don't have saris fit for household work. Had I enough money, I would have built a large house for you. You would then just walk around the courtyard, plant fruit saplings wherever you liked or have a vegetable patch or flower garden. Broad beans hanging from the creeper, gourds on scaffolds, dense jasmine blossoms on the win- dowframe; in fact, you would have found yourself more at home in that Brahma Palli house. But you know what my problem is. I never went in for the money-earning spree. It's not that I couldn't have earned well had I wanted to. Your father at the time of your marriage thought that I was someone with both a large house and wealth. Both the house and wealth are now gone: ours is more or less a hand-to-mouth situation. I don't regret this. But you perhaps feel the hardship."

  Kiranmayee was sure of the love of this simple, straightforward and harmless man for her. What was the harm if some petty pressures of life, or even some larger interests, could be sacrificed by loving such a good man? Kiranmayee had been nurturing a physical frustration since she was twenty-eight. But her mind was overflowing with a sea of love which was enough to keep down all her physical discomforts and other pains and sorrows. />
  Suranjan had given her money, possibly by borrowing it. Perhaps he suffered from some sort of inferiority complex for not earning. Still, she had some money remaining to run the household for some more days. Sudhamay never kept any money with him. He would hand over whatever he earned to Kiranmayee. Besides, some gold ornaments were still left.

  Suranjan suddenly stormed into the room shouting, "Do you think I've stolen this money? Or do you feel ashamed to accept money from an unemployed person like me? Perhaps I can't do anything. But that doesn't mean I lack the will. Can't anyone understand this?"

  Kiranmayee was motionless. Each of the words pierced her heart.

  Suranjan knocked at Ratna's door. It was Ratna who opened it. She didn't show any sign of surprise, as if she were expecting Suranjan to turn up. She took him straightaway to her bedroom. He was treated like an old relative. She was dressed in a cotton sari. She would have looked much better with a vermilion dot just above the joining point of her eyebrows. And only if the thin vermilion streak were there at the parting line of her hair. Suranjan didn't have any regard for the signs of rituals. But the Bengaliness of the married women with conchshell bangles, vermilion mark and the sound of conchshell indeed charmed him. All manner of worship was prohibited in their household. But he was not opposed to going round the Puja pandals with friends, dancing to the drumbeats during the time of special worship of the image, keeping beats with the songs blared by loudspeakers at pandals, eating a few sweets and such things. Ratna went inside to fetch some tea for him. Besides "How are you?" she didn't ask him anything. Suranjan also preferred to stay quiet. Rather, no words came to him. He had come to love her. After a long time, he had put on a well-pressed shirt after shaving, taking a bath and even using some perfume. Ratna's family members were her old parents, elder brother and herself. The married brother had his wife and son and daughter. The children were snooping around, finding no answer to their curious questions about who this new man was and what had brought him to her. They were hanging around the door. Suranjan asked a girl, aged about seven, "What's your name?"

  "Mrittika."

  "Bah, what a fine name. What's Ratna to you?"

  "Pishi."

  "Oh."

  "Do you work in my aunt's office?"

  "No, I don't do any work, just roam around."

  The idea of roaming around quite impressed Mrittika. Before she could ask anything else, Ratna emerged, carrying a tray with tea, some salted nuts, biscuits, and two types of sweetmeats.

  "What's the matter? Hindus are not supposed to be so generous with food these days. They can hardly go out of their houses. But here I find quite a lot. So, when did you come back from Sylhet?"

  "I didn't go to Sylhet. In fact, I visited Habiganj, Sunamgunj and Maulavibazar. I saw the destruction of three temples in Madhabpur market in Habiganj with my own eyes."

  "Who destroyed them?"

  "Who else but those bearded Mullahs sporting their caps. Then they targeted the Kali temple of the market. Two temples at Sunamgunj went the same way on the 8th. Four more temples, fifty shops were pillaged and then set on fire on the 9th. They smashed and set fire to four more temples and akhras at Rajnagar and Kulaura in Moulabiz- bazar. Seven shops at Brahmanbazar, too, were looted."

  "Certainly all those shops were owned by Hindus?"

  "That goes without saying," Ratna said, bursting into laughter. Offering him tea and salted nuts, she said, "Could you tell me if it will be possible to stay in this country any longer?"

  "Why not? Is this country strictly the Muslims' paternal property?"

  Ratna laughed, although her face reflected a tinge of sadness. She said, "In Bhola the people are forced to sign blank sale deeds for their properties before leaving. Some of them are getting some paltry amount, the less fortunate are going even without that."

  "Who are the people leaving Bhola? Certainly Hindus?"

  "Of course."

  "Then why are you not mentioning that?" said Suranjan, munching salted nuts.

  The mention of the word "Hindu" was superfluous.

  But Suranjan wanted Ratna to say clearly that the people whose houses and shops were being looted were not just people of Habiganj or Bhola, but belonged to a species called Hindus.

  It was not quite clear what Ratna felt. She just stared at Suranjan with her eyes showing unusual depth. He had decided earlier to bare his heart to Ratna unhesitatingly. He would say, "I like you very much. If you wish, we can get married."

  Ratna rose to get water. The end of her sari swept past Suranjan's left arm. The touch thrilled him. Well, Ratna could be his wife if she wanted that. It was not that Suranjan was thinking of marriage just to put down his Bohemian ways and settle into a family life of his own. He dreamed of playing with Ratna's fingers lying by her side, talking of his childhood when he could easily go out wearing no clothes at all. Through this idle yet intimate talk, he would reach a stage when there would be nothing unknown between them. There wouldn't be any barrier, visible or invisible, anymore. Ratna, as he perceived her, would rather be his friend than his wife.

  Suranjan felt somewhat embarrassed, not quite sure what the penetrating eyes of Ratna wanted to communicate. He said instead, "I just came to find out if you are unhurt."

  "Unhurt? The word has different meanings for men and for women. In which sense had you meant it?"

  "Both."

  Ratna bent her head, smiling. Her smile was not exactly sparkling, yet she looked quite attractive. Suranjan couldn't take his eyes off her face. Had he aged? Did the men of his age look too old, totally unsuitable for mar riage? Absorbed in his thoughts, Suranjan suddenly noticed Ratna had her eyes fixed on him. Her gaze had an aura of fascination.

  "Are you still sticking to your resolution about staying unmarried?" Ratna asked with a smile.

  After a pause, Suranjan said, "Life is just like a river, I think you know it. Does the river ever get blocked up? So, too, resolve can't remain irreversible. It changes."

  Ignoring the grim situation arising out of attacks on Hindus in the world outside, Ratna said, flashing a smile even at this critical hour, "I am indeed relieved to hear that."

  Suranjan didn't ask what she meant. He could imagine. Ratna was giving him pure joy. He felt like touching Ratna's fingers and proposing a walk in Salborn Bihar. "Let's he on the carpet of verdant fields with the moon standing guard over us. We won't ask the moon tonight to conceal its shine." He wished he could say and do all this. Going near the staircase, he thought of telling Ratna, standing with her hands resting on the door, "Let's change our firm decisions and do something together."

  But he couldn't say that. Ratna came down a couple of stairs and said, "Please come again. Your coming gave me the assurance of someone standing by my side. I feel I haven't turned into a loner."

  Suranjan could feel clearly the stirring of the spring that the sweet little sparrow Parvin had once awakened in his heart. He could see that he was beginning to float away into the heaven of happiness that Parvin had once opened up for him.

  uranjan picked up the morning paper along with his 'tea. He was in high spirits today. He had had a sound sleep the night before. After casting a cursory glance over the paper, he called Maya.

  "What has happened to you? Why are you so glum all the time?"

  "Nothing's the matter with me. You are the one who has been behaving strangely. You haven't sat beside Baba even once."

  "I don't like seeing a man, quite hale and hearty till the other day, now lying immobile on the bed. What I dislike all the more is your whimpering cries all the time by his bedside. Why, by the way, did Ma return the money I gave her? Does she have plenty of it?"

  "Ma has sold her ornaments."

  "She has done the right thing. I don't like the ornaments at all."

  "You are saying this now. But you did present a pearlstudded ring to Parvin Apa."

  "Then I was quite young, the world looked colorful, I lacked maturity. That's why I gave it."

 
; "Well, have you matured now?" Maya asked with a smile.

  Suranjan saw a flicker of a smile on Maya's face after a long time. In his bid to keep her cheerful, he drew her attention to the front page news and said, "Do you see? Peace processions have appeared on Dhaka streets. We, irrespective of our class, community and religion, are and will be in Bangladesh. All-party peace processions are boldly declaring: resist communalism. They are giving calls to thwart the disruptionists and looters. Violence in India is on the wane. The acquisition of the mosque land by the Uttar Pradesh government in that country has been ruled illegal by the High Court. Narasimha Rao has stated it is not the central government but the BJP-run Uttar Pradesh government which is responsible for the demolition of the Babri mosque. The army continues to be deployed in West Bengal, Gujarat and Maharashtra. The leftists have virtually declared a crusade against the fundamentalists. A rally is being held today at the Paltan Maidan by the Communist party of Bangladesh. The Awami League has asked for the formation of peace brigades for preserving communal harmony. The city's coordination committee has demanded the arrest of Nizami Kader mullahs for instigating riots. The Committee for the Extermination of Killers and Informers is also holding a rally today. All-party peace processions will march in the Tongi area. The slogan of the cultural front is: Bangladesh will surely put an end to communal forces. Fifteen prominent citizens have said in a statement that the task of maintaining communal harmony should be shared by all. Colonel Akbar has demanded the banning of fascist organizations like Jamat. A combined council for the preservation of communal amity has been formed in Barisal. The Dhaka University Teachers Association has said that the sanctity of the month observing victory after the country's liberation will be destroyed in the event of communal outrage. Twenty-eight people have been arrested on charges of temple destruction at Dhamrai. Jyoti Basu, West Bengal's chief minister, has regretted that India has lost face before the world."