Mr. Nandy kept marching forward holding Mahadev’s hand followed by the four huddled together. Jyotsna was suddenly aware of all the sounds around her. The crackling of a twig, the crushing of the leaves under their feet and the insects buzzing around in the distance. But there was something else that took her thoughts astray. A low persistent hum, like the scraping of stones with a stone cutter or a hand drill. Like metal on rock.
They walked in silence for a minute. Then Anwar spoke, “When I saw ‘IT’, It felt like a gigantic dragon with huge shiny eyes and sharp jaws.”
Mr. Nandy stopped abruptly and the kids rammed into him. He turned around and stared at Anwar. “I am a simple village man and value the lessons taught by our elders enormously. Make it a habit not to trivialize warnings given to you. It has been an unspoken rule in the village to avoid the forest to shorten your travels. And at times when the powers of evil are exalted kids have been known to disappea
The Fist Fight The next day school ended with excitement! Jyotsna, Anwar and the twins were all up for the duel and hurried with the rest of the Karate kids onto the school grounds. “I wonder whom I will fight” Said Anwar loudly. They edged forward onto the chattering crowd and looked at Sabu Sir. He was standing in the middle of the grounds, in his candy white robes and black belt, waving his hands with a wide grin. Fire Sir was towering beside him with a stern face, almost sad. The chatter died away and Sabu Sir said, “You’ll be dividing into pairs, but choose an opponent of your own stature. The one left out wait for your turn.” The students began to shuffle and shift like a colony of lost ants. Jyotsna stood there and saw Anwar’s red head move towards Mahadev. Ruben and Brojen faced each other, scowling, to the right of Anwar. Just when she thought she was left out, Piu, the big seventh grade girl took the place in front of her. Jyotsna sa
It was nearing five thirty and Mr. Sharma was sitting alone in his dingy cabin, staring at the long accounting logs. It was an hour past the usual office hours and he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. He had read and reread the logs, double checking every single entry for its legal sanctity. Everything added up and yet there was this unmistakable entry, like a small splinter in your nails that hurts a lot but doesn’t come out. Every month a huge sum of money was credited from a small time vendor that didn’t match with any purchase, sales or tax entry. He cursed his fate for opening the unsolicited envelope he received anonymously. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and curiosity killed the cat! Now he was stuck with these logs and the cursed knowledge of the unknown source of investment, illegal in all probability. He could burn the papers and forget he had received any such letter and live with the forbidden fruit. His pulse quickened at the very thought of covering up. Why
The karate club had flourished to new bounds ever since Fire sir had taken over. Duelling was still on though nobody got hurt. Fire Sir presided every duel with a keen eye. For two weeks now, they had been practising for their first ever belt. Jyotsna had observed Anwar performing extraordinary feats. Fire sir himself had joined in to applause Anwar’s excellent three feet high round kick. Anwar, Jyotsna and Fire sir had become friends ever since he accompanied them to the hospital wing. Jyotsna had learnt that Fire sir was an orphan, and had served the Kolkata police as an Inspector before retiring voluntarily. He lived inside the school in one of the quarters made for the scullery maid when the school was still a royal fort. He had invited them to visit his dwelling. After the class ended, Jyotsna & Anwar started to follow him. He stopped abruptly so that Jyotsna rammed her head straight into his back. She looked around and saw Fire sir staring at Sabu sir who was talking anima
Mr. Sharma couldn’t believe his ears! Right before his eyes Nelson disappeared and now his father was dead. He couldn’t fathom what fate had befallen on the unfortunate accountant’s family. Grief changed to fear when he realised he was privy to an information that might very well have been the reason for the accountant’s death. For it was just a few weeks ago when Mr. Abraham had met him. His eyes were dark and looked tired. Twice he was heard arguing loudly with Mr. Nandy and on the day his kid disappeared, he had stayed late from work. All Mr. Sharma could think off was keeping Jyotsna safe. He turned off the television and turned to his wife. “Lock the door and do not open until you are sure it’s me” Mrs. Sharma looked bewildered. “What’s the…” But before she could finish, Mr. Sharma held her shoulders in a tight grip and said, “Do as I say. Do not open the door for anyone! I’ll be back within the hour.” Before he stepped out, he turn
Jyotsna was up at dawn, but somehow she still had a great deal to pack. Her mother dashed around the house looking for clothes and valuables. Her father ran into Jyotsna in the living room, still in his pajamas holding a steaming mug, tea dripping on the floor. Anwar’s mother had arrived to help them. Her red hair floated behind her as she ran around the house running errands. Mr. Jawed nearly tripped over the trunk her mother had jam packed with clothes. At last, they entered a taxi, an old ambassador Padmini, Anwar accompanying them to the school. They had barely driven for a minute when they were back. Jyotsna had forgotten her chemistry set. Two minutes after that they skidded to a halt inside the school administration building. They unloaded their suitcases and their cycles and Jyotsna boarded the third room on the first floor of the girl’s dormitory. Then, she waved her parents goodbye as Anwar stood beside her. The car disappeared around the curb.Jyotsna l
It was mid-April in a small village in Bengal, some forty kilometres from Kolkata. Jyotsna Sharma was sitting in one corner of a classroom, overlooking the field outside. Purple flowers adorned the grass here and there and a small sparrow sat in ambush, perched atop a small bush, waiting for the juiciest grasshopper to wander its way. Jyotsna was a regular eleven year old and was as white as marble and as thin as a twig. Her father had a day job and was a part time community priest. An eternal Brahmin, he was proud of his ‘Gotra’, the lineage. They descended from the great seer, Rishi Kashyap in whose honor the Indian state of Kashmir was named. Jyotsna lived in a small industrial village of Kaligram where her father worked as the testing supervisor in the factory. They lived in the company quarters that had a huge playground, a temple and a small shopping corner where you could buy groceries, stationary and other essentials. School was a block away, just around the
It was three thirty in the evening when Jyotsna and Anwar went back. They sneaked through their secret tunnel (they called it a tunnel for want of a better word) and tiptoed to the classroom. It was empty except Jyotsna’s bag and Anwar’s slate on the teacher’s desk. Someone might have put it there.“I won’t go home”, Anwar said.“Where will you go then?” Jyotsna’s interest peaked.Anwar just looked at her and shrugged his shoulder, “Abba will kill me if he finds out what I did. But you don’t go telling him anything”“I won’t” she pouted.“Swear it! Or I’ll tell about your diary!”“I swear I won’t tell” She stormed out of the class leaving him behind. The diary was a secret she had entrusted Anwar with! She couldn’t imagine he would use it to his advantage. It was a crime! She thought. While she walked out of the
Anwar and Jyotsna hid behind a guava tree twenty feet away from Mahadev’s house. Mahadev was jumping up and down running across the small front with a stick in his raised hand, shouting at invisible men. A whitewashed sign near the entrance read Mr. R K Nandi, General Manager, Franco Midland Electrical Hardware Limited.“Let’s kick him in the guts” Anwar said with gritted teeth.“No! You’ll be in more trouble” Jyotsna said and briskly walked at the gate, ignoring a perplexed Mahadev.The curtains were drawn on the windows and it was cooler inside. There was no one in the living room. A faint sound of a news reporter babbling on the radio greeted her as did the mouth-watering aroma of deep fried spices. Mahadev dashed inside and the three started to squabble.Hearing the commotion, a tall and lean woman entered the room. She wore a red printed sari with the trail end neatly tucked into her slim waist. A torrent of