It happened at the beginning of another dream. Somebody shook me violently to wake me up. I felt someone’s hands fall heavily on my neck and chest. At first I felt it was all part of the dream. At the end of disturbed sleep, I would often see nightmares like this. There have been days on which I had seen even death in my dreams. At long last, it is only when I free myself from sleep, waking up from dreams, sweating all over and tongue-tied, that I assure myself that I haven’t died yet.
That was just a dream…
I had to let go of the recollections of my dream as I increasingly came under the tightening grip of some rough hands on me. I did not take long to grasp that some people have clasped me.
I made up my mind to open my eyes. Some people had already entered my room. It does not matter who they are; but why have they come to disturb me in this sleep of mine? It was quite late when I had gone to bed. They could have waited in the verandah until I woke up. But when I woke up it was not that that startled me. The room in which I lay was unfamiliar to me. The bed on which I lay, the furniture in the room, lamp shades, everything………everything was strange to me. For it was not in the room in which I had gone to bed that I was now. More than that, my mind was disturbed over their presence in a totally uncanny atmosphere.
There were four of them. They were hefty men with hideous looks. The tall and equally rotund fellows wore red strings around their necks which were ominous of something. Their eyes shone with triumph. When they knew for sure that I had woken up, they loosened their grip on me and stood at a distance from me.
My mind even at that moment was mulling over puzzling thoughts. It was neither my imprisonment under the watchful eyes of four men nor my uncertain future that puzzled me. The puzzling question was how I came into this room. I clearly remember going to bed at night. After reading all the publications of the day as usual, I was going to bed without waiting for my friend to return from his night shift. I switched off the light and pulled down the mosquito net when I suddenly remembered her photograph that had come by post that day. The photo of the girl whom I was going to marry was kept in my diary. It was after I had repeatedly asked her for it that she had sent it. When it occurred to me that one more look at it was necessary for me to wrap up the day, I rose up and switched on the light.
When I looked at the photo, I naturally felt like moving forward to plant a kiss on her beautiful eyes. But I immediately withdrew from it as I felt that it would be so cheap an expression of love.
Pulling down the mosquito net, I lay waiting for sleep to come over me. I just have a recollection of lying all covered up with blanket in the comforting coldness of the night.
It was the beginning of the dream just then…
Right now here.
Imagine waking up in a totally strange and frightening atmosphere somewhere else.
It was quite mysterious how I happened to be here. I don’t even have a streak of memory of my coming into this room before even once. The walls were decorated beautifully. On the top of the cupboard overlaid with sunmica was a painting done in bright hues. Curtains made of thick handloom cloth were hanging from the windows. It occurred to me that a mind imbued with an aesthetic sense must have been at work decking up the room like that. Even the drawing room of the house of Pradeep, the richest of my friends, is not this attractive.
Whose shall be this room…..?
I don’t remember seeing such a room even once in my life. As I kept mentally surveying the room, I again became aware of the condition I was in. How I happened to come into it still remained inscrutable. I tried to get up. A booming voice was heard just then:
‘Don’t get up…….’ The voice was that of the shortest man among the four. I had forgotten for the time being that four men were standing there. It was clear from their movements that they considered it their duty to protect the rare visitor that I was. It was with curiosity that they watched me scratching my back with my left hand.
I asked:
‘Why can’t I get up?’
‘It can be permitted only if ordered so from above….’
Just then, it occurred to me that this was not a dream as I had thought, and it was not at all as simple as that. Somehow I have been locked up in a prison. I don’t know why I have been condemned to this cell and when I will be freed from here. However, I must take care that I do not lose my self-confidence. Posing as a mild-mannered man, and at the same time in a confident voice, I said to them:
‘Friends, why are you wasting time standing like this in the small hours of the day….? Come, sit down…sit down…there is ample space here..? We can talk after you have sat down; you know, I cannot run away from here even if I want to. As I do not know how I came here, I also do not know how to leave. Let me ask you: Why are you keeping an eye on me…?’
None of them responded for a while even after I had ended my speech. Nor any expression of emotion appeared on their faces. The youngest among them, it appeared, did not like my conciliatory remarks. He responded unflinchingly:
‘Chums, you shouldn’t be taken in by his fawning postures. Under no circumstance should you forget the orders given from above. These people are clever pretenders. Besides, it seems that this man is an ace swindler…’
The rest of the three looked at one another as though agreeing with his opinion. Then, they looked at me, bewildered, as if to say they were quite aware of my pretensions. My mind quivered. The first ploy I tried had fizzled out. They appeared so determined that they would not fall for reconciliation. In a sense, it was pointless for me to grow weak before them, for it was on the editorial board of a reputed newspaper that I was working. If they happened to know that I was in danger, they might take every step to save me. But the only thing that confused me even then was how I happened to be locked up here. It was at another place that I went to bed. But it was at yet another totally unknown place that I woke up from sleep. It covered me up as if in a riddle.
A metamorphosis of this sort! As I was thinking about the genesis, progress and the end of it happening at an unexpected and inopportune moment, I became more conscious of the condition I was in. Time was flitting past. And there were umpteen numbers of knots for me to untie.
I lay on my back in the bed with my hands crossed over my chest and tried to gently smile at them. Then, I started speaking:
‘Friends, I’m extremely sorry to have met you first in such a condition. But still, it should not worry you that we get to know each other.’
I have in all my life not spoken so gently to anybody else. My voice was softer than I had expected it to be. But, what of it? The experience I had was just the opposite of what I had hoped to have.
The second man, who had remained silent till then, came forward:
‘This man is not only a big thief but also a clever pretender.’
The rest of them also repeated those words as though echoing the second man’s thoughts. I could not stand firm before their reverberating words despite my being the protagonist and witness in an incident which had taken place in the world for the first time.
‘Friends, I am neither a thief nor a pretender as you think; I myself feel it quite amazing that how I, by some quirk of chance, happened to be locked up here. Yesterday, I had gone to bed in my room as usual.’
‘Stop…’
The first man’s voice fell like a sword over my words. My helplessness was enveloping me like a swarm of tiny, biting ants.
As had been warned from above you are trying to blow us out of our wits. They had already forewarned us that once you are locked up here, you would try to mollify and pull us towards you.
‘Look here, you pretending big thief, don’t think that we would be mollified by your clever moves. That …’
One of them waxed more eloquent. The significance of the moral lesson that I had learnt about the importance of falling silent before ignorance metamorphosed into a meteor in front of me. And right above the bent spine was the burden of helplessness hanging on the wings of darkness. The moment that it fell down, there was thin darkness on either side of the railway bridge. The river below was covered with gigantic rings of whirlpools swirling in moonlight that came late. Spiked stumps of trees protruded out of the river expanse.
I don’t want to cross this bridge any more. I don’t want to move any further. I stood in the middle, sweating.
Someone from the other end of the bridge warned:
‘If there is anybody on the bridge, cross it immediately…the train is coming….’
There were only sounds in the darkness.
Suddenly, meteors were seen shooting down over the skylines.
The rail tracks were shaking. They went on shaking. Afterwards, it lingered as a dream all the while.
And now this helplessness.
‘Look, that guy is exploring ways to trap us…see how he sits brooding…?’
‘Let’s sing here the anthem of exasperation.’
I desired to utter those words as if inspired by the wisdom of a philosopher. But, what I said was something else.
‘By mentioning about orders from above, whom did you actually mean…?’
‘You need only to know that they were from above…it seems you won’t be satisfied until you have known everything inside out…?’
‘What do you intend to do to me?’
‘We’ll do as we are instructed from above.’
‘Can I contact them?’
‘That’s just your illusion.’
Just then it dawned on me that a single word can bring about a sea of emotional change in an individual. And behind a futile expectation, I have become a beggar begging for gold coins. Within the limits of helplessness, someone kept cooing.
I am left alone.
As the room in which I lay awake and the way through which I was pushed into it remain mysterious, each and every motion around me also remains unknown.
They are stepping to the rhythms of someone.
The third man among them was a bit more lenient. I said to him:
‘I think you are waiting for someone else. Mine is a case of mistaken identity.’
‘I’m a journalist. Up till the moment I haven’t done anything out of the way, nor have I fallen for gifts and temptations. I haven’t surrendered my self-respect to anybody either…..’
‘Yes, yes. It’s just a person like you that we want. The person marked out from above is none but you. There’s no change in it.’
It was like adding emphasis to a footnote that he ended the last sentence. There is no way out other than confronting the next move, whatever it is. How long should I continue to lie like this? I wish I could send word about my situation to one of my friends. When it becomes clear to them that I have gone missing, they will start searching for me. However, they will never have known that it is this bizarre metamorphosis that has come over me.
Outside, a new day was beginning. On the glass panel of window appeared the red claws of a morning bird. From the road below was heard the sound of a bullock cart grinding past. Then, the whip of the cart-driver, who hadn’t slept a wink the past night, swishing through the air, was also heard. It was as thin as the coldness of the morning mist.
The four of them are waiting for instructions from above.
The room was being flooded with light. It was an indication that the moment for meeting with the danger was fast approaching.
At last I had to take a decision. I had, in fact, made up my mind that I would not, come what may, think along those lines. But I had to choose the path as I had no other way to subjugate them. They will surrender to my design. Otherwise it will mean my own surrender and defeat.
When I was calling the four of them toward me, my body was shivering all over. What I am doing is wrong. All the same, this wrong is likely to be made right by so many rights. I kept away and watched them after I have poured the molten mantra of a remedy into their ears. I could discern the shadows of leniency appearing on their bodies.
My mind said: ‘I have won.’
The first man asked: ‘Where is your house?’
I gave the first man the name of the house in which I stayed, the street in which it stood and the person who was to be contacted etc. in the clearest possible terms. When he had gone, I felt like laughing, looking at the light of the day seen through the glass partition.
Look, I am going to be freed.
After the first man had gone, I tried to speak with the others. But whenever I tried they would confine their reply to one or two words.
It must be when the first man reaches there that my friend would come to know of my disappearance. The shocking news would fill him with despondency and anxiety. Then he would step out looking for me.
I began to examine the room minutely once again. It was my duty to be in the know of things in the room before vacating it, wasn’t it?
Just then the sound of someone coming up the staircase was heard. The first man must be coming.
They said:
‘Here, he comes…’
My mind throbbed. He must be coming with the all-time remedy for my escape. When I tried to stand on my feet, the three men together prevented me.
‘No no…it has not been allowed from above.’
I was not disappointed despite the disheartening words. Soon they will find it impossible to control my movements. I will subject myself to their control till then.
Pushing the door open with force, the first man jumped into the room.
‘Lie. All that he said was lie. I spoke with your friend. He told me that no such person working on their paper has gone missing.’
‘Did you see me there?’
There was no need for inquiring into it. This is what your bosom friend says: ‘You are sleeping comfortably inside the mosquito net. Waking you up from sleep would be quite disturbing.’ When I tried to further ask him about you, your friend got angry. He asked me to get out without disturbing those who are fast asleep.
I felt sad. The strength of my life has been my self-confidence. I was losing it. This danger is what the deep love of my friend has gifted me. If only he had looked into the mosquito net and made sure that I was not there…
‘Have you got any instructions from above,’ the first man asked. ‘No, nothing up till the moment…’
‘It might come some time today. Or else, tomorrow-’
‘In certain cases it might take a week and a half.’
I grew anxious. Why was I sentenced to imprisonment whose term is uncertain? I enquired.
‘Will I have to languish here like this until proper instructions are received?’
“You may have to, perhaps.’
‘Who’s there to help me out?’
‘As per the promise made earlier, three persons remain.’
The only way open to me now is to let my office know of my helplessness. Once they learn that I have disappeared somewhere, they most likely will splash the news on the front page itself. Then the police will no doubt start investigating the case.
The second man quickly made his way to the newspaper’s office. After he left, I made another attempt to talk to the remaining two. However, without paying attention to me, they went about setting up a game of checkers. When it became clear that there was nothing else to catch my interest, I lay on the bed, thinking about my office. My seat must be vacant now. The teleprinters may have started tapping out news stories. There will be a follow-up on the murder story reported yesterday. What will be the lead story today? Ordinarily, I am the one who prepares the lead story.
Quite unexpectedly, a second man arrived. His appearance was as incredible as the situation I found myself in.
‘This man has deceived us again. Everything he said was a lie,’ he declared.
‘Did you see me there?’ I asked
‘No, I didn’t see you myself. But many people there did. Everyone I spoke to said, ‘Yes, he was here just now.’ Moreover, there were burning stubs of cigarettes near your seat.’
‘I don’t believe it. These stories you are fabricating are part of a scheme to endanger my life.’
He showed no interest in arguing further. Extending a scroll of paper toward me, he said, ‘Look at this. These are news stories written by that man.’
What startled me was that the handwriting was mine. This was indeed a trying experience. No one else there had handwriting similar to mine, especially since it was notoriously illegible. Yet, there was something unmistakably mine in those letters.
Still, I wasn’t ready to lose hope. Although two men remained, somehow my hope of surviving this dire situation was growing. If my fiancée hears about my plight, she will leave no stone unturned to rescue me.
As I was telling the third man about my fiancée and directing him to the office where she was working, the other three were watching over us as though planning to execute a plan however futile it could be.
As the third man left, I remembered her. I had told her that I would meet her this morning. We hadn’t decided yet where to solemnize our marriage – at the temple or in the office of registration. What we had agreed to talk about today was this. Take a firm decision and get married as soon as possible. She must have waited for me today morning. She would watch every bus coming towards the north from the bus stop just ahead of the State Bank near the lake.
What would be her response, when she sees me before ten o’clock?
I, who have never broken promises; would she know that I have been locked up in an inscrutable riddle here?
As the third man approaches her, she would be excited all over with happiness…
‘Darling, at the end of the day one day, we will get ourselves locked up in a cell…’
That was an enchanting dream – afterwards, on the shores where the distances between us would have melted away, we would pitch a tent of gossamer and wait in it.
The door was opened and shut.
The third man…
‘Have you pledged that you would never tell truth in life?’
‘No, not in this matter!’
‘But, it was a lie. I saw her. When I told her that you had gone missing, she threatened me. She asked me whether she was being blackmailed. She warned that she would hand me over to police.’
‘You didn’t tell her everything in detail, did you?’
‘Didn’t I tell her…? She was then telling me that it would be futile to tell her lies about a person whom she had seen at the bus stop in the morning.’
‘I would not believe that she has said so. It’s no way possible that she would say so. All these are only tales cooked up by you.’
‘I saw and spoke to her. This is just what I have to state.’
‘You are all trying to trap me. You told her lies on purpose…’
‘No, no, clever, intelligent chap…’
When I heard those words, I just had nothing to say by way of response. I truly felt that he had seen her; because his use of the phrases ‘clever, intelligent chap…my golden pearl of a boy…’ etc. were the ones with which she would address me when we were alone.
Windows and doors were shut. There was not even a hole that remained open before me. Afterwards, I never bothered to think about the fourth man. All my hopes have been blown out. Suddenly I felt something strange. A tail has grown at my back.
A tiny tail; now I know what I am to do…!

Also, Read The Virgin’s Tears by Jean Frémon, Translated from The French by John Taylor and published in The Antonym

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