‘How is what happened three and a half thousand years ago relevant? The arrival of Islam in India was at most a thousand or twelve hundred years ago. Not more than that.’

‘I’m not talking about Islam. I’m thinking about the Vedic Aryans. Historians say that the Aryans too came to these places from outside, as victors.’

‘So? What are you trying to say, Suman?’

‘Actually, you know what, Dada, it’s not practical to think of taking over. If you must take over something, that should be people’s minds, not landmasses. That Hinduism is an ideal, needs to be upheld before the world. And that is needed even more for one’s own people, upholding that before the people of the country. Whether they are Hindu or Muslim. Chaitanya Dev could do that. He was able to draw the yavana, Haridas, towards those ideals. Wasn’t he? One needs to identify the ideals which are scarce. Do you know what I think the most prominent feature of the Hindu religion is? Its tolerance of everything. It can shelter everyone in its bosom. Can’t it?’

‘Please explain, let me hear.’

‘If you believe in one God, you are a Hindu. If you believe in the three principal gods, you are a Hindu. If you believe in three hundred and thirty million gods, you are a Hindu. Even if you don’t believe in God at all, you are still a Hindu. Jains are Hindu, Buddhists are Hindu, Sikhs are Hindu, and for that matter, even if Christians are not Hindu, it’s not a problem. The problem is only with Islam. Only the Muslims are non-Hindu. Why is that?’

‘It’s written in the Koran – wherever you find a kaffir, slay him right there – do you know that?’

‘Yes, when I first heard about this, I was shocked. But I also have the bad habit of verifying things more. I learnt about it from a friend. After going through history, what I gathered was it was only part of the statement. It was applicable to the kaffirs of that time who had violated the treaty.’

‘Islam is supposed to be a religion of peace. So how can that be? An instruction to kill?’

‘Dada, doesn’t the state issue orders to kill Maoists or terrorists now?’

‘I see you have a lot of love for Muslims. But…’

Suman laughed now. He laughed for quite a while. Sandip felt insulted by his laughter. He wondered, does Suman know who he is laughing in front of? Tamal Babu too smiled. His smile was a serene one. He knew the saying, while casting the net for fish, the water ought not to be disturbed. If he got angry at Suman because he laughed, he would probably leave. And if he left today, he would never return. Tamal Babu smilingly said, ‘You laugh? All right. Let’s hear you explain the reason for your laughter.’

‘Do you regard Muhammad as a prophet?’

‘No. He was an Arab leader. That’s the only positive thing I can say.’

‘Then why are you people so worried about the Koran and the Hadith?’

‘We are worried because under the influence of its message, thousands of madrasas are coming up. Jihadis are produced there. Doesn’t one have to think about that?’

‘Have you ever visited a madrasa? Have you ever been acquainted with a Muslim family, Dada? Have you ever involved yourself in the creations and culture of ordinary Muslim folk?’

Tamal Babu said with some embarrassment, ‘We hate them.’

‘Why?’

‘If you want the reply to your “why”, you need to devote a long time. Do you love the Hindu religion?’

‘Sure, I do. I love the ancient, tolerant Hindu religion of Vivekananda.’

Although Tamal Babu thought Suman a bit over-smart, he was taken aback by his fluency and undauntedness. Inwardly, however, he could hardly stand it. Nonetheless, he was impressed by Suman’s awareness of history. Retaining the smile on his face and looking at Sandip now, he muttered, ‘Kalapahar!’

After that, he rose and exited the room. He called out to Sandip from outside. He said something to Sandip, and then took his leave and headed out. Suman was a bit surprised. Why had there been this lack of courtesy! He could at least have said, ‘It’s all right, Suman, I’ll leave now. We’ll talk later’, or something else. Was he offended

by Suman?

They made their way back. Suman hadn’t been able to go anywhere. They walked along Kolkata’s thoroughfares. Sandip was very annoyed with Suman. He didn’t like the way Suman spoke with the man who all the members of the organization respected so much. He couldn’t help scowling and saying, ‘No, Suman. It was wrong of me to bring you here. I had gone out of my way and spoken highly about you to Tamal Da. But you couldn’t honour that.’

‘Why? What did I say, dear Dada?’

‘Why did you have to talk so much, eh? None of us ask Tamal Babu so many questions. You don’t need to know whether he is acquainted with any Muslims. Why on earth would he want to have anything to do with those mlechchha folk?’

‘That’s true. But, Dada, did I really talk too much? Did I say something wrong? But you know, I did like the man! Achchha, what does Tamal Babu do? I mean, what’s his profession?’

‘He’s a bachelor. This organization is all he does. You could say that’s his profession. You could also call it his passion. He’s away from Bengal for much of the year.’

‘I don’t think he has any family. But how does he get by? He’s not like the swamis of the Ramakrishna Mission who have renounced the world.’

‘He too has renounced the world. You don’t need to know so much, Suman. Just tell me whether you are in our organization.’

‘But he won’t accept me even if I am! He wasn’t very pleased with me, didn’t you see that? Besides, there’s an ideological difference between us.’

Sandip, who was walking beside Suman all this while, suddenly halted with a start. Looking at Suman, he said, ‘Let me come to the point. Can you take up the responsibility for the district?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ll get a small remuneration every month. You’ll receive money to run the organization. Tamal Da liked you very much. After he left the room, he told me, “Mould the boy, Sandip. He’ll do well if we give him the responsibility for the district.” Do you think you can do that?’

Suman was thoughtful for a while. Remuneration! The responsibility for the district in one go! Why had this proposal been made to him! He pondered over the matter. What was the main work of this organization? What would he have to do ultimately? He asked Sandip, ‘What will the remuneration be like? I hope it’s not an honorarium, like the unemployment dole! I’m not in it emotionally, Dada. I’ll carry out the official tasks and get paid for that.’

‘But it’s a major responsibility, Bhai! It’s about connecting with people. There are no specific tasks as such. It’s not like a regular office. And what you’ll be paid can hardly be called wages. You could call it an honorarium, which is needed to run the organization. Of course, that will cover your needs. You can do it! Tamal Da is never wrong about people.’

Suman fell silent. His father had been a schoolteacher. His identity in Sadnahati was as a teacher’s son. And Suman, too, hoped to get a similar government job. His younger brother, Abhijit, was a family man. So, after much thought, he said, ‘I’ll tell you after a few days, Dada. Let me think it over. All right?’

fifty-two

It was past noon by the time all the work in the kitchen was over. When Riziya’s Chhoto Mami sat for lunch after her bath, the azan for the Asr prayer sounded. She had missed the Zuhr prayer. This problem had come up lately. Riziya never seemed to be close by. Chhoto Mami was anxious about her. She was simply unable to understand what had happened to the girl. Meanwhile, the month of Jwilhajj had arrived. One was supposed to recite the entire Koran in memory of a deceased father. If two people divided the task of recitation between themselves, it would be completed in a month. Like it was done a year ago. Riziya had recited fifteen paras and her Chhoto Mami had recited the other fifteen. But where was that happening now! She had put back the Holy Koran after reciting merely five paras. It was only in the month of Ramzan that the recitation of the Koran went well. This year, however, even that hadn’t happened, for various reasons.

But Riziya’s Chhoto Mami had resolved to recite the Koran today. That made her think of Riziya. After studying with Maulana Tahirul, if nothing else, she had picked up the correct pronunciation. Riziya applied that pedantically on her too from time to time. She used to say, ‘Maima, in Arabic “sheen” and “seen” are pronounced differently.’ She used to enjoy that teacher-like conduct of Riziya.

The people in the family were worried about Riziya. They couldn’t figure out what her ailment was. She wasn’t saying much to anyone either. Her Chhoto Mami didn’t even feel like asking Riziya to help with some chores. After all, how long could one tolerate it if she was just lying in bed, or sitting somewhere, in a bout of depression! She had given Riziya a sermon yesterday, but Riziya had not responded to that either. That made her wonder whether this was the effect of some jinn or ghost. She had spoken to her husband many times about getting an amulet. But he had paid no heed to that.

Although Salaam Miya had said time and again, ‘It’s nothing. Just her plucky mind! She’ll get over it soon’, he too had his doubts. He had spoken to her just last night. The lively girl looked withered now. Starving and sleep-deprived. She wasn’t the Riziya of before. She seemed to be a stranger from some other house. Had Salaam Miya hurt her very badly? There were many reasons for his keenness in regard to getting her married to Raqib. But did anyone else know about those reasons? No one did. It was only Riziya’s Chhoto Mami who knew about Salaam Miya’s intentions. Although her husband was illiterate and headstrong, he was very fond of Riziya. They had taken custody of Riziya after having been childless for six years. But just two years after that, she got pregnant, and then gave birth to her son. Salaam Miya had told her, ‘The girl is a blessing for you, you know! Rizi has blessed this household. Our destiny has changed with her arrival.’

‘Of course! But Boro Bubu says, “You’re raising Rizi only for her property.” Whatever you might say, Boro Bubu is very jealous of us.’

‘Forget it. That woman is like that! After all, I’ve seen her from the very beginning! Why do you think we brothers fell apart? Wasn’t it because of Raqib’s mother?’

Riziya’s Chhoto Mami knew that Salaam Miya was adamant about not getting her married to someone from outside and sending her far away. It wasn’t just the allure of property, perhaps there was also a deep feeling of kinship. But Riziya didn’t realize that, nor did anyone else. Raqib was his vagabond nephew. Perhaps he could have been a bit disciplined too. And most importantly, Raqib’s mother’s notion could have been altered. He could have shown her that an outsider could become one’s own. It was after much consideration that Salaam Miya had stubbornly decided that Riziya would get married only to Raqib. But he had run away. Raqib was a footloose boy, there was no accounting for the number of times he had left home without telling anyone and gone off somewhere. But his disappearance was just as well. To tell the truth, Chhoto Mami was simply unable to accept this marriage. She could never stand Raqib.

As soon as she rose after reciting both the Zuhr and Asr prayers together, she spotted Salaam Miya. He needed to go out every evening. As he put on his panjabi, he asked, ‘Do I need to get something, dear?’

‘No. Are you going out now?’

‘Yes. Why do you ask?’

‘Won’t you look at the girl even once? She’s withering by the day! Not a word out of her. I can’t understand anything. Shouldn’t we call Maulana Saheb?’