‘Haven’t you heard anything? So many things have happened here!’
Maruf’s mind was in knots as he listened to Farid. He was at a loss to understand anything. It took him quite a long while to untie the Gordian knot. He was stunned after hearing everything. Could something like this really happen? Maruf knew about the secret relationship that had developed between Maulana Tahirul and Riziya. He had thought that this would have reached its natural outcome. But how did Suman suddenly come into the picture? And for that matter, how had Riziya come under Suman’s influence in just a few days and turned anti-religious? Maruf sat in silence pondering over the matter. There was a problem somewhere. There was something else going on. The calculus was not an easy one, it was complex. He said to Farid, ‘Is the writing on the wall still there?’
‘No, it’s been wiped out.’
‘Damn!’
‘But the police have taken photographs. Why did you ask about that?’
‘It’s important. Will you come with me to the police station, Farid? Do you know which officer is handling the case? I need to see those photographs. It’s very important.’
‘I need to find Riziya and Suman by any means, Maruf Bhai. Unless I find Riziya, I can’t prove that I’m innocent.’
‘So come with me to the police station.’
‘Right now? You’ve just come back. It’s ten o’clock at night.’
‘Just now. In any case, I’m not going to be able to sleep today. Come, Farid, let’s go.’
Maruf spotted Suman’s brother, Abhijit, on the street the following day. Maruf called out to him, ‘Hey Abhi, listen.’
Abhijit hesitantly came and stood before Maruf. He asked him in astonishment, ‘Tell me, Maruf Da, where were you all these days? I couldn’t recognize you at first because you’ve grown a beard.’
‘I was away for a month and a half. And as soon as I returned, I heard about all the shocking things. Can you please come to my house tonight? I need to talk to you.’
‘Sure, I’ll come.’
Abhijit made to leave after saying that, but then stopped. He came closer and said, ‘Maruf Da, if I knew you were back, I myself would have come to meet you.’
As a matter of fact, the narrative regarding the relationship had changed a bit. The two communities no longer discussed the matter of Suman and Riziya’s elopement openly. But a suppressed curiosity remained. Although a lot of pressure had been brought to bear on the people of Jogipara for a month, and no one seemed to have any inkling of their whereabouts, nonetheless, eventually, the murky silt settled down and became placid. The clearer the water became, the cleaner it got. The people of Sadnahati continued their life routines. They went back to their respective circles. But the relationship had created distrust. There was an invisible fissure now. No one could speak their mind to anybody. Abhijit was Suman’s own brother. He had known Maruf ever since his childhood, as his elder brother’s friend. It was only to Maruf that he could say what he wanted to, tell him about the terror he was living in.
He could tell him how ill his Ma had been ever since the incident, explain that his brother was simply not the kind of person to do something wrong, and even if he did, the people of Jogipara were not to be blamed for that.
Maruf had fallen into deep thought after returning from the police station yesterday. Why had a girl like Riziya forsaken the Muslim community and left? Why had Maulana Tahirul resigned from the post of Imam before that? And the secret union between Riziya and Suman seemed to have taken place as soon as Tahirul left, and they had departed the village together! It was a lot to digest. But one thing was clear. The objectionable writing on the wall of the mosque was not Riziya’s handiwork; not Suman’s either. Who did it then? Who had written all that? What interest might the person have in Suman and Riziya’s departure? After all, it was clear that his intentions were ignoble. Maruf still had Riziya’s notebook with him. It had been on Amina’s bookshelf. Maruf had examined the photograph in the police station closely. Although the officer there had refused to give him a copy, nonetheless, Maruf was certain that the handwriting was not Riziya’s. He had asked Abhijit to meet him today. He would get all the details from him.
‘May I come in, Maruf Da?’
‘Come. Sit down. Sit on the sofa.’
‘I had come to your house last when I was a little boy. But you people have become even more wealthy now!’
Maruf laughed. ‘Have we really been able to become wealthy? Does one become wealthy merely by having money, silly! You need to be broad-minded for that. When someone is narrow-minded, they remain poor even if they have lakhs and lakhs of rupees!’
Just that bit of talk by Maruf seemed to overwhelm Abhijit. Suddenly, he lowered his head, and then, began to sob. Maruf came up to him, patted him on his back and said, ‘You silly boy! Why are you crying?’
‘I can’t help thinking about Dada when I sit in front of you, Maruf Da. I don’t know how things turned this way so quickly. All the youngsters in Jogipara used to be proud of Dada. But just see what a terrible thing he did!’
‘Did you sense any love between them?’
‘No. Never.’
‘Did he take anything besides money?’
‘The money was with him. But Dada was forgetful. All his certificates and identity papers were in a file. He forgot to take those in his hurry.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, Maruf Da. And Rafiq Ali Sheikh came and demanded those important papers. They are all with him.’
‘Oh! That’s wrong. Rafiq Bhai has no right to take away Suman’s things.’
‘What could I say? After all, they are the ones in power now.’
‘Can you tell me something? That is if you trust me. Do you people really not know where they are?’
‘I don’t know. No one knows. But we didn’t try to find out either. To tell the truth, the boys in Jogipara are inwardly happy.’
Maruf turned grave and said, ‘Hmm. And what about you?’
For a while, both of them were silent. And then Maruf spoke again. ‘I need to meet them personally, Abhi. I don’t want to create any problems, on anyone’s behalf. I only need to find out certain things. Is there any way of making contact?’
‘Maruf Da, perhaps you don’t believe that we don’t know his whereabouts. I swear on Ma Kali, we really don’t know where they are! If I did know, I would have taken my grieving Ma to meet him. I don’t think she will survive! She’s weeping all day and night.’
‘So you don’t know? All right, do let me know when you find out. You can leave now, Abhi.’
