It is a beautiful place, a place which seems straight out of Sultan's painting, a village on the char of Jamuna. Borhanuddin arrived here 45 years ago. People asked, "Why here? So close to the river bed?" Borhanuddin said, "Nothing will happen to my land, God willing" After all, this side of the river doesn't face that much erosion. There was also another reason, the land was dirt cheap, and it attracted thirsty peasants from all over North Bengal. And there started his life, and the life after his, on an isolated char curved out of Jamuna.
Afzal inherited the 5 bigha land from his father, Borhanuddin. He grew rice on most of it, Potato, Radish, and cauliflower were spread around the land. The house was on the eastern side of the land, and the beautiful house made from mud had been decorated with Chalta. This year, Afzal had a good harvest of Aman, and with the coming harvest of Boro, Afzal felt extra jubilant. After all, her younger daughter Runa was coming of age. She was 16. The son of the local union member was of particular interest to him. He decided, if the Boro harvest is satisfactory, he would ask the member for his son's hand in marriage. Afzal feels he has enough to pay a hefty dowry.
Runa, naturally, knew nothing of her father's exhaustive plans. She left school at class 8 as her mother always said, her daughter's responsibility is in the household, not outside. Runa never made any demands, she was always a quiet observer. Afzal also never explicitly asked if she needs anything like he would ask his sons. Daughters are there to be married off of course. However, her eyes did gaze, and they gazed quite graciously on Karim, the farm hand who is brought to the field by Afzal during every harvest. Karim also took notice, and a few talks later, Runa thought they were in love.
"Your father cannot and mustn't know", was the pact in this relationship. "We will speak to him when the time is right" After all Karim thought, they were still young and if they ask Afzal at the right time, he might just agree.
This year was a peculiar year. Aman had blessed Afzal's pockets but come March there was no rain. It started to get hotter and hotter. The fields started to crack. Dust engulfed the fields. Boro needs water, and Afzal had to spend a handful of Aman money to get the motors running. The learned people of the area started speaking about this being the hottest year in decades and whatnot. If this continues, the Boro harvest will be ruined, after all, how long can the motors run before the pockets run out? The farmers are cornered, and when cornered people find no solace to whom do they resort? God, of course.
The mosques started holding "special prayers". They wanted rain, lots of it. Afzal attended the prayers and cried his heart out to God. "Please, God, help me, help my daughter". It is said, when God gives, he gives out with both hands! And soon, the Northwest sky grew dark. The winds grew strong, and the heavens opened. But it wasn't just water the heavens blessed Afzal with. "HAIL, get indoors!!" Afzal watched on from the window. Hail started crashing his Boro harvest. Afzal went to the field and water engulfed his eyes. Farm hands tried to console him, but consolation had to wait because the river grew extra angry soon after. They say, it was heavy rain and the damned Indians opened up Farakka. But this side of the river never erodes, Afzal learned it from his father. Borhanuddin thought this out of his own experience, but the experience cannot always answer for everything. After all, this was divine intervention.
The land, house, and everything was at risk. The potato field was eaten up by the river soon. Afzal grew speechless. Everyone tried to console him.
Runa, meanwhile, started hearing whispers, curious whispers. "The boy is perfect for you", spoke the ever interested, ever curious voices. "Which boy?" "Areh, the member's beta ofcourse." Runa understood, they aren't just whispers, but her father was indeed dead serious, and soon after the Boro harvest, she will be married off. "We must run away", Karim said. Runa had to agree. She can't spend the rest of her life in captivity. They decided on a date, and they will take the first launch of the day to Sariakandi and then straight to Dhaka. Runa was confident that her experiences in sewing Nakshi katha can land her a job at one of those big garments.
They didn't know that the boat will also be graced by the son of the Union Member that day, he was on his way to college after a vacation. Village people are curious when they find a couple hanging around. Curiosity turned to suspicion and soon questions attacked the young couple. Murubbis, sitting at the tea stall on the launch ghat, rushed inside the boat and surrounded the two miscreants. They have caught a big fish today.
Afzal was summoned to the local court. "Here, the only verdict is the verdict of God", the muazzin said. "This is adultery, and the only path to redemption is marriage. Runa and Karim must marry." Afzal's watery eyes were now dry as a monga-infested land. Pain has driven him to be stone-cold. "Also, the bride's side must pay a dowry following religious laws." "Which laws?", Afzal wanted to ask. But eyes were all around him, striking him and his daughter with their judgment, curiosity, and thirst. He knew he had to agree. "But I have no harvest, my house is on the brink of collapse." "You brought this upon yourself, it is your daughter", the Muazzin replied. "Sell your house" "But who will buy an eroding house on the banks?" A wise man spoke up, "The payment must not be instantaneous, let him take his time." The heads of the judgmental, curious, and thirsty eyes nodded.
Two years later, Afzal was taking a break after a long rickshaw ride from Ataturk Avenue to Gulshan-1. Suddenly, his old dirty button phone started ringing. It was his wife. News had come from Runa's in-law's house. Afzal thought it was about the payment. There was a delay and Afzal again promised he will make the payment within this month. The phone replied, "Runu is no more". Thunder flew through the old man's body. Shock, pain, tribulation, it was everything. She left a note. It said, "I am sorry, Abba. I can't take it anymore."
There was a calling, no the voice resonated not from the phone. Luna was asking, "Mama, jaben naki?"
(To be continued)
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