eFiction India eFiction India Vol.02 Issue.09 | Page 60

59

STORIES

used to come out of the house. She used to
say from inside, “Uncle, please leave now.
Why are you gossiping so much?”
The man would then get up lifting his long
bamboo pole. As soon as she went inside
the house,mother would ask Parajit, “What
was Giriya asking?”
“Nothing in particular; he was asking about
you and father and stuff.”
Mother would get scared and ask, “Did you
tell him that your father is not at home for
the last two days?”
Mother was really scared of Giriya paan.
She had the belief that Giriya paan is
coming under the pretense of begging alms
and noticing all the nooks and corners of
their house. He knew where the gold, silver
and money were kept, and when he got
an opportunity, he would come and steal
everything.
Giriya was from Parijat’s maternal uncle’s
village. That’s why her mother used to
address him as uncle. There was no fondness in that ‘uncle’ address. Rather, there
was a sense of fear and persuasion, “Uncle,
look I am your niece. We are born in the
same village. Spare my family from your
evil intentions,” Parajit’s mother would
often say.
Parijat was amused. How can a beggar be
a dacoit? If he was a thief, why would he
beg for alms at every door? When she said
this, her mother narrated the story which
sounded like a crime story.

***

In his youth Giriya was a very ferocious
dacoit. His terror was felt not only in his
village but spread to the surrounding villages. Those were the days, under British
colonial rules, when kings ruled over the
place. Kings competed with each other over

eFiction India | June 2014

both good and bad deeds. Once, the king
invited Giriya to the fort. Being a dacoit,
Giriya was scared to accept the king’s invitation and tried to hide. So the king sent messengers with gifts and presents to Giriya’s
place. Giriya was amazed. He went over to
the king and pleaded, “Please forgive me,
sire.”
The white-skinned sahibs were frequent
visitors to the king’s palace. The king took
Giriya inside and said, “Look Giriya, if you
are a true son of a paan, then show your
capability.” Giriya was restless. He could
not imagine what the king wanted him to
do. The king said, “If you can go to the fort
of Madhupur and get the clothes from the
queen’s bathroom, then you will be considered the son of a brave man. You will be
known as a true dacoit.”
Giriya boasted, “Is that so?”
True to his words, Giriya entered through
the drains into the bathroom of the queen
of Madhupur and with all cleverness, got
the queen’s clothes from her bathroom
safely tucked inside a bamboo pole. He was
aware of everything that was happening. He
kept his eyes and ears open to everything.
Even in that young age, Parijat had the
intelligence to point out to her mother,
“You give Giriya rice because you are scared
of him. When it is Giriya, you forget about
finishing rice during the monsoon season
but when it comes to giving rice to Sabita’s
mother you are always short of rice. You are
not a good person.”
Mother screamed out in her cracking voice,
“What did you say?” Afraid of being hit
by her mother; she ran out of the house
and sat on the bench placed at the roadside
stall. Parijat’s mind was revolting; her mind
was full of hatred. Who was she revolting
against? Why was there hatred?
Part III

D

ROPS OF BLOOD fell into
the toilet pan. The red blood
on the white pan was creating
amazing colours of dawn. The sight brought
back that popular story to Parijat.

***

The queen was absent-mindedly making
embroidery in the handkerchief. She was
unhappy because she did not have any children; no princesses or princes. The king was
getting older now. She was so upset about
not having any children that the thought
of it made tea