The Collected Short Stories by Satyajit Ray

Author:Satyajit Ray
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789352140817
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2015-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

11

The next morning, the news of a tragic railway accident in Satragachhi covered most of the front page in every newspaper. As a result, most people read only that particular report, thereby failing to notice the advertisement that was printed on the last page. Those whose eyes did fall on it had to admit that the reward offered by Saradindu Sanyal to find his missing son was truly handsome, totally in keeping with his status in society. Five thousand rupees was a lot of money.

Upen Babu did not see the advertisement; nor, as it happened, did Harun, although usually he did glance through the paper every morning when he went to the local restaurant for his first cup of tea. This morning, he was not in the mood to pore over a newspaper. Besides, he was in a hurry. He rose at five-thirty, had a quick cup of tea, and arrived at Upen Babu’s shop at seven o’clock, to meet Fotik. Perhaps it was not quite right to call him Fotik any more. But Harun could not possibly think of him as Nikhil, or Bablu, or even Sanyal. For him, he had only one name: Fotikchandra Pal.

‘You want to take Fotik somewhere, so early in the morning? Where are you going to take him?’ Upen Babu asked, not unreasonably.

‘We have to go to Loudon Street. I’ll explain when I get back,’ Harun said hurriedly. Upen Babu knew Harun did strange things sometimes. But he was a good man, so he said nothing more. He looked at Keshto’s son, Shotu, who had just woken up and was stretching lazily. ‘Come on!’ Upen Babu said to him. ‘Stop thrashing your arms about. Go and wash your face—there’s work to be done.’

Saradindu Sanyal said to his clerk, Rajani Babu, ‘Look at the way they’ve printed Bablu’s photo. I can’t recognize my own son! It was such a good photo, too. The quality of printing in our newspapers has become much worse, I have to say. Each is as bad as the other.’

‘Have you seen this one, sir?’ Rajani Babu offered his boss an English daily. ‘The picture is far more clear in this one.’

There was a pile of newspapers in front of Mr Sanyal. Rajani Babu had been instructed to buy every newspaper that carried Bablu’s photo. Normally, Rajani Babu arrived at eight-thirty. Today, he was here much earlier than that, in order to help his boss deal with extra visitors. It was Saradindu Sanyal’s belief that as soon as people read about the reward being offered, they would storm his house with young boys in tow, claiming to have found Bablu. So he had asked Rajani Babu and his junior, Tapan Sarkar, to join forces with Preetin and their bearer, Kishorilal. They needed all the help they could get to make sure that the whole thing did not get out of control. But Mr Sarkar had not yet turned up, and Preetin was still asleep. He had stayed up late to study for his exams.

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