The Final Question by Saratchandra Chattopadhyay

Author:Saratchandra Chattopadhyay [Chattopadhyay, Saratchandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780143067788
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2010-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

17

KAMAL LOOKED ROUND AND WAS DUMBFOUNDED. THE ROOM was in an utter mess. It hardly seemed possible that someone could live in it. On hearing their voices, a Hindustani lad of sixteen or seventeen appeared. ‘This is Shibnath Babu’s servant,’ said Rajen. ‘He does everything from preparing his food to giving him his medicines. It seems he’s been sleeping since sundown and has just woken up. If you have any instructions about the patient, he’s the person to tell. I think he’ll be able to follow them; he’s no fool. I heard his name yesterday but can’t remember it. What’s your name, boy?’

‘Phagua.’

‘Did you give him his medicines today?’

The boy raised two fingers of his left hand and replied in Hindi, ‘I’ve given two doses.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Yes, some milk.’

‘Well done. Did any of the Punjabi babus upstairs come to see him?’

The boy thought for a while and said, ‘I think one of them came at midday.’

‘You think! Why, what were you doing then? Sleeping?’

‘Phagua, do you have a broom here?’ asked Kamal. Phagua nodded and went to fetch it. Rajen said, ‘What will you do with a broom? Thrash him with it?’

Kamal gravely said, ‘Is this a time for jokes? Have you no pity or compassion?’

‘I used to. But I lost that while working for flood and famine relief.’

Phagua returned with the broom. Rajen said, ‘I’m dying of hunger. Let me go somewhere and get something to eat. Meanwhile do whatever you like with the broom and this boy. I’ll come back to take you home. Don’t worry—I’ll return within a couple of hours.’ He left without waiting for a reply.

The locality, at the farthest end of the town, soon fell desolate and silent. The clamour and footsteps of the tenants upstairs also stopped: they had obviously gone to bed. No one came to ask after Shibnath. The night outside grew darker. Phagua was nodding off on a blanket on the floor: it was time to lock the front door, when there was the sound of a bicycle bell. The next moment Rajen pushed the door open and came in. Looking around, he took in the complete change the room had undergone in that short while, and stood mute for some time. Then, laying the small bundle he was carrying on a side table, he said, ‘You’re not like other women. One can rely on you.’

Kamal silently turned and looked at him. Rajen said, ‘You’ve even managed to make the bed. You might have found a fresh sheet somewhere, but how did you move him?’

Kamal softly replied, ‘It’s not difficult if you know how.’

‘But how did you get to know? I wouldn’t have expected you to.’

Kamal said, ‘Is it your monopoly to know about things? I’ve nursed many patients at the tea garden in my youth.’

‘I see.’ Rajen again looked round and said, ‘Here’s some food. Wasn’t there some water in the pitcher? Help yourself. I’ll wait.’

Kamal looked at him, smiled and said, ‘I didn’t ask you to get anything for me.

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