by Shahaduzzaman
Translated by Shabnam Nadiya

THERE is a description in the epic Meghnad Badh of Naroki vomiting and then eating the stuff he emitted himself. Rabindranath wrote that it required no great literary talent to describe this incident and arouse disgust in the reader’s mind.
   So I suppose I can describe the story of Mamtaz without any worries. I think that this incident also possesses a similar quality of self-containment, which is capable of creating a necessary response within the mind of the reader without the touch of creative invention.
   My gratitude to Rabindranath for reassuring me. How strange, even this title is a line from a song of his. It is difficult to avoid him.
   What happened to Mamtaz?
   Mamtaz had taken a bus to her village home. Her son Shafiq was very ill. A telegram had arrived the day before. Mamtaz was gazing at the cloudy sky through the window of the bus. Her eyelashes were becoming wet again and again.
   Before all this, it is necessary to know: where does Mamtaz live, what does she do?
   She lives in one of the cave-like rooms that sit in the gaps between the towering buildings of this city. When Mamtaz comes and stands outside, the room descends to waist height. Early morning every day, Mamtaz rolls out of the cave like a small pebble into the streets of this city. She has a tiffin-carrier in her hand. She cuts through the remarks and the leers of the people around her and moves toward the bus stop. When the bus arrives, she grabs the handle of the entrance like one of those impassive circus-girls. She reaches the factory. At the factory she attaches buttons to shirts, pants and dresses all day long. Then, very late at night, in the darkness, she returns and enters her cave.
   What does Mamtaz look like?
   She’s a petite, plain-looking girl. But if examined closely, perhaps her eyes will merit special attention. The eyes, covered in thick, black, long lashes, blossom gently in the weary face. The year has made its round since she arrived in the city, but an artless wonder survives in those eyes.
   What kind of girl is Mamtaz?
   Mamtaz is the silent type. No one hears her talk very much. Her reactions can be gauged if you notice her eyes. Her black lashes merely go up and down a few times in wonderment at the strange occurrences of this unfamiliar new city. Some days perhaps the city streets becomes suddenly empty, no vehicles ply the streets. Soldiers stand armed at street corners. On those days, as she walks the long road with her tiffin-carrier in hand, as she watches the wildly burning cars here and there, Mamtaz blinks several times. When, one day, the factory next door catches fire and a few girls burn to death, Mamtaz’s eyes tremble when they venture there, or awe blooms in her eyes as she listens to the accounts of a co-worker leaving the factory and entering filmdom. But she doesn’t talk a lot.
   Has Mamtaz always been this silent?
   No, not at all. When they would go to school together, with the books barricaded against their chest, Mamtaz was the one among the other girls who talked the most. She would sit under the jackfruit tree and sing to everyone in a low voice –
   I did my hair with such desire
   The wind undoes it…
   What about Mamtaz’s household?
   Mamtaz had been married to one Maqbul. Mamtaz had finished school and, with intense concentration, begun her allotted household duties at her in-laws’. Maqbul traded fruit in the marketplace. When Mamtaz was pregnant, one day Maqbul went off to a faraway town on business. Since then there has been no news of him. Months went by, the year went by, Maqbul didn’t return. Mamtaz forgot eating, forgot sleep. But no one could say where Maqbul was, what he was doing. Strangely, Maqbul was lost from Mamtaz’s life.
   Did Maqbul start a new home somewhere else, with someone else?
   Perhaps.
   Of course, in the meantime Shafiq was born to Mamtaz?
   Yes. And since then, with Shafiq clasped to her breast, Mamtaz began an oppressed, unsupported life at her in-laws, and she forgot to sing, forgot to speak. She became silent. She wove her dreams around Shafiq in silence. All day long she would only wonder when her Shafiq would grow up. When Shafiq was a bit older, she would squeeze his cheeks as she combed his hair and alone she would tell him her dreams many times.
   So when Mamtaz got work at the garment factory it must have been a boon to her?
   Yes, she gained a new life. Mamtaz left Shafiq with her mother and came to the city when she got a job through a girl from her village. She had no curiosity to know where in the world the clothes she was making ended up. She did not know that seminars were being held on the value of her work. Every day Mamtaz had only held her breath in working towards an unchanging purpose. A bit more money and she would bring Shafiq to the city. The two of them would rent a new room. She would enroll Shafiq in a city school. When Mamtaz sat wordless in the factory sewing at her machine or when she lay silently in her cave-like room or when she silently traversed this strange city midway between the cave and the factory, then under her long lashes she was actually arranging those dreams around Shafiq in secret.
   So we know that it was this Shafiq, news of whose severe illness was brought by the telegram. What was wrong with him?
   That is exactly what Mamtaz was thinking desperately. Was her Shafiq lying unconscious from limb-shaking fever? Were his arms and legs twisted after falling off a tree? Thinking these things, Mamtaz’s long lashes became wet again and again as she stared out of the bus window at the clouded sky. There was such an ache in her chest. She felt like running there and clasping Shafiq to her bosom right then.
   Then?
   Then the bus came and waited at the jetty as usual for the ferry. But then they heard that the ferry wouldn’t run.
   Why not?
   Because the ferry workers were busy running a strike. Their meeting was going on nearby. ‘Until our demands are met…’ could be heard over the microphone.
   Then how will Mamtaz get there now?
   That is what Mamtaz was so worried about. All the other passengers had got off the bus. Making sure that the ferry was not going to run they began the journey back toward the city on a return bus. The bus was becoming empty.
   And Mamtaz?
   Mamtaz was sitting there in a daze. She couldn’t figure out what to do in this awful crisis. Only her eyelids were blinking again and again in despair.
   Did anyone come forward to help her?
   Yes, the bus driver had noticed Mamtaz for quite a while. He asked Mamtaz where she wanted to go. Mamtaz told the bus driver her troubles in detail. She asked for his advice.
   Did the driver listen to her?
   Yes, he listened to her and gave Mamtaz a good look-over. He told her that the trouble over the strike would be finished soon. They would be able to cross the ferry then. So Mamtaz should sit calmly in the bus and wait.
   Was he telling the truth?
   No, he wasn’t telling the truth.
   And then?
   Then Mamtaz went and sat in the bus. The bus was empty. Mamtaz sat alone in the seat by the window and watched the clouds as they gathered darkly in the sky. Reassured by the driver’s words, she waited in the hope of soon starting again. At one point, the bus conductor climbed in smoking a cigarette and turned on the cassette player. A Hindi song played, ‘Hai dil tujhe kasam…’
   Did the conductor say anything to Mamtaz?
   No. He just turned around and looked at her once.
   And then?
   Then it began to rain. And then, with the rain drumming overhead, four young men rushed into the bus. In the manner of a grave conspiracy they closed all the doors and windows of the bus one by one. Mamtaz looked at the young men with that candid wonder in her eyes. It seemed as if she could see that bus driver and the conductor among these young men.
   And then?
   Then those four young men pulled Mamtaz to the middle of the two rows of seats. They grabbed hold of her mouth. Outside it was raining cats and dogs. Inside, the cassette was playing a song, ‘Hai dil tujhe kasam…’ The rain ceaselessly beating against the window panes, the artist with the melodic voice, neither knew that that those four young men were gleefully raping Mamtaz one by one inside the bus.
   And Mamtaz?
   Mamtaz trembled her black eyelashes and whispered, ‘Shafiq, my baby’, only once. And then she fainted.
   And then?
   Then the rain stopped. When the weather had cleared up, someone left Mamtaz at the government hospital at the landing stage of the ferry. There Dr Yasmin, who had recently arrived at her new posting, examined Mamtaz.
   Could Mamtaz tell the doctor anything?
   No, Mamtaz had not fully regained her consciousness by then.
   What did the doctor see when she examined her?
   She saw that Mamtaz’s vagina was torn and bleeding. Congealed sperm clung to her thighs, below her navel.
   What did Dr Yasmin do then?
   She arranged for medical care for Mamtaz and wrote a report that stated that all indications of rape were clear and present. But that report floated away in the next-door gutter.
   Why?
   Because sometime later the supervising doctor of the hospital arrived and tore up Dr Yasmin’s report and threw it into the next-door gutter. He told Dr Yasmin that this was a very dangerous area. Any report had to be written very cautiously here. Because Dr Yasmin was new she didn’t know the dreadful consequences of the report that she had just written. The supervisor ordered Dr. Yasmin to write a new report and told her to write quite clearly: ‘There is no sign of recent intercourse.’
   Did Dr Yasmin write that?
   Yes. Because Dr. Yasmin wanted to live and did not want to lose her job.
   And then?
   As soon as she finished the new report, Dr. Yasmin began feeling nauseated. She left the hospital quickly and went home where she vomited all over the floor.
   And then?
   What else could happen after that? The maid servant at her house washed the floor with antiseptic. In an instant everything became clean, bright and shining. lThen the bus came and waited at the jetty as usual for the ferry. But then they heard that the ferry wouldn’t run.
   Why not?
   Because the ferry workers were busy running a strike. Their meeting was going on nearby. ‘Until our demands are met…’ could be heard over the microphone.
   Then how will Mamtaz get there now?
   That is what Mamtaz was so worried about. All the other passengers had got off the bus. Making sure that the ferry was not going to run they began the journey back toward the city on a return bus. The bus was becoming empty.
   And Mamtaz?
   Mamtaz was sitting there in a daze. She couldn’t figure out what to do in this awful crisis. Only her eyelids were blinking again and again in despair.
   Did anyone come forward to help her?
   Yes, the bus driver had noticed Mamtaz for quite a while. He asked Mamtaz where she wanted to go. Mamtaz told the bus driver her troubles in detail. She asked for his advice.
   Did the driver listen to her?
   Yes, he listened to her and gave Mamtaz a good look-over. He told her that the trouble over the strike would be finished soon. They would be able to cross the ferry then. So Mamtaz should sit calmly in the bus and wait.
   Was he telling the truth?
   No, he wasn’t telling the truth.
   And then?
   Then Mamtaz went and sat in the bus. The bus was empty. Mamtaz sat alone in the seat by the window and watched the clouds as they gathered darkly in the sky. Reassured by the driver’s words, she waited in the hope of soon starting again. At one point, the bus conductor climbed in smoking a cigarette and turned on the cassette player. A Hindi song played, ‘Hai dil tujhe kasam…’
   Did the conductor say anything to Mamtaz?
   No. He just turned around and looked at her once.
   And then?
   Then it began to rain. And then, with the rain drumming overhead, four young men rushed into the bus. In the manner of a grave conspiracy they closed all the doors and windows of the bus one by one. Mamtaz looked at the young men with that candid wonder in her eyes. It seemed as if she could see that bus driver and the conductor among these young men.
   And then?
   Then those four young men pulled Mamtaz to the middle of the two rows of seats. They grabbed hold of her mouth. Outside it was raining cats and dogs. Inside, the cassette was playing a song, ‘Hai dil tujhe kasam…’ The rain ceaselessly beating against the window panes, the artist with the melodic voice, neither knew that that those four young men were gleefully raping Mamtaz one by one inside the bus.
   And Mamtaz?
   Mamtaz trembled her black eyelashes and whispered, ‘Shafiq, my baby’, only once. And then she fainted.
   And then?
   Then the rain stopped. When the weather had cleared up, someone left Mamtaz at the government hospital at the landing stage of the ferry. There Dr Yasmin, who had recently arrived at her new posting, examined Mamtaz.
   Could Mamtaz tell the doctor anything?
   No, Mamtaz had not fully regained her consciousness by then.
   What did the doctor see when she examined her?
   She saw that Mamtaz’s vagina was torn and bleeding. Congealed sperm clung to her thighs, below her navel.
   What did Dr Yasmin do then?
   She arranged for medical care for Mamtaz and wrote a report that stated that all indications of rape were clear and present. But that report floated away in the next-door gutter.
   Why?
   Because sometime later the supervising doctor of the hospital arrived and tore up Dr Yasmin’s report and threw it into the next-door gutter. He told Dr Yasmin that this was a very dangerous area. Any report had to be written very cautiously here. Because Dr Yasmin was new she didn’t know the dreadful consequences of the report that she had just written. The supervisor ordered Dr. Yasmin to write a new report and told her to write quite clearly: ‘There is no sign of recent intercourse.’
   Did Dr Yasmin write that?
   Yes. Because Dr. Yasmin wanted to live and did not want to lose her job.
   And then?
   As soon as she finished the new report, Dr. Yasmin began feeling nauseated. She left the hospital quickly and went home where she vomited all over the floor.
   And then?
   What else could happen after that? The maid servant at her house washed the floor with antiseptic. In an instant everything became clean, bright and shining.