Finding the Unseen Read online

  Chapter 3

  It had been over a week since they arrived into this town of Dhaka. Political unrest notched higher, and every newspaper discussed the same topic of Ayub Khan’s dirty tactics to discourage the Awami League. They took shelter at a small lodge whilst desperately arranging for flight tickets to England. Their stay in Dhaka had been shorter than originally planned, but circumstances became such that it would not be wise to stand on these unsettled grounds. It was on that day they were returning from Dhaka airport with the success of obtaining tickets, which confirmed their departure date in four days, when Fate felt the tingling to play another game.

  The majority of survivors from the fire that night had come to this town, for it was the nearest to the village. Amongst them was that girl, who lost her parents to the unforgiving blaze. She was out in the bazaar that day, undertaking the usual chore of buying groceries when she noticed the Englishman that helped her on the night of the fire. She quickly made way towards the Englishman, filtering through the crowd in the busiest hour of the day. She was relieved to find him in the company of Jameel, who became an unanticipated interpreter to the words she wished to say to the Englishman.

  Francis was equally surprised to see the girl again. Her sudden reappearance had him forcefully recall the incident that took him the course of a whole week to forget. However, he was under a strange relief knowing that the girl had escaped the ruined village safely. Then, without quite intending, he enquired with concern how the man is, who she was with that night of the incident. Her face shrunk with an unmistakable look of sorrow on hearing the question. She was hesitant to reply, but overcame it once understanding that keeping silence would be unfair on the Englishman’s evident concerns. She owed the man great favours, for had it not been for his kind help that night then she would have lost all her family members to the fire.

  Francis soon learnt that the man was in fact the girl’s older brother and they had arrived here having encountered much difficulty. Currently, they were staying at an acquaintance’s house in this town, but her brother is working hard to arrange other independent accommodation, making daily visits to the ruined village in the hope of making some recovery of their home. When the fire had completed its course, the villagers got together and retrieved the remains of the dead. Her parents’ were amongst the count. Her brother and villagers have since buried the deceased, their funeral corresponding to the usual religious customs. She had no shame to admit either that such was the depth of their destitution that it denied them the liberty to mourn. The dead have been buried, but the living must continue to find resources to survive.

  She then went on to speak of the purpose she came to meet them. Jameel relayed the message that she still had the Englishman’s camera from that night. She saw the instant relief on the Englishman’s face, his lips unfurling into a pleased smile and his dark features relaxing from the concern he was previously under on her behalf.

  Until now, he suspected the worst for his camera’s whereabouts. He forgot that he leant it to the girl for safekeeping and believing instead it to be lost to the fires. He was impelled to accept that the last five months of effort had gone to vain. Imagine his relief when the girl offered to return his camera here. She said it would only take her ten minutes to run to her house and retrieve his belonging. Francis did not wish the girl to exhaust herself, explaining there is no rush and she may return it leisurely at the lodge they were staying once she finished her shopping. However, the girl confirmed it was no difficulty and the current time suited her best. Jameel also advised the same. There may not be another opportunity to allow the transfer, for his departure from the country is merely in four days. The go-ahead received, the girl quickly paced towards her place of abode, her slender figure wrapped carefully in a sari, expertly filtering through the busy crowd. In the meantime, Jameel and Francis took a brief refuge at a nearby tea stall, the latter already planning his next excursion once reunited with his camera.

  The girl was correct in her estimation, and returned within ten minutes. She used the drape of her sari to wipe away any dirt the ten minute journey may have encountered the camera, despite keeping it in unharmed conditions throughout its owner’s absence. He watched admiringly at the girl‘s affectionate care, almost freely allowing the delay in beholding his item. Contemplating the excitement perceivable in the Englishman’s light-grey eyes, she handed him his camera, watching in slight humour as the Englishman turned his camera in his hand admiringly. To his great relief, the equipment remained just as he had last saw it. He passed on his gratitude to the girl for undertaking the inconvenience on his behalf, followed promptly with his farewell. He found it an uneasy parting. Being a journalist, there were many questions he wanted to ask the girl, believing it will help him to construct an exciting article and ultimately please his editors. However, assessing that the girl’s grief was perhaps still too raw to converse in greater lengths about the incident, he let pass the opportunity.

  Fortunately, he kept firm on his next venture. Their stay here was short, and now in possession of his camera, he requested Jameel to take him and Jonathan to the alighted village one final time, hoping to capture some useful shots to incorporate into their latest article.

  If any ever wished to see how Hell will look once its punishing fires were extinguished then that village would have served a good indication. Ash, debris, scattered bricks, and fallen branches sealed the vast plains of the village. Some parts appeared to have been only just extinguished, evident by the trailing smoke absconding from the ashen piles littered abundantly on the grounds. He put his camera to employment, taking repeated shots of the damages. His camera lens scarcely went astray from his eyes, freely navigating the area and capturing the appropriate images when a particular face came under his view. He lowered his camera and eyes alone absorbed the picture. There, in the distance, stood that man whom he rescued from the fire that night, standing next to the very house his parents took their final breath. An elderly man was in his company. Hence, thanking his fortunes to be met with the girl’s brother, Francis took the opportunity to ask questions his civility denied him asking the girl, thinking men are stronger hearted than women in overcoming a loss. But when he reached the intended address, the brother, unknown to his approach, walked off into another direction having been called by someone else. The old man however kept firm in his position before the ruined house. Seeing the brother occupied in conversation with someone else, Francis decided to ask the elderly man questions, believing he too was a victim of this ruin. Jameel followed the Englishman, and on reaching the elderly man, he translated the questions, to which Francis sought the answers. The elderly man looked rather pleased that he should interview him, seeking the clarification whether an English newspaper will really printed his picture. Learning the answers were to his favour, he responded to each question without hesitation. ‘He is not from this village,’ Jameel translated from Bengali to English. ‘He is the landlord of the place that man,’ he nods towards the girl’s brother, ’and his sister are accommodating.’

  Francis then enquired if he came to see the extent of damage caused by the fire.

  ‘Yes, and no,’ Jameel translated once again. ‘He came to see the damage to calculate an estimation of the cost of recovery. He will pay to reconstruct this house.’

  ‘That is very kind of you,’ Francis thanked. ‘Is it only this house or are you offering to help a few others too?’

  The elderly gave a chuckle here before replying. Francis too smiled, believing the man’s answer comprised of a gentle humour, but Jameel’s silence and evident shock had him consider otherwise. Eager to learn what the man’s reply was and admittedly growing irritated at Jameel’s silence, he insisted Jameel to share the answer. ‘He said,’ Jameel says, little recovered from his shock, ‘why would he help the others - it’s not as if he is marrying into their family. His interest lies specifically with this house because that man agreed to give his sister’s hand in marriage to h
im. He will be getting married to that girl - that is why he paid for their parent’s funeral too. They had no money to their name after the fire ruined their home, and so he offered to help them. But banks only give loan under some security and investors only put their money on assets that gives them the hope of a healthy return. So seeing his sister unmarried, and himself being a widow, he said he would not ask for repayment, but only if his marriage to the girl can commence. The brother agreed immediately, for after all he is doing the brother a generous favour by disburdening him of an unmarried sister. ‘Times are not that good,’ the old man added, ‘that man should wander around with a beautiful and unmarried girl beside him.’

  That night Francis could not sleep. Why should he care what happens to the girl? Why is his sleep suffering for the girl’s sake? It is someone else’s life and his concern should remain primarily with his profession. The reasons, however sensible, were equally unacceptable.

  An unsettling feeling had detained him, which the cooling night could not douse either. Unable to cope with his distresses, Francis rose up from his bed, and began pacing restlessly the length of his room. He was quite familiar with concept of a young girl marrying a man old enough to be her father. The conduct was commonplace in a country such as this. However, his acquaintance with the girl, made it difficult for him to accept the occurrence of such shameful marriages. His sensibility advised him to keep his affairs strictly concerned with his business, but his impulsive side had him give this matter more thought than necessary. Yet, what could he do? The girl’s brother had already given the old man his word. Marriage with the scheming old man was a confirmed deal. But it was the innocent girl who was repaying the debt with her life and happiness. It will not be fair on her prospects.

  No longer quarrelling with why he assigned this level of interest to the girl’s welfare, Francis had formed a stout determination. He wanted to hear the girl’s opinions on this alliance too. Perhaps believing that marriage will bring some relief to their impoverishment, the girl found no reason to object. Perhaps she had no inkling at all about her marriage. Thus, the night somehow passed, with sleep barely touching his lids. The next morning, while Jonathan took the remaining tour of the town, he instructed Jameel to meet him at the lodge to discuss an important matter. He wanted to learn of the girl’s whereabouts. Just once, he wanted to meet the girl and clear his confusion, promising himself that if the girl was fully content with this marriage then he will no longer interfere. His concern for the girl’s welfare had astonished Jameel, who refuted his unnecessary interference. But the journalist seemed almost possessed with the idea, adding that if he shan’t help then he shall employ other tactics. Worried that the journalist may take some thoughtless action that could accost him into unnecessary troubles, Jameel was compelled to offer his help. They quickly plotted a design to enable the Englishman to meet the girl discreetly, for it was not common custom in this country for men and women to converse openly under the witness of onlookers. With some difficulty, Jameel obtained the girl’s address and with more bravery, Jameel and Francis entered their footing into it. It was a large building with numerous rooms owned by the old landlord whom the girl was to marry soon. The old landlord had an astute memory that men of his age commonly had difficulty retaining. Thus, remembered clearly the face of the Englishman, initially believing he may have returned for a further interview. Jameel explained the situation to the landlord, stating that the journalist had lost his room from his current lodgings due to a dispute with the owner, therefore required temporary accommodation here until their flight date, which is in three days’ time. But the old man was a businessman after all, calculating quickly what income he can make of this Englishman in these few days. It was only on the offer of a double fare that the scheming landlord agreed to let him a room.

  There was scarce time in his favour and so Francis set to work immediately the next day. He kept careful observation of everyone’s whereabouts. Enlisting the help of Jameel once again, a small-scale but impressive, surveillance unit was set up. Children of those families who were also staying under the landlord‘s kindness, were told to inform either Jameel or the resident at number twelve, of Naris’s whereabouts. That was her name. If any child should deceive their trust then he should revoke the small fee, for which they undertake this employment. Here, it became apparent that money was not only a universal language but its effect was equal on both the calculating mind and the innocent ones too.