Fiha Equation: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Fiha's house is huge. It looks quite similar to a fortress. The high walls are protected with barbwire. There is a signboard about 1000 yards away from the wall, which says:

Entrance of Mentalists is not desired.
I prefer serenity

-Fiha

Only Fiha can write something like this. Mentalists often venture through this road. They see the signboard. Some of them pause for a moment. But they never ask "what the logic behind a signboard like this"? The most important quality of a mentalist is his ability to control anger. They never complain and they never show annoyance over anything. Moreover, one cannot be angry with honorable Fiha. He is beyond these puny emotions. He has no headache about other peoples love and hatred.

Fiha is a lifelong loner. He stays completely alone in this huge house. He had two pet dogs sometime ago. They were hunter dogs and he really liked them. One day, late in the night, he was thinking about time dependent Irreta function. His thoughts got disrupted by the dog's barking. He got extremely annoyed and ordered the immediate disposal of the dogs. The dogs were sent away the very next day. After that, he brought a few birds. However, at one point of time, the chirping of birds seemed unbearable to him as well. So the birds were set free—now only the empty cages are remaining as a memoir of the past.

At present, there are no human beings in the house except Fiha himself. There are three Robots. All of them are worker robots. Two of them are really low in intelligence. They don't know anything other their own work. Lim's duty is to do the housekeeping and to cook the meals. Lim only does this everyday and yet he’s not a great worker. The amount of salt in the food is almost never proper; food is either too saline or salt-less. One of the other Robots works as a security guard. He keeps on walking around the home continuously; making loud thumping noise. The 3^rd robot has nothing particular to do.

This robot is of "PR" nature. His intelligence is not low like the other two robots, rather it's quite high. Fiha bought him as a helping hand. He thought the robot might be able aid him in his work. Later on he changed his mind. Now the robot's only work is to read books whilst sitting in the verandah. Fiha kind of likes this robot. He calls him "Bookworm". Sometimes he indulges in casual conversations with Bookworm, which is conflicting with his usual attitude. A big fault of these PR robots is that they cannot talk in an organized manner. They use unnecessarily long sentences. They love talking. Whenever Fiha returns home, Bookworm tries to start a lengthy conversation with him.

Today, as soon as Fiha entered through the gate, Bookworm came forward and started saying in a very monotonous tone "Sir today you have spent two hours thirty minutes and twenty seconds outside. You were out on the 9^th as well. That day you were out for one hour and forty seconds. Again on the 3^rd..."

"Shut Up", said Fiha.

Bookworm instantly stopped talking. However, that was only for a brief moment. He followed Fiha and said "Sir do you remember you came to the garden yesterday and told me that there were lots of stars in the sky? After listening to that, I decided to find out when more stars can be seen in the sky. To find that out, I studied a lot and I discovered some interesting facts..."

For the second time, Fiha said "Shut up".

He knows Bookworm won't shut up. But that's not a problem. He will now go inside his bedroom. Bookworm won't enter the bedroom. Bookworm doesn’t have access to his bedroom. However, the robot will wait for him in the dining table. If he finds Fiha, he will try to start another conversation. He decided not to give Bookworm this opportunity. He will not go out of his bedroom. He is in a very bad mood. He isn't feeling like eating as well. Whenever he meets and talks with a Mentalist, his mood worsens.

After sitting in a chair for a while, he decided to have his dinner. There's no point in torturing the body. He can as well have some small talk with Bookworm. The poor robot likes gossiping, but doesn't have a partner to do so.

Fiha entered the dining room. Instantly, Bookworm said "Can I talk, sir?"

"No".

Fiha started eating, and realized that the salt problem is still persisting. Not only is it less, the food is almost salt-less. Ironically, two days ago there were extra salt in each and every meal. Maybe it's time to replace Lim. In an annoyed tone, Fiha said "I am not being able to eat anything due to lack of salt. Can't you fix this salt problem, Lim?"

Lim remained silent. Apparently he doesn't have anything to say. Bookworm said "Can I share a small fact regarding salt?"

"No."

"I feel like ignoring your order and stating the fact, but I know that's not possible. I will only request you to allow me to share the fact."

"Okay, go on."

"Our robot Lim never makes a mistake regarding the amount of salt. The problem is yours".

"What do you mean it's my problem?"

"When you're in a good mood, you eat less salt. Again when you're in a bad mood, you crave for more salt. I've observed this for a long time, and reached this conclusion. I think your body needs more electrolytes when you are in an angry state. You can talk to a physicist if you want to. I have collected the addresses of four such specialists. Would you like to contact any of them?"

"No I don't want to speak to them".

"Why does your mood aggravate whenever you go out?"

Fiha did not reply. Bookworm asked "Do you think a lot about Mentalists?"

"No. You should stop talking now."

"If you do not feel like talking in this subject, we can talk on other subjects. Let us talk about the big bang".

" Bookworm!"

"Yes. Sir?"

"Do you need a partner for talking?"

Bookworm did not reply straightaway. Apparently he is immersed in thoughts. Fiha continued “I have just met a young girl named Nuhash. There is twenty percent chance that she will come to this house. If she comes, you’ll find a partner for talking

“Sir, I’m only interested in talking with you”

“Why?”

“I want to write a biography of you. I need a lot of information for this biography. But I don’t have much information. That why I keep on trying to talk with you so that I can get some information in between.”

“Did you get anything?”

“Yes, sir”.

“What did you get?”

“Would you like to read the few pages that I’ve written?”

“No”.

“In the biography, I’ve written that you like the word No very much. Every now and then you say No. Sometimes you say it without thinking much. It’ll be nice if you can check the introductory portion of the biography. There are many interesting information in that section. As an example, there is a surprise at the very beginning chapter. Readers will get a shock after reading the first few lines…”

“What did you write in the beginning?”

“The beginning says—honorable Fiha was brought up by a mentalist family. This family adopted Fiha from an orphanage. They took good care of him, and his childhood was entangled with their love and affection. One cannot deny the role of this family in the full blooming of this extremely talented person. At the age of 12, Fiha left the mentalist family. Later on, he never tried to communicate with his mentalist foster father and mother”.

Saying this, Bookworm paused. Fiha is sitting like a statue. Bookworm said “Did I give any wrong information, honorable Fiha?”

“No, everything is okay.”

“How is the language of the biography?”

“I don’t know anything about language.”

“I wrote the biography using different language techniques. I’ve written a few things poetically as well. As an example…”

Suddenly Fiha got up. Bookworm got up as well. Fiha said “Bookworm, try to communicate with my mentalist parents. Tell them that I want to talk to them”.

“I am sorry to say this, but that’s not possible, sir. I tried before. I wanted to take an interview of them. But mentalists living underground are inaccessible; none can contact them.”

Fiha entered his bedroom. He is feeling restless, and the intensity is increasing by the second. He knows this feeling. This is a different kind of anxiety. Will he calm himself by taking sleeping pills? No, that’s not necessary. He needs to remain restless. He is on the verge of solving the time equation. He knows his brain is working subconsciously. The subconscious mind has already received the solution; the conscious mind is yet to find it. But it will get the solution soon. Now he just needs to keep himself calm. He is now standing in front of the most important scientific inventions of all time.

The solution to time equation.

What will be the result? Will mankind be benefited? Or will it be destroyed? It can’t be told right now. There are some things that cannot be forecasted or predicted. Let’s consider the mentalists.

The true reason for creating mentalists was not successful. Human beings are now divided in to two races. At one side, there are the mentalists with incredible mental powers. On the other side, there are mental powerless normal people. These normal people are being controlled by the mentalists. They control the normal people like puppets. When they ask them to laugh, they laugh. When they order them to cry, they are obliged to cry. The mentalists are forcing these actions. They have that power. They are advancing cool headedly. Their master plan is to convert the entire mankind in to mentalists. This plan cannot be well. Nature did not want mental powered humankind. This is a fake system.

Fiha touched his communicator. He is feeling like talking to someone, and that someone should be a mentalist. It can be anyone. He decided to call Marla Lee.

Marla Lee answered the call in a very surprising tone.

“What is the matter, honorable Fiha? You, calling me at such a late hour in the night”.

“Is it really late?”

“It’s quite late. It is already 11 PM.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Not really, but I had to get up from bed. I study in bed up to late hours in the night. I am also a night person like you. Can I know what’s going on?”

“I desire to do some reading on Mentalists”.

“Oh okay”.

“Can you help me by providing some books on this matter? You must have books regarding this”.

“Yes, we have. But honorable Fiha, these books are for us. Those who are not mentalists are prohibited from reading these books”.

“I know they are prohibited, and that is why I am asking you”.

“Your subject is physics. Isn’t it good to keep your readings limited to Physics?”

“Does that mean you cannot give me books?”

“You asked, I will definitely provide you with books”.

Fiha said “Thanks. I will now turn off the communicator. Before hanging up, I’ll ask one question. What is the weakest point of the mentalist society?”.

“We don’t have any weak points”.

“You are wrong. Your weakest point is that your society has no creative person. You don’t have any scientist, poet, author or artist among yourselves…am I right?”/

“No, you’re right. But…”

“But…?”

“Not today, we can talk about this some other time. Good night, honorable Fiha. I will send you as small book on mentalists. After reading that book, you won’t feel like reading any other book. Can I send the book tomorrow morning?”

“Can you send it tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Another thing!”, said Fiha

“What?”

“If I want to get married, do I need to take permission from you?”

“You don’t have to. Are you thinking about getting marrid?”

Fiha turned the communicator off. He is angry with himself. Talking about marriage with Marla Lee was totally unnecessary.

--------------

Marla Lee got down from bed. He got dressed quickly. He took out a self-driven car from the garage. He will drive on his own—no robot controlled cars tonight. Late in the night, the streets are mostly empty. Driving a car in the night is fun.

Tonight the streets are emptier than usual. People in Science Villa Dhee 11 are frightened. Some random collisions between people and mentalists have taken place throughout the day and night. No one is out in the streets.

Marla Lee drove towards the highway. He saw stationary highway patrol cars every hear and there. Patrol police is in alerted state.

Suddenly Marla Lee noticed that the two red buttons on the dashboard are turning on and off continuously. This means there is an important news or gadget that he needs to hear. He was not feeling like listening to any important news, but as a regular practice, he turned on the speaker. There is a cautionary message from the Weather department about a devastating hurricane. The Hurricane might go through Dhee 11. As a cautionary step, electric supply in the physics laboratory has been ceased.

Marla Lee couldn’t help frowning.

Fiha Equation: Chapter 3

Fiha Equation: Chapter 3

Nuhash opened the doors.
Fiha asked, "How are you, Nuhash?"
Nuhash kept on staring at him; she looked confused and startled. Is it a dream? Is she still sleeping? Is she seeing the man in her dreams?

"I hope you can recognize me?"

Nuhash is not answering. She is holding the door and standing still.
Fiha talked on—"I was bringing a packet of coffee for you. But I threw it in the dustbin. Now I'm thinking that I should have actually brought it instead of throwing it away. Will you keep me standing at the door?"

Nuhash is still staring at him. She is trying to say something, but she's struggling for words. Fiha said "I don't really need to come inside. I came here to tell you a few important things. I'll leave after saying those. Please listen to me carefully. Before that, I need to know one thing. Are you married?"

She nodded sidewise, stating the negative.

Fiha said, "I've decided to get married. I took the decision suddenly. I don't know any young ladies. You are the only one I vaguely know. Thus I've came to you. If you like me, if you think we can get married, then please come to me. Okay, I'm leaving. Sorry for coming at an odd hour.

With a shaking voice, Nuhash said "Please stay a while".

Fiha replied "No, I won't stay now. You've torn a very favorite book of yours due to me. That was not a good thing to do. Whatever is favorite remains favorite, someone's words don't change it. I said I don't like supernatural stories, but that doesn't necessarily mean that supernatural stories have become bad. You must buy another book. Okay?"

Nuhash is smiling; a shy smile. Fiha did not notice it. He is going down by the stairs. Nuhash is still standing. Her hands are clasping the door. She is now looking like a robot; her eyelashes are not moving at all.

Fiha erased the whole incident from his mind after reaching the streets. It is of no use to think about this right now. If the girl really comes to him, then he'll see what he can do. There's no reason to think about it now, there are many other important things to be done and thought about.

Erine is still standing with his patrol car. In a very homely tone, Fiha said "Please take me to my home. I hope you're not minding my casual behavior?"

Erine smiled. He looked nice. Everyone looks nice when they smile.

"How are you, Erine?"
"I'm fine, sir."
"Do you like this job?"
"Yes I do."
"Are you married?"
"No sir. Policemen are not allowed to get married."
"Who created this rule?"
"The Mentalists"
The car is racing through the empty streets. Fiha felt drowsy. Soon he fell asleep.

Fiha Equation: Chapter 2

Fiha gazed at the sky.

The sun is not visible. Clouds have shrouded the sun. I can look at the sky. Ancient people worshipped the sun. They also worshipped the moon. Stars and planets also received such treatment. But why no one worshipped the sky? Who has more legibility to get worshipped than the sky? God should not be imagined as a confined being. Sun, Moon, Planets and Stars all are confined within their limits. Only the sky is limitless.

“Sir”

A startled Fiha diverted his eyes towards the owner of the voice.

The young man dressed in green said “Can I help you?”

“Only I can help myself. Nobody else can help me. Who are you?”

“I am a patrol police, Sir.”

“Oh okay, a patrol police. I should have known it from your green uniform.”

“Are you looking for an address?”

“I was looking at the sky. Does anyone look at the sky for searching an address?”

“You looked at the sky only a while ago. I have been following you for quite some time. I have noticed that you were reading the road numbers while advancing”.

“Why have you been following me?”

“We have orders that we should follow aimless wanderers. I followed you for the same reason. I just realized a couple of minutes ago that you are the great physicist Fiha.”

“Do you want my autograph? I can sign for you wholeheartedly!”

“Sir, did I annoy you in any way?”

“No, you didn’t annoy me”.

“I have a car with me. I can take you wherever you want to go.”

“Right now I feel like going to the skies. You car cannot fulfill that wish of mine. Where are we now?”

“Sir you have almost reached the far end of the city. If you go 200 yards farther, you will be venturing the prohibited area”.

“The area of the mentalists?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How big is the area of the mentalists?”

“I cannot say that, sir. That area is prohibited for me also.”

“How many mentalists are there in this city?”

“I don’t know. The number is never published. Right now there are ninety thousand seven hundred and eleven civilians in the city.”

“Last year the population was about hundred and twenty thousand. Why did the number decrease?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Are the mentalists monitoring the conversation between you and me?”

“Yes sir. They have direct control over policemen.”

“Is the residential area of the mentalists limited to one particular area, or is it spread throughout the city in different locations?”

“They mostly live in the underground city. No one actually knows how big and farther spread the underground city is. Previously some mentalists would live outside, but now most of them are living there.”

“What is your name?”

“Erine.”

“Erine, have you ever thought that we, as human beings, have been divided in to two sects? One group is living on the earth, and the other is living in the underground city.”

“I don’t think about these things.”

“Nobody thinks. Why nobody thinks about these things?”.

“I don’t know, sir.”

In a tired voice, Fiha said—“We are not allowed to think. Our thoughts and imaginations are controlled. Mentalists define what we will think. They decide when we should be happy. When they think we should be sad, we become sad.

“I beg your pardon sir, aren’t you thinking quite independently?”

“Yeah, I am doing that and I am surprised. Please bring your car, I will go to general residential area, room number 118. I am thinking about meeting a young girl, Nuhash.

Erine quickly strode away. Fiha is standing on the footpath of a wide street. There are very few vehicles on the road; apart from periodic zooming of large automatic trams. It’s a lifeless city. He hasn’t encountered a single child in the whole day. The childcare homes are outside the city. Children are never kept with their parents. They grow up in the childcare centers. Once a year they are allowed to spend some time with their parents.

Where do the mentalist children grow up? Where are the mentalist childcare centers situated? He doesn’t know. Fiha is feeling tired. He is also feeling cold. He doesn’t what day is today. He doesn’t even know what the date today is. He is spending his vacation. He prefers not to remember anything while on vacation. He usually spends his vacation by roaming on streets. He never felt like going outside of the city. He never wanted to see the sea, mountains, jungle or anything like that.

He is fifty years old. He spent a lot of time in this earth. Why not even for once did he feel the urge to go out of this city? Only because the mentalists didn’t want him to. He did not marry. He never felt attracted towards a young girl. He spent his life aloof. Why did he do that? Did not mentalists provoke this behavior? Not only him, no scientist involved in important scientific researches have married. If he was the only one, things could have been explained. But he is not the only one!

Mentalists are using the scientists, because they need their work. They will get what they want. The scientists are nothing but robots to them. They are puppets and the mentalists are the master of these puppets.

This is not the first time Fiha is getting surprised at how efficiently and subtly the mentalists are controlling normal human beings. Maybe he will be surprised on more occasions in the future. But this surprise is losing its charm now.

Once he faced difficulties with Gregorian analysis. He doesn’t have much knowledge in this subject. But Gregorian analysis is extremely important for solving the time equation. It will take a lot of time to master this subject from scratch. His free thinking will be affected. In this situation, he suddenly noticed in the news paper that the famous pundit of Gregorian analysis, Professor Shormone is coming from the arctic to this city for treatment purposes. He is sick. He will cure himself by coming to this city.

Didn’t the mentalists facilitate this?

They are doing everything. Everything is happening according to their plans. Is it really impossible to destroy their plan? How about doing something which he is not feeling like doing?

He doesn’t feel like leaving this city; how about leaving this city for good? He doesn’t enjoy woman company; how about marrying this Nuhash girl? How will it be? Of course, the girl needs to agree. She will not probably agree. Scientists are anything but good husbands.

Erine just brought his patrol car. In a very gentle manner, he said “Sir, sorry for the delay. We will have to go a long way, so I changed the battery cells for the car.”

“Do we need to go a long way?”

“Yes, sir. The residential area is totally opposite from where we are standing now.”

“Okay, let us start our journey.”

to be continued...

Fiha Equation: Chapter 1

Fiha Equation

Original book: Fiha Shomikoron - Humayun Ahmed

The door and the windows are all violet colored.

Violet never really attracts him. Not only him, probably the color violet doesn’t attract anyone. However, the laws states that all restaurants should be colored violet. The intensity of violet will denote what type of food is available. Thus a light violet colored restaurant will only serve drinks, whereas a dark violet restaurant could be the best place for having a full meal.

He is standing in front of a restaurant which is light violet colored. He needs hot coffee. Not synthetic coffee; original coffee. All restaurants don’t serve original coffee. Will it be available here? Almost no one drinks real coffee nowadays. After all, what is the point in spending a fortune and drinking real coffee when there is hardly any difference between the synthetic and the original? Very few individuals can actually distinguish real coffee from synthetic coffee. For this reason all restaurants don’t have real coffee.

He felt a tingling of hesitation before entering the shop. He usually avoids public places. Most people recognize him instantly. They feel uneasy, and he himself feels uneasy as well. He can guess what will happen if he enters this restaurant. People will stop talking as soon as he enters. Ten percent people will keep on gazing at him; breathlessly. Twenty percent people will give furtive glances. Others will pretend not to notice him. When the time for paying the bills will come, the restaurant owner will appear with a most respectful and delighted look. He will say “It is our great fortune and pleasure that you have decided to visit our restaurant. If you can kindly write down how did you like our coffee, our joys will know no bounds”. So even if the coffee is disgusting, he will have to write—“I enjoyed your coffee”. Next time if he ever comes this restaurant again, he will see that they have hung his comment in a wooden frame, high above the wall from where all the customers can see it easily. It is really a funny thing! He has been forced to tolerate these hilarious acts for quite some time. Many people don’t believe in Gods, but they like finding Gods among themselves.

He pushed the door and entered inside.

Instantly the humming level went down significantly. All the tables are full. Two people from a cornered table got up and joined two others in a nearby table. This means he will have to sit in this emptied table. He will also have to drink coffee alone. He approached the empty table. Before he finished sitting, a large pot of steaming coffee appeared. It is of common knowledge that sometimes he visits public restaurants for drinking coffee.

The restaurant owner himself has arrived. He bowed his head so much in respect that his chin is almost crushing his chest.

“It’s pure coffee sir! Brought from the Mediterranean.”

“Thanks”

“We will be very delighted if you can kindly write down how was the coffee. It is our ultimate good fortune that you…”

“Long speeches will not be required. I will write down my comments”

“Can we take a picture of yours, sir?”

“No. I don’t allow photographs.”

He sipped his coffee. Without even looking, he realized that ten percent people are continuously staring at him. Some of them are not even moving their eyelashes. Is there any reason to stare like that? Not that his color is changing every second. He is not a chameleon, he is a human being. Even the chameleon that changes its color every moment doesn’t get this much attention. He produced a news paper from his overcoat pocket. This is just an effort to hide himself from the crowd. He always carries a newspaper just for this purpose.

“Sir, can I sit in your table?”

He descended the news paper from his eye level. A young lady aging 22-23 years is standing. She has a book in her hand. Probably some university student. She’s a university student and yet she can’t recognize him? How surprising! He felt really annoyed. This is another funny thing. If people recognize him, he gets annoyed. And if someone doesn’t recognize him, he gets annoyed, too.

“Sir, should I sit?”

“Yes, you can sit.”

The next few actions from the girl were amateurish. She pulled the chair with a heavy noise, and sat on it with a boom. She kept looking around with a girlish curiosity.

“Sir, will the waiter come and take orders? Or I will have to go myself? Is this a self service restaurant?”

He folded the newspaper and inserted it back in to the pocket. He has a rough voice. Further hardening his voice, he said whether a restaurant is self-service or not, it can be known by looking at its color. Why are you not being able to understand?

“I am a color blind. I cannot see violet and pink”.

“Oh okay. This is a self-service restaurant. You will have to go yourself for getting food.”

The girl got up and went towards the counter. She left a few books on the table. He frowned after looking at the topmost book. It says “Collection of Supernatural Stories”. The writer’s name is Arphob. Does it make any sense? A university student reading supernatural stories! Who knows how people feel interested towards logic-less subjects like these. He has a firm belief that both people who write and people who enjoy these stories should be sent to the lunatic asylums.

The girl is back. Her face is pale, and she is kind of embarrassed. She has no food tray with her. Sitting in her chair, she said “Everything is too expensive here.” They are asking 21 Lee for a mere cup of coffee.

“Don’t you have 21 Lee?”

“Yes I do, but I am thinking whether I should spend that much for a cup of coffee”.

In a grave tone, he said, your current way of thinking shows that you are using logic. I cannot understand how a girl who uses logic could read a collection of supernatural stories.

“There is a kind of logic in these stories, too. As you haven’t read any such story in a long time, you are not being able to understand it. Sir, please take this book and read it”.

“How do you know I haven’t read this kind of books in a while?”

“You are the great Fiha. It is not possible that you will read such books.”

“You know me?”

The girl smiled and said, “Why wouldn’t I know you? Am I not a girl of this world?”

“What is your name?”

“I am Nuhash”

“Are you studying?”

“No, I am a cataloger for the university library.”

“There’s plenty of coffee in the pot. You can drink if you wish.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Nuhash was pouring coffee in a cup with utmost care. After that, she slowly started sipping the coffee. At the beginning, Fiha thought she had a normal face. But now he is thinking differently. She has the kind of face that creates affection, and this affection creates attraction. Thinking this, he frowned. What is affection? Affection is created due to certain elements. Does this girl have any such element? The girl finished her coffee, and started wiping her lips with a handkerchief.

“I’ve never had such horrible coffee in my life”

Fiha smiled. The girl is telling the truth. So there is a reason for this affection towards her—she has a charming simplicity and honesty within her. There is another thing—she is shy, but confident. Usually shy people lack confidence.

“Sir, I am leaving. Will you keep the book?”

“No. I don’t read garbage.”

“You don’t have to read. Just hold the book for a while. I will be delighted if you hold the book. Arphob is a very favorite writer of mine.”

Fiha used his roughest voice to say “I hate repeating myself. I told you once, I will not touch this piece of trash.”

All light disappeared from her face at once. Her eyes became wet instantly. It was obvious that she was deeply hurt at his rudeness. He could have been a bit less rude. As he is growing older, he is losing grip on himself. This is not good. The girl can have a favorite writer. That doesn’t necessarily mean that her favorite writer should be his favorite writer, too.

“Sir, can I go now? I am really sorry if I have bothered you.”

The girl is leaving the room. The way she is rushing, she will inevitably bump in to the door. And that is what actually happened. She hardly bumped in to the door.

Physicist Fiha wrote in big letters “I enjoyed the coffee.” He signed his name below the comment. Getting out of the restaurant, he started walking towards the commune office. He has an appointment with the commune principal Marla Lee. The appointment was at 11 AM. However, it is now 11:30. He is half an hour late. But Marla Lee will not be annoyed at this delay. He will smile sweetly instead. Marla Lee is a mentalist. Mentalist’s are never annoyed. No one ever heard that a mentalist has raised his voice or expressed that he is annoyed; in any circumstance. The one who have all the power in the world need not be annoyed.

Fiha said, I think I am a bit late.

Marla Lee smiled. The trademark smile of the mentalists. He stood up and bowed. His action was signifying pure respect and humbleness.

“I am pleased that you have come. I have prepared original coffee for you. This is not the tasteless Mediterranean coffee; this is the finest quality coffee.

“I don't feel like drinking coffee now.”

Fiha felt his mouth drying up fast. This happens whenever he meets a mentalist. The inner portion of his mouth dries up. The tongue becomes like paper. He doesn't know whether this happens only to him, or to all other non-mentalist human beings. He looked at Marla Lee with pure, deep detest and anger. The person is sitting calmly in front of him. He didn't even raise a finger, and yet he already knows that Fiha just arrived drinking coffee from the Mediterranean. Mentalists are taking out all information from his head, but he has no idea about what the mentalists are thinking. He doesn't know what's going on in Marla Lee's head right now. But Lee knows what he's thinking. They are mentalists. Nothing can be hidden from them. Using a strange method, they can retrieve any and every information from a person's brain. The process is telepathic, but Fiha doesn't actually know how it works.

Marla Lee said, Noble Fiha, are you deeply concerned about something?

You don't really need to ask me that, do you? Aren't you being able to read my mind like an open book?

Hearing this, Marla Lee smiled. Laughing he said "You are not right, Noble Fiha. We don't venture in to other peoples mind all the time. Entering someone's mind is like taking away his freedom. We believe in privacy. I can assure you that since you are here, I haven't tried retrieving anything from your head.

"You didn't try knowing anything?"

"No."

"Then why did you tell me that you have better quality coffee—not the rotten one from Mediterranean? You should not be saying this unless you've actually accessed my mind in order to know that I just had the bad tasting coffee of the Mediterranean before coming to you".

"Noble Fiha! I don't need to access your brain in order to say that. Currently the restaurants are only serving Mediterranean coffee. As a commune head, it is only natural that I will know what is available when. Do you find my explanation logical?"

Fiha remained silent, because Lee's words did seem logical to him.

While further reclining on his chair, Lee said "Let me tell you something." You know very well that mentalists can influence normal human beings. You entered my office with a lot of anger. I could easily decrease your anger by using my mental powers. Did I do that? No, I did not.

Fiha said, okay, let us drop this issue. Please tell me why I have been summoned. I don't have much time.

"You were not summoned, Noble Fiha. No one has that much audacity. I myself would go to you. However, you told us that no mentalist should venture within 1000 yards of your house. We consider your wish as our command. For this reason, we don't go to you even if we are in desperate need. We humbly request you to come to us. I hope you will forgive this minor audacity.

"I hate lengthy and unnecessarily humble sounding sentences. Please tell me what you want to say."

"I will, but before that, can I please bring coffee for you?"

"Okay"

The coffee came almost instantly. Marla Lee himself poured coffee from the pot. The coffee was of best quality, undoubtedly. The whole room got caffeinated with the nice smell. Marla Lee extended a cup towards Fiha and said "Mentalists are being the centre of hate for lots of human beings, without much reason. You are not a regular human being. You are Noble Fiha. It is said that you are the greatest of all Physicist. If you start thinking like regular human beings, what will happen?"

"Let's not talk about this. Let's get down to business."

"Let's finish the coffee first. Then we will talk business. Although the things that I'm telling you might seem pointless to you, they are actually not. At least not to me, that is. Fiha, I see today's newspaper in your coat pocket. Have you read it?"

"Yes, I did".

"In that case you must have noticed a particular news. Angry mob killed a 20 year old girl and her 4 year old daughter. Their crime—they were mentalists. Dear Fiha, there are lots of examples of mentalists getting killed by angry mobs, but you will never hear about the death a normal person caused by a mentalist."

Fiha lowered the cup, and said with a calm tone "I have finished my coffee. Now tell me why you have asked me to come".

"I've heard you have solved the four dimensional time equation?"

"From where did you hear that?"

"It will be wrong if I say I heard. Actually I am assuming this".

"On what basis?"

"Well, you have been working on this issue for quite a long time. You researched a lot on this. We know your work pattern. When you start something, you don't look at other things. When you're done with the work, you roam around happily. You visit public coffee shops, you were colorful clothes—all these signs have managed to convince me that you have solved the equation."

"If I have actually solved the equation, what is your interest?"

"I don't know much about science. But as far as I know, a lot of money is required in order to test your equation. Theory is one thing, and the engineering of the theory is another totally different thing. We want to look at the applied part of the theory. We want to assure you that money is not an issue".

"I am glad to know that. But I am sorry to inform you that I could not solve the time equation."

"You could not?"

"No I could not. You can enter my brain and check yourself, if you really want to."

"Tsk tsk. What are you saying? Your word of mouth is enough for me. Can I offer you some more coffee?"

Fiha stood up. Marla Lee came with him up to the doorway. With his sweet tone, he said "Thanks a lot for taking the pain to come over. Noble Fiha, will you accept this little gift from me?"

Marla Lee offered him a large, brown packet.

"What is in there?"

"Coffee Beans. First class coffee beans. I took a lot of trouble in order to manage this for you. I will be very happy if you accept it.

Fiha took the packet. But it didn't seem that he was too happy to get the gift. He would be really happy if he could throw this packet in to a dustbin. But that is not possible. Mentalists will know about it instantly, and the results will not be favorable.

"How about giving this to the library girl? I did offend her to some extent. She will definitely be happy to get this gift. I can also borrow the Supernatural story book from her. It wouldn't matter much if I read a story or two", thought Fiha.

Fiha communicated with the library. The communicator in his pocket instantly established communication with the library. Fiha didn't need to give his identity. His particular communicator frequency is known by all.

The director answered with a frightened voice "What is the matter, sir?"

"Nothing much. I want to talk to one of your catalogers."

"Can I know her name, please?"

Fiha frowned. He could not remember her name. He didn't try to remember her name in the first place, which is causing trouble now. He never burdens his brain by storing unimportant information.

"I can't remember her name. She's young. She likes Supernatural stories and she likes drinking coffee."

"Sir, are you looking for Nuhash?"

"Oh yes, she's the one."

"Sir, I am calling her. Please wait a minute".

He kept his communicator on. After about 80 seconds, he could hear the director's voice again.

"Sir, there is a small problem. The girl went home. She did not inform anyone before leaving. I came to know from the catalog section that for some unknown reason, she cam there with a very heavy mind. She tore a book in to pieces. It was called "Supernatural Stories Collection" by Arfob. Then she went home. Sir, am I talking too much?"

"A bit, yes."

"I beg your pardon, sir. The girl stays in the 118th room of the general residential area. I am sending someone to get her."

"That will not be required".

"The girl does not have communicator facility. If she did have it, I could have connected you with her right now. I am really, really sorry."

"No need to be sorry".

"Do you want to leave a message for her?"

"No, Thanks for your help."

Fiha turned off the communicator, and started wandering aimlessly. He walked on with long strides, but not towards home. For some reason, he is not feeling like going home. He has a synthetic fur hat on his head. The hat is hiding his face; or at least that what Fiha is thinking. "I need to throw away the coffee packet, and the dump site needs to be a trash can". Suddenly Fiha threw the packet. He has a great aim; the packet hit the bull's eye. The dustbin shaked a bit, confirming that it has gladly accepted the coffee beans.

To be continued....

The Tale of The Crows

Crows are wonderful birds. They will never run out of food to eat. Till the last human being is alive on this earth, filth will be created, and the crow needs nothing more than that for making itself a feast.

I wonder why they haven't been declared as the national bird yet. I mean, the real national bird doyel is very hard to find; especially when it comes to the capital city. Everywhere the eyes can gaze, you'll find those wonderfully black colored avian species, with a nuance of ash around their necks. Well, there are some crows whom are entirely black; you ought to call them ravens. Ravens are supposed to be a bit more aggressive and dangerous than crows.

If you have something eatable, and unprotected in front of you, it is very much likely that crows will flock in to feast. This happens more under the empty sky, and hence the need for scarecrows has arisen.

What's a scarecrow? It's a crow that scares? Not really. It's something of an effigy, which appears frightening towards the crowkind! Scarecrows can be wonderfully decorated; as seen in numerous western cartoon shows—cute little humanoids with a Halloween pumpkin as the head, and real jacket, shirt and jeans for wearing. However, underneath their dress, most scarecrows are hay-built.

The crow, despite of being a sly bird, can get frightened by the likes of these apparently silly and dumb imitations of human beings. There is another funny fact about crows, which tells us that after laying eggs, the crows close their eyes and hide them, believing that no one else has seen the hiding place. This is because when he keeps his eyes shut (actually this'll be a she), the world becomes dark, and nobody sees anything. Foolish, self-obsessed birdling...

There was this cartoon show, where a poor gentleman was struggling to fend off smart and talking grows with big beaks from his precious corn field. When I was younger (and still, too), I found the cartoon extremely funny, as the crows were working as a team and they also had a good sense of humor. When I look back at my childhood, I can see that cartoons have created a lasting impact upon me. When I saw the cartoon in context, I really got curious about corn, and I actually asked my mom to get one for me. The same thing happened after seeing Popeye...spinach became one of my favorite vegetables (and it is still on the favorites list).

Some crows were keeping the farmer busy, while others were swooping over the field and taking away mouthful of corns. There was a scarecrow over there, but he received harassment and mockery from the clever crows.

I still remember my first encounter with a raven. Before seeing the grave looking bird, I actually heard a very frightening story about my cousin being hit by the beak of a raven during a cricket match. You know how these stories affect a child's mind; since hearing the story, I had a deep fear of being hit by a raven in the head. And then the fateful day came.

I and my cousins used to hang out a lot on the rooftop of our house. There was a mini garden up there, and there were two water tanks. However, there was also ample space for playing games like football and cricket. That day, I went up early. My companions were yet to reach. Then I saw it. A fiery looking crow sitting on top of one of the water tanks. The moment I saw it, I knew something was missing. Yes, the ash complexion was missing, and all doubts were washed away, when I heard the bird crowing. The sound was distinct. It was a lot more hoarse and commanding than a regular crow's crowing. My eyes were transfixed upon the bird for quite some time. It was unusually large for a crow, and if I didn't knew what a raven was, I might as well mistake it as a vulture, or some other evil bird. When I noticed some wing movement, I ran downstairs.

You know about fear factors, right? I had a worst fear in my mind, which haunted me occasionally. The fear of being used as the crow's walking toilet was a great fear for me, and one day I thought I felt a bullet missing my ears, nearly, when a dear friend walking besides me got toileted by a flying crow.

Three of us used to walk over the long rail lines during the class break, everyday. It was a 40 minute break, a break too small to go home and have lunch, but just well enough for grabbing something to eat and having a pleasant walk by the broad road and the rail lines.

Eventually, I got attacked by the crow as well. I felt a sudden cold feeling on top of the head, only to remember that it was a bright shiny day, and there is no chance of rain drops assuming that big a size. Moreover, raindrops never had the splattering effect that my head just experienced. Without thinking, I used my left hand to examine, and with a fearful shriek, I realized the painful reality. My friends were laughing, but the lent me a helping hand by offering a tissue. I had a walk a while to reach the nearest shop, and I was more than pleased to have washed my head and hands with almost a liter of water.

That was a long time ago, and it's still my only crow-toileted experience. Back in those days, there was nothing called mineral water, and you couldn't just buy water from places. People would gladly provide water when someone asked for it, but nowadays if you go to a shop and nag about the cleanliness of the water that has been offered to you in an apparently not-clean glass, they will just ask you to get yourself a 10 TK bottle of water.

There are many stories involving clever crows. But are they really clever creatures? I don't know for sure. There are some stories about dumb crows as well. Perhaps the crow that dropped a piece of cheese whilst being prompted by a fox to sing was the dumbest of all. I mean, you don't sing when a fox asks you to do so. Why would you do that, especially when it's general knowledge that one should never trust a fox?

The story goes like this. A crow has found a piece of cheese, and right before he was going to devour it, a fox comes by. The fox was really hungry, and he devised a clever plan for snatching the cheese from the bird, in a harmless way. He said "O dear crow, how are you? It's been a while since I last heard you sing. You have the sweetest voice of all". The crow, being dumb, got flattered, and started singing. As birds have no hands, the cheese fell from his beak as soon as he started singing (well, it could've been a she as well), the piece of cheese fell. The fox snatched the cheese and walked away happily. The stupid crow was so busy singing that it didn't even notice its loss.

Crows are wonderful birds, they will stay with us as long as we exist.

No Reply

This is a story I wrote out of sudden impulse. I was sitting idle, in one fine April afternoon....didn't have much to do. suddenly the idea hit me, and within the next 2/3 hours, the story was complete. I lvoed writing it, and I think it's a good story. I sent this one to Daily Star, but they didn't publish it. Haha. to hell with the newspapers....I got the internet!

No Reply

Jack was standing in front of a shiny BMW car. It's a black car, and the glass was also black. The raindrops falling on the windshield was looking awesome.

"Damn, the wiper dude'll have a tough time wiping off the raindrops tonight".

"Hmm...can I even call the wiper a dude? Dunno..could be yes"

Okay, enough of self talking, thought Jack. He remembered, there used to be a proverb in English, that'd say raining cats and dogs. But modern English has progressed, and cats and dogs got substituted by Torrents. Does it have any resemblance with bittorrents? Who knows? Who cares? Don't be afraid of the elements, said the commercial. But once his faithful M65 got exposed to water, and the cell phone hanged. It's kinda irritating. As if Bill Gates wasn't enough, with the damned blue screen error. The blue screen error goes away with Windows XP, and now comes hang-incidents in cellphones! A deep breath escaped himself. The sigh was a tribute to a longtime, retired friend--the 3310 that is now resting in peace, safely deposited inside the confines of the last drawer of the cabinet.

"It served me well. In sleep, I slapped it off the bed. It fell down with a bomb-dropping noise, and yet it was working. It was faithful in waking me up, with the repeat alarms. The vibrator never failed--5 years have passed, and it's still as good as a new handset.

But.......

"I was in a group gossip, and suddenly the blunt and ancient monophonic tone came out from my pocket. Joe was just in the middle of a good joke..people were just preparing for the "laughing" part..and then rang the phone. Suddenly I became the killjoy of the group. People started giving me weird looks".

The same thing got repeated again, in another occasion, and Jack got the new phone. Not being afraid of elements, Jack brought out his cell, and pressed the first few digits of the number that he has been dialling for the last 5 years. The first number he called was this same number. He thought "Hey, both of us are loyal customers. We are using the same number for 5 years. At least we got something in common". He pulled off this joke successfully, in multiple occasions. The thought brought smile in his face, perhaps for the first time in the whole evening.

3 hours, he thought. Standing in the rain, getting wet, and trying to reach that particular number. All in vain. He called the home number, and got the reply "She's not home, call later". He tried to reach the cell again, but heard the boring t-mobile voice.."Sorry, blah blah blah can't take your call now. After the tone, kindly leave a message or you can just hang up".

"Bitch...I know I can hang up"

Robert Bruce and the Spider Web story was no longer inspiring. He was drenched, from top to bottom. The cell was still in the warranty period, but he wondered whether he'll get a replacement/free servicing if they get to know that he deliberately let it get wet.

A car screeched by. A speeding Jag. There was a momentary vision blurring, due to the bright headlight. After the car got away, Jack found himself wet to another extent. The driver was kind enough to speed over a puddle of water, and the water was dynamic enough to jump up and attack him.

"Damn, I'm going home. Let Susanne and that BMW dude rot in hell"

"More water pouring down, or more water running down the drains?

More water pouring down, or more water getting lost in the form of tears?

More cats and dogs, or sorrow?"

He saw him get in, but he never saw him come out, and the cell was turned off. Maybe, forever? "5 years is a long time, and its about time I change my number, too."

This story is a tribute to the famous Beatles song, "No Reply". And as dheki shorge geleo dhan bhane, my story also has a lot of mobile stuff in it! Pardon me sire :D"

Board Walking

This is a series of writings dedicated to the different board games that I've played, throughout my life.

Board Walking...(part 1)

I spent the early 8 years of my life in Saudi Arabia. I lived in a small town called Dammam. The Bangladeshi community there wasn't that big, and the first embassy school was not established before 1988. As I didn't have friends to hang out with, I spent my childhood with matchbox cars and an Atari 800XL console . I also had a Monopoly board. But Monopoly was a game which couldn't be played without a partner. I think someone gifted me that board on my Birthday. I was wondering how to play and stuff (mind you, I was only 7 years old then), and then came the savior.

One friend of my dad didn't have a job at that time, and he decided to stay in our place and pursue the job-hunt from there. During this period, which lasted more than a month, we played Monopoloy and spent wonderful times. He always picked up the car stating "A car is what I'd really like to have now, so I'm picking the car". I dunno what made me such a humble kid, but I'd always ask him first to select a token. Here's a secret--on every instance, I wanted to pick the car, and I wished that he'd select some other token, for at least once. But nope, that never happened. Was I being sympathetic towards a jobless guy? Hehe, probably not. Maybe some child psychologist would like to take a deeper look into this.

After so many years, while writing this, I am realizing that I actually loved the uncle a lot. He was really fond of cars, and his favorite brand was Mazda. He even had an imaginary wife, called "Mazedabegom". He used to say that he'll introduce me to his wife, soon. But that never happened. I never thought that it's a lie, or a joke. We kinda lost contact after leaving KSA in 1989.

After another long break, I got to meet him again. He was now settled in BD, and he invited us in his true marriage. I almost forgot the Mazdabegom thingy, but it all came back after receiving the wedding invitation. I particularly remember this wedding, because this person embraced his mother and started a hysterical cry; just before entering the car which was supposed to take him and his wife to his home!

According to my mother, she never saw a guy cry on the day of marriage before. Actually marriage can be a crying incident for a guy. Because, after marriage, a son can't remain that close to his mother. Wife becomes first preference, and I've seen a lot of people acting weirdly with their parents for the sake of keeping their wives happy. This is sad. The parent's should also be less cruel towards the girls who leave their homes and join a totally new family. My mother had to go through a lot of obstacles. I've closely observed both families, and I must say, one is the opposite of the other. It must've been really hard for her to adopt with all the eccentricities of my dad's family.

As an example, in my mother's, Daal is eaten at the end of a meal. The sequence is like this:

1) Rice with dry vegetables,

2) Addition of vegetable curry

3) Fried Fish/Fish curry/Meat/Egg

4) Daal and rice only (none of the above gets accompanied with this combo)

In dad's:

1) Rice, Daal, vegetable curry (they never eat dry vegetables)

2) Fish curry/fried fish/meat/egg + daal

So my mother definitely had a tough time adopting to the fact that daal can come first! I can go either way, but whenever I tried taking daal in the beggining of a meal at my mother's, my maternal uncles would give me weird and surprised looks. As if, eating daal is a taboo!

Similary, at my dad's, I'd get weird looks if I rejected a daal offer(!) at the beginning of a meal.

Anyways, this was not actually what I wanted to write about. I wanted to write about board games and their infleunce on my life (lol). I spent a major portion of my childhood nibbling with fake cash, which made me really comfortable with real money (later on)(I believe).

That was not a great training. I spend way too much :s

So my first 8 years saw only one board game, i.e. Monopoly. I don't really remember much details, but the most expensive and sought after property was called "Mayfair" or something like that. I used to pick up the Hat token, but I used to crave for the Car. When I did get the chance to play with others (which never happened in KSA), I always picked the car.

The car is my favorite Monopoly token!

Will resume later...

Board Walking...(part 2) : Chessassination!

My dad had a magnetic chess board. The board was like a box. One could fold the board and lock it. The chess pieces could be stored within the box. Dad also had a backgammon board, which he never played. He, however, did play chess with some other people living in the same locale. The community consisted of some other Bangladeshi families, and also a few Bangla speaking Pakistani people.

I didn't know how to play chess, and nobody was interested to teach me. But the chess pieces (especially the rook and the knight) always intrigued me. When we came back to Bangladesh, one of my uncles taught me and my cousin (son of my Father's sister, as in fufato bhai) the art of chessplaying. Cousin received the chess set as a birthday present, and it became a duty for us to learn the game.

We spent a lot of time playing the game. Two 12 year old kids sitting on the floor, playing chess, giving frowned looks at each other, and passing momentary jokes--how weird a sight was that? Our favorite arenas included grandmother's bed, fufu's bed, chacha's bed, the verandah floor, roof, the small place in front of the entrance, etc. Most of the time we'd get driven out of the indoor locations, and we'd end up in the verandah and roof, quite a lot. It was quite comfortable playing chess in the verandah and roof during winter. The soft rays of the sun gave us ample pleasure to play for long hours.

I can't help smiling while I am writing this. To get better in the game, I used to play chess with my maternal uncle and another cousin (son of my mother's elder sister, as in khalato bhai). They taught me the "3 move check mate" trick. I still remember the surprised look in Rousseau's face, when I first applied the trick and won the game within 5 minutes. Soon his surprise turned in to anger, and like most other 12 year old's, he kicked the chess board and said I was cheating. I said no I am not, and I can do it again. So he gave a determined look, and sat down again. However, that 2nd game ended up with him stating that "I'm taking my board back home, and we won't be playing this game again." He lived a few houses away, but still quite near our's. Our's sheltered most of my grandmother's family. Almost alll of her children lived in our 3 storey building, occupying 5 out of 6 apartments of the building.

As all the games would take place in our building, I was responsible for keeping the board. But that ended that day. I kinda missed playing chess, but I never got myself one. He was the only person with whom I could play, and thus there was no point in getting another board. I don't quite remember how the problem was resolved, but after sometime, we started playing again.

I consider myself to be a lucky kid, because I spent my childhood with two joint families. Today's generation will never now what they missed from not being able to be part of a joint family. Joint family taught me some really important lessons. Among these lessons, perhaps the most important one is the tolerance ability.

Anyways, that was the story of chess. I competed in a chess competition during college, won one game, got 2 walk overs and lost 2 matches. Maybe I'll get back to that one later.

Board Walking...(part 3) : Round The World in 80 Minutes

"Desh Ludo"was a nice game. I guess not many of today's kids will even know what that game was all about. Basically it's a dice and token based game. The board had a world map in it, and almost 108 major cities from different countries and continents were marked in the map. Each city was numbered, and each of them were connected via imaginary roads. The game had a simple logic. The first person to go from Dhaka to Mekka would win.

The game started from "nowhere". Yes, all the players would be in "nowhere" (which I loved to refer to as Moon, or anywhere else in the universe) and they would throw the dice to get a 1. As soon as someone got a 1, he'd get an "International Visa",which'd allow them to travel around. The word Visa was actually mentioned in the game instructions. There was no separate manual for this. The instructions were adequately detailed, and printed on a box positioned in the lower right corner of the board (Just beside Australia, and below the Indian Sea).

The board was quite big. It was about 3 feet wide and 2 feet long. The map was nicely decorated with different colors used for separating different parts of the world. It was still USSR era, and that was reflected in the map. Anyways, players would throw the dice, and their respective tokens would advance accordingly. The tokens were made off cheap plastic, and the shape was round, with a couple of circular layers within (sub circles). There were caption boxes set against several locations on the map. When a player's token arrived at such a location, he or she would have to follow the instruction written in that caption box.

As an example, in Colombo (capital of Sri Lanka), it said "Colombo ashiya steamer joge Sydney gomon ". This means your token would take the naval route, and go directly to Sydney (from 9 to 15, as far as I remember). So before their turn, players would always hope for dropping by such "bonus" locations. However, all locations were not pleasant. In Algeria, you fall victim of a Sand storm, and you can't go anywhere for the next 3 turns. It was damn frustrating to sit idle while all other players would gallop around merrily. The worst peril was a location just 3/4 steps before the final destination. It'd send you all the way back to the beginning location. Basically that was the most undesired and unfortunate case in the whole game. The stated reason was "Omuk karone mrittu. Abar shuru korun". So whenever people got around that location, they'd start saying prayers!

The game involved a lot of fun.

"Brazil ey rubber chash korte giye lokshan. 3 na pora porjonto opekkha korun".

"Gari durghotonay ahoto. Switzerland er Zurich Hashpatal ey chikitshar jonno gomon korun. 2 na pora porjonto opekkha korun".

"Babylon er shunnoddan dekhe montro mugdho. 2 chal boshe thakun"

It was an educative game as well. Thanks to the game, when I was in class 5, I knew a lot of cities, and I also knew the location of those cities. The map was quite accurate. But it did gave a false impression that all the cities of the world are actually linked by roads.

I got two atlas books on a birthday, and soon after the guests had gone away, I tried to match the real map with the Desh Ludo map. It was fun. I am really thankful to this game. It injected a liking for geography in to me, and based on this liking, I moved on to other things like knowing the flags and currencies of different countries. And yes, I am no nerd. I did these things out of plain curiosity and it was a hobby, not a ritual.

I kept the board with me for a long time, but at end of my school life, I didn't have any partners to play with. My regular partners, the cousins, got tired of the game, and moved on to other more attractive games. One day, while reshuffling our rooms, the board was cramped under a bed, along with a lot of other stuffs. The next time I saw it, it was torn by the middle, and we had to trash it.

It was a sad day for me. Genuinely a sad day. Be it a silly board game, but I had a lot of emotions with it. It's been many years since I saw a Desh Ludo board, but when I close my eyes, I can still visualize it.

I've heard that this game was actually copied from some English board game (Risk or something), but I always liked to think that it's an innnovation by some unknown Bangladeshi person. It was a source of pride for a 10 year old kid. I don't want to take away that pride by googling and finding out the origin of the game.

I think I'll go and look for a Desh Ludo board in the markets. After all, nostalgia shouldn't be ignored.

Board Walking...(part 4) : We're In Scrabble!

My mother has two sisters, an older sister and a younger sister. The husband of the younger sister, our choto khalu, is a very nice person. Compared to the other two jamai's (my dad and my boro khalu), he was quite different. First of all, he was young, energetic and athletic. He pleasantly lacked that "murubbu" bhaab, which is annoying. This khalu and his family spent their lives abroad for quite some time, on and off.

I had two hang out gangs during that phase of my life, one at home, and one at my Grandmother's (Home of my mother's parents). I'll call them "home" and "granny's" from now on. These references are technically incorrect, because my home was also "granny's", as my father's mother, as in dadu also lived with us. Anyways, at my granny's, my cousin and my youngest mama was my gang-partners. Mama being the senior one was the leader, and we were faithful followers. We used to do a lot of things for passing time, ranging from reading books to listening music. One day, choto khalu gave us a Scrabble board, and taught us how to play the game. Things changed drastically. We started spending all our time playing scrabble.

We used to split ourselves up in 2 teams, one would be me and mama, and the other would be my dad and my cousin. My dad wasn't really interested in these shoshurbari visits. We'd usually go there on Thursday afternoons and return on Friday evenings. After returning from Saudi Arabia, that was kind of a regular routine. He'd spend most of his time reading the newspaper (infact, memorizing it, literally!) and or reading books that were scattered here and there. Yeah, he'd read Tin Goenda books, too--just to kill boredom. But since the arrival of Scrabble, dad also found a good way of spending time.

Why I never paired with my dad? I can't really tell the reasons now...it's been a while. But during that time, these teams would appear the most logical choices. Oh yeah! There was one reason. My dad could never forget the fact that he was my dad. Hence, I'd get scolded every now and then. Maybe it was a 3 letter word, or maybe it was taking some more time--whatever. I always had some fault, and I needed to be pulverized instantly. I don't have much grievance against him. All these scolding sessions throughout my childhood has made me a scold resistant person, and I have learnt the wonderful technique of putting words through one ear and kicking them out off the other ear instantly. Hehe....

It won't be a complete story if I don't describe my relationship with this mama. I don't like mentioning names, as you might have noticed by now. I spent the first 9 years in KSA, but after that, I kind of grew up with him. Both of us were proud Scorpios, and both of our first favorite band was Scorpions. Scorpions was the band that really got me in to music. My granny's was a music loving family. Almost everyone liked music, and my two younger mamas were more than connoisseurs. They inspired me, and I picked up the heritage.

Hehe I used to think that people who have the starsign Scorpio were supposed to be called "Scorpions". I loved associating myself with that lovely(!) species.

I was mesmerized by the game Scrabble. I'd eagerly wait for "that next travel to granny's", not for meeting the folks, but for playing scrabble. I had a vocabulary rich enough to ashame lots of grown ups, thanks to Sesame Street and all the cartoon shows. This made the teams quite balanced. Infact, we were a bit stronger in a number of aspects. My father was way experienced than us. He is surprisingly good at English. Even today he manages to surprise me by using words that'd be totally alien to an average Architecture/Engineering background person.

Sometimes we'd made up words! Hehe, words that sound like a word, but are unknown to us, that is. Events like these needed to be verified via dictionary. That was the time when I first came across this marvellous book. I'd eagerly take up the task up finding out the words. That was a good training, cause I never felt uncomfortable with a dictionary when I actually needed that book for study purposes. As these imaginary words became superfluous, a rule was set upon mutual agreement. If a word couldn't be found in the dictionary, the team will lose their turn.

By the way, the team concept was that mine's and mama's points would be added together for the team's score. Sometime there'd be a 1vs1 game, too, where two person would jointly suggest the words. Pardon me for not describing what Scrabble is, it's a game where people are given 8 tiles, and different alphabets would appear on the tiles. Each tile had a distinct score, and these letters were to be strategically placed on the board. There were different options like "Double word score", "Triple Letter Score", etc. So if you managed to make Jaguar, and your J falls on a Triple letter score, your score for J with triple. After making a word, you could refill your deck with taking the same amount of tiles from a bag, without looking in to the contents. The game went on until all the tiles were finished up. The game would also stop when there was a stalemate, i.e. no more possible moves.

Later on, I was allowed to bring the board to my home. After numerous pleading events, and when my gang partners kind of lost interest in it. I taught the game to my paternal family, and they liked it, too. But things were less colorful here, and more formal. Elders couldn't stand the fact that I, a 10-12 year old lad can beat them in an educational game. So that never went too far. And there was my chess partner cousin as well. He wouldn't even want to play with me later on. He said I was too good, and I didn't feel good about it at all. It was like "Why the hell did I have to be so good? Now I'm out of partners!". Yes, I was pissed off.

I still love this game. I did play online Scrabble for a month or two, but it's turn based, and too much slow for me.

Board Walking...(part 5) : Caromba!

Carom board was not one of my favorite games, mostly because I was really bad at it. But it was an interesting game. For some reason, I used to find a lot of resemblance between Carom board and billiard. I used to know the game as billiard, not pool. However, now, after knowing the difference, I can see that the game is more related to pool. Anyways, why the resemblance? Because both in pool and carom, the balls (guti's, in carom's case) needs to be arranged in a pre-defined manner. In Carom, the striker needs to hit the arrangement of to begin the game. And similarly, in Billiard, the first player hits the arrangement with the cue ball (the white one) in order to start the game.

In pool, you add ballspin, and there's also a similar concept in Carom. In pool, you need to "pocket" all the balls of a type (striped or non-striped) in order to win. The first person to do so wins the game. In the traditional carom game, there are white and black gutis, and one red guti. All the gutis (tokens) are of circular nature, with a few layers within. A "striker" is used for aiming at the other tokens. The game board is a huge, wooden square board. You have four holes (pockets) at the four corners, and there is a somewhat complicated layout in the middle. The gutis need to be placed in an organized manner upon the layout. The red guti is placed in the middle, and three lines of white gutis are connected with it. The black gutis are scattered around this thing. A strategically and skillfully aimed first strike can pocket the 3 white gutis residing at the ends of the lines. That was one move for the masters of the game.

The player who strikes first gets white, and the other one gets black. Similar to pool, the person who pockets all the tokens of a particular color. along with the red one wins the game. If one pockets the red, he has to follow through with a guti of his own color. If failed, the red is returned back on the board. A person can keep on getting strikes until he keeps on pocketing at least one of his gutis. So theoritically, it is possible to finish the game without even letting the opponent touch the game. But I never seen such a match in my life. Maximum four players can play this game, with 2 people in each team. There is an "allowed striker placing area" for each player. You'll have to place your striker within this marked space, connected by 4 large circles and 2 straight lines placed above each other with equal distance between them.

I don't know anything about the origin of this game, but whoever invented it must've thought a lot before coming up with the final game board. Such a simple setup, and yet demanding so much strategy and skill! There were so many moves, and so much to do.

There was also a variant of this game, where 4 players could play independently. We used to call the game "Kolagach", that is Banana Tree, for a somewhat logical reason. This time around, the gutis were placed alternately, above each other. As far as I remember, there were 8 white and 8 black gutis. So the setup was like this:

W, b, w, b, w, b, w, b, red, w, b, w, b, w, b, w, b

White was pointed as 10, and black as 5, and red as 50. The person collecting the most points would win that round. But there was another aspect of this game, the aspect of making someone "fokir" (bankrupt). How this worked? After each game, all the person was supposed to contribute the same amount of tokens as the lowest earner received. If a person didn't earn anything, he'd get knocked out. And if he earned only 5, others would contribute 5 each, and the next game would have a 20 point stake. The game would continue up to everyone other than the winner becoming fokirs. Hehe..

In this game (Carom Board as a whole, not Kolagach in particular), dad would become my partner. I didn't have a carom board at home, but my uncles had one. The stage for the games would be Granny's, and this was the time when we stopped playing scrabble. I hated the fact, and I tried to lure the people towards scrabble. But my efforts weren't fruitful. I never became good at this game..never. I watched curiously and somewhat jealously(is that a word?) while others pocketed the gutis. I could seldom pocket gutis, and I was really bad when it came to pocketing distant gutis. So I had to be on constant scoldings from the paternal side :-

There was another aspect of the game. Sometimes the board would get too dry and stagnant. Kinda like a cricket pitch without grass, no bounce, and all balls coming low. In those times, "Boric Powder" was sprayed throughout the board, and the interface got more slippery, and it was easier to pocket the tokens. Sometimes when Boric Powder was not available, flour was applied. Special emphasis was given on the areas surroundint the "pockets". It was really frustrating to see gutis popping out of the pockets!

Later on, I got a carom board on my birthday, and I used to play it a lot at home, too. But again, I couldn't do well either. The carom board was around for quite a while. Eventually arcades and outdoor games came in, and it went to the back of a door. Oneday, the carom board was sold off to some scrap dealer, along with a lot of other wrecked furniture.

I didn't even think about it then, but now I am feeling kind of sad.