Excerpts from

Mrittu Khudha (Death-Hunger)

Translation: Mohammad Omar Farooq
(initial draft)

Chapter One

Krishna Nagar, a village like a playhouse for dolls. ...

The so-called low-caste Muslims and "oman katli" (Roman Catholic), the Christian community of native converts, live together in this village.

It's not that they live in amity. There are also a few Hindu families - like the specks of hot spices (jhalchit) in party mix (chanachur). Their pride in their own heritage is no less than the Muslims or Christians in their neighborhood.

Like the pet cats and dogs of the same master have no choice but to tolerate each other - their situation is quite similar. Getting upset against each other and displaying so is common, but none of them have enough time or opportunity to engage is really serious quarrel or wrangling....

These people live lighting up the Chadbazar of Chadshorok (or Moon Street). ... The other day right on this Chadshorok the women got into a nasty quarrel involving gathering water at the tubewell site.

Apparently, while collecting water, an unscrupulous Christian girl physically touched a Muslim girl.  In the past both communities were probably one - some became Muslims, others Christians. May be it's because they were one community in the past, now they hate each other so much. Both of these girls from two different communities are very young. Indeed, they themselves are bosom friends. Therefore, they were not involved in the quarrel. It was the headache of those elders who saw this terribly bad thing happen. ...

Muslim kids shouted more than laughed ... The Christian kids were throwing dusts. A brawl followed. But in their life of misery and suffering, such event is frequent, like fish and rice (maach-bhat). It doesn't take very long for a quarrel to start, nor does it take long to forget all these. ... May be the constant poverty and pain have been good for them. With such misery, who could smile and talk to each other as "didi", "bubu", "mashi" "khala" the very next day after a big quarrel.

They forget everything. The only thing they can't forget is their unending suffering, perpetual poverty....

Chapter Nine
[Translator's note: A joint family with Boro Bou, Mejo Bou and Shejo bou.]

Shejo Bou turned on her side and kept coughing badly, as if her life has the threshold near her throat. Just like the sound of cutting bamboo for funeral appears so sad, so is her noise from coughing.

Beside her, the baby can't even cry, merely breathing heavily - like the sound coming from the fan of death.

Suddenly a bunch of kids rushed from outside to inside home shouting, "The Padre and the madam are coming to your home." The whole house became alert. Really, a Padre with a nurse entered their room. Ladies of the house went behind the walls of their own rooms. Dumbfounded, mother of Paykal simply kept staring.

Sahib can manage Bangla quite well. He said, "Tomra bhoy korbe na. Hami tomadiger koshto shuniya ashiyache. Tomader ke pirit ache, tahake oushud dibe." (Don't be afraid. I have come hearing about your pain. Who is sick? I will give medicine. Translator's note: The Bangla of the Padre needs to be read with "t" as in English.)

Paykal's mother wasn't sure about anything. Slowly she said, "Khoda (God) will bless you Sahib. There is my daughter in law and her infant son. Please see if you can cure him. I will forever remain indebted."

Sahib cheerfully said, "Kono chinta nai. Jishu balo koriya debe. Jishuke prartthona koro." (Don't worry. Jesus will cure. Pray to Jesus.) Then he came near the infant to examine him. He is a good doctor.

Sahib signaled something to the nurse and then went outside. He was somber.

Nurse started examining Shejo Bou. After the examination they both went outside and had a long conversation. Then they gave Paykal's mother some medicine and advice, and then left. They mentioned that they would be back in the afternoon.

Paykal's mother in profound joy started sobbing. She said, "This young lady's fate is favorable, Mejo Bou. Who dies after having so much medicine? See, how many medicine they gave!"

Mejo Bou said, "Before leaving, the madam gave one taka to buy some special food for her. She has asked to give her juice of pomegranate." While uttering these words, drops of tears started coming down her cheeks unstoppably. Mejo Bou kept crying, "So much misery is our destiny, O Allah! Even during these last hours, it's beyond our ability to buy a few grapes or pomegranates and put in the mouth of Shejo bou. You die starving - no body even bothers to inquire. Shame on my own community (jaat), my relatives of the village. No wonder so many become Christians!

Chapter Eleven

... Mejo Bou is crying inside the room; Kurshi is crying outside. One in deep hatred and anger; the other in deep pain and misery. ... Mejo Bou bites her own hand in vain anger. .. She contemplates, and apparently arriving at a resolution. That beautiful face hardens like stone-carved statue. Where the man retreated in cowardice, she resolves to fight - she won't yield. ...

The azan in the evening sounds like a low moan, as if reminding that the time is almost up. ... The evening prayer is like supplicating for blessing at the funeral of the day at its end. Mejo Bou runs like insane toward the stairs of the mosque - it's not a prostration - she keeps hitting her head on the stairs. Her tears turn the dust on the stair into mud, leaving marks on her forehead.

Who know what she prayed! From inside the mosque, one can hear the sound of Takbir on the voice of the Moulovi Sahib "Allaho Akbar". Mejo Bou touches the stairs, and say "Allaho Akbar". But her voice mellows choked by her crying.

Then she returns home again: kisses the kids, caress them - like in a daze. Her heart fills in consolation. Her voice from inside echoes: This time Allah will cast His merciful glance toward us.

She informs her mother-in-law: "From tomorrow, I will start offering prayer (namaz)." Happily Mejo Bou starts whispering a song.

Mother-in-law becomes upset and says, "Ma, give up such singing. Allah is angered by it. Singing is sin. Didn't you hear it from the Moulovi Sahib the other day?"

Mejo Bou smiles, "But it makes me happy. Is He not happy at my happiness? Mother, would you ask Moulovi Sahib sometime - does He not answer if some one calls upon Him singing or crying before Him?"

Boro Bou says in a solemn voice, "Mejo Bou, does Allah listen if you don't call upon Him without reading the Qur'an?"

Mejo Bou smiles and then keeps humming her song.

Chapter Twelve

On one hand is death; on the other is hunger. ...

Shejo Bou and her son could not be saved. Whatever care and nursing they received was from that Mejo Bou, and medicine was provided by the madam - Roman Catholic missionary.

Mejo Bou sits by Shejo's bedside and stays awake all night. The kerosene lamp finally emits smoke and gives up. Like a friend, Mejo Bou remains awake in darkness. Like a stone she keeps staring and observes how a human being approaches the final moments right in front of another hapless, helpless human being....

Close to the dawn hour, Shejo Bou was going through her last moments. Mejo Bou did not wake up anyone else. Whispering to her ear, Mejo Bou cried, "Shejo, my sister! You go alone, silently. Don't carry the painful baggage of some false tears at this moment of departure."

Only Shejo knows if she heard Mejo Bou. She mumbled, "My boy, ... you ..."

Mejo Bou placed a kiss in between her eyebrows, saying, "I am taking the boy. You go to your husband. And, if you can, let me join you too." Mejo Bou couldn't control any more - she broke into a loud cry.

From far away there was Azan for the morning prayer on the voice of a Muazzin - "Assalatu khairum minannaum" (Wake up! Prayer is better than sleeping!)

Mejo Bou grounded her teeth, "I called upon you so much, Allah! Today, I won't call upon you."

Chapter Thirteen

The infant boy of Shejo Bou could not be saved either. ...

Tears start flowing from the eyes of Mejo Bou like the showers during the rainy season. "Shejo Bou, wherever you are, please receive your boy. I can't bear this agony any more." ...

The next night everyone was asleep, peacefully, without the loud moans of suffering of a young lad. ...

Not too far away is the line of British palm trees in front of the luxurious homes of the rich people (babu). Before those trees is a tall pine tree - like an Imam leading prayers with many individuals behind him. The funeral prayer is in the dry field.

At that hour, walking through cool shades of mango orchard in the north, Miss Jones, one of the Christian missionaries, arrived at Paykal's home. She is a young lady in her country; here she is "middle aged." Probably, 35-36 years old. A beautiful woman dressed in white. She used to bring medicine and food fro Shejo Bou and her son.

That Shejo Bou and her son would not live, she informed Mejo Bou long time ago. Yet, she tried to save them the best she could.

She came earlier in the morning to console Mejo Bou. Whether this period is somewhat quiet or it's the magnetic charm of Mejo Bou, Miss Jones returned again to converse with her.

Through the interaction of the last few days, Mejo Bou does not call her "mem sahib" anymore. Though not quiet friendship yet, their relationship has become quite casual.

Miss Jones can speak Bangla well, but hasn't overcome the sahibi accent. However, no one has any difficulty understanding her.

After a brief conversation, suddenly Miss Jones suggested, "Dekho, tomar moto buddimoti meye lekhapora shikhle onek kaj korte pare. Tomake dekhe eto lobh hoy lekhapora shekhabar! (Listen, an intelligent woman like you can do a lot of things with literacy/education. Seeing you I feel tempted to help in your education.)

Mejo Bou in excitement, almost snatching the words from the madam, replied, "Really? I desire so much to receive education. Will you educate me? I don't like the life of this home/family any more.

Miss Jones is elated. Holding her hand she said, "Aji raji. Boro dukhkhu pachcho tumi, mon-o khub tomar kharap ache tomar ekhan; ekhon lekhapora shikhle tomar mon eshob bhule thakbe." (How about today! You are suffering a lot; you are also saddened. By paying attention to education would help you to forget all that.)

Mejo Bou paused for a few moments. Then sadly she said, "What about my kids?"

Miss Jones smiled, "Are, odero shonge niye jabe jabar shomoy. Okhane orao poralekha korbe, oder ami biscuit debe, khabar debe, ora khushi hoye thakbe." (You will bring them along. They will get education too. I will give them biscuit, food. They will be happy.)

Mejo Bou again was immersed in thought. All these thinking made her heart heavy as tears started flowing again. This house is almost attached to her navel. To her tied are two kids. They are coming too. Also they are not going forever - yet she was agonized by fear and pain of uncertainty.

Miss Jones is an experienced and clever English. She tried to comfort her: "Ami tomar moner kotha bujheche. Tomake ekebare jete hobe na shekhane. Christano hote hobe na. Tumi shudhu roj shokale ekbar kore jabe. Abar dupure chole ashbe." (I understand your worries. You don't have to go there permanently. You don't even have to convert to Christianity. You will go there only every morning and return at noon.)

Mejo Bou sighed relief, "Then I will be able to go then. There might be some commotion in the neighborhood for a couple of days. But I think that wouldn't last long." ...

Miss Jones left saying, "Aj tobe ashi! Kal theke tumi shokalei jabe kintu." (I will go now. You must come then beginning tomorrow morning.) ...

Mejo Bou lowered herself to the floorbed to lie down, like a gold necklace, without shelter or neck, drops on the dusty floor and lies there.

Chapter Fourteen

The next day before anyone woke up, Mejo Bou took her children and went to visit Miss Jones. ...

Not too far from the neighborhood is the Roman Catholic church. Mejo Bou stood silently in front of the entrance of the church. Inside the church men and women were singing hymns in chorus. She could not understand a word of it. But the sound of the tune of it appeared so sweet; the echo of the organ made it solemn and sweet. Her mind was filled with respect and joy.

Right then she remembered the Azan-melody from the mosque near her house. In a mysterious pain and sadness her mind became restless. Her mind kept her rebuking: she is sinning; it's a big wrong for which there is no forgiveness; its consequence is severe; she will have to regret her entire life for this!

A touch of Miss Jones brought her back from her thoughts. She saw Miss Jones standing behind her with bright, sweet smile on her face. ... She slowly said, "Dekho Mejo Bou, ami tomay bhalobeshechi. Keno tomay eto bhalo lage jani na. Ami tomake apon sisterer moto kore lekhapora shekhabo." [See, Mejo Bou, I love you. I don't know why I like you so much. I will educate you like my own sister.]

The eyes of Mejo Bou overflowed with tears. ...

Chapter Fifteen

Suddenly there was a new sensation in Chad-Shorok. A tall and big young Muslim man of rather inauspicious disposition has presented himself at the house of Nazir Sahib. ... The young man has a uniform of Khelafati volunteers. ... On his head is a cap like the one soliders wear, but on its front is shining, instead of a half-moon, a sword-cross made of brass. In the middle of the sword-cross lay a tiny pitchfork? representing Hindu-Muslim harmony. In his hand long stick with eight twists. His attire consists of coat and pant like soldiers' uniforms. He is wearing a large-size, boat-like boot, with which  one could easily float to cross a river. ... He has very fair complexion ... His entire disposition is simply a perfect beauty - like that of Greek sculpture of Apollo. ...

Nazir Sahib kept staring at his face. He seemed to have met him somewhere, but could not recall. ... From inside a soft voice spoke, "You cant' remember him! He is our Ansar Bhai."

Chapter Sixteen

After tea was taken, Latifa commented, "Dadu (brother), please take off that dress of a Kabuliwala. How ugly it looks! My! How in the world you can stay inside it?"

Ansar laughed, replying, "It's not Godhdhor, Buchi, it's Khodhdhor. Just give me a few moments. Then you will see how do I polish myself into a prince." Ansar broke into a laughter at his own joke. ...

"Listen Buchi, this time I won't be able to stay more than a day," Ansar said.

Latifa replied sadly, "Staying here has become unbearable in less than three hours?"

Ansar sighed, and then said in an affectionate voice, "Please don't mind my dear sister. If you learn everything, may be you yourself won't dare to be my host." ...

Latifa's eyes were overflowing with tears. She looked at Ansar and said, "I know you from my childhood - you have always been restless due to others' suffering. Yet, today, I feel like, if I had the strength, I should prevent you from running toward death. Never. Well, what is your pain, my brother? You have everything - house, property, parents, siblings. But who can say that you have relatives, that you have properties."

Ansar replied in a melancholy voice, "I have never said to anyone that I don't have anything or anyone. Not every human being is same, Buchi. Some pursues happiness, some sorrow. I search for sorrow. I feel like my relatives are not mine. I could not settle myself under the shadow of peace and happiness of my relatives. I am a companion of all those who are unrelated to me, strangers, those who are homeless. I seem to find myself completely only in their pains, in their tears. That's why I roam around among those minstrels."

Chapter Nineteen

The entire Chad-Shorok became agitated at the news that Mejo Bou along with her kids have converted to Christianity.

Yes, she really turned toward Christianity. But there is a background to it.

Mejo Bou was visiting Miss Jones, the Christian missionary, to learn sewing and reading. It is part of the missionary work that to propagate their religion they do help the poor Muslims and Hindus from time to time when they are sick. Indeed, quite a few of them have embraced Christianity. The story of Mejo Bou is somewhat different.

For whatever reason, Miss Jones had a special eye for Mejo Bou, since they met each other.  ... There is a notoriety of Mejo Bou that whoever casts glance upon her can't but love her. ... With a rare mix of beauty and grace, she has a disposition that draws others like a magnet. ...

The entire neighborhood, men and women, all banded together being afraid that now Mejo Bou is going draw all other housewives toward Christianity. [Translator's abbreviated note: The whole incident made the neighborhood animated.]

That day the Mullah Sahib of the local mosque visited Paykal's house after the Maghrib prayer and performed Milad sharif with a Waaj mahfil to enlighted everyone about the sly activities of the disbelieving Nasaras (Christians). The gathering was robust with all the men and women present. It was decided there that the very next day Maulana Hadhrat Pir Gaznafar Sahib Qibla and Maulana Ruhani Sahib need to be invited to advise the irreligious ones and if necessary special team needs to be invited to debate (bahath) with the Christians.  Of course, the village has to bear all the expenses. Paykal's mother (translator's note: She is the person who lost her son, daughter-in-law and grandson in utter poverty) at this point would simply come up with fifteen taka by selling her goats. Otherwise she would be declared an outcaste.

Ansar already heard everything from her sister. Therefore, with some enthusiasm he attended the Milad gathering to see the drama. After hearing everything he returned to Nazir Sahib's place without saying a word.

After returning home, he lied down on a recliner and asked, "O Buchi, I have a terrible headache. Can you give me a cup of tea?"

Latifa smiled, "Why not? You did not tell me yet as to what happened at that gathering."

Bitterly, Ansar replied, "Useless! Mejo Bou became Christian, and the beneficiaries are the Pir-Moulana Sahibs. To add salt to injury, Paykal's mother was already ruined. Whatever remained, Mullaji took care of it. After this, if I hear that the entire Paykal household with all other relatives become Christian, I won't have anything to say." After pausing for a few moments, Ansar with deep sadness said, "Listen Buchi, (at the news of the conversion to Christianity) Paykal's mother cried so much going around the neighborhood. After the Milad sharif today, and listening to the edicts of the Mollahs and local leaders, her cries have come to a complete stop. Poor soul! Those goats are her only source of livelihood - and she must sell those tomorrow. Otherwise, she would be an outcaste!"

Ansar restlessly started strolling back and forth. Latifa did not realize when the ray of naughtiness on her face and eyes as a younger sister has been taken over by sadness and tears. Passionately she asked Ansar, "Dear brothers, can you please go tomorrow to meet Mejo Bou and the madam? With your assurance, she won't remain Christian any more - I can say that confidently. We have been living here in Krishna Nagar for not very long, but whatever I have come to know, she is not a bad person. She is very sentimental. She has turned to Christianity by the torturous conduct of the people of the neighborhood. Do you know that she was visiting the madam and everyone was falsely threatening to declare her an outcaste? Lately they started slandering against her - such slanders that one can't think of any bigger lies! Just because people fall into suffering and poverty, can they really go that low ...?"

Ansar sighed heavily and kept staring at the starry sky. He just kept wondering how infinitely mysterious is this humanoids like that night sky.

Latifa stood up to prepare tea, suddently Ansar said, "Really, Buchi, except hungry people - like the people in poverty and sickness - who else can go any lower. People of their starving, they keep hurting each other. Due to lack of necessary food, their soul is stained in every possible way. You can't appreciate, Buchi, how bottomless is their want, how immeasurable is their suffering. I have seen the daily drama of their wretched life - that's why I have lost the taste of the meal in my mouth. When I eat even some rice with lentils, I have hard time swallowing it. I feel like those stars in the sky the hungry eyes of millions of starving men and women are staring at that one morsel of food in my hand. You won't understand their pain, Buchi. For a few morsels of food they work as sweepers and carry away on their head all the worst dirts of your home.  ... Don't talk about about them - at least, don't say anything blameworthy about them. You are a mother. Would you believe that at the pain of starving a mother sometime is snatching food away from her son? Some of their selling their kids for human sacrifice so that they can have some food? May God (Khoda) keep you happy. But if you would understand what kind of pain this pain of hunger is then you could never hate or look down to any sinner in the world! Would you listen to a true story?  ...

Latifa cover her eyes while pleading, "Please, I beg your forgiveness. Don't say any more. I already feel like choking." ...

At the church Ansar was told that there is no provision to meet the madams. However, Ansar was not going to yield. After an argument with the Padre for about an hour, they agreed on the condition that Ansar would simply ask Helen or Mejo Bou, whether she has voluntarily converted to Christianity or not. He can also ask whether she has been bribed or induced in other ways to convert to Christianity. ...

Somewhat nervous, the Padre said, "No Mister! Apne jothechcha proshno koren amader bhogni Helenke, athatt bhutopurbo Mejo-bouke. Dekhiben, tahake shoyong Ishwar shot-pothe dakiyechen! Amra keho noy! (No sir! You can ask our sister Helen, i.e. former Mejo Bou, as many questions as like. You will see, God Himself has called her to the right path. Not any of us.)

Quietly damning Sahib's "shot-poth", Ansar said, "Sahib, would you please ask Srimoti Helen to come now?" ...

Miss Jones said in English, "I don't think you know her. Otherwise, you would not have come here listening to words of other people."

Ansar also replied in English, "I know her; but it's true that we are not acquainted with each other. Don't worry. I have not come to take her back. Rather I have come to simply confirm whether she has converted by her own choice or not. I hope, you wouldn't feel upset at my asking that question."

Miss Jones replied, "Never! You can ask her anything you like."

Ansar thanked her and then turning to badly shaken Mejo Bou asked, "Well, please tell me, what the reason behind sudden conversion to Christianity?"

Mejo Bou raised her eyes to look at Ansar for only a moment and then said, "I have not become a Christian suddenly."

Ansar laughed, "You mean you have become a Christian little by little. Is that what you are saying?"

Mejo Bou could not hide her winning, magnetic smile, "No. You all have made me a Christian little by little."

Ansar stared at her with amazement for quite some time. Then, with deep sympathy, he said, "I understand, how much repression our orthodox-fanatic (dhormandho) society has done to force a woman like you to become a Christian."

At these few sympathetic and caring words, the eyes of distressed Mejo Bou filled up with tears. Soon the tears started rolling down her cheek in drops.

Miss Jones and the Padre Sahib exchanged their glance. Ansar noticed it.

Before Miss Jones said anything, Ansar said, "Don't be afraid. I don't want to take this flower-like life to return to our heartless society only to dry it up and kill. I have only one plea. Please prepare her as a great human being. So many people would benefit from her." ...

Mejo Bou suddenly broke her silence, "Can I see you, if I sometime wish?" ...

Ansar was deeply moved ... and quickly said, "Absolutely, whenever you wish. You have nothing to fear as far as I am concerned. I am not at all saddened by your change of faith. In our society of confinement, we don't have the right place for women like you. ... I have realized this by seeing and hearing just a few words." After taking a pause he continued, "In whatever faith you find peace, I have only plea: please never forget the wretched souls around you. If through your hand the sorrow and misery of someone else is removed even for a day - then no one will be happier than me. So much could be done in our society with valiant women like you!" ...

Suddenly the two kids of Mejo Bou rushed into the room and embrace their mothers, "Ma, you are here and we are looking for you everywhere."

While passing her hand over their heads, in a somber voice, Mejo Bou said, "These two are my problems. Here we are at least getting two meals. I have come here because I could not bear their hunger any longer."

With his strong, long hands, Ansar pulled those two kids near his bosom. He kissed them and asked, "What do you like to eat?" The list of goodies the two kids shouted out made everyone laugh. However, everyone couldn't help but be surprised by the conduct of Ansar. That educated young people of well-off background can so casually pull these kids from poor families and then kiss them, they couldn't believe their eyes.

Mejo Bou, the one with magnetic power, kept feeling that someone has destroyed her pride today. There are people in this world worthy of her respect. He is even bigger magician. She kept tossing the wish in her mind that she touches the feet of this minstrel and then powder her face and eyes with those dust from his feet. But her shyness stood in the way. If others were not present, she might have done it. ...

Respect, gratitude and something more made her beautiful eyes even more beautiful. Her whole face was radiating with some unknown feeling.

Ansar with his eyes fully open drank the beauty like a thirsty soul. Then as he composed himself, he placed two takas in the hands of the kids of Mejo Bou and said, "Bye now." ...

Miss Jones and the Padre Sahib noticed everything. This time somewhat angrily he instructed those kids, "Ei! Tomra o taka ekhoni firiye diye esho." (Hey! You go right now and return those money.)

Immediately, Mejo Bou answered, "No. Come on kids. You don't have to return it". Then, she went out holding the hands of her kids.

Padre Sahib stood there in shock for a few moments. Then, after long consultation with Miss Jones, it was decided that, Mejo Bou must be transferred somewhere else very soon. ...

[Translator's note: That's as far as I have been able to translate so far. If you are interested in more, I am afraid you have to read the original novel, Mrittu Khudha.]