The Safe (part 2)

 

From Misir Ali’s Diary of Unsolved Cases

                                     -----Humayun Ahmed

                 (Translated by Atique Rahman)

This is an unresolved mystery from the childhood days of Misir Ali, the most interesting character ever been enliven by the popular most novelist in Bangla Literature, Humayun Ahmed.

The Safe, Part 2 (Being continued from part 1)

Often I saw him sitting beside the safe in a way as if he was eavesdropping on something inside the safe. He felt kind of abashed when I saw him doing this.

Had you got the scholarship in grade five?

No. I couldn’t even sit for the exam. During that time, my father was seriously ill. He could have breathed his last at any moment. I kept always clung to him. His mental condition was unstable. The keys of the safe were tied to his waist belt, but, still, he used to grab them tight in his hands. He was afraid of the fact that the evil spirits would steal the keys and open up the safe. And then there would be catastrophe. 

Listen what happened one night. My father was in high fever. He was dozing on the safe. Suddenly he asked me to come close to him. I went to him and he asked, “Give an ear to this safe and try to eavesdrop. Can you hear anything?”

I placed my ears on the top of the safe.

Father asked, “Can you hear anything?”

Hum.

What do you hear?

I can’t figure out the sound.

Is there anyone walking inside the safe, wearing anklets?

Hum.

Listen carefully and tell me exactly what you hear and not only in ‘hum’. My time is up and it’s time to handover the responsibility of the safe to you. I will be free of this burden once I hand it over to you. Tell me what you can hear.

Someone wearing anklets is tiptoeing inside the safe, with short pauses.

Now you will realize why I used to eavesdrop on it.

Yes, I have got it. But, why aren’t we opening it now? Let’s see what’s inside the safe.

Father got angry. He said, “Don’t even think about opening the safe. My father handed over the responsibility of this safe to me during the time of his death. He forbade me to open it ever. I complied with his order. You too won’t open it. You will keep the keys with you all through your life.

I remained silent for a moment and told him, “Father, while I was giving an ear to the safe, you were swinging your body, which was why the keys clashing into each other created the sound like that of the anklets.”

Yes, you are right. In the wishes of Almighty, you have become such an intelligent boy. After my death, you will press your ear against the safe. You will do so whenever you get the chance. You will be listening to various types of sounds. You will hear the voice of a young girl; her laughter. If you ask any question, you may even get answers sometimes. But, there is only one thing you must conform to. Don’t ever open the safe.

Just after one week, my father passed away on a Wednesday night. On his death bed, he was uttering only one thing – ‘the keys of the safe’. In a state of frenzy, he kept screaming, “Alas! The evil spirits have stolen the keys of my safe. I am undone.”

There were no keys tied to his waist belt. We searched every possible corners of the house, but the keys were gone.

After the death of my father I was fallen into deep trouble. My schooling was about to be stopped. Pranab Babu, the math teacher of our school, asked me, “You, shift to my home. Let this house be locked.” 

I shifted to the home of my teacher. His wife’s name was Durga. She said, “You will never enter my puja room (prayer room). To refer to water you will have to use ‘jol’, not ‘pani’. If you can remember these things, your staying here won’t be a problem. Now greet me with a pronam (a common practice, in Hindu religion, to vow down before someone to show respect). But don’t touch my feet. I have just taken the shower. I will now enter into the puja room."  

I did the pronam but more like a kodombuchi (a practice in Muslim community to greet someone with a salam by touching their feet). She said, “Look, at this Muslim kid. He even doesn’t know how to bid a pronam.”  

I got a bit hurt by how the woman treated me at the very first day. But within a few days, I came to realize that she was one of the five best persons on earth. She never asked me to address her as ‘mother’. But I called her ‘mother’. She used to call me by the name, ‘Misri’. I performed the cremation ritual after her death. It was her last wish. Before her death, she appealed, “Let this naughty Muslim boy perform the cremation ritual for me.” 

Their family strictly maintains the vegetarian eating habit. I had to adjust myself with it. But, sometimes my mother cooked egg curry for me in a different dish, so that my non-vegetarian habit didn’t go away. I will tell the story of my mother some other day. She has got a small chapter in my diary of unsolved cases. She used to make offerings to the evil spirits or demons on every new moon. She used to roast a giant snakehead fish, wrap it with the banana leaf and place it under a demon tree (streblus asper) in a jungle behind the house. She used to tell that a demon would come down to accept the offerings just a few moments after placing it. The evil spirit had no eyes and an awkward smell of burnt meat would come from his body. One day I went there with my mother to make the offerings to the demon. Okay, let’s stop this topic now. I will rather finish the story of the safe.

I used to visit our home on school holidays. The house kept locked down. I would open the lock, sweep the rooms and sit by the safe by placing my ear against it for a while. There were no sounds inside the safe. I knew that there wouldn’t be any, but I did so just out of habit, you can say.

It was another holiday visit. I was sitting beside the safe, placing my ear against the safe. All on a sudden, a female voice came out of it: “hi there, it’s me, it’s me”. 

I was nearly frozen in panic. I sprang out of the safe. The safe seemed to be jerking slightly. Someone was trying hard to open up the lid of the safe from inside. Someone must be locked inside it and they were trying to come out of it. I sprinted out of my home and reached at Pranab Sir’s house. I couldn’t even think of locking the home. I was so scared that I had a fever that night. In the dizziness of fever, the female voice kept whispering me into the ears: “hi there, it’s me, it’s me...Hello”.

I made another visit in the next week. As soon as I gave my ear to the safe, the voice said, “Hello, hello.”

Who are you in there?

It’s me, it’s me. It’s me.

Can you please tell me your name?

It’s me, it’s me. It’s me.

How did you get inside the safe?

The same phrases in response came out of the safe: ‘it’s me, it’s me’. But now, in a clearer voice.

The electricity supply was resumed. Misir Ali blew out the candle. As I looked on his face, I noticed sweats over his forehead. He was still inside the story, as if the safe was just before his eyes.

Brother, Misir Ali, could it be kind of auditory hallucination?

Yes, it might have been. The extreme curiosity about the safe in my teenage mind might have caused the illusion. But, it was not an illusion.

How did you know that it was nothing like that?

I took my mother, I meant Pranab Sir’s wife, to my home. I asked her to place her ear against the safe to check if she too could hear something. She gave an ear to the safe and got surprised. A young girl was telling: “it’s me, it’s me… it’s me”. She asked me what the matter was.

I don’t know.

Where are the keys of this safe? Bring me the keys, I will open it.

The keys are not there. They had been lost.

I think there is a treasure inside the safe. The little girl was locked inside the safe to guard the treasure. The girl must have been enchanted by black magic. In the ancient times people believed that the treasure can be guarded this way. The safe should be unlocked by a mechanic, but that won’t be a wise decision.

What’s the problem with that?

The news will spread everywhere. This sort of things should be done in secret.

While lighting a cigarette, Misir Ali said, “I was able to find the keys when I was in grade eight.”

How did you find them?

I figured out myself where the keys could be. And the keys were found exactly there. Let me tell you how I had done the logical deduction.

The keys were always tied to the waist belt of my father. So, there weren’t any chance that the keys could fall down somewhere.

As my father claimed, the demons had snatched the keys away from him. But it’s not logically possible. Father himself had hidden them somewhere.

He was physically very ill. So, he wouldn’t hide them anywhere far from home. He would hide them either inside the home or anywhere around it. 

He would not even dig the soil to hide them under it, as he had not the physical ability. And if he would dig anywhere in the ground, it would have drawn the attention of people.

So, there remained only one place where he could hide the keys- the well. There was a well just behind our home. So, he must have thrown the keys into the well. There was a concrete boundary encircling the around our well. During the illness, my father used to spend a lot of time by leaning against the well-boundary.

It was not that much difficult to pull out the keys from the well. We usually used a big hook to pull out the ewer or buckets, if they accidentally fell down. The hook was like a bunch of large fishhooks attached together. We had to tie the hook in a long rope, throw it down the well, move it around and then the things drowned in the water would get stuck to it.

So, you had got back your keys.

Yes.

And then you had unlocked the safe?

Yes.

What was inside the safe?

Misir Ali took a deep breathe in the cigarette, inhaled the smoke and said, “The safe was completely vacant. There was just nothing inside it.”

There was nothing?

Even not a tiny piece of black thread.

Had you ever tried to listen to anything inside the safe even after this?

Yes, I had tried, but I didn’t hear anything anymore. This is the end of the story of my safe. Now, please go home, it’s so late at night.