Monday, November 22, 2021

The Lakeview Café

 

A beautiful lake and magical tree line in an autumn blast.


The lake view restaurant was costly. I used to walk past it in my evening or morning walks and sometimes during the noon under the shades of large beautiful trees, especially on the weekends. And sometimes I would enter the restaurant in some special occasions because of the serenity and aroma playing around the entire atmosphere and the captivating view of the soothing lake with crystal clear water mirroring the color blasts of the tree line; in the special and magical effects through the glass window of the restaurant.

 

During the pandemic lock down for covid 19, the restaurant incurred a huge loss too and it was apparent in its look after the year-long closure with hardly any maintenance and the massive job cut. And it remained closed for months even after the withdrawn of lockdown for a much needed renovation work, which paved way to another amazing window to earn some more revenue by introducing an improvised lake view café on the open space by the lake. It appeared to be more flexible and convenient for the walkers who happen to pass by the restaurant all around the day, partly because of the open tranquility and mostly because of the reduced price comparing to that of the main building.  

 

And it was the reason why I became a more regular frequenter to the café to spend some more moments under the shades of nature after the regular workouts. And the coffee was really good; always freshly brewed from the finest quality of well roasted beans.

 

The man was in his late 80s, and he was looking more aged with his thin, devastated and delicate health: burdened with the shredded hopes in this stage of his life; and torn with the burden of struggles for sustenance. In an age-old ragged and faded shirt, he was quivering with a bundle of jute bags hanging from both his weakened shoulders. As a street hawker he sells those bags to the reluctant customers, mainly seeking a satisfaction in winning the bargain: so careful to let him get away with hardly any profit margin.  

 

‘Can I have some water, please, just a glass of water?’ He requested in a timid tone defeated by time.

 

The waiters got startled with the sudden and unexpected appearance of such an unwelcomed guest in the terrace. And a senior among them, himself in an old age, handed him a bottle of water to shovel him away as fast as possible. 

 

What we normally do in a situation like this is to ignore in a magnificent silence, sometimes with a camouflaged gesture of disgust playing around our frowning eyebrows, thinking how could these sort of guys can trespass into our sweet moments. Or with a delicate style to slide our sights out of the things unseeable, in a fragile attempt to sugarcoat our guilty conscience thinking that he will either survive anyway or will go beyond the necessity of surviving all the way.

 

 

But apparently, he needed some calories to consume; with contrast to the regular customers of the café who spend hours to burn their calories and then add some as part of the refreshments and I was probably one like them, seeking some pace-less moment of solace in the reckless racing for life. He was quivering in hunger and reached a point to fell down on earth anytime. And still his burnt out dignity shuttered his mouth to not ask for some food instead of a glass of water. But, you can easily get away with it by putting you in the dilemma of noticing and not noticing; whatever is comfortable for you. And whatever was comfortable for Philip, the wealthy husband of Rosemary Fell.  

 

The first thing that strike my head was how we possibly can bring a positive change to the destiny of these kind of people: burdened with the age and ravished off their rights to the commonwealth society; the carcass of a circus.

 

And then Katherine Mansfield’s short story, ‘A Cup of Tea’ flashed back to my vision.

 

Answering to the appalling request for alms enough to buy a cup of tea, Rosemary Fell took Miss Smith to her plush house in the posh area. The image of the poor, pathetic girl somehow matched with the hungry old man. The girl apparently in quiver and shiver for hunger and winter, was asking for enough alms to buy a cup of tea. Her condition was pathetic enough to drive Rosemary’s mind away off purchasing a painted ceramic box in a posh antique shop. And she drove her instead to her luxurious palace as a harbinger of destiny vowing to change the fate of the fretted girl. She was certain of her heart-felt intention to do good and stood irresolute to her husband’s diplomatic denial. She fed her well and kept her good vibe intact as long as her husband tricked her with jealousy and a sense of insecurity by praising the beauty of the poor girl.  

 

With the slightest risk of our fortune, we back away from all those well wishes to change the destiny of people, to show them how good-hearted we really are. We forget about our preaching on how a strong hope can change their life and make them land onto their dreams.

 

Most of us can’t change the society. But we can at least change a particular moment if we are yet to master the art of looking away dodging our sleeping senses. I know I can’t do big; but, it’s not good enough reason to force myself away from doing the least thing I can do. And as I myself was not in either of the categories of the doers and the ignorers and as I really didn’t belong to the class who would think of their budgets inside the main building or outside in the terrace, I asked a young waiter to come close. He knew me well as a recent addition to café for the love of a good cup of coffee. 

 

I asked him to get the old man to a vacant corner table, which usually remains unchosen and unoccupied for a hard angle of the beautiful view. I ordered a set menu combining fried rice, chicken and vegetables. And of course, the action was not cordially welcomed by the guy in charge of the café. At least this is what I can ignore. But the way the hungry old man was grabbing the food served was something I couldn’t bear.  

 

Leaving behind the half-finished cup of my favorite coffee, I paid the bill with a tip; bigger than I can afford happily and far lesser than what the other frequenters usually take back to their wallet from the changes.


Camping by the River Dhaleshwari

 

The beautiful bank of River Dhaleshwari.




The Call of the River

In a gloomy morning of dilemmatic and whimsical winter, we set out, on a sudden unplanned tour, to reach the serene tranquility of Dhaleshwari River at Dhaleshwari Camping & Kayaking, without any prior knowledge to the stunning surprise awaiting us.

 

River Dhaleshwari

Dhaleshwari is a distributary river flowing out of Jamuna to make a solo trip to cover a long journey along 160 kilometers on Tangail, Dhaka and Narayanganj districts until it merges with Shitalakshya and then the mighty Meghna.

Unlike the other rivers flowing inside the heart of Dhaka, Dhaleshwari still holds the natural look of a river with the natural flow, uncontaminated water and soothing view on its both banks, especially in the Keraniganj part, which is where the Dhaleshwari Camping & Kayaking is located at. 

 

Swimming in the River Dhaleshwari.

The Camping Site

As I said earlier, it was entirely an unplanned Friday morning tour. Waking up a little earlier than the usual Fridays, I felt like making an escape plan from the motored life and a river outside the mechanized city was the very first imagery to have struck my mind. And I ran into the unplanned trip.

I have explored several tourist spots based on the river Buriganga in the heart of Dhaka, but was utterly disappointed with the odor and the water quality of the near dead river. In this regard, Dhaleshwari River was a little far from the heart of the city, and the little distance was enough to avoid the unavoidable pollution streaming out of an over-burdened city.




I had heard about the Dhaleshwari Camping & Kayaking site from several Facebook posts, especially from a group on a cleaning campaign to free the St. Martin’s Island off the curses of plastic wastages. And Jayed Khan Khaled bhai was the one who carried all those wastages all the way from Teknaf to his camping site on a hired truck to make an eco-friendly barge on the Dhaleshwari River.

 

Meeting with Anisul Haque Sir

 The Surprise

Even without the necessary pre-booking for the site under maintenance, Jayed Khan Khaled bhai cordially accepted us as friends, not as clients and arranged a late breakfast along with the mouth-watering lunch with the aroma of a blissful village home and a mind-blowing site-seeing.

We had already made our day, quenching the long-cherished thirst for spending an entire day by the spell of a river, far from the mayhem of maddening crowd. And it was all possible because of the unbelievable congeniality and hospitality of Jayed Hasan Khaled Bhai.

We had been enjoying the short trip way beyond the expectations. And then it became a very very special one with the sudden visit of Anisul Haque sir. It was one kind of a moment to feel really fortunate about. Felt so blessed to have the company of such a celebrated personality from this close!  


 



The Nature is kind,

Enough to get you find

The ultimate solace,

Floating within

And hidden behind

The water and the wind.


The Plan ‘B’

It was close enough to reach the spot in about 40 minutes from the Dhanmondi area of the city, but still far enough to dodge the deafening chaos into the calm and quiet serenity on the very lay of the Nature. But, the Dhaleshwari Camping & Kayaking is targeted for the people in love with the raw nature in an entirely village setting. If you happen to look for the luxury offered by the traditional resorts, this might fall into plan ‘B’ for you. But, if you want to dive deeper into the tranquility of the Nature, want to enjoy the soothing greenery of a village, the bliss of a serene river and the peace hidden deep down your heart, this is the perfect kind of place that you can choose for a camping site for a day long stay or for a night to explore the magic of melting Moon flooding the flow of Dhaleshwari.




The Journey

We took an uber ride to get to the spot and the car took about 35 minutes to drop us at Dhaleshwari Camping & Kayaking at the expense of 600 BDT.  CNGs are also available from Muhammadpur bus stand at Basila to get to Kalatia Bazar, Keraniganj and from there any auto-rickshaw can drive you to the camp site on the bank of the river in a few minutes.    


Friday, November 5, 2021

Walking Shadows

An abstract image of the walking shadow of a girl overlooking the melting colors from a tree.

 

I talk to shadows.

A lot many, from

The passing days;

In new bottles

With newer shades,

New looks

And dazzling glows.

 

And all my questions

Change back to phonemes

In a big void,

With no place to land

Like a newbie in twitter

With no returning flows.

 

And I'm a shadow myself

Waking up a new born,

Rising from the deaths

Of the earlier nights

In every single morn;

Putting on well a new day

And the colors of past to adorn.


The Road to Heaven

A soothing and calm shore along a deep blue sea.

 

With the flow of crystal

From the mountain ridge

My soul glides along,

Winging on

A northern breeze.

 

How deeply I miss

The beauty

And the bliss

Of a southbound trip

By a coral sandy beach.

 

Along the green

Flowing deep

And the blue, swinging high

In a wayward leap,

There lies a heaven to reach.


The Dreamy Sunset

A Sun setting in the western sky on the ocean, splashing melting gold all over the horizon.

 

Ah! The magical view

Of the setting Phoebus.

Soothing and calm enough to brew

Orpheus to pen a few lines;

As the dreamy dune of

Reddening hues

Fly with the diving Sun

Over the golden line of pines.

 

It is the cherished time of the day

Sitting by the spell of the bay

When the nous flings open

With the closure of his eyes

And the winging suffocated vision

Get the unearthed words shine.


Tuesday, October 26, 2021

The Shallow Canal (A Paranormal Story)




 

1.

After a week long wait, the dream was going to come true and she was in my boat now with no one else around. She was a beauty like a majestic piece of painting on a rare piece of canvas by a hand obsessed in a poetic delusion to create a masterpiece; one in a billion. I could get so easily lost with the glowing pair of eyes, spilling out the perfect embodiment of innocence. I was feeling so thrilled to take her along in a boat ride in the lake in my 1000 acre estate.

 

No one else is permitted to row a boat in this part of the lake; my favorite place, so close to the wilderness. It always gives me a soothing feeling in the serenity of the deep blue lake with forest lines along both the banks. Of course, there is a fence to keep the wilderness of the forests well inside the border fixed for them with all the creatures and beasts live in this darkest part of the forests. And I used to feel a chilling thrill particularly with the soul-sucking laughs of hyenas, while floating my boat on the lake under the shade of a night sky. There is a shallow canal that flows straight into the forest and sometimes on some very special occasions I used to row my boat past a little gap in the fence to enter the canal in the twilight. And the feeling of crossing the borderline into the dark was incomparable. And today was such a big occasion with a real beauty accompanying me.

 

She approached me a week ago and it was not a very unusual thing for a marriageable heir to such a big estate with the biggest metal factory in the county. The first thing that struck my mind was the pair of eyes: a warm, curious and gentle look focusing on the farthest horizon behind, through my heart.

 

I wondered why on earth I hadn’t ever come across a beauty of such magnitude in all these years. The mysterious beauty with a mystified smile on her lips was actually in a holiday trip to her aunt’s home in my county. She was a university graduate with an interest in old castles and the life style running through the heirs to the estates for centuries. The common people hardly make any approach of intimacy with the ruthless rulers of their ancestors, but she, obviously as an outsider, ignored the long lasting tradition of keeping distance with the lineage of blue blood.

 

I got everything ready on my boat and things were going smoothly as per the plan. And I never failed in the execution of my plans. I make sure to bring everything under my sole control. But today was a little different. She didn’t want to get herself exposed to anyone else rather than me. So, I had to pick her up outside the palace gate and take her to my secret way to get inside the estate boundary. There was a time when I had to use that secret path. And it was not far from the lake.   

 

The secret way was so closely associated to my strewn childhood days when I used to escape the unbearable silence inside the palace, without my mother. I can still remember the moments when we were together; two innocent souls in riches and luxury and in prison under the iron ruling of my father. And then one day she escaped abandoning me all alone in this large luxurious green void. All the traces and signs attached to her staying in the palace had been destroyed a long ago. But, I don’t know how, an old picture of her remained intact with me as a secret childhood possession. The image of a young lady, radiating warmth of love from an enchantingly beautiful face and an innocent pair of eyes, had become my only companion that I almost hated to look at but couldn’t help it.  

 

I forced myself back to the boat and to the only companion, while trying to re-imagine the exciting and mouthwatering plans I made to do with her. And I was on the right course, rowing the boat slowly towards the music of the jungle; towards my most favorite place in the entire estate.  Riding in an evening zephyr with the peace and tranquility and the mystifying muse lying deep down the unison of water and jungle, we were sitting in the bewildering silence. There was a small gap between us and the gap was filled in with one of the oldest collections of wine bottle from our seller and lots of fruits and the well-conceived plan I made for her. 

 

 

2.

I was familiar with the Konlabos fruit and a few years ago when I discovered the rarest tree in one of my solo voyage in the darkest part of the forest, I was over excited with joy. It was such a great feeling of temporary paralysis that I had learned to enjoy with the extract of the fruit in an artistic blend with wine. The near death experience, by lying upright under the open sky with the eyes wide open and the sense helpless in a brutal failure to connect with the organs of the unresponsive body, is something way beyond explanation. But, today was a special occasion and the wine was exclusively for the beautiful girl accompanying me.

 

As I got the boat close to the shallow canal flowing inside the jungle, I started pouring the special wine in one of the glasses.

‘Sorry, I’ve got an allergy in wine and I know it sounds really awkward, but I don’t drink it,’ she told in an apologetic tone.

But the tone seemed so familiar to me, a long way back from the past. My mother hated wine. And all on a sudden I feel an awkward chilling breeze flowing straight into my veins. It had to be a hallucination. The girl sitting opposite to me started melting away, radiating a glow; powerful enough to blind my vision and my mind. I felt thirsty and gulped down the wine from the glass even before a friction of second when I realized that I was doing something wrong. But, I was late by a friction of second.

 

I knew very well what was going to happen with me. I took the wine meant for the girl who was supposed to be my seventh victim. I used to feel so excited and thrilled by throwing the immobile bodies down the shoreline of the shallow canal by the forest for the feasting of hyenas. From the safest distance after moving out of the canal, I used to see the ghostly figures with burning eyes; blood-freezing screams and cackling laughter.

 

And my body was giving in fast; not like the moments I enjoyed in my bedroom or the green lawn by the lake when I took the special wine to enjoy the self-induced paralysis for hours together. I started shivering with all my strength to turn the boat around, but I couldn’t hold the grip of the rowing oar. The boat kept moving along the danger zone and hit the shoreline in the shallow canal and I fall down with my upright body half submerged and my eyes wide open overlooking the darkening sky in the twilight.

 

I know I won’t have to wait long. The hyenas could smell the living flesh, the last line of the centuries old inheritance from a long long distance. And soon enough there will be my permanent release from the castle- full of hidden blood stains and sighs- in the feasting and laughing of the beasts.



© Atique R. 


Thursday, October 14, 2021

The Party (a Paranormal story)

 

A creeping plant on a beautiful pot, symbolically sketched with an aura of mystery.

1

Rein Morrison was against the idea of keeping the White palace as it had been for the last couple of centuries; standing tall and high and proud with the silhouetted mountains behind it and the forest line at the slope of the hill at its west, which had grown tall and dark and wild with the welcoming absence of human interference.

 

The inexplicable attractions for mysteries and the unexplainable connection of human interest to the history of their ancestors had made the place a favorite one a long ago with its safe and pure wilderness amidst growing bushes, a deep blue lake and wild yellow flowers all around the property covering a huge area of 500 acres. And for the last fifty years, it had almost become a tradition for the people in the little town to spend their weekends in peace and tranquility of the White Park, as they called it; so close to the town yet far from the hustle and bustle of the city heart. With too many open grounds for the kids to play around, the beautiful view of the wild yellow flowers grown in abundance all around the place, the chilling breeze flowing in from the mountain ridge, the color blast of various plants and bushes on the slopes of the hills, the place had an irresistible appeal. And most importantly it was open for all.  

 

However, one thing was for sure that no one dared to trespass the un-inhabiting white palace gate. It always remained locked with an aura of mystery caved inside. Without any living heritance to claim, the palace naturally became the responsibility of the city council. They had to spend a budget, however little it was, to keep the outer part clean and mowed. But they themselves didn’t bother to clean the interior which was believed to be haunted by the souls still attracted to the place they used to be living in till their deaths.

 

But, the city people were okay with the haunted souls, if there were any, as long as they were residing inside the palace. There had never been any report of any harms done by any supernatural elements in and around the area. And there were the senior citizens who believed that the palace owners were good people with great hearts for the well-being of the people of the county. And there were no reason for them to turn hostile against the people they once loved, if their souls freed from their bodies a century ago would still roam around the palace. So, people, since the last three generations, never stopped spending their beautiful family times in the place around the palace and more interestingly, people from the adjacent towns and even from the faraway places started visiting the place for the historical appeal, mystified stories linked to the palace, and for the pure and serene beauty amidst the wilderness; still undisturbed.

 

2.

It was kept going on like this until one fine morning when the manager of a famous construction corporation came to the office of the Mayor with a modest and alluring proposal. The spreading interest of people outside the county drew the attention of the corporation to turn it a popular tourist destination by blending the beauty and the mystery of the palace and by harnessing the wilderness in favor of their monetary interests.    

 

Rein Morrison was the Mayor after all. And most of the city councilors were backing him for the business gain; both for the prospect of a sky-rocketed tax revenue and for the personal commissions they were secretly promised by the manager of Hide Valley Constructions Inc. And the promised commission was an unbelievably huge one; way beyond their imaginations. And all was just for their consent and signature on the approval papers for turning the White Palace a Five Star resort including the blue lake, the forest line and the open grounds in the property area.

 

There was an uproar against the decision among the little number of people who had happened to come across the exclusively secret approval in progress in the mayoral office. And Estella Merion was one among the councilors who protested against the decision. But everything was under the absolute control of the mayor, as the majority of the councilors under him had given their support in his favor. The signing ceremony was about to be happened in a grand style with a proper match of a five star facility. A majestic party was thrown from the construction corporation and the venue of the party was none other than the White Palace itself.

 

Even without the official approval signed, the corporation, with the consent of the mayor, started their work inside the property. Under the guise of a routine renovation work, the site had been closed down for two weeks and within this short time, they inspected the interior for a rough layout plan and got the grand hall of the palace ready for the party. The invitees, all being so exclusive and special and the heads of the city, were requested to attend the party with promises of surprises and the commissions of course.

 

3.

Estella Merion was not in a position to make it public until the approval was signed. Until then it was a matter supposed to be kept as a secret among the members of the city councilors as a part of their oath. And the mayor had a reason, well enough, for the approval. A large amount of revenue would be collected and numbers of new business opportunities would be opened up for the city, which was going to be gone past the status of a quiet and calm town with a few thousands of original inhabitants in total. Something big was going to be happened with the expected flood of people from everywhere and the city would no longer remain a little town.

 

She contacted one of her friends from the university, who was currently working as a freelance journalist. His name was James Pattinson, a thin, tall and gentle looking boy with long curl hairs and an innocent pair of eyes. But, inside, he was the most daring badass and adventure seeker among all her varsity friends. She requested him to make a report about the historical value of the palace and the true feeling involved with the natural tranquility and originality of the place. And the secret party they were going to attend even before the signing of the approval and about how the residents were cheated by the mayoral office by closing the location in the name of renovation work.

 

This was going to be a breaking news on the front pages of the local newspapers with the pictures of the party in the White Palace. A big time news. And that was the best Estella could do without knowing the exact outcome of the plan.          

 

4.

As a part of the plan to keep the party a secret one, the special invitees were instructed to get there in different times, keeping at least a time gap of fifteen minutes from one another in reaching the spot, their dream project.

 

The first one was David Muller, a favorite to the mayor. An aspiring young politician in his first term as a councilor. In his royal blue sedan he was on his way to the palace. He knew the place well with so many happy moments spent together with his family. And he knew that he was going to spend even better times there in the near future with all those five star facilities. It would be costly and no more a free zone for each and every vagrant, but he would be able to afford that with the promised business opportunity.  

 

He crossed past the downtown in fifteen minutes in a dwindling traffic with more fifteen minutes of driving time left. And suddenly he felt all alone on the street going along the hilly ways in slopes and turns. But driving was not a difficult job in a moonlit night with a maddening flow of light over the hills, roads and the silhouetted forest line which would eventually meet the palace. He was lost in so many thoughts but was driving carefully with the trace of no one else on the road. And then the surprise took its turn. After taking a turn crossing past another hill slope, a dazzling look with colorful lights glowing the proud White Palace struck his eyes. The palace was decorated with lightings, putting on well a majestically festive look. He knew that there would be surprises waiting for them, but he didn’t imagine that they could arrange such a grand party within such a short time.

 

With surprise, excitement and an inexplicable disbelief in his eyes and with a chilling feel flowing across his veins, he drove along and entered the driveway after crossing the alluring, well decorated palace gate, without thinking that his driving time was shortened by at least three minutes. And he didn’t speed up for that.   

 

Followed by David, the other four councilors drove along the same road; each maintaining the fifteen minutes of time gap from one another, as specified earlier. On the same road under the unchanged magical effect of the glowing Moon, they drove past the downtown, the straight road up to the mountainous one and then a couple of turns until the dazzling look of the palace; now in a surprisingly bright, colorful, shining and sparkling decoration with lighting. And almost with the same kind of feeling identical to those of David’s, they drove past the majestic palace gate and entered the driveway following the familiar cars parked in a row.

 

And then came Rein Morrison, the pride and powerful mayor. He did the same like the other councilors, but with a little hesitance. He always believes on his own judgments and often makes or enforces others to believe in them too. Deep down his mind, he knew that the palace wasn’t supposed to be here. It took him a little earlier to get this far and he couldn’t miss the third turn. He might have gone absentminded for a few moments and drove past the turn in a flow. As a very rare occasion, he got a little bemused and tried to figure out an explanation. And after watching the cars, all known to him, he drove his black Cadillac past the grand palace gate and the other cars on the driveway to park his one at the nearest to the door.      

 

5.

James Pattinson, the freelance journalist and the friend of Estella, reached the town a little after the twilight and boarded on a motel as a new tourist to the town. After having an early dinner at the motel restaurant, he started heading for the palace in a hired car. He had been briefed well about the exact location of the place. He knew well about how to get there. There will be a serpentine road along the mountains after crossing about ten kilometers from the downtown on a straight road and then there will be more ten kilometers journey on a car with three turns on the slope of three hills. And he was counting well the landmarks he had been briefed by Estella. He drove past the downtown, the straight road before the mountainous one and then eventually the second turn. And then he got utterly surprised seeing the glowing grandeur of a palace standing high and proud, just about five hundred meters away. He got confused and rethought about the location. No, it was made clear that he must cross past the third turn on the foothill of a hill and about two hundred meters later the blue lake would come in the sight with all its sparkling glow under the Moon. So, he decided to keep driving along the road for the third turn to show up, ignoring the other palace in a party look.

 

He reached there eventually and found the palace in a festive look just like the former one he left behind, just like a prototype; but without any guests or any welcome note usual for such a splendid party. Two big guys, almost in the size and shape of gorillas, rushed to his car in an impatient look. The hired car was not near anything to match such a party or the special invitees. 

 

6.

The business magnet, Michael Callahan, the corporate head of the construction company and unquestionably the mastermind behind the plan, was the kind of person who never waited for chances to materialize. He just makes a decision and propels things turn in the favors required for the execution of the decision; exercising his power, brutality, money or whatever is required to cater to the desired consequences.

 

James was taken to him by the Bigfoots from the palace door.

‘And what the hell are you doing here and where is that bloody mayor. I have been waiting for his goddamn councilors for more than an hour,’ a commanding voice full of anger and impatience shot out of the mouth of Callahan.

James knew what he was going to deal with and he had his story ready.

‘Actually sir, I’m just a tourist passing by. I am fond of mysterious places like old palaces with interesting historical backgrounds. I just happened to take a night break in the town. As I was having my dinner in a restaurant by the bus stop, I heard people talking about this palace and the renovation works in progress. I was little curious and got some interesting facts out of them. I thought that there got to be people around here or may be camps for the ongoing renovation works. As I was planning to move on early next morning and had time in hand before throwing myself to the motel bed, I just wanted to pay this place a visit. I had no idea about two separate parties were going on in two different palaces within the range of a couple of kilometers. And in fact, I didn’t heard that there would actually two palaces to explore here and surprisingly both the palaces were decorated in the same grandeur and brightness,’ he finished his part of the story in just one breath.

‘What the hell do you mean by another palace within a few kilometers?’

‘The other one after the second turn on the way from the downtown.’

‘Are you kidding, kid? There is no trace of any other palaces within the range of 100 kilometers; neither in this county, nor in the nearby ones. Wait a minute, was it a palace or something else? Is it something to foil our signing party? Did Estella get the proposal leaked out and hence there is still no trace of the mayor and his goddamn councilors?’ 

 

The angered businessman overwhelmed by the thought of another party, probably in some makeshift tents out in the jungle to foil his plans, went just mad and outrageous. He shot out of the hall room in a second and his bodyguards, manager and the butler started running after him. And a puzzled James was left all alone in the large hall room with a dining table full of mouth-watering dishes, fruits, and the branded bottles of wines. And then he heard the creaking sounds of cars speeding away out of the gate.

 

With the general curiosity, not like that of a journalist, James started looking at the mind-blowing interior of the hall room, the large paintings hanging on the walls, the sculptures kept beautifully over a wooden cabinet and the precious artefacts. With the sudden turn to the event beyond his imagination and the aura ruling over the entire hall room, he started feeling thirsty. He went straight to the dining table, took an already opened bottle of wine, poured it down to a glass and gulped down the wine in one single sip. And the last thing he could remember was the sofa he was staggering to, swaying a little.

 

7.

He woke up the next morning with the bright rays of Sun peeping inside the room from the big window on the eastern terrace. It was already 8am in the morning and he was still alone inside the massive hall room, which was looking so different in the day light. The main door was still open. He went out of the room and threw an examining look outside the palace. A dozen of workers were waiting outside their tents set against the boundary wall on the western side. They all were waiting for the instructions from some commanding voices. And there was no one left in and around to give them one. 

 

James got on his car and drove past the gate, leaving all those puzzled looks behind. He himself was in utter confusion regarding what had actually happened last night. To connect the loose ends, he immediately decided to go back to the town and talk to Estella. But he was driving slowly with a careful look searching for the other palace he saw last night. He drove past the turn and then another one, without seeing any clue or trace of what he had seen on his way to the White Palace.      

 

It took him a little more than thirty minutes to get to the town, and the little more time was needed for his backward driving in the second attempt to locate the other palace. The town woke up too by this time with people at restaurants, on the streets and in the cars to commute to their works. But, none among them seemed to be in a hurry to trigger any deafening chaos. A group of people were seen passing some peaceful moments without any rush to chase the life at the park by the bus stop. No one with any knowledge of the changes made to the looming and lurking fate of the city. No one will ever know what was going to be happened with their lovely city by the hands of the mayor and the corporation. And no one will ever know how their mayor and his councilors got vanished in the air without any trace, understandable to human beings, left.

 

And James entered the town needing a new mayor and new councilors in its new dawn.   


© Atique R.   


The Rhyme Trilogy

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