Short Story
Burnt flesh
He darts into the washroom, splashes water on his face; sprays as much air freshener as has been left in the bottle. Lemon-fragrant air freshener. He throws up in the commode; flashes it hastily. He is whining like a little girl. Warm droplets are streaming down his cheeks. He can't breathe. He rubs his hands with the washing foam. The smell of the liquid soap mingled with the lemon-fragrant air freshener lets out a totally different smell…now that new smell inundates the white tiled washroom. It is similar to the smell of burnt flesh.
He is the over-protected son of an indulgent father. He has just entered upon his O' levels. All he knows about the world is that it is something that belongs to the 'outside'- outside the window sills of his car, his home, his classroom…
"For the one I love most"
"You are worthier than my life…"
"To the stars, to the glimmering bay, I wished for my child everyday…"
His father practises his devotional poem-writing on the first pages of the books he chooses for his son, smelling the essence of the plot; on the paper box of the jigsaw puzzle he has collected in his dreams and nightmares.
Zayed's father's world revolves around Zayed and Zayed's world streams around baba…and Cartoon Network…and experimental half-draft fictions…and paperback novels…movies and a deep craving for the 'outside'. The only complaint he has against his baba is- "Why are you so possessive, Baba? You act like a jealous lover…" He recalls a scene from some English movie where the lover never lets his girlfriend leave home alone. From what he observes from the other side of the window sills, 'outside' never seems to him that threatening. The morning crowds, the busy streets, small girls vending half-dead roses, the colours of road-side temporary shops. Life is there…he romanticizes. He dreams of having a pair of wings so that he could evade the shielding grasp of Baba and descend on earth to meet real people and pluck fragments of real life.
He cannot recall his mother. Baba always recounts the same story…
God sometimes does something to us that goes beyond any explanation, that seems totally undeserved. Yet it happens and ruins all the dreams and effaces the shimmering fantasies we try to realize.
Baba loved Mother more than anything else. Baba loves Mother more than anything else.
"But that was just an accident, Baba. There are so many other people living outside, traveling, fighting and still surviving. You make me feel like a lonely fish in an aquarium." But Baba never listens.
Actually, Zayed is a bit confused about what life is. Roughly it is something that completely dwells there, on the outside. Where there are real living people, in their real 'struggle'. He picks these words may be from an English classic.
It is the first time in his life that he plays truant. Bunks class at the coaching and goes out with his truant collaborators; has had a long rickshaw trip around Dhaka University, gloating at the life beyond his windows. Feeling it. Touching it. Smelling it…They are heading to Old Dhaka for lunch. "Steaming biriyani in a stuffy, crowded restaurant….oh!" To him the rickshaw is a divine vehicle…This is the first time in his life he is feeling real happiness.
It is 4 June 2010 when he steals out these hours of freedom.
It is a burning, vibrant, busy afternoon when he reaches Old Dhaka.
Zayed and his friends are caught by the smell. Smell of roasted human flesh. Roasted flesh, bones, fingertips that loved to talk with colours, brains deluged with fantasies and envy, eyes that dreamt, desired and aspired…
Curiosity draws them closer to the place that had been happily ravished by fire the previous night. "Is this real life? Is this the life Baba tries to keep me away from?..." He is feeling like tumbling down in a limbo. By the time they are back at the coaching centre, Zayed has already started sobbing. His friends help him get into his car. And returning home, he can say nothing before the questioning face of Baba. He simply darts into the bathroom.
The only experience of outside he has experienced is the smell of burnt flesh.
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