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Fiction

A meal at a Chinese restaurant

Latiful Quader
Hashikul has been briefing Nirmal-babu on the development, and Nirmal-babu has increasingly been feeling inadequate to advise him on this. Nirmal-babu himself has been learning about going abroad this way for higher studies. Hashikul has told him that all the hassles of processing this are being taken care of by the consultants.
Earlier that day, Hashikul and Nirmal-babu visited the consultants' office, where an advisor allowed them half an hour of his time after keeping them in waiting for an hour in the reception. The bespectacled young man sounded slightly peeved as he explained to them the benefit of processing the application through them, and didn't take notice of Nirmal-babu's probing of the course syllabus and education facilities. He gave him a typed paper, which detailed the documents that must be 'arranged' and a contract form to sign. Hashikul looked and folded them, on the assumption that Nirmal-babu would see them later and advise. The advisor addressed Hashikul as 'Sir' and was talking mostly direct to him, occasionally eyeing Nirmal-babu, and answering calls on his mobile. At one point, he said that they had a panel of experienced teachers who would even do the course assignments and write up the thesis of students from Dhaka
on a piecemeal basis, for set fees. He told them that their teachers were more experienced, and taught in more reputed universities, than the teachers who were employed by rival consultants to provide the same service. It was one of the reasons why more and more students were choosing their firm. He showed them to the exit and firmly shook Hashikul's hand, saying that he had taken a wise decision by coming to them, but must affirm soon his commitment to do business, as the laws could change soon. He then casually stretched out his hand to Nirmal-babu to allow him a courtesy hand shake. Hashikul set off for his hotel confirming that he would have his dinner at Nirmal-babu's on his way to the bus station.
Unknown to both of them, the advisor after going back to his chamber pressed some numbers on his mobile. When Lytton answered, at the other end, he briefed him about the meeting and reassured him [Lytton] of his 10% commission on the totality of the consultancy fees.
Ovi is closely watching a program on Iceland on National Geography, as part of his personal orientation program of the West. He has decided to work, live and study, among the USA, Canada, UK, Australia, Germany, Sweden, Russia, Finland or Cyprus.
And Avita is casually flicking through the
pages of Filmfare, rotating her eyes between its pages and the tv screen and monitoring the audibility level of Nirmal-babu's voice while assessing if it is reaching Niladri. Niladri and his aunt have just popped in unannounced and are being attended to by Avita, Ovi and Krishna in turn. Avita is there because her mother Krishna had summoned her earlier to the kitchen.
“Stay there, God knows what they'll be giving off”, she has whispered to Avita.
“Give him dinner mother, or why don't I usher them into Baba's bedroom?"
“No”, said Krishna.
She has balanced the risks of letting Hashikul see their bedroom, where they have separate beds, and Niladri forming an opinion of the world of Hashikul and Nirmal-babu. Hashikul's bus will leave at 8.30. The bus station is half an hour by rickshaw from here. It will take fifteen minutes to eat and it is 7.15 now. His dinner is almost ready. Will Avita help?
Avita surely will. There are certain compasses of life where Avita sees eye to eye with her mother, no matter how outdated she is becoming as the days go by. And here, they are buddies. Her parents could be a source of embarrassment for Ovi and her at times; together or individually, whether they act in unison, or while at loggerheads. And Avita knows how to use or discard
both or either of them to her advantage, particularly when it concerns her self- image, which she frequently practices with certain tact, as and when it suits her.
Keeping up the pretence with Niladri these days, after her engagement with him, is of preeminent importance. At least, until Niladri's sister Sreya and her husband Shouvik come to Dhaka next month from USA, when they will meet her for the first time; until Borodi (Kobita) and Rishit and Kanta arrive from Dubai to bless Niladri; but foremost, until the day the god of fire has witness them moving round and round in circles until the count of seven, while one end of her Benarasi is kept knotted tightly with one end of Niladri's dhoti.
Till then Niladri should be cocooned to remain in the dark about certain facts. Or rather should be in a state of hazy twilight-zone like stupor, so that when the truth eventually surfaces, or allowed to be known, there are all covering plausible explanations. That Ovi has scored miserably in his IELTS and doing his MBA in 'The Harvard University of Bangladesh'; and that Nirmal-babu's third brother is a compounder at a doctor's clinic at Boishali Upozilla and his only son, who is called Liltu, converted (taking the name MossaddekAli, Akash) to marry a Muslim girl. But they need not be seen to or seen by,
notwithstanding Niladri. And essentially, that the birthday meal out will be the first time that Nirmal-babu has ever stepped inside a Chinese restaurant.
“Can you hear him from here?”
Both have agreed that he is just audible, but raising the tv volume will have them lose their conversations, and the bedroom where Niladri is now is a bit further down. Avita goes in to the sitting room: she could interfere in the conversation to change the subject, should it become necessary, or divert Hashikul's interest towards her in conversation, which would be easier, or guide back Niladri to the veranda if he wanders in the sitting room to join in the conversation. He could be a bit raw, at times, and annoyingly unassuming like that.
"You have to understand”, Nirmal-babu continues with Hashlkul, “It is not fully dark, rather shadowy.”
"Oh?"
"Still, you can see and read the menu, that type of darkness”, Nirmal-babu beams, sensing Hashikul's interest.
“I see”, Hashikul murmurs.
(The first segment of this story appeared on Saturday before last. To be continued)