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Short Story

The Master's Ghost

Rabindranath Tagore

Translated by Haroonuzzaman
ON the death of the old master of the house, all the people across the country cried out: "What will happen to us if you leave us?"
On hearing this, he was saddened, too. He thought: "Who is going to keep them under control if I go?"
But there is no way out to avoid death.
So, being kind the goddess said: "Don't worry7. Being a ghost let this man perch on their shoulders. Man is mortal; ghost is immortal."
At last, the people of the country were greatly relieved.
If you accept your future, then you have to think a lot about it; if you think that the ghost is going to take care, then everything becomes its responsibility. Since the ghost does not have its head, there is no question of having a headache then.
Due to natural instinct those, who think about themselves, are the ones whose ears will be pulled by the ghost. You can neither get away from it; nor can you escape from it. You can neither complain against it; nor can you get any justice from it.
With ghost phobia, people across the country7 keep going with their eyes shut. Theoreticians of the country say: "Going like this is the oldest way in the universe. This is called going as ordained by destiny. The first blind insects of the universe would keep going like this since the beginning of the creation; indication of such movement is even evident today amid grass and tress."
Listening to this, the country, having the ghost phobia, feels a sense of primitive aristocracy within itself. Also, it derives a lot of pleasure from it.
The ghost's administrator is the sub-inspector of police of a jail, and the wall of the jail cannot be seen. That is why, it is impossible to figure out the route to freedom from this prison.
The Ghani (the oil-mill where drudgery7 is done to move the grinding tree to extract oil from oil seeds in the prison) hardly fetches any oil that can be sold in the market; instead, what this hard work consumes is the strength and energy7 of the people. After this energy is depleted, people become calm. For this reason, there remains peace in the ghost's regime even though there may not be food, clothes or healthcare under that administration.
An example of such peace is that when in other countries the ghost does excesses, people here frantically look
for an exorcist. Unfortunately, there is no such sort of thinking out here because the ghost has already overpowered the exorcist.
Days would pass like this, and hardly there were any doubts in people's mind about the ghost governance; they always could take pride in the satisfaction that there was certainty in their future like that of a domesticated sheep tied to the pillar of the ghost. Without any noise, that future lay silenced on the floor as if it had been doomed forever.
Only a problem had arisen due to a trifle matter, and the reason for that was the fact that the rest of the countries of the world were not possessed by the evil spirit. That is why, in other countries whenever drudgery7 is done to move the grinding tree, oil comes out of oil seeds to keep the wheel of the future going, and the oil is not poured into the broken earthenware of the ghost by7 bone-crushing labor. For that reason, people of those countries have not cooled down totally; still they are extremely alert.
Meanwhile, chill and lull were looming large across the kingdom of the ghost. 'Khoka ghumalo, para juralo' (Kids fell asleep; neighborhood calmed down'). It was not only comforting for the kids but also for the guardians; let alone the neighborhood.
But, 'Borgi Elo Deshe' (Country7 invaded).
It has to rhyme like this; otherwise, this historical and mythical line of poetry7 becomes lame.
Asked about why7 this had happened, the glorious and reverend people of the country7 in unison said: "This is not the fault of the ghost. Neither is it the mistake of the ghostly country7. It is the fault of the Borgi (the invader) only. Why does the Borgi (the invader) come?"
After listening to this, all of them said: "That's what it is." They all felt very relieved.
Whoever was at fault, the armed footman of the ghost wandered about the sinewy routes of the gate, while the armed footman of the unborn kept vigil on the main streets; it became very7 difficult for the family people to stay in their houses, neither did they have any scope to come out of their houses.
From one direction came the shout: "Give taxes." From another direction came another yell: "Give taxes."
Now everything boils down to the final question: "Khajna debo Kishe (how to give taxes)?"
For so many years, different species of Bulbulis, a kind of bird, came in swarms from the North, South, East and West and went back after eating up all paddy. None had the consciousness. These birds do not come close to those who are cautious, for they are scared that they might have to pay dearly for the venture. But these birds do come very7 close to the reverend and distinguished people; also, they never atone for their misdeeds. Opening books, these groups of illustrious people say: "Those, who are unconscious, are sacred, and those, who are cautious, are unholy. So be indifferent to the people who are alert."
Listening to it, everyone felt happy.
Despite everything, this question cannot be stopped being asked. ''Khajna debo kishe (how to give taxes)?"
From crematoriums to gallows, through stormy7 wind comes the reply: "Bv letting go dignity, religion and blood."
There is a problem with the question: when it comes, it does not come alone. So, another question comes up: "Will the ghost rule continue forever?"
Listening to the question, all the aunts and cousins refuse to hear anymore and say: "What a danger! We haven't heard this question even during the days of our forefathers. What will happen to our eternal sleep: the ancient one and the one which is the remotest of all wakefulness?"
The questioner says: "That's okay.
But what can be done to the modern
swarms of Bulbulis and the existing hordes of Borgis?
The aunts and cousins say "We will sing the name of Krishna into the ears of the Bulbulis, even to the ears of the hordes of the Borgis."
Aggressively, the ignoramuses say:" We will do whatever possible to exorcise."
With a frown, the administrator of the ghost says: "Shut up! Still the Ghani (the oil-mill where drudgery7 is done to move the grinding tree to extract oil from oil seeds in prison) is in operation.
Listening to it, the children of the country7 become silent, and they turn over to the other side of the bed.
Finally, it can be said that the old master is not alive; neither is he dead. He has become a ghost. Neither he steers the country, nor does he leave it alone.
One or two people of the country7, who do not talk during the day being afraid of the administrator, are the ones who at late night cup their hands to say; "Master, isn't it time for you to leave?"
The master says: "You stupid, neither I hold on to it, nor do I leave it. I'll leave ifyou leave."
They say: "We are scared, master."
The master says: "This is where the ghost is."
PROFESSOR HAROONUZZAMAN TEACHES ENGLISH AT INDEPENDENT UNIVERSITY BANGLADESH (IUB)