****
Music and the sound of classics by Nazrul leak through the grand doors of the theater reaching the ears of Usha. She hums along, the melodies being ingrained into her head while her small hands sweep away the torn up tickets in the hall. Usha always loved singing, so this was perfect for her. Sometimes, she'd imagine herself on those stages. Sparkly saree, her long hair tied into an intricate braid laced with her favorite flowers, and her brother, Mahin in the crowd. People would line up to hear her sing! The theater would be booming-
A tap on her shoulder pulls her out of the daydreams behind her eyelids.
“Oh uncle, kichu lagbe?”(Oh uncle, do you need something?)
“Na mamoni, kintu tor shathe ektu kotha chilo.” (No sweetheart, but I need to talk to you about something.)
“Ki hoyeche ebar? Abar ki Mitur shift amake bhorte Hobe? Shomoshha nai ami-” (What happened this time? Do I need to cover Mitu’s shift again? That's no problem, I can-)
“Na, na. Ektu shun maa, upor theke budget katse, amader onek jonke chere dite hochhe arki…” (No,no listen to me sweetheart, upper management made budget cuts, we're having to lay off a lot of people…)
Usha being only eighteen almost nineteen, doesn't quite understand the connotations. Only when her manager explicitly tells her she's fired, does her mind comprehend the situation. Dread washes over her when she leaves the theater. It's peak business hours for the street stalls that cover Dhaka in the scent of reused oil and unhealthy junk food. Schoolboys laughing among themselves, people getting off work. Usha envies them.
Why does everyone have it so much easier than her? Why does she have to do so much? And even then she gets fired, it's like she's the ultimate loser. The only thing in this world the street lamps don't shine their light down onto.
No, it's fine, she's fine. She'll find another job tomorrow, it'll be okay. Mahin is waiting, she needs to go home.
****
“Mahin? Mahin!”(Mahin? Mahin!)
The house is quiet, too quiet. Usha throws back her head in annoyance and moves to the kitchen. Empty cupboards, empty jars, she finds just enough lentils to make one last serving of Khichuri. The sound of water inconsistently running from the tap fills the tiny structure. It's the last thing Usha and Mahin’s parents left them. Their funeral was extremely overwhelming for Usha. She remembers holding Mahin and not being able to explain to him what's going on. Her memories of that day are interrupted by the front door slowly creaking open. Her voice echoes through the apartment.
“Mahin! Kothai chili tui? Edik ai!” (Mahin! Where were you? Come here!)
Mahin’s sneaky entrance is a failure. He huffs in disappointment and walks to the kitchen, his head hanging while he hides his hands behind his back.
“Apu.. Emni ektu khelchilam Riyander shathe..”(Apu.. I was just playing with Riyan and the others..)
“Khelle khelbi, shomoi moto ashte ki shomoshha??”(If you want to play, you can play but what's the issue with coming home in time???) She turns around to scold him further, only to be met by his shirt, turning damper by the second from his dripping wet hair. Mahin prepares for the explosion, he counts in his head, 3, 2…., 1
“Tui abar oi pukur e dubte gechish??? Kotobar toke bolechi ami tui e amake bol. Oi pukure jabi na, otar kacheo jabi na emonki, ota niye chintao korbi na tui! Beche thakte gaye lage ki? Ki ar bolbo toke…”(You went to go drown in that pond again??? How many times have I told you, you tell me. Don't go to that pond, don't go near that pond in fact, don't even think about that pond! Does it bother you to stay alive? What can I even say…)
Usha hates that pond. It's disgustingly dirty, the water murkier than even the drains scattered across this city. God knows what creatures lurk in there. But the neighborhood kids seem to that bowl of bacteria as a goldmine of enjoyment.
Mahin's eyes well up with fat, sparkly tears “Kintu kichu hoi na toh, kichu hobeo na. Tumi emni emni amake boka dao.” (But nothing happened though, nothing's gonna happen. You scold me for no reason at all)
Usha’s eyes soften. She leans down and moves his wet hair away from his forehead, she mumbles out an apology.
“Apur bhoi lage, Mahin. Achha, I'm sorry, holo? Asho, chul ta muche di.” (Apu gets scared, Mahin. Alright, I'm sorry, okay? Come, let me dry your hair.)
Mahin tells her about all of his superhero adventures of the day while his hair gets dried by that worn out, blue towel. Usha smiles hearing, playing along with his heroic stories, praising him for his bravery. The pressure cooker whistles loudly, announcing to the world the Khichuri is done. Mahin covers his little ears, annoyed by the noise. He eats the Khichuri, only after Usha convinces him she ate at the theater.
Mahin gets into bed and begs for Usha to sing him a lullaby, as he does every single night. Mahin simply won't sleep without it, so she obliges. He smiles through the first, refusing to close his eyes, the second brings out a soft yawn, while the third closes his eyes and lulls him into his dreams.
Usha lays down next to him. She can't bring herself to close her eyes. She tells herself she'll be fine, everything will be fine. There's countless jobs in the world, she'll do anything, she has to do anything. That realization keeps her staring at the ceiling until the chickens start calling. It's alright, she's gone without sleep before. She fixes Mahin's breakfast, last night's leftovers. There's nothing else. It actually motivates her. She should get out nice and early so she can find a job and start immediately. So that's exactly what she does. She closes the front door, careful not to make a peep or a certain black haired child will come running to wish his older sister goodbye.
****
The street lights have been on for hours, but they don't highlight Usha’s joy. Because it isn't there. 16 places. She's been to 16 places and yet, no one wanted to employ her. They tell her she's too young, too inexperienced,
and a plethora of other faults. All the hope she had when she shut the front door has disappeared from her form, as a deflated sunflower when the sun must rise on the other side. She can barely breathe from fear, she has no idea how her feet are carrying her through the empty streets of Dhaka. Her blurry eyes are fixed on the ground. The electricity bill, the water bill, groceries, how is she going to pay for anything? What is she going to do? What is she going to tell Mahin?
Wait, this neighborhood, it's the one before Usha’s. It has that night guard. He never can mind his own business. Always pestering Usha about her whereabouts, her family, anything. What a Beyaddob.
“Ki re Usha, mukh hari ken?” (What’s wrong Usha, why do you look upset?)
That damn security guard. Why can't he ever leave her alone? Ever since she saw him taking a bribe from some landlord's son, he's been strange towards her. He's always so patronizing. She cannot stand him. She can't stand anything.
Her reddened eyes meet his right before they travel down to his hands, holding a wad of cash. How did he even get that money? She looks back up at his face, her now angry eyes narrowing at him. His ear grating voice reaches her. He counts the cash while deliberately looking at her.
“Omun kore takash ken? Ai 500 dicchi tore, ai ai.”(Why are you looking at me like that? Come, I'll give you 500, come come.)
That's it. What the hell does he think she is? Whatever tiny piece of straw was holding her together, flew away with the evening breeze. She walks towards him. Her face devoid of emotion.
“Hae hae ai tui, areh ami shob bujhi- Abbey?!? Eta ki korchish? Tui-”(Yeah yeah come here, I understand everything - Huh?!? What are you doing? You-)
The brick that was next to his post is now slammed into his head. Before he can scream, Usha rips off her orna, balls it up, and shoves it into his mouth. The brick repeatedly smashing into that damn security guard's head, the brick now mere pieces of what it used to be. Usha is breathing over the man's motionless body. She looks over what she did, the splashes of blood everywhere, the sharp shards of the brick digging into the palm of her hand, and her glazed over eyes snap open as they widen. Panic prickles into her skin as she grasps his body, he’s barely breathing, but he's alive. She looks around, there are no CCTV cameras. Thank God.
Usha tries to scream- but no shriek comes out, only a strange vibration she can't recognize immediately. The tone is inherently disgusting, not in a scary way. It's sickeningly sweet, like the call of a young girl towards her older brother. The guard mutters something, so she tries again, but the same noise repeats itself. The edge of her kurti is desperately wiping the floor, her attention shifts and her shaky hands pick up the pieces of the brick, trying to rid them of the crimson stains. She tries to yell again, but the same noise repeats itself, bhaiya and his eyes slowly open. Usha jolts away from him, but he doesn't even look at her. He starts walking in a daze, as if he's a puppet being moved by someone Usha cannot see. She gets up and chases after him, begging him to stop and wait, but he doesn't stop. Not until they reach the pukur. She stands a couple feet behind the guard as her jaw drops. He goes into the pond and makes no effort to swim, to
stay alive. He just, goes in, as if he's just an object being thrown into the ocean without a second thought.
She slowly walks towards the body of water. He's floating, eyes unmoving, as if he's permanently gazing up at the stars. She sees her reflection, and flinched back. No, that can't be her. Her eyes are completely black. It's as if her irises consumed the whites. Her eyes feel as if there's a thin film over them. She wants to claw them out, fix them but her hands are cold, too cold, with nails that look downright animalistic. Usha wants to scream, but she has to cover her mouth. What if someone hears?
This doesn't make sense. It's a hallucination from hunger and sleep deprivation - yes, yes that's it. But strangely, her body doesn't feel indebted. Her body feels as if it's been restarted. She feels like she was redone from scratch, all her rusty screws and bolts being replaced with smooth, shiny ones.
She should go to the police. She has to turn herself in, this is a horrible crime- but what about Mahin? He has no one else. What would he do? They can barely manage together as it is, how will he manage by himself…...The money. It's still at the post.
Usha knows she shouldn't do this, she's already sinned too much, gone too far. She might as well get the money so Mahin has something when she's gone. She goes back, stuffs the money in her purse and makes a run for her and Mahin's house. The lights are off when she arrives, Mahin has fallen asleep. He wakes up when she tucks the money under the mattress.
“Apu? Eto deri keno? Amake ghum parala na ajke.”(Apu? Why are you so late? You didn't tuck me into bed today.)
Usha freezes, she whispers out some excuse of working overtime and tells him to go back to sleep. She lays next to him and pats his back, humming a melody she can't remember, her thoughts now consumed by the fact that Mahin didn't even mention his hunger, only that she wasn't here. Once again, she doesn't sleep. However, fatigue doesn't touch her. Only in the morning does her throat feel..clogged.
****
The morning greets Mahin with a bun bought from the bakery down the street, bhat and torkari for lunch and dinner, and no sight of his sister. Usha decided long ago she must turn herself in. For some reason, no one seems to notice her inhumane eyes, people only really judge her long, clawlike nails. However, she still scrambles to cover herself with her orna, the sunlight feels like burning pinpricks on her skin. Still, the rickshaw ride to the station gives her time for clarity. The actions of last night eat her from her heart to her hands, she feels it in her chest. But the relief of paying the bills and being able to buy food for Mahin somehow feels like a sensation she hasn't felt in years, her mother's embrace. No, she can't do this. No one will even believe her. And Mahin needs her.
“Bhaiya, station e na, oi je shamner park ta tei chere den”(Bhaiya, not at the station, drop me off at that park over there)
Usha doesn't know what's happening to her, and she doesn't want to. She needs this, Mahin needs this. So she quietly sits on a bench, overlooking the garden. She sits there until the street lamps come back on, the streets start emptying and finally, the darkness of midnight swallows all that she can see, even though her vision seems to have gotten better. She looks down at her hands. The hands that used to be covered in dents and scratches from hard labour. Those hands arent here anymore. The puddle next to her feet shows her the face she can barely recognize. Her eyes don't have that brown that used to glow under sunlight. Her inability to process what's happened to her continues to make her head spin until she spots a boy with short, brownish black hair, wearing the uniform of the school she used to go to. Usha doesn't recognize him but it doesn't matter. She beckons him to come to her and tries to yell, the same way that she did yesterday and again, no yell ever reaches her ears. This time, the melodic call of a mother telling her son to come home sounds through the area. The boy responds, “Ammu?”. He's sealed. Usha sighs and does it again, and once more, the boy begins walking. He also looks as if his feet are being controlled by an external force, a doll being played with. She reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. There isn't much, but it's enough for a day or two. She feels that same rejuvenating feeling as yesterday.
Usha follows him and he ends up in the same place as the guard. The pukur. It isn't long before he's also floating as if he's a leaf that dropped down from the nearby tree, although the guard is no longer there. The reminder bringing tears to her unnatural eyes.
****
Usha’s facing the sink, washing dishes in the dark. She's been…”hunting” for the past couple of months. She makes sure to come home only after Mahin is asleep. She never really gives him the chance to see her, making sure light never reached her in front of Mahin. At least she has some time
to rest now. But her throat feels as if she's inhaling sand. It always gets like this if she goes a day or two without feeding. The process is what fuels her, makes her feel healthier than ever. It's a plus, alongside the monetary gain of course. The plan for this month's hunt is funneling through her thoughts. Maybe thrice a week? Or maybe four times.
“Apu.. Tumi ki amar upor raag korecho?” (Apu.. Are you mad at me?)
Mahin.
“Na, keno?” (No, why?)
“Tumi amar dike takao na, shudhu raate ghum pariye dao. Tumi toh amar name o nao na. Ami ki kichu korechi? Ami toh ar pukureo jai na!” (You never even look at me anymore, you only tuck me into bed at night. You don't even call my name anymore. Did I do something? I don't even go to the pond anymore!)
Usha tenses at the mention of that pond. Of course she does, her skeletons hide in that pond instead of closets.
“Jash na? Shotti toh?” (You don't go? Are you telling the truth?)
“Hae! Jano na? Okhane bole etttogulo mora manush peyeche. Amar mone hoy bhoot ache, bhoi lage. Ami ar jai na go.” (Yes! Don't you know? Apparently they found a bunch of dead people there. I think there's a ghost, I'm scared. So I don't go anymore)
Usha lets out a breath of relief.
“Eshob paglamu jodi toke oi faltu jinishta theke dure rakhe, taile thik e ache. Bhoot ache. Ebar ja ghuma.” (If this craziness keeps you away from that stupid thing, then yes. There's a ghost. Now go sleep)
Mahin hesitates, as if he wants to ask something more but can't bring himself to choke out the words.
“Ki? Kichu bolle bol” (What? If you have something to say, tell me.)
“Na oije.. shobshomoi light bondho thake keno? Bhenge geche ki?” (No just.. why are the lights always off? Are they broken?)
….
“...Current er bill komate.” (...To save on the electricity bill.)
****
Usha used to feel something after her murders. Tears would flow down, thinking of the families that lost their son, their father. Fear towards herself and what she's becoming would haunt her during her sleepless nights. None of that concerns her anymore. All of this is a hassle she just needs to be done with. Her purse is stuffed with cash, but her eyes haven't carried the innocence she had just a couple months ago. She can't recognize that version of herself. The old her would never be able to live like this.
She opens the front door to the house, now cleaner, more polished than before. Before everything. Mahin should be home by now, he's in school now, so he has homework. But he's nowhere to be seen. Usha looks
everywhere. Fear creeping up her spine, the feeling foreign to her after so long. She runs outside, the pond. Maybe he's there? He isn't. Usha decides to do something she hasn't done in months, she'll yell out his name. It'll be fine, she needs to call them twice to consume them and it has to be intentional. As she opens her mouth, she hears a rustle behind her. For the first time, the possibility of getting caught clouds her mind. No, absolutely no way. Everything is too good for Mahin, for her; this can't happen. So she lets the instinct take over. She lets out her call, expecting the voice of a mother, a wife or even a sister.
“Mahin…” (Mahin…)
No, what? He's not even here? Why did she even say that? But he is.
“Apu?”
Usha feels her body go ice cold. He replied to her. Her hands shake as if she's been thrown into a freezing pool of her sins. He pops out from outside the bush, hurrying to explain that he was hiding in the house to surprise her for her birthday, but she ran outside. He only followed her. She wants to tell him to run, to get away from her. But it's too far. All that comes out,
“Mahin.. Apur kache asho..’’(Mahin.. Come to Apu)
Usha shakes her head and the sobs start as soon as Mahin's eyes glaze over. He has that look. That dazed stare of a doll with nothing inside. That absolute hollow. She sprints, tripping over the grass, and grasps onto Mahin with all that she has, begging him through choked sobs to stop, to go back inside. He can't do this, this can't be happening. But Usha's victims don't hear anything. Their reply to her call cements them in their lifeless cage; their own bodies. Her knuckles turn white from how hard she's
holding Mahin, her nails digging into his torso. But she's a eighteen- no, nineteen year old girl who doesn't actually eat. She could never have the strength to stop the puppeteer that shows her victims to their resting place.
Mahin is at the bank of the pond now. Usha cannot let go, this can't happen. He's only seven, she can hold him back a little longer. But her hopes remain a fantasy. Her innocence that she believed was so far gone, lost along with the souls of her prey, hadn't gone anywhere. Because she still believes she can save him. But Mahin is halfway in the pukur and Usha will drown with him if she doesn't let go. Through her shrieks of denial she decides she'll die with him. She'll drown to atone for what she did. Yes, that's it.
But she lets go. Usha has gone against herself too much, she's too far from her body, and the green, murky water that touched her form may have washed away the remaining parts of her, the part holding onto the only thing she had left, to the person she left herself for, to Mahin. The Nishi is all that remains, and she has nothing to regret. She needs to feed.
