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Tuesday, 14 June 2016

Puppets of the Magician (a story)


Puppets of the Magician
by     Asif Uzzaman
My name is Rehan. I live in Delhi. I have a happy family which includes me, my wife and my children. I have two sons and they both are good in academics. They resemble me in appearance. Whenever I look closely at my younger son, he reminds me of the boy in the mirror of some twenty five years back. He reminds me of the boy in the mirror who lived in Vaishali district of Bihar – with a lot of dreams in his eyes. Yes, I lived in Vaishali district of Bihar in my childhood.
Mine is a story with a lot of sufferings but at least it ended happily. However, there are thousands of children across the country whose stories are almost same as mine but without a happy ending.
***
At that time I was not even ten year old. I lived in a village in Vaishali of Bihar. I lived with my parents and an elder brother. The name of my brother was Kalim. I loved him more than I loved anyone else and the love was reciprocated. We loved each other so much that we couldn’t live apart. Wherever he’d go, I followed him. We had never gone out of the village without one another’s company. We were living happily. All was well until the day had arrived – the day when fate forsook me.
It was a mid-summer day. I was very happy and why wouldn’t I be? After a long time we were going to the village funfair which was going on for a couple of weeks and was expected to end soon.
 As that day my father had some important work to do in the farm, therefore only I, Kalim Bhaiya and Ammi were going to the fair. I was very excited. We bathed early in the morning and Ammi dressed us up in the best clothes of ours. Then, after having breakfast, we went off. We climbed down the steps of the front door of the house and my father waved us good-bye-have-fun with a smile on his face. I saw my father for the last time. I still remember that jovial face of my father. He still comes to pamper me in my dreams with that soothing smile. Although, nothing wrong took place with him. It was I who never returned home before he left this world.
We went to the fair. I was amazed to see so much happiness at a time. There were children playing on the ferry wheels, there were sweet shops, merry-go-rounds filled with children of my age group. There was a tent of magic show with posters of a magician – having a parrot in his hand – on the tent. We pleaded Ammi to let us take a ride on the merry-go-round and she agreed. We were filled with merriness. We enjoyed a lot on other stalls as well. And finally we went to see the magic show. The tent was black in colour and shiny in appearance—enough to attract an innocent and young village-child like me. At the entrance of the tent, stood two bouncers, who talked with each other with their eyes. We went inside with our tickets in hand – which Ammi had bought after struggling a lot in the rush on the counter. As I came near the bouncers, one of them said something to the other – with his eyes. A wave of dread crossed my mind and my legs shook for once – I didn’t know why. It might be a divine signal about the things to come. The reason of that signal became clear to me afterwards—throughout my teen life.
We entered inside. A stage was set and before the stage, rows of chairs were arranged for the audience. I sat on a chair in the third row. Ammi and Kalim Bhaiya sat on my either side. The curtain was closed and lights were off. People were still coming in through the gate we had come. After some time the chairs were completely filled up and the lights turned on. The curtain lifted. I was very excited and so was Kalim Bhaiya. Of course we didn’t know about the doom that was about to descent over me.
The stage was adorned with large colourful metal boxes, ribbons, colourful papers, hoops and what not. All the children – including me – were filled with joy and enthusiasm. And then he came – the magician. A man wearing a black robe with golden strips on it. He wore a gold-coloured crown and a synthetic smile – maybe to lure the children. He started showing some tricks – put some papers in a box then burnt it to produce a white pigeon – on which everyone started hooting and applauding in rejoice. After that, he brought some puppets – big sized – and showed a puppet-dance without touching them. He was a magician after all. Then he showed some more tricks which I don’t exactly remember now, after so many years. Now, it all seem like a mere nightmare. The only thing that I remember exactly now – and will never forget – was the face of the magician, no, not when he was on the stage but when he met me in person after the show was done and dusted. When the event was over, he showed me the real show—his real face. When the show was over, people hurried out with pace. All wanted to go out first, which led to a stampede at the exit. Ammi was holding my hand. Then after a few minutes of hustling and bustling in midst of the mob, Ammi lost her hold on my hand and then I was struggling in the middle – surrounded by grown men – to find Ammi and Kalim Bhaiya. I never succeeded, neither did Ammi and Kalim Bhaiya until very late in my life.
***
Then the hold of my mother on my hand was replaced with some other hand. The new hand was big – no, no, it was real big – and hard. He was holding my hand firmly as if due to the fear of losing control. Kalim Bhaiya’s hand was not that big. Then another hand came and covered my face to shut my eyes and mouth. I don’t remember what happened after that in the rush. All I remember after my face was covered is that the man who was holding me was none other than the bouncer who stood at the entrance of the tent. I saw his face when he pulled me out from the crowd.
 As I opened my eyes, I found myself in a room which had no window. The only opening in the room was a gate of not more than five feet height. It was dark inside. I was sitting in a corner with some other children of my age. They all were crying and I too felt a great urge to weep. There was no one in the room except us children. We kept crying but I think the voice was not going out of the room as there was no window or ventilator. After some time – which seemed like years – the door opened and a man walked in. At first I couldn’t make out who he was. But as he came closer, I was surprised to see that he was the magician himself. He was still smiling the same plastic-smile in the same way as he was smiling on the stage. He came closer and bent over me. ‘I am your friend, my child,’ he reached his hand to brush through my hair, still smiling. ‘Don’t touch me,’ I shouted. ‘Where is Ammi and Kalim Bhaiya?’ I roared. ‘They must be home by now little boy,’ the intensity of his smile grew. ‘Where am I?’ I demanded. ‘You should be happy that you are in Delhi. Such a beautiful place it is. Could your poor family afford to bring you here, huh?’ he narrowed his eyes and then wore back his smile. Then he turned to other boys. He gave us a speech on how great he was and how much favour he had done by taking us to Delhi in his bus after applying chloroform on us. He then mentioned that he was owner of a restaurant and the purpose of him bring us there was employing us as workers in his restaurant.
***
There were about a dozen of us, everyone from different places. One thing that we all had in common was we all belonged to poor families. Waking up, eating a little, washing utensils used in the restaurant, eating a little again in the evening, again washing utensils and then sleeping at night in the very room where we were kept – this was our daily routine for each day of the year.
The place where we had to work was a dirty room situated beside our sleeping room. It was in the back of the restaurant where no one could enter or smell that child-labour was going on inside. We were not allowed to go out. Except for our sleeping room and the room where we had to work – which also included an eerie toilet cum bathroom – we were not supposed to be found anywhere. We didn’t know what life was. All we knew was, if we didn’t work and remain in the secret place, we would be killed – for sure. Yes, of course the manager cum magician used to beat us whenever he’d find an unclean spot on a plate washed by any of us. We were like toys for him. We were puppets of the magician.

***
Years passed. We had crossed the age of being crowned as minors. Now most of us were appointed to work as waiters dealing with the customers. I was one of them. After all we were no longer minors. We had passed the age where the manager cum magician could be accused of employing us in the restaurant. Now, we were given some time in the evening to go out. Of course I could flee but after that? There was nothing that I could think of doing, once I leave the restaurant – as I was kidnapped when I was not even ten years old and was kept inside the dirty room for years until I turned fifteen.
We were taught how to deal with the customers, how to talk to them with generous smile and all that. I was performing my job with as much perfection as I could. During all these years, I had lost the hope of meeting any relative of mine in any point of my life. Days were passing monotonously when something happened in my life – something good happened after so many years. A God-sent saviour came to rescue. What happened was so amazing that even I could not believe that it was actually happening when it happened.
One fine summer afternoon when I was working in the restaurant, a man came. There were not much people on the tables therefore we waiters were busy in gossiping. The man – who was in his thirties – entered and sat on one of the tables. I went to him with the menu-card. I bent over him and offered the card with the smile that we were taught to deliver. He caught a glance of my face and took the menu-card. After a second or two he looked back at my face almost in a reflex as if he had seen something extraordinary in me. ‘Rehan? Is it you Rehan?’ he said widening his eyes. I was taken aback. At first I could not understand what was going on but it didn’t take me more than a moment to understand who he was. After all I was familiar with his way of speaking. ‘Kalim Bhaiya? Is it you?’ I said hesitantly. ‘Yes, it’s me Rehan,’ Kalim Bhaiya’s eyes became wet and so became mine. We just kept looking at each other’s faces with tears and smiles of joy. The kind of happiness that filled me was never felt in all the years from the day I was kidnapped. We talked a little and he asked me to go with him. I told him I could not because the manager cum magician would never allow me to leave. Then Kalim Bhaiya gave me an address and asked me to report there in the evening. He ate nothing and went away. I came and told my fellow workers – with whom I had spent the years of pain and punishment – that my brother had found me and that I was going away forever. They became very happy and prayed for success of my plan and a good life afterwards.
In the evening when I was leaving I encouraged them by saying that they too would be rescued very soon. They all cried on my departure as we had become a family. I hugged all of them and left.
I reached the place where bhaiya had asked me to come. He was standing there with a welcoming smile. As I came near, he hugged me and we both filled up with ecstasy. Then we boarded on a taxi. He took me to an apartment. He told me that this was the place where our family had settled. I met Ammi. She cried and pampered me in her arms as she used to do when we lived happily in Vaishali. My father had passed away. Now, we three started living happily.
Now, as I write this story I am reliving those days of many years back. Now, I have a wife and two children. Ammi and Kalim Bhaiya also left the world in later years. Now, I live happily with my family.
© Asif uzzaman
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Also read :  FIZA : A True Story

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