"Meanwhile, what consultation could I have with Panchu Mama! He has disappeared since the morning without a trace! I vaguely remember hearing a rumor—did he accidentally take too much laxative? Yet, I immediately went in search of him. After opening four or five wrong doors and being chased away multiple times, I finally found him lying on a cot in the small room to the east, with a pale, sickly face, rubbing his belly. Seeing me, he was visibly annoyed and whined, 'Why have you come to bother me again? Go away from here!'
I said, 'With the kind of conspiracy going on all around, it’s inappropriate for you to lie around rubbing your belly like this! Do you even know the enemy has already entered?' Instead of helping me, Panchu Mama started whining so much that I had no choice but to leave!
I thought all day but couldn’t come to any conclusion. At night, while lying beside me, Grandma stroked my head and said, 'Didn’t I tell you I’d narrate the story of Podi Pishi’s Burmese box? Well, listen now.'
Grandma wrapped herself snugly in her green blanket, adjusted the betel leaf behind her cheek, and prepared to tell the story. My heart started racing. Grandma began, 'Podi Pishi had a huge chest and a stout figure. Every morning, she would eat soaked chickpeas with half a seer of milk. She had such energy! I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I’ve heard that once, a restless cow kept mooing and interrupted her afternoon nap. In her anger, she glanced at the cow, and for the next three days, the cow produced curd instead of milk! Once, during winter, without informing anyone, she left in a bullock cart, taking only one companion named Ramakanta, and returned late at night, causing quite an uproar about something she had done...'"
"The Burmese box was lost. Everyone had searched for that box for over a year and a half! But no one had ever seen it. In the end, it was never found!" I held my breath and asked, "What was in it?"
Grandma replied, "Who knows! Probably some spices or other such things. Podi Pishi had only one son, named Gaja. He was dark, skinny, and frail, with a head full of greasy, curly hair. He spent his days chewing betel leaves and smoking tobacco. No sign of studies or any kind of work. He roamed the neighborhood in a pink vest and an old dhoti, always hanging out with the local gang. He loved theater, loitering here and there, yet no one dared to say a word, for Podi Pishi would spare no one if they did.
"You know, good things never happen to good people. It’s always the mischief-makers who live in comfort. The same was true for Gaja. As he grew older, he got into the habit of eating marijuana balls and joined gambling dens. Sometimes, he would disappear for months, and then, out of nowhere, return home, grinning with betel juice stains on his lips. Podi Pishi would scrape together money however she could to feed her scoundrel son.
"Then, suddenly, it seemed like Gaja's fortunes had changed. He began treating the whole family to mutton feasts. The entire household was trembling in fear, wondering where all this money was coming from. Even Podi Pishi grew worried. If he had turned to theft or robbery, surely the police would have raided their home by now. Money was good, but where did it come from?"
I had fallen asleep while listening to Gaja’s tale without realizing it. Suddenly, I woke up in the dead of night. In the eerie silence, I could hear Grandma snoring softly behind the pillow. There wasn’t a sound anywhere else. I could hear an owl hooting in the distance, and the old wooden beams creaking overhead. I knew none of this had woken me up. Something more terrifying must have done it. Lying there became unbearable—my legs tingled, my throat felt parched, and I couldn’t go another minute without water. I stood up and started scratching my left foot with the big toe of my right foot while gathering my thoughts.
Just then, I heard footsteps.
What more can I say! My hands and feet curled up in terror. The sound was coming from my eldest uncle’s room. I imagined greasy, half-naked thieves sneaking into his room, stealing his treasure box, taking his silver hookah, and slipping on his velvet slippers!"
"By the light of the beedi, I clearly recognized that skinny man—he was tiptoeing with shoes tucked under his arm.
At that moment, I had no strength left to move, so I silently began preparing myself for a terrible death. However, the man tripped over something—a nail or something else—and cursed, 'Damn it!' before disappearing into the darkness. Soon after, I heard the sound of a door shutting on the floor below.
At last, I regained the strength to move. I thought to myself that there was no point in getting water; it was better to go back to my room. After one skinny man, the next one might be a burly robber. Just as I was about to leave, a white piece of paper floated over and wrapped around my foot. I quickly picked it up and had just tucked it into my pocket when suddenly the door of my eldest uncle's room opened again. This time, my eldest uncle himself emerged, holding a torch and searching around for something. I stood still in the darkness, unable to imagine what would happen if I got caught. But, just like the skinny man, my uncle tripped over the same nail and started cursing, flailing his arms and legs. Thankfully, before he noticed me, he hobbled back into his room, probably to apply some medicine.
I didn’t know what to think, so I drank a little water and lay down again. The paper in my pocket rustled, but Grandma had already turned off the light, so there was no way to read it. A matchstick and a candle were placed on the colorful bed, as usual, but I didn’t dare light it, fearing everyone would know. I decided to wait until morning.
While waiting, I drifted off to sleep again. I dreamed that Podi Pishi came calling to me from the back veranda door. She had an enormous frame, a rudraksha necklace around her neck, a traditional wrap around her body, short-cropped hair, and sandalwood paste on her forehead—exactly as Panchu Mama had described. She motioned for me to come with her and said, 'Search carefully; if you find it, it's yours. Panchu is an idiot—he can’t even get the dosage of laxatives right. You take it. Inside the box, there’s a pair of red gold earrings—give them to your mother. And listen, make sure you make fools of that skinny fellow and that old man. If Vishwanath’s father Vishwanath doesn’t see them, what will become of those sinners?'
With that, she kissed me and climbed down the wooden ladder that my little uncle had built, heading toward the garden. As she turned away, I saw she was holding an enormous mace in her hand!"
"The sight of the mace startled me so much that I woke up from my sleep. I saw that the morning sunlight was streaming into the room through the back veranda, filling the bed with light. The mark from the wooden ladder was gleaming. Suddenly, for some reason, it struck me that the ladder was a very important thing.
This was the perfect opportunity to read that secret letter. I took it out of my pocket and saw it was written in red ink: 'Received 200 from Shri Bipin Bihari Chowdhury — signed, Nidhiram Sharma.
P.S. All inquiries will remain confidential.'
I was shocked, wondering why my eldest uncle gave money to the skinny fellow, and what kind of investigation it was. I stood there like a stunned fish, gasping for breath. His face looked even paler than before, sweat visible on his forehead, and his hair was disheveled.
Tucking the letter into my pocket, I jumped off the bed and asked, 'What happened, Panchu Mama? Laxatives again?'
Panchu Mama, trying to moisten his dry lips with an even drier tongue, said, 'Khenti Pishi has arrived.'"
Waving the letter in front of Panchu Mama’s nose, I said, "Don’t waste your time over such trivial matters, Mama! Even our eldest uncle is deeply involved in this—here’s the proof!" Panchu Mama’s eyes grew wide as he was about to read the letter when, suddenly, the door flew open with a loud bang. And I swear, someone walked in looking exactly like the Podi Pishi from my dream, with a face as fierce as a storm.
I realized it was Khenti Pishi. Panchu Mama, knocked back by the force of the door, had fallen onto my bed. From there, he screamed in a thin voice, "What can you do to me? There’s no woman born that I’m afraid of!"
"As soon as I said, 'You know, I have a lion's heart…,' Khenti Pishi, wrapping her cloth around her waist, took a step toward the bed, and Panchu Mama quickly slid under the bed, disappearing among countless pots and pans.
Khenti Pishi then turned her fierce gaze toward me, staring at me from head to toe. My hands started trembling so much that the letter made a rustling sound. Hearing that, Khenti Pishi jumped as if she had heard a gunshot. She seemed about to say something, but before she could, my eldest uncle hurriedly entered the room. He appeared slightly embarrassed at the sight of Khenti Pishi and said, 'Ah, Khenti, what are you doing here again?'
Khenti Pishi’s eyes, as sharp as a China candle flame, turned cold as she directed them at me. She said in a frosty tone, 'Your household’s cloth is as cheap as your words. I don’t care if I never see the face of that banana or radish from my father’s house again, but can’t I even find a small corner in my sister-in-law’s room?'
'No, you won’t, and it won’t cause me any trouble! Especially at this hour, why would you need any space in my room?' Saying this, he disappeared again like a turtle pulling its head back into its shell.
'Come out now! I’ve lost an important paper, and you better help me find it, or else it won’t be good for you!' he said. At the same time, Khenti Pishi added, 'Come out this instant! I know you’ve been snooping around my suitcase for the house’s blueprint. I know all your tricks! You’re all circling around for Podi Pishi’s box. But that box belongs to me. It’s my dowry, and I will have it.'
My eldest uncle angrily retorted, 'You’ll have it? You mean your son Bhaja will get it! Don’t you know, I’ve passed a law? If anyone finds it, I will claim it. I’ve spent two hundred rupees on a detective for this. I will find that box!'
Suddenly, we heard a soft cough near the door. I saw the skinny fellow standing there as if to say, 'If the box is found, it will be because of my remarkable intelligence.'
At that moment, Khenti Pishi noticed Panchu Mama’s legs sticking out carelessly from under the bed. Without wasting any time, she dragged him out, yanking him by his legs.
"'Don’t take the blueprint.'
Then, opening the paper, he said, 'Look at this, elder brother, the boy got nineteen in Sanskrit.'
The skinny man also stepped forward and said, 'It’s almost impossible for him to become human.'
At that moment, Panchu Mama dashed back under the bed, curling up carefully this time, and said, 'Such foolish women! Lost the blueprint, lost important papers, and now attacking me. And what’s the paper that kid has?'
I didn’t expect such betrayal from Panchu Mama. But there was no time for objections. I saw Khenti Pishi, eldest uncle, and the skinny man had forgotten their arguments, their worry about Panchu Mama’s Sanskrit marks, and were all advancing toward me, breathing heavily. I realized danger was near!
Suddenly, I screamed, 'Oh, Grandma!' and dashed through the back door to the veranda. I saw that the work on the wall staircase was incomplete. In no time, I wedged my big toe into the grooves of the wall and climbed all the way to the roof. I was safe now, though I hadn’t gotten my tea yet. Still, I was safe. I lay down on the roof, panting like a bellows, knowing no one could manage to climb up after me.
Slowly, the sun filled the roof with light. A cool breeze blew between my toes. I noticed that piles of dry leaves had gathered on the roof—who knows for how many years! I could see small holes, with pigeons flying in and out. The air was filled with the smell of pigeons. I was getting hungry, no doubt. But the thought of everyone lying in wait below, ready to catch me the moment I came down, made me lose all desire to descend. I decided that if necessary, I would spend not just the day but also the night up on the roof.
There was nothing to do, nothing to see. Just walls all around, the sky above, and hundreds of pigeons, who knows how many! I could hear them calling me in various tones—sometimes shouting angrily, sometimes coaxing sweetly. But I moved as far away from their calls as I could and stood beside the domed pigeon coop. I saw rows upon rows of pigeon nests in the coop, and their mothers were clucking noisily. Everywhere I looked, there were nests, except in one corner where two compartments were empty.
At that moment, the hair on my arms stood up one by one, and my legs turned to jelly like soft butter. I could distinctly hear the sound of the ocean roaring in my ears. I, who never scored more than forty in math, could I really find today what no one had found in a hundred years?
Suddenly, my knees stiffened again, and I swiftly climbed up the grooves of the dome. Once I reached the top, I saw that the dome was circular on the outside but hollow in the middle.
With a quick jump, I landed inside. I noticed small shelf-like niches carved into the dome's walls, and on the outside, there were empty pigeon nests. It seemed the pigeons hadn’t nested there due to the lack of space. That’s when my suspicion arose.
Sitting down on the floor, I carefully lowered a medium-sized box from one of the niches with both hands. What can I say! Its color hadn’t faded a bit. It was still gleaming, and the green eyes of the dragon painted on the lid were shining brightly."
I opened the box and turned it upside down. The small, metallic contents clattered into my lap — pieces of papers with strange inscriptions written in ink, ancient manuscripts, peculiar-looking drawings, and all sorts of odd symbols that one could hardly understand.
I took down the manuscript and stared at the box inside, which held eight to ten rings embedded with white, red, blue, and green stones, along with necklaces, bangles, and a pair of earrings set with red rubies. I realized that these were the earrings Podi Pishi had told me in the dream to give to my mother, so I immediately put them in my pocket.
Then I opened the manuscript, and what can I say, I realized that it was impossible for me to read what Shri Gaja had written. I understood that this manuscript should be given to my eldest uncle, and the box to Grandma, who could distribute the items as she pleased. I forgave them for attacking me in a circle for no reason, and I no longer held any anger toward them.
When I came down, I saw that they were still standing in a circle, waiting for me. But in a distracted manner, they took the box from my hand and began to turn it over. The skinny man, as usual, quietly approached and tried to peek over the elder uncle's shoulder, but since my eldest uncle was tall and the skinny man was quite short, he couldn’t see much.
Suddenly, my eldest uncle exclaimed in surprise, 'Ah, this is the very manuscript that went missing from the wedding seat of Baba’s Podi Pishi’s younger sister, Mani Pishi! Where did you find this! It was because this manuscript was lost that the priest recited the wrong mantras, and that’s why Mani Pishi and her husband spent their whole lives bickering!'
'Listen, listen! See what Shri Gaja has written here. It sounds like a diary, doesn’t it? There’s no date, no rules for spelling. The rascal stole the wedding mantra manuscript from Mani Pishi’s wedding seat and wrote this in it!
"Monday. A disaster has happened. As soon as Mother Thakurani's bullock cart entered the courtyard, she handed me the Burmese box and completely forgot everything, as usual, while the whole household...'"
"Tuesday: I can't take it anymore. I've decided I will not give the box to anyone. Or, as they have started searching relentlessly, I have no choice but to carry the box with me wherever they go. My armpit is sore from carrying it.
Friday: Fortunately, I found a place to hide the box at the tonga driver's house. I'll bring it back home once the search stops.
Monday: After consulting with the tonga driver, I've started a business with Gaja. It's turning out to be very profitable. I have to roam around here and there a lot too.
Saturday: I've bought a lot of items and made many donations. They take the goods, but they still suspect me.
Sunday: By chance, I discovered this secluded spot inside the dome. I've stored this manuscript and a few remaining ornaments here. When they get married, these can be given as gifts. — Yours, Shri Gaja."
Khenti Pishi fell silent for a moment and then asked, "What's inside the box?"
Grandma opened the lid and replied, "I'll distribute it, Khenti. Although you still haven't repaid the 300 rupees you borrowed from me last time, you can have this necklace." She turned to my eldest uncle and said, "The less said about you, the better. You take this diamond ring. I'll give this to Mejo Thakurpo's son, this one to Panchu, this to Naera, this to Putki, and this to Buchki. These bangles are mine, which I'll give to my daughter." With that, she handed it to me to give to my mother. Then, in front of everyone, she patted me fondly and said, "The last remaining emerald ring is for you, dear. Without your help, no one would have found these things. Now, let's go and eat. I've made so many pithas. Wash your hands and let's eat. But I'm keeping the box for myself to store spices."
As Grandma and I started to leave, I overheard Khenti Pishi grumbling to Panchu Mama, "He gets seven treasures, and I only get one string!" Meanwhile, the skinny man was whispering to my eldest uncle, "Sir, what about my two hundred..."
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