THE ANATOMY OF TRAGEDY
(A short-story)
MANOJ DAS
The old Dr Saha went
on:
“You
writers tend to ignore the fact that a villain is not always necessary to bring
about a tragedy. You know Sumi, don’t you?–the
unfortunate girl who has been with me even after I retired from the
“Sumi was an orphan. She had then recently come to the town,
to live with a distantly related uncle.
“Beside
the uncle’s house, there was a double-storeyed building
with a prolific little rosary on its roof. A nice looking lad often strolled
amidst the plants, watering and pruning the plants, rearranging the pots and
perhaps throwing now and then a smile or a rose at Sumi
who, from below, silently and smilingly marveled at the roofgarden
and the lad. Orphans always thirst for affection. That was our Sumi’s first ever contact with the world beyond her uncle’s
compound.
“Sumi went to a school. Shortly thereafter the students
arranged a farewell for a retiring mistress. A little while before the meeting
they woke up to the need of a bouquet. Sumi said enthusiastically,
‘I can bring one.’ ‘Go and bring them, dear Sumi,’
other children encouraged her.
“Sumi braved a drizzle and ran home. She had in her mind
to-request her aunt to procure some roses from the neighbour’s.
But both her aunt and uncle were out. The house was locked.
“Sumi had no doubt that the lad of the rosary would be too glad
to dump upon her all his roses. Only if she could meet him
and tell him......
“Sumi must have hesitated a lot. But then she had to decide after
all, about the step she should take since there was very little time at her
disposal. And then there was of course the thrill of the hope of befriending
that lovely lad who still had
remained half stranger.
“And
her tiny feet must have got
electrified with that thrill, for she soon found herself on
the balcony of the upper floor of her neighbour’s house.
“From inside a room a voice greeted her, ‘Come in, please!’
Sumi entered the room which was large and magnificent. The
doe-eyed girl goggled with wonder till her eyes fell on
the lad who remained sitting on
his cot, amazement writ large on his face.
‘I
want some roses,’ Sumi said.
‘Please
sit down. There is the chair for you. What is your name?’ asked the lad.
‘Sumi. And what is yours? But I need some
roses.’
‘Do
you know me?’
‘What
do you mean!’
Sumi said as though a bit angry at such a
superfluous question, “Do you mean that I don’t know you only because I don’t know your name? How did I come here if I
didn’t know you? Don’t I see you everyday?’
‘I
too see you everyday.’
‘Your rosary is wonderful.’
‘Is
that so? You too are wonderful!’
‘But
I need some roses. Like the ones you at
times throw at me. Ten or twelve.’
‘How wonderful!’
‘What
is wonderful? And what about the flowers? Come. Let us
go to your garden on the roof.’
‘On the roof? Should we go there?’
‘Yes.
Please. Let us, Soon.’
“The lad as though prepared to get down from the cot and in that process
removed the shawl that had covered him
from his waist downward. Then all the light suddenly went off his
face and in a hopeless tone he said,
‘But how?’
‘Why?’
Sumi casually asked as she looked at the boy again.
“And
she saw that the boy had no legs!
“And now looking at the utterly bewildered Sumi,
the boy burst into peals of laughter.
Sumi began to run. She reached her home. But the house was still locked. She
fainted.
“She
opened her eyes in my hospital. Of course, it took time for her to talk and
behave normally again.
“The
mystery was, in the neighbour’s house, there were two
brothers–twins. One had lost his legs in his infancy. Sumi
always saw the other. That day, it was not that the cripple brother was joking
with Sumi or had any desire to deceive her. He had
seen Sumi through his window several times, though Sumi had never seen him. In his gloomy life, Sumi
had that day brought a shower of sunshine. So strongly he had desired to oblige
her that for a moment he forgot about his lameness and identified himself with
his brother. The terrible shock of disillusionment came when he wanted to walk.
Then he broke into laughter; but that was only a form of his bitter wail of agony.
This is what I concluded from my investigation.
“But even to this day, Sumi
would look suspiciously at the legs of
any stranger. The experience of discovering her dream-boy that walked
amidst roses as having no legs, was too much for her
at that tender age.
“But the lame boy did not survive the
encounter. He alternated between fits of laughter and weeping for a few days
and then died of fever.
“Strange,
isn’t it?” Dr Saha concluded, and then with a sigh he
amended his conclusion, “But is
there anything strange, after all?”