Termite
Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay
Translated by Tapas Kumar Sen
Set in 1960s Kolkata, Termite follows Shyam's fall from respectability into alienation, obsession, and despair in Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay's haunting debut.
Full Synopsis
Termite (Ghunpoka), Mukhopadhyay's debut novel, traces Shyam's descent from respectability into alienation and despair in 1960s Kolkata. Wandering the restless city, haunted by visions and obsessions, Shyam embodies the disintegration of modern man.
About the Author
Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay (b. 1935) is a distinguished Bengali author, celebrated for his imaginative storytelling and psychological insight. His works span children's literature, novels, and short stories.
Excerpt
As he has all the time in the world, he gets into a bus at a terminal and takes a round trip on some days. This way, he passes his time quite well. One day at Ballygunge, he hopped onto a bus bound for Shyambazaar. The bus broke down at Bhowanipore. Without being peeved, he got off. It was about two thirty in the afternoon. Luckily for him, there was a cinema theater just around the corner. He saw no crowd at the box office. He didn’t even care to find out the name of the film, nor did he spare a glance at the posters and banners hanging outside. He bought a ticket and went inside. The film must have been a flop. As he stepped into the darkened hall, a torch beam and a ghostly hand approached him. He stuffed the ticket into the man’s hand and silently followed him. The stranger pointed to a seat and was walking off. Shyam called out, “Isn’t this Manumama?” The man with the torch turned around. “You, here, Shyam!” He keeps forgetting that Manumama worked as an usher at this movie theater. He recalled the day he had come to watch a movie at this place with his girlfriend, Vrinda. As was his wont, he had forgotten that Manumama worked here. That day too Manumama had been on duty at that show and led them to their allotted seats. Intelligent that he was, Manumama pretended not to know him and did not try to strike up a conversation. Still, Shyam was stricken with a strange feeling of fear and unease for the entire duration of the show. Out of disgust he almost promised that he would not step into this movie house again. Now he smiled and looked straight into his eyes and said, “How are you, Manumama?” Then he paused a moment, fought back his hesitation, bent down, and touched his feet in obeisance. About a score of people watched this sight. Manumama was immensely pleased and said, “You’re hardly recognizable; how thin you have become, and there is a few days’ stubble on your face. What is the matter with you?” Shyam said with an effortless nonchalance, “I’m just out of bedlam.” Shocked, Manumama gave a start, “What?” Shyam said in an undertone, “Lunatic asylum.” After a few moments’ dithering, Manumama asked, “What happened to your job?” “I have lost it,” Shyam said. Manumama restlessly looked toward the entrance to the movie hall and said, “Take your seat. I’ll come later.” Shyam sat down and smiled. He hated himself for the lie he had blurted out. But who knows? Maybe Manumama was quite pleased at the news. Shyam avoided meeting his relations, and they too didn’t mess with him. Some of these people might gloat over any misfortune befalling him. After the intermission, the movie hall became dark again. Suddenly, Shyam felt someone shoving a stuffed paper packet into his hand; he saw Manumama squatting on the passage floor beside his seat, having stuffed the packet of roasted peanuts and snacks into his hand, and looking at him with a beaming face. As Shyam looked at him, he said, “I’ll send Bishu, my elder son, to you one of these days. You too should come to our place at Garia. In our neighborhood, there is a famous Tantric practitioner who can cure any problem under the sun. I’ll take you to him.” “Let me see,” said Shyam with a faint smile. Manumama disappeared into the dark noiselessly like a ghost. Shyam, his clothes dirty and eyes dim and clouded, ran his hand over his bearded face. Perhaps Manumama wasn’t happy seeing him in distress. So in a bid to put him at ease, he turned and called out in the dark, “Mamu-uuuu.” Immediately he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, “Quiet, please.” Then there was some tittering in the back rows. Shyam also heard a low voice telling him, “Look for your uncle later; watch the movie now.” In rage Shyam cussed under his breath, “Shala.” Then he kept looking at the screen blankly in complete silence. He reasoned with himself that he would invite further trouble if he tried to look for his uncle. The realization also dawned on him that in a few days’ time, scores of his relations would get to know that he has gone insane. Silently, he smiled at himself in the dark and quietly dozed off, resting his head on the back of the seat.
