ALTAB NAGARI-Since 1952

4

Ehsaan came near the shop owner. He genuinely looked kinder and least strange than other people in the colony. The kind man looked at the teenager who just got upset due to being overly-bullied by his peers in the class, as well as the new place that was actually unknown. Secondly, Ehsaan has a sharp memory, as due to it, he could find his way home. Suddenly, it rained and clouds became dark. Ehsaan rushed and hoped inside the shop, as soon as it became empty. The shopkeeper said "every time, when it rains, we sell khichdi for dinner".

Khichdi is a Bengali fried lentil rice, similar to a biryani flavor, where you could eat with beef and mashed potatoes. Anyway, Hablu arrived at the scene "Is this Mr.Sazed? When we'll get the khichdi?"

"We'll wait till like, 9 o clock, now it's like 6 in the afternoon!" said Sazed, the shop owner.

"Then, by now, I'll have some tea. Oh, hang on! Is that the new kid from the Staff-Officer's apartment?" asked Hablu.

"Aah! Yes, dear, Hablu" said Sazed

"Is there anything strange about the Staff-Officer's apartment?" said Ehsaan curiously.

"Altab Nagari has a really different connection with Staff-Officer's apartment. According to the historical nature of this shop, since the Second World War, where Bangladesh was then Pakistan. The British left, but our love for tea and food didn't. It's been started with my father, serving tea where the Brits loved it. His style of cooking was famous with the people, until they left, Pakis were desperate of our cooking style, especially the fritters and the rained khichdi. Before I was born, my mom used my father's recipe after he died, that was totally progressive and way ahead, during that era. In the world where women used to be a chef of the house and men uses to sell it, whereas women raised me to become one. Unfortunately, male chefs are not dignified in some places" said Sazed.

"Mr. Sazed, you have endless stories about the shop. As usual, your tea is quite special" praised Hablu.

"When would you pay my dues?" asked Sazed in deep voice.

"We will, you don't have to worry about it" said Hablu.

Hablu was a lazy brat, who failed a lot of times in school but has quite a mystery through him. Some said, he lost his memory after his university days or rumors sparks that he was bullied and punished so many times, that he read too much of the underrated books or foreign languages such as Latin or French. According to Sazed, his tall-tales might be true but laughable at times. Everyone calls him, 'The Hero of Altab Nagari'.

"Uff! Are you at your tall-tales again?" angered Sazed but quite calm.

"No way, this time, it's true" answered Hablu.

Not again! His constant excuses may close the shop, one day. It may look heartbreaking, but it's reality. Anyway, rain continued to drop more than cats and dogs, even the hailstorm dripped. Hablu heard the thunderstorm. He dropped the tea and covered himself with a sack like a scared cat. He shook as if he was freezing through the slip of ice.

"Don't tell anyone, kid" said Hablu, scared, stupid.

Both Hablu and Sazed chuckled. Hablu shushed them. Ehsaan's mother hoped out from the rickshaw with the umbrella out. She looked at the covered sack. She laughed because of his movements were of a soft cat, playing with a rotten fruit.

"Greetings, aunty" said Hablu, just coming out from the sack.

"Why're you coming out like a cat, dear boy?" asked Mrs. Ahmed

"Umm...nothing much, ma'am...I kind of feelin' cold"

Hablu cleared his throat, hoping out of the rugged sack. Looking at Mrs. Ahmed, he trembled with fear. As it was raining, everything was empty.

"Don't worry, dear. No one's here, except us".

Hablu smiled, as Ehsaan gave a concerned look at him. The shop owner gave Hablu his umbrella. Mrs. Ahmed helped him walking out of the shop that he was going to shiver with freezing cold. Whole situation led to Ehsaan's questions about Hablu's characteristics. How a 30 year old did has a maturity of a teenager? Although, Mrs. Ahmed was kind, what was so special about Hablu? It's pretty curious to know someone extremely mysterious, yet an arrogant character.

"Uncle Sazed, who's this guy?" asked Ehsaan.

"Hablu, off course, a bully but everyone calls him a hero for his loudmouth, looks and with unintended win for football match. His brother, Farhan was one of the brilliant students of the gang but a bad day changed Hablu's life into what he's not: a dropout and a failure. Despite all these, his gang made some unintended wonders!"

"What are those?"

"You'll see"

"But how did you run the shop, if the rates are so low, and people not giving you proper dues?"

"Proper dues? The elder do, but these gang members...Oh gosh! They don't pay much but only that boy...Arhan pays all the dues. He's one of the smartest ones in the gang which made the impossible work"

'Altab Nagari' wasn't any ordinary place, it has some mysteries hidden with a pinch of unintentional situations, which could be a bit...mortifying. Hence, Ehsaan's curiosity increased more. It was just the year 2000s, where the internet wasn't exposed much yet but CDs, cassettes, VHS Tapes, Television and books were still part of the technology. That's why the places had full of aura of uniqueness, where he couldn't find in a 'fully disciplined' Alta Dighi.

The whole situation, implied by Sazed Miyah reminded him of his father, Mr. Ahmed who was not only a professor but a respected man in both Alta Dighi and Altab Nagari. Why? Coming to the background of Alta Dighi, in an otherwise conservative area, he was also a leader of 'Alta Dighi Students-Teacher's Association' but in Altab Nagari, there lied a mystery, which may reveal in this tea stall.

Ehsaan got home after the rain stopped. Mrs. Ahmed just prepared food that quickly got him craved to eat. It was the mashed spicy eggplant flavored with pickles, steamed rice, curried fish with red sauce and mixed vegetables. Its smell made Ehsaan crave for food. When he was about to go to the table, Humayrah commanded "Wash your hands, Ehsaan!"

While his mom coming out of the kitchen, he washed his hands. Various questions were coming to Ehsaan's mind. Both sat together on the dining room, where the smell of food just increased his relishing to eat. While eating, Humayrah asked "what were you doing in the tea stall?"
"I was about to ask you something. Was my father really in that area before I was born?"
"Hmmm...yes, dear son. I think, there are photos of us in the shop that might lead you to the answer"

When Ehsaan was about to ask a question, he realized that it may not be enough, until their dine finishes. After the sumptuous eating, Humayrah took out an old photo album of the 90s. It was less an album, more of a vintage journal book. She opened the book and walked through Ehsaan's room. He was sitting in the bed, thinking of the wonders and secrets to be discovered. What was his mother cooking?

She came near Ehsaan and sat beside him. He took a bit of a look at it, as the bunch of almost distorted black and white photos were stuck with a glue in it. To add on, there were stamp collections at the back of it. Humayrah turned pages of the black-papered album and lastly, she found a huge photo after half of it.

It was two boys and two girls, drinking tea. Ehsaan's dad, Mr. Ahmed may have been married on his late 30s, while Ehsaan saw only a buff version of him.

"Mom, which one's my dad?" asked Ehsaan.

She pointed a man with a square framed spectacle, slimmer than the last time and was laughing while grabbing a tea cup. On the other hand, there was another guy who looked quite similar to Hablu, just leaner and had no mustache by the side. He instantly recognized the fair lady as his mom, who still looked younger... She aged well. Both mother and son looked at each other with a pinch of happiness, while the former reminiscing old memories, the later just exploring something new.

"Mom, who are the other two? One of them resembled Hablu" asked Ehsaan curiously.

"It's Hablu's dad. I remember while his brother, Sobhan was at your age, we left. Then we got married late" explained Humayrah.

Drizzling raindrops stepped into the love of nostalgia. The odor of the khichdi has exhilarated Ehsaan but ignored, because he was least hungry about it. They further stepped through the photo album.