The Autograph of Mirkhai
By Humayun Ahmed
Translated by Soheed Sorwar

Nitu’s eldest uncle Zahedur Rahman is Headmaster of Nilganj High School.

Nitu likes him very much. He is not like other headmasters, does not ask lessons, does not look grave, does not get annoyed if someone laughs a little. He tells stories if you ask. Those are beautiful stories, but Nitu knows, all these are made up.

Nitu does not like made up stories. She wants to hear real stories.

Nitu loves to hear stories, but she gives her condition, it must be true story.

Today, Nitu’s uncle, Zahedur Rahman has started a ghost story.

He has a bowl of puffed rice in front. Tea in a large cup. He is taking puffed rice and giving sip to the tea. Nitu is lying in front of him. She is holding her head on two hands and looking sharply at his uncle, is he telling a true story or a made up one. She will not listen to made up stories. She is not very old. She is in class three. But she is very intelligent. She can easily find truth and false in stories. The other day their house maid was telling her a story-

‘Once there lived a tiger. He was fatigued at the chill of January.

‘He went to a cloth shop and said, dear bro, give me a warm shawl, I’m suffering in the chill...’

Nitu rebuked the housemaid. She said firmly, ‘Haven’t I told you not to say made up stories? It’s a made up story.’

The maid said, ‘Which part is made up?’

‘Can a tiger talk? Can it go out shopping?’

‘What you say is true sis,... but....’

‘Ok, you don’t have to tell me story.’

Nitu is very careful. None can trick her. Not even her uncle. Even if he tries, she will certainly find it out.’

Nitu said, ‘Ok uncle, what happened next?’

Zahedur Rahman said, ‘Let me finish the snack first.’

‘No, you will eat and talk.’

Zahedur makes a long sip in the tea and said, ‘Then I was much young. I was looking for a job. I came to know that Chittagong Port school would hire a math teacher.’

‘Uncle, is this a made up story?’

‘Impossible. How can I tell a false story. Have you ever seen a school headmaster to lie?’

‘Ok, carry on.’

‘How far did I go?’

‘You were much young....’

‘Oh, yes. I came to know Chittagong Port School would hire an English teacher....’

‘Uncle, you said a math teacher a while ago. You’ve started a made up story.’

‘No my dear, they’d take a teacher, he’d teach both math and English. Got it?’

‘Hmm.’

‘I attended the interview and got the job. The salary was good. I rented a big house by Karnaphuly river. House rent was very cheap. One could rent a big mansion for two to three hundred taka.’

‘What’s a mansion, uncle?’

‘Mansion is kind of a palace.’

‘You lived in a palace?’

‘It was a palace for a poor guy. Two bedrooms. A living room. Long balcony. Two storied house. The tax office was in the ground floor. I lived in the upper floor. Lots of light and air. Everything a sea house may have.’

‘Uncle, you said it was a river house.’

‘It was where the Karnaphully falls into the sea. So you can call it a river house, or sea house. From the balcony, you can see the bay in the south and river in the west. Got it?’

‘Hmm. What happened next?’

‘The house was out of the town. In the daytime, lot of people would come to the tax office. In the evening, everything is very desolate.’

‘What’s desolate, uncle?’

‘Desolate means very quiet. Silent. Terribly silent.’

‘Then what?’

‘Well, you know what happened one day? I was stuck with some work in the office, and got very late to return...’

‘Why do you say office, you were a school teacher.’

‘My dear, there’s office in the school too. After the classes, there was meeting with headmaster in the office, which caused the delay. That’s why I said office.’

‘Ok.’

‘I usually take the lunch out. I cook my supper. I cook some rice, make some potato mash, and make an egg scrabble. It’s really tasty when you spread pure butter oil on hot rice and mashed potato.’

‘I want to eat rice with butter oil and mashed potato.’

‘Now?’

‘Hmm.’

‘You just had your meal. It’s not a good thing to feel hungry when you hear of foods, feel scared when you hear of ghosts. These are signs of a complicated disease.

‘It’s called ‘hear disease. When you suffer this disease, hearsay will ruin you...’

‘You’ve stopped the story and talking something else...’

‘I didn’t start this. You brought in new things. Ok, let’s begin the story. Where were we? Well, my house was in a place which gets very quiet after sunset. That day my home was even quieter. I was getting back home after having supper at a restaurant...’

‘Uncle, you just said, you had your supper with rice, butter oil and mashed potato.’
‘It’s really a pain to tell you stories. You start interrogation before I have finished. If you have any question ask me later. I wanted to make my meal home. When I went to cook, I found the stove wasn’t working. There was not a drop of kerosene in it. I had to go out to eat at a restaurant.’
‘That’s ok.’
‘The restaurant was a bit far. About three kilometers. Took an hour to reach. I was getting back after my supper. About nine o’clock in the night. An empty street. Very windy, I felt chilled. I had a shawl with me. I covered with shawl and was walking. Suddenly I felt someone was walking with me holding a corner of the shawl. I looked around and found none. Must be a mistake. But I felt it clearly, whenever I walked, someone walked with me holding the shawl. When I stopped, it let go the shawl. I was outwitted. What the hell! Was it something to do with the shawl? I took off the shawl, folded it and put on my shoulder. I’d ignore the chill. Now none can find a corner and pull that.

‘I got really startled as I started again. Someone was walking along holding the little finger of my left hand. But I looked around and found none. ‘

Nitu said in a scared voice, ‘Uncle, who was holding your finger?’

‘I didn’t know it first. But it was holding my finger quite tightly. Seemed like a little kid. Softy hand. Cold and soft. I thrashed away the hand. I went two steps when it held me again.’

Nitu said in timid tone, ‘Uncle, I feel scared.’

Zahedur Rahman said, ‘You’re little scared. But I was so scared that it had no limit. I was sweating. My heartbeats were fast. I felt like, I should run.’

‘What did you do? Did you run?

‘No, I didn’t. My sandal shoes were old. The straps were soft. They would tear if I ran. I lighted a cigarette.’

‘Why did you light a cigarette, uncle?’

‘Cigarette has fire. Ghosts and spirits keep away from fire.’

‘Was that a ghost uncle?’

‘No, it wasn’t a ghost. It was a fost kid.’ Nitu said with wonder, ‘What’s a fost kid?’

‘Don’t we always say, tiger-figer, ghost-fost? Like a tiger cub, there’s figer cub. Like a ghost kid, there’s fost kid.’

‘How are they, uncle?

‘Terrible. Even the ghosts are terrified of them, let alone people. You’ll find no ghost in the three quarter miles of a fost kid.’

‘How do they look like?’

‘How’ll I know? They are not visible.’

‘Can we feel them?’

‘We certainly can.’

‘What happened next, uncle?’

“I was scared. But I collected myself and shouted aloud, ‘Who’s that?’

‘Why did you shout, uncle?’

‘To get rid of scare. If you’re very scared, you must shout. The louder you shout, the better you feel.’

‘Did you shout very loud?’

‘Terribly loud. I got scared at my own shout. Then I heard someone speak in a very timid voice. Not very clear. I said, ‘Who talks?’

‘Me?’

‘Who’s me? What’s your name?’

‘I’m Mirkhai.’

‘Who are you? Ghost?’

‘No, sir. I’m not a ghost, I’m a fost.’

‘Why are you pulling my finger? Trying to scare me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Why?’

The fost kid starts a loud cry. I said, ‘What’s up? Why are you crying?’ It says nothing, cry gets louder.

I felt pity. I could not get the things clearly. I must know why it was crying.

‘Uncle, did he have tummy pain?’

‘I couldn’t yet know, but it could be tummy pain. Kids can cry for tummy pain. Or it can be something else. May be it got lost. Small kids often lose their way back home and starts crying. I said, ‘Hey, have you got lost?’

‘No.’

‘Tummy pain?’

‘No.’

‘Has anyone bullied you?’

‘No.’

‘Then tell me what happened. Stop crying and tell me.’ Fost kid was sobbing, ‘I failed an exam.’

‘Really?’

Nitu said, ‘Uncle, do fosts have their school?’

‘They certainly have. Primary schooling is a must for them.’

‘What do they learn?’

‘Everything. Maths, geography, history, religion...’

‘Which one did it fail?’

‘In the subject of scaring.’

‘What’s that?’

‘All ghost and fost kids must sit for a 100 marks exam on scaring. In this exam, they scare people. If someone can’t scare people, he fails. It’s dangerous to fail in scaring. If one fails in scaring, he has failed in all subjects. Mirkhai couldn’t scare anyone. He failed twice in row.’

‘Poor kid,’ Nitu said.

‘That day he had an exam. He’d scare me. If I got scared, he’d pass. If I won’t get scared, he’d fail. It’d be three fails in a row. He’d be expelled from school.’

‘How terrible!’

‘Very terrible.’

‘Why were you not scared uncle. A little scare won’t harm you.’

‘I also decided so, I thought I’d be so scared, it’d be a big news in the entire fost society. Mirkhai would not only pass, he’d get moon marks.’

‘What’s moon mark?’

‘If you get eighty out of hundred its star marks. If you get more than ninety, its moon mark. Whatever, I asked, ‘Mirkhai, when is your exam?’

‘Mirkhai said, ‘After midnight. Principal sir will come, other sirs also. I’ll scare you. If you’re scared, I’ll pass, if not....’

‘Mirkhai again starts crying. I said, ‘Stop crying, Mirkhai. No more crying. I’ll make you pass your exam today. I’ll get so scared that you’ll be surprised.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. Bring everyone along. Now wipe your eyes. Don’t cry too much. Go home.’

‘What happened next?’

‘Let’s stop here today. How about finishing it tomorrow?’

‘That’s a very bad idea uncle. You must finish it today, right now. What did they do? Did they come to your place?’

‘Hmm.’
‘At twelve o’clock?’
‘At one past twelve. Mirkhai came with a big pack of fosts. His dad and mom were also with him. They came to see if their son could pass his exam.’

‘What did you do then?’

‘I lied on the bed pretending to be sleeping. I was also snoring, so that they don’t know it was my false sleep. But my ears were open, I could understand everything. The fost kid entered through the window, I could feel that. His teachers were all at the window, I also felt that. Fost kid whispered in my ear, ‘Uncle, I’ve come.’

‘He called you uncle?’

‘He didn’t call earlier. Suddenly he started to call.’

‘I think he liked you, so he called you uncle.’

‘Could be. Then fost kid said, ‘Uncle, I’ve come to scare you.’ I said, ‘Very good. Start your show.’ Fost kid said, ‘How?’

‘I said, ‘First, take away my blanket with a sudden pull. Then poke my feet. Then I’ll shout out. You’ll giggle at my shout. Then you’ll close the window shuts. Then open. Then close again. Then I’ll turn on the light. You’ll turn it off. Whenever I’ll turn on light, you’ll turn off. Each time you’ll giggle.’ Fost kid said, ‘Ok.’ Then he took off my blanket with a pull.

‘I sat on the bed. He started poking my feet.

‘I shouted, ‘Who pokes my feet? Who’s there?’

‘Then the sound of loud giggles. I groaned in fear. Then the light keeps turning on and off. I cried out, ‘Ghost, ghost, save me. Where’s everyone. Please save me. The ghosts are killing me. I’m getting killed.’

‘Fost kid himself got scared at my yelling. He whispered to me, ‘Uncle, are you really scared?’

‘I said, ‘Don’t waste time talking. Now throw things from the table. Don’t touch the glass wares. I may cut leg. Bump my books on the floor.’

‘All my books were bumped on the floor. I was jumping around the room like a circus clown. I yelled, ‘What’s going on! What’s going on! The ghosts are killing me. Save me. Where’s everyone?’

‘I switched on the light. Mirkhai turned it off at once. I cried out, ‘What’s going on? Why’s the light going off! I turned on the light again. Mirkhai again put it out. I gave a big cry and fell on the floor groaning.

‘The principal said, ‘Enough, that’s enough. Stop. That guy may die. Seems like he had a heart attack. Mirkhai, you’ve passed. Not only a pass, you’ve scored moon marks. Very good. Very good. Now, let’s go.’

‘Mirkhai whispered at my ear, ‘Uncle, I’m going.’

‘I said, ‘Ok. Listen, give mind to studies.’

Nitu said, ‘Uncle, is the story over?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is it a true story?’

‘Certainly it is.’

‘Do you still meet Mirkhai?’

‘Yes. Sometimes he comes.’
‘What does he do now?’

‘Now he’s a big shot among ghosts and fosts. He teaches at Fost University. Associate Professor. He wrote four books. The books made him famous.’

‘What are these books?’

‘His books are on scaring the people. He earned such fame in scaring, later he did higher study in that subject, did his research. He also got a Ph.D. in that subject. None among the fosts know more tricks of scaring people than him. He’s a very learned fost.’

‘Really uncle?’

‘Yes. He has a book, a text in Fost University - "Easy, Complex and Complicated Tricks to Scare People." He has another book which was translated in many languages. A very difficult book, "Outline of Fear."

‘Has he written anything for the kids?’

‘He has a book for the school students, "Scaring is a Child’s Play" If you want to talk to him, I can invite him here...’

‘No uncle. There’s no need.’

‘If you want his autograph, give me your autograph book, I’ll bring his autograph.’

Zahedur Rahman brought Mirkhai’s autograph in Nitu’s autograph book.

Nitu looked in the book, ‘Uncle, I don’t see anything written here.’

Zahedur Rahman yawns, ‘How’ll you see it! Mirkhai’s hand writing is invisible like him.’

‘What’s written here?’

‘It reads, "To dear Nitu. Nitu, win your fear, Mirkhai." keep the book carefully. It’s not easy to get autograph of a fost.’

Nitu keeps her autograph book with great care. She shows it whenever a guest comes to her house.