“He raped a girl, sir. Over.” The walkie-talkie crackled. “Didn’t you hear me? The minister says let him go. Over.” “He raped and killed a girl, sir. Over.” “Just let him go. He’s the minister’s vote bank. Over and out.” A low chuckle issued from the jail in the corner of the room. “What did I tell you?” inquired a young voice. “Tiger Timur can’t be kept behind bars.” The room was lit by a hurricane lamp. The corners of the room lay in darkness. The hurricane lamp illuminated the top of a table, revealing wax and ink stains. A smell of kerosene, mingled with that of sweat, hung in the air. A rifle lay across the notched surface of the table. Sub-inspector Rafik’s face was barely visible. He was seated at the table. He put the walkie-talkie down, opened a drawer and took out some papers and a pen. They were in the middle of the Sundarban mangrove forest, at Koromjol. The forest lay silent around them, as though expecting the Royal Bengal tiger to come out at any moment. But nothing came out into the opening. The police station stood on concrete poles, as much for the beasts as the water from the labyrinthine branches of the rivers. The River Poshur flowed close by. There was no moon. Inside, it was hot. There were only two small, barred windows at the top of the walls. Perspiration dripped from Rafik’s forehead; he loosened the collar of his khaki shirt. There were no generators here. He began to write. But he found it difficult to concentrate. He hadn’t been surprised by the minister’s order. The lawlessness began when Bangladesh became democratic. At first, he had welcomed the violence: it was a chance to make more money, take more bribes. He had asked to be transferred to Koromjol because there were river pirates here: he could extort money from them. Of course, he had to pay a sizable sum to purchase the post. But now there was the girl. Her remains were found in the jungle by woodcutters. The head had remained intact, the rest had been gnawed by the local man-eater. Tiger Timur and his gang of boys let the girl loose into the forest. Which was the jungle, he wondered. The tigers and snakes seemed human compared to the beasts in the towns and villages. “We picked her up at Morelgonj. She said she wanted to come here, to Koromjol. So we said we’d give her a ride. We tied her up inside the boat, and we had a go at her, one after another. It wasn’t all pleasure, mind you. It was part of my work. We traveled by boat, and when we came to a village, we would stop so they could hear the girl scream. They don’t call me Tiger Timur for nothing. I have to earn my reputation. If I go to a village and tell them for whom to vote, they will do exactly as they are told. Otherwise, they know that some of their boys would disappear or some of their girls wouldn’t want to get back.” He chuckled again. A tuctoo lizard began to call: tuc-too, tuc-too.... For a few minutes there was only the sound of the lizard outside and the scratching of the pen inside. The lizard stopped. A deer barked in the distance. A firefly floated into the room, its blue light blinking. The pen continued to scratch across paper. His hand was damp with perspiration. His mouth tasted bitter. “Hey, sub-inspector, why don’t you let me out of the cage? You’re going to have to let me go in the morning, anyway.” A roar erupted through the forest. “What’s that? It’s the tiger, isn’t it? It’s the man-eater!” Rafik continued to write – he had heard the tiger countless times in the last few weeks. In fact, he had included the tiger in his plans this afternoon when he let the constable go on leave, even though no request was made. Silence descended again, like a smothering blanket. The pen stopped scratching. Rafik picked up the rifle and the keys. He unlocked the cell. “That’s more like it, sub-inspector.” “Get out!” “What do you mean?” “Get out of here. Outside.” “You must be crazy! The minister will have your job.” “I’ve been writing out a report about how I let you go in the morning. A boat comes at 10:00, but it didn’t pick you up.” Rafik leveled the rifle at Tiger Timur. “There’s a man-eater out there!” “Open the door and get out.” Tiger Timur unbolted the door. The odour of a strange flower greeted them. There was nothing to be seen outside. The boy descended the steps. He began to cry. “Please! Please! I beg you, don’t send me into the jungle!” Rafik bolted the door. Through the silent night, he heard a female voice call to him. “Bhaiya! Bhaiya!” “Brother! Brother!” He sat back, and waited for the screams.

Last night I went To the paddy fields To relieve myself The moon was full And the paddy glowed It murmured in the wind The night was hot Then I heard the boys I could see them But they couldn’t see me Where I was squatting The girl was begging them And they were laughing They ripped off her clothes And lifted their lungis And took turns I recognised them They were boys from The ruling party The MP's vote bank Finally, when they were Satisfied they pulled out A knife that gleamed In the moonlight They slit her throat When the boys were Gone I crept out And ran I didn’t tell the police The police know, Anyway, but they Dare not do anything Besides, if I told the Police, they would kill Me, like the girl

the boat was a black parenthesis on the silver of the river water hyacinths odoured the air the breeze flapping against our ears played on drums i touched the moon and it broke in the water my friend and her lover spoke in undertone as the steersman paddled and the oar swished rose and dipped lovers never feel the heat and the humidity my back was wet but the wind fanned my body my sweet guava disappeared bite by bite on either bank a carpet of argent lay carelessly spread no oil-lamp signalled a villager awake but the darkling trees stood like forbidding fingers we turned towards the ghat and i was glad for the boat was hard i had come to deceive her parents they didn’t know about the tryst only that she's going out to the bazaar a pair of screech owls sat on a naked bough atop a tree screeching the ghat was dark only a hurricane lamp burned and in its light i made out terrifying he was a student leader of a party he was powerful he had proposed to my friend and she had rejected him i slipped on the mud and fell on my face i was lucky i only heard them scream he had thrown acid into their faces i saw the owls take fright and fly into the moon

one day you’ll meet somebody who will kiss you everywhere meanwhile you wear your hijab close some secrets are too beautiful for the world’s eyed fingers

what is the word for evil in my language? what was the word for evil in the Persian tongue, my language before the English came before the English conquered? no native word has ever echoed the sound before the English came and conquered and departed and we learned the word because we learnt the rules like a game of cricket

For the last half hour, I watched the Marma girls bathe in the Chengi I watched the first in a red-and-blue thami that rose from ankle to armpits (leaving her shoulders bare) soap herself. Then she entered the water, only her dark head finally visible. A companion joined her, and soon two dark heads emerged above the rippling stream. One rose, like Venus, and began to tighten her thami – telling me that she (like her friend) had been naked under water. O how hot was the day!