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Chapter 10 - Chapter 10: Fragments of a Dying Land

Chapter 10: Fragments of a Dying Land

After returning home (Rashmi's house), Fayes found a tall man with a large beard greeting him warmly.

"So, you're the 'Mr. Savior' my niece was talking about? I have to say, you look more childlike—younger than I imagined."

Who will make this man understand the truth—that I'm actually 23, at least mentally.

"Hello, sir. May I know who you are?"

"You're polite, unlike your peers. I'm Liton, the uncle of the girl you're staying with."

Fayes became embrassed.

"I have to leave this house soon. Otherwise, I'll soon become a lolicon for sure."

"Let's get inside. I'd like to have a long chat with you."

"Sure. I was about to suggest the same thing."

When entering the home, Mr. Liton cautiously noticed the two girls behind Fayes but refrained from commenting.

They stepped onto the balcony, where Rashmi served tea.

"So, I heard you went to take control of the textile mill. Are these two girls from there?"

Skeptical about the situation, Mr. Liton asked.

Fayes gave a brief explanation of what happened.

"You people are really something. One of you even sacrificed himself to save a girl. Mr.Siraj was a real hero indeed."

Mr. Liton sighed softly.

Not wanting to continue the conversation Fayes changed the topic.

"What about you, Mr. Liton? Where did you serve?"

You've got the wrong impression. I only covertly supported a guerrilla force. The army caught me..."

"You're an honest and humble man. Even collaborators from Razakar, Al-Badar, and the Shanti Committee are changing their colors these days. Yet here you are, recognized as a freedom fighter, still refusing to claim it."

Fayez's compliment carried sincerity.

If there was one thing Bangladesh had in abundance, it was opportunists. Their ideologies and political stances shifted like the wind—the moment the ruling party changed, so did their allegiances.

The country had witnessed this cycle repeat endlessly: after the 1971 war, the armed coups of 1975–1985, the anti-fascist movement of 1991, even the July uprising of 2024. Opportunists merely swapped their masks and clung to power.

Post-1971, collaborators of the Pakistani army buried their pasts and flocked to the Awami League. With money, influence, and—most crucially—the sycophantic skill of "buttering up higher-ups like dogs" (a signature talent of Bengali politicians and bureaucrats), they scaled the ladder and embedded themselves in the ruling class.

The very people complicit in genocide and mass rape became the representatives of their victims. The government vowed to publish lists of collaborators, yet 55 years later, not a single list had seen the light of day.

"Well, changing colors is the norm in this country," Mr. Liton remarked, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Fayez, eager to avoid unnecessary conversation, cut to the chase:

"whatever, I'll be direct. I want you to resume your role as general manager of the textile factory."

"I can do that—but are you certain about reopening it? The investment required will be substantial. The machines are likely rusted through, and cotton is scarce right now."

Mr. Liton's sharp, skeptical gaze bore into him.

"There's bound to be cotton stockpiled in Dhaka's warehouses. As for machinery, we can 'liberate' some from Narayanganj."

Narayanganj hadn't just been the textile heart of Bengal—it had supplied fabrics to Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. Its quality was legendary.

Yet, thanks to the British pirates' "dumping strategy," Bengal's industries—once the economic powerhouse of the world—had been reduced to ruins in barely a century.

The British had thoroughly destroyed the economic powerhouse of the world beyond repair. Thus, the only thing abundant in Bangladesh is its population - but thanks to government policy, they're pathetically unskilled. What should be our pillar of national economy is nothing but liability now.

"You'll need a big transportation network if you want to sort this out. Do you have that?" Liton asked, his skepticism evident.

Fayez showed confidence. "Those things will be arranged soon. That's not enough. You should arrange skilled workforce. These women can work as manual laborers, but what about technicians?"

After thinking it through, Liton replied: "It's best to hire them from Narayonganj. There's still more families there who continued their ancestors' legacy. They'd be best choice."

"Okay then. I'll give you initial 5%stake and management right of factory. You can have another 5% after working 3 years."

'You shouldn't keep entire pie. It's best to share with others. '

". It's been pleasure to meet you. I'm going to meet someone.I hope you pay visit to the textile factory. May Allah bless you."

"May Allah bless you too, young man."

Liton reciprocated with a soft smile and left the room.

'So i need a logistics now. The factory matters can be handled by roshni's uncle anyway'

Meanwhile, Roshni and Mousumi sat at dining table. An almond silence lingered between them before Roshni tried to break it.

"I heard from that childish guy you're from Jaydebpur. How's it look like? I never visited once."

The question backfired. Tears gathered in Mousumi's eyes reflecting the mild afternoon light.

Shouldn't have asked that, Roshni realized. Anything about her past is painful. He changed subject: "How's the food? Does it taste good?"

"It's good. Thanks for feeding me for free. I don't have money but I'll do anything to repay your kindness." Mousumi said earnestly while wiping her tears.

Why the hell she is acting like a crybabay ? I heard she was strong back in factory, Robin thought

Noticing a kid beside her, Roshni asked aloud 

"Who this little princess might be? You look like same age as arif. He'd love to have a new friend"

"i'm Sumaiya.Thanks for the delicious meal"

"Sumi... did you get lost while playing? Don't you miss your parents?"

"My parents told me we had to flee. They were so fast I couldn't catch up. A tall stranger took me to a safe place... and told me not to run around before leaving me all alone" Her voice trailed off.

'So there's still some good soldier left out there.oh! Fayez and his friends are soldiers too'- Thinking about Fayez made her flustered.

Sumi focused on eating. "I've searched everywhere but couldn't find them. Yesterday I heard gunshots from the factory so I went there." 

Mousumi suddenly asked: "What's your relationship with Fayez? Are you two related?"

Robin hesitated. Does he see me as a friend or an acquaintance?

"We're friends, why ?"

"Sorry for asking out of the blue. Forget it." Mousumi backtracked.

"No need. Let's go to the garden. I've surprise for you."

......

Fayez was sipping a cup of tea and listening to the "Shadhin Bangla Betar Kendro" on the radio-

Captain sighed deeply-

"You're trying to profit by reopening industries while others profit from forced prostitution and slavery. The goals are the same but the method is different.. Most ironically, they might have solid backing."

"Let bygones be bygones, Captain. We can't do anything about it. Let's concentrate on our own business" 

-Fayez wasn't naive enough to think of himself hero of justice.

Captain said casually while tuning radio: "Bought some weapons. Spent most money on trucks - 250 rupees each."

" You have my thanks. I need those now more than anything."

"All politicians are returning. You should hurry."

"You give those cunt politicians too much credit. They couldn't stabilize the nation even within a year."

Post-war government would be made up of politicians elected in election of 1970 election with Bangabandhu as figurehead, Intelligent figures like Tajuddin Ahmed( first prime minister) would be a minority drowned out by the majority of demagogues who promised utopia to people while living lavishly off people's expense. Even if they formed a government, they'd be powerless. Only after disarming soldiers and the return of the Indian army, will they be able to hold power.

"When will you receive those?" Captain asked.

"Need them urgently but have no truck drivers. Any suggestions?"

"I know an old man who lost his entire family in war. He used to drive those trucks and was recently discharged. I will talk things out with him. "

"So that settles the matter. You know famine's coming?"- Fayez said nonchalantly while his eyes were directed at the window looking at a distant field.

"By winter certainly. But within a year, our production should recover. This land has always been fertile, no?"

Since ancient times, the geographic position, fertile land, and pleasant climate have made Bengal a highly prosperous nation. Surplus food, cash crops, luxury items, and textiles were exported, making it one of the, if not the richest nation.

"I don't think the food problem can be easily solved."

All fields are devastated, looted; many farmers and workers died; and there's an upcoming natural calamity—food scarcity would create famine in 1972 and 1973.

"I hope you can help me import food through the border."

"So you now want to be a smuggler. Well, I'll take care of those military officers. Make sure not to go through Kustia or Jessore. Northern border would be a better option."

Captain said narrowing his gaze.

Foyez put the empty cup on the table and stood tall, ready to leave the room. "Thanks for your cooperation, Captain. The rest is up to me."

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