The wanderer

(Translated from Bangla by Zaynul Abedin) It all happened when we were living in the teachers' quarter of Shahidullah Hall, Dhaka University. One afternoon during lunch, someone knocked on the door. Since we only heard the knock, not the ringing of the doorbell, we assumed it must be a beggar. What could be a more propitious time for begging for food? But when I opened the door, I saw a big dog standing there. It was much bigger than the native breeds. I asked my wife to give him some food. As soon as he finished the food, he went away. Next day the dog came back right at lunchtime! He was given food, again, and he kept appearing every day. My youngest daughter once pointed out, “Baba, the dog always arrives here at 2 o’clock.” Dogs certainly do not wear a wrist watch to keep track of time. How could the dog be right on time? But I noticed, to my surprise, this dog was always here at 2 o’clock. Animals must have some innate mechanism of their own to make sense of time. Foxes come up with their howling calls every three hours in the night; geckos cry twice exactly at midnight. I concluded the dog must have had its own innate way to keep track of time and that's how he was showing up exactly at the same time at our door every day. We invited some friends to show this mysterious incident and they were totally taken aback. It so happened that we found ourselves waiting for the clock to strike two in the afternoon when the dog arrived. But he would not appear every day. Sometimes he would not come for four or five days. Then all on a sudden, someday, he was there again, knocking on the door with his head, exactly when the clock struck two.

Dogs never feel surprised. Who knows? They have been familiar with the cruelty of human beings since time immemorial. Why should they feel surprised at all?

We did not know his whereabouts. No matter where he lived, we could realize only by looking at his health that he was not in trouble. He never appeared to be hungry for there were times when he would not touch any food having arrived at our door at two o’clock. It would seem as if he had come to meet somebody, but not to eat anything. We named the dog, "Wanderer." We gave him this English name as we could not find any appropriate Bangla equivalent for him. But the dog stopped coming all on a sudden. A little before two in the afternoon, we found ourselves waiting for him. But he did not come. My children would confuse every knock on the door to be his. If anyone knocked on the door at that time, they would rush to open it to let him in. But, to their dismay, they found it was not Wanderer. It was someone else. The absence of Wanderer prompted a wild speculation in us. We began to worry: What happened to Wanderer? Did any vehicle run him over? Or did the municipal authorities catch him and take him away? Many days later, Wanderer arrived at our door, putting an end to all of our speculation. He had a menacing air about him. He stood drooling saliva out of his mouth, his eyes bloodshot. He would occasionally let out a muffled wailing. The last time he had come, he was hale and hearty. But now he was here, carrying mortal rabies! When people chased him, he found his way into our house and that too at 2 o’clock, his usual arrival time. With his canine logic and emotion, he must have rationalized that the residents of the house would give him shelter. That they would not rebuke him. And that he would be able to die here in peace. We locked ourselves in while Wanderer kept standing outside, letting out his occasional muffled groaning and hitting the door with his head. We could also see his menacing look through the peephole on the front door. We found ourselves marooned. When the security guards of the hall got the news, they arrived with sticks and Wanderer was beaten to death in front of the hall. I took my three daughters to the veranda, and from there together we saw this killing scene! He directed his unblinking gaze toward us, his eyes full of wonder. Or was it just a figment of our imagination? Dogs never feel surprised. Who knows? They have been familiar with the cruelty of human beings since time immemorial. Why should they feel surprised at all?[This is a translation of “His master’s voice” from Atmajaibanik Rachanashamagra (A collection of autobiographical writings) by Humayun Ahmed, published by Pratik]

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Zaynul Abedin teaches English at the University of Dhaka.