Who Lives in the Palm Trees? Him, That Or You?

'The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown' — H.P. Lovecraft 

What does a good mystery novel requires? Wait! What does best mystery novels require? The One-Legged has it all. You'll hold the little finger of mystery, all along, but by the end your heart instead is held in a tight grip, clutched by horror. With excellent narrative, superb use of mythology and folklore, and great atmospheric thriller elements, The One-Legged by Sakyajit Bhattacharya is a finely crafted novella. The third person narrator is not limited to mere telling the stories, but takes characters' mood where necessary, fully communicating the intensity in all forms. Well-crafted sentences and paragraphs are as worthy as learning pieces for aspiring writers. Believe me. I have returned back, and read them for more than your fingers can count at once.

"One cannot return from the place where he has gone."

He had no other option, no other sky, no way to mischief – nothing apart from roaming around this giant mansion. Dida was busy inside the pantry while Dadu dozed. The wide beams, tall roof, shuttered windows, the buffalo horns, and the bunch of sharp knives stared at him silently from the locked chambers. A dry draught whooshed in intermittently from the field, penetrating and clawing at his bones.

The perfect characterization is such that even scenes become animated and alive (I'll probably repeat this phrase again). Many novels fail to balance description vs action, failing in the classic tell vs show dilemma. But, The One-Legged has succeeded in walking with a fine balance. Not a single chapter, and not even a single paragraph seems extra. The book is not only well-written but is also well-edited. And, you'll know why when you read it.

Even a palm tree, which serves as a pivot for strange occurrences, a thread of horror, and host to Ekanore, (the apparition which haunts and revolves around the story) seems like a character. The author plays with light, darkness, forest, nature and its elements, and the story seems to be living at the present. And regardless of the short length of the book, characterization and arc of the main character Tunu is simply perfect!

The signs have been planted throughout the story but one wouldn't know before the final pages of the book, which is horrifying, unexpected. The book has one of the best endings I have ever read. The story is perfect for a movie adaptation, like many great stories with already finely woven cinematic details. Use of Bengali mythological deities like Panchu Thakur and Panchu Thakurni, and demon like Jwarasura (fever inducing demon), Yaskhya (an evil spirit that lives in the depths of the water) and folkloric demons like Ekanore has been finely executed.

NOW, I'LL TELL YOU SOMETHING OF THE STORY!

Tunu, an almost nine-year old boy, has been left at his maternal grandparents' home for the first time, far away from his home at Asansol. His parents cannot take him away immediately, and Tunu is not sure why. At his grandparent's home, Tunu sometimes feel loved and overprotected and sometimes ignored by his Dida (grandmother), who is forever lost in the grief of her dead son (Choto Mama/Young Uncle) and her hope in the silences makes the house deserted, forever sodden with sadness. In the isolated mansion, among his Dadu (grandfather), Bishwa mama (uncle), Rina Mamima (Aunty) and Gublu (their ten-month old son) Tunu finds himself lost in his own personal world, left to his own devices.

Several rooms of the mansion have been locked up, but Tunu once finds a room open, the room that belonged to Choto Mam – who deceased twenty years ago – and still has been kept neat and arranged as if somebody lives there or may return soon. Already engrossed or terrified to the core with the story of Ekanore – the one-legged apparition who might have taken his Choto Mama, there is nothing that could hold Tunu from fabricating, conjuring, doubting and exploring truths on his own: of Ekanore's existence at the top of the one-legged palm tree. What Tunu feels in the room is a presence, as if somebody is watching him from behind. There he discovers a yellowish spot on a wall, probably a fungal growth…

"Who knows! They had brought back Dada's body. The truck hit him from the side. There was nothing left of that side of his head; it was all smashed, his brain spilled out, and one eye was hanging out of the socket… But the other side looked fine, as if he were asleep. For days, I dreamt of Dada standing in our room, crying, and trying to fit his eye back in its socket, but failing each time. Tears rolled from his other good eye."

Who could be the one hiding in the room? Who could be the one who's trying to communicate with him? Is Ekanore trying to lure him in his trap? Is there a one-legged Ekanore out there in the one-legged palm tree? Is Tunu having a fever dream? Is Tunu vulnerable and under the influence of the unknown, already a hostage? Is his mind playing tricks on him, to hide his own sins - sins of a child? Or is he paying for the sins committed by others in the past? Is the same fear haunting Tunu just like it haunted his deceased Choto Mama? What is in the house, that hasn't left it in twenty years? What's in the forest, in the village and in the depths of water? Why are there so many child victims? Can terror lead to sins? Can innocence and ignorance shade the inexplicable events? Can terror of the mind and imagination lead to horrific consequences?

SHOULD I TELL YOU MORE?

A parallel story runs in the novella, where a group of boys hiding in the forest are sometimes on a mission to sell stolen fruits to a market or are exploring the forest and the ancient dome as they smoke, and often engage in an altercation, which can heat up and escalate, brewing hatred, inciting vengeance. Among the boys, Baban is from a rich and high caste family, and Debu is a servant at his home. The terror of Ekanore – the one-legged apparition – even pervade the conversation of these friends, and often lead to aggression. Bappa, Choton, Ganesh, Krishna are other members of this group. Does the story of these boys connect with that of Tunu? Are these boys even haunted by Ekanore? What happens of these boys?

NO, I WON'T TELL YOU MORE. BUT, HEAR THIS!

The One-Legged is a work of pure craft. There are parallel intricacies running through the story, which you relish before reaching the end, but when they merge at the last pages, that will horrify you, and satisfy you as a reader.

Tunu's legs were starting to ache as he walked from one corner to the other end of the quiet house. A rush of dry leaves blew in from the garden outside, and the ektere bird called out dully. A certain impassable stillness overcame everything – the garden, the large field beyond, and the forest within which the field ran and hid. The dome, erected under the rule of Raja Madanmalla, was inside the forest. People were hung inside it. The wind blew though the ventilators of the hanger's pillar and whistled at night. Ekanore too called out to people like that; from the palm tree, only one person would hear that cursed cry and walk spellbound across the field. 

… I have been keeping this fear inside since I was a child. The fear that someone would push me off the terrace or pull me into the depths of the pond. But I don't know who… And because I don't know who it is, I fear it even more.

Reading The One-Legged, I was frequently reminded of Poe, and Lovecraft (whom I have quoted at the beginning). Without a doubt, Sakyajit has already mastered the craft of speculative genre. This recreation of folklore elements, with perfect setting, mystery, thriller and terror, and a perfect story to carry all these is definitely a great feat.

We'll be surprised to our core how silence, ignorance and loneliness can fruit into something horrific. Silences could be harbored and so is the terror. A gothic music of piano or cello could easily fit in the story, if you play them in your earphones, as scenes become animated and alive (see, I have repeated it here!). The author has used the setting so well.

The atmospheric setting of the novella – details done in the right amount and at the right spaces – has successfully toned the eerie feel to the narrative, as is expected from the genre, and has been successfully rendered. Narrator has successfully carried the inner voice of the main character, his mood, his thoughts as well as the main flow of the story without distraction… just flawlessly.

The large field was now empty except for a few clumps of bushes and shrubs of varying heights, near and far, stirring in the wind. The forest to which these shrubberies eventually led looked dark, even in the morning. Perhaps no light could intercept its confines. The top of the palm tree was still shadowy, swathed in mist, and if something was indeed watching them from the top, it wouldn't be visible. A spotted beetle crawled pas Tunu's stomach.

Fascination with death, mystery, terror, blurred figures appearing at a distance, stillness, locked rooms, dew-soaked soil, sleeping earth, sodden smell, dripping tap, fungal growth, diseased skin, white tube light, ear melted into a lump of flesh, glowing eyes without faces, an abandoned bus stop, silent long veranda, cold gush of wind, palm tree standing at the edge of the dark field, dirty yellow teeth, the demon of fever crawling down the palm tree, bloodied moon, rotten smell, empty skulls of foxes and cats, snail carcasses, rows of hanging nooses, coal fumes, an army of ants marching to a wound, Voice tinged with winter's night, sound of dripping water on the heap of dried leaves… Good stories come out of the books and the characters possess you, you feel them, and you are taken inside to experience the written words/worlds. Tell good things about it as you like it. It'll make an impression for sure! The One-Legged is one such book. As you are immersed in the reading, the top of the one-legged palm tree, will watch you. Solitary birds will be watching you. It is there, when you close your eyes, your senses are taken over; it is whispering at your nape, but who, what? It's good to be terrified and feel the chill. Isn't it? Now, go and get the book, and come back again. You'll see, why I wrote what and why. An EXCELLENT TRANSLATION! IT'S A DAMN GOOD BOOK! It's already been shortlisted for The JCB Prize for Literature 2024.

Author: Sakyajit Bhattacharya
Original Text: Bengali
Translator: Rituparna Mukherjee
Publisher: Antonym Collections https://www.theantonymmag.com/the-one-legged/  , Imprint: Red Herring 

Source: Review Copy from the Publisher