Read Bonkubabu's Friend: An unpublished translation by Satyajit Ray of his story of an alien-human friendship

Satyajit Ray (1921-1992), apart from being a filmmaker extraordinaire, was also a stellar designer, music composer, illustrator and writer. Much like the unique aesthetics of his films, Ray’s writings offered premises and milieus often unexplored in Indian literature, especially children fiction. He gave us some of the most iconic characters, such as Feluda and Professor Shonku, whose books are loved and revered by millions of readers even today. Marking the birth centennial of the legend, Three Rays: Stories from Satyajit Ray_, is the first book in ‘The Penguin Ray Library’ series. With more than 40 previously unpublished stories, autobiographical writings and illustrations by Ray himself,_ Three Rays opens a window to the brilliance and creative genius of the renaissance man. The following short story, Bonkubabu’s Friend has been excerpted from Three Rays and reproduced here on Firstpost with due permission from the publishers, Penguin Random House India. The Bengali story was originally published in the magazine Sandesh (February 1962) as Bonkubabur Bondhu_. The English translation by Satyajit Ray, hitherto unpublished, has been transcribed from Ray’s literary notebook. This story was also the inspiration behind a film_ (The Alien) that Ray never made. It is also alleged that Steven Spielberg’s ET and Close Encounters of the Third Kind borrowed concepts from Ray’s script.

***

Nobody had ever seen Bonkubabu lose his temper. In fact, it was hard to guess how he would behave or what he would do or say if he did lose his temper. And yet, it was not as if there were no reasons for him to be angry. For twenty-two years he had been teaching Geography and Bengali at the Kankurgachi Primary School and all these years Bonkubabu has been the victim of their jokes and pranks: drawing his caricatures on the blackboards, sticking chewing gum on his chair, setting firecrackers on him in the night of Kalipuja — had persisted all these years. But Bonkubabu never lost his temper. At best he would clear his throat and say, ‘You mustn’t do that, you know.’ One reason, of course, was that if in a fit of temper he was to quit his job he would be hard put to find another job at his age. Another was that in a class full of naughty boys there were always exceptions every time. He would make friends with them, and the pleasure he got out of teaching them was enough to make his job worthwhile. In his free time, he would invite these boys over to his house. He gave them sweetmeats in a brass bowl and told them wonderful stories from all unknown and faraway places. Stories about Africa, about the discovery of the Poles, about the flesh-eating fish of Brazil, and the continent of Atlantis which had sunk in the ocean — all these Bonkubabu told in a most captivating way. On Saturday and Sunday evenings Bonkubabu would go to zamindar Sripati Majumder’s house. He has often thought that this would be the last visit. Because while he could put up with the pranks of small boys, scuffing by grownups he found hard to take. The evening sessions at Majumder’s, the jokes at his expense sorely tried his patience. Hardly a couple of months ago, they were talking about ghosts. Usually Bonkubabu didn’t open his mouth, but on that day he suddenly found himself saying he didn’t believe in ghosts. And that did it. It was too good an opportunity for the people to pass up. So Bonkubabu had to put up with some nasty pranks on his way back home. As he was passing under a tamarind tree in Mitra’s orchard, a thin lanky man all blackened with soot pounced upon him. This was doubtless a planned move of one of the elderly pranksters. Although he was not scared, he was hurt physically. The pain in his shoulder persisted for three days. What was worse, his new shirt was not only soiled but also got badly ripped. A strange gesture indeed! And there were other small annoyances like his shoes and umbrella hidden away, taking out the spices from his paan and putting false ones in their place, forcing a song out of him… Even then he had to go to those weekend meets. Otherwise what would Mr Majumder think? Not only he was the most respected man in the village, but he was also harmful to turn and twist things his own way. On top of that, Bonkubabu’s presence at his sessions was a must for him. He said you must have someone whom you could laugh at and who could be the butt of all jokes, or else what is a party? So Bonkubabu had to come. The conversation this evening was on a celestial level; satellites were being discussed. Today just after sunset a moving light had been seen in the northern sky.The same sort of light was also seen three months ago. Later it was learned that it was a Soviet satellite — drop-off or kick-off or some such name. It was said that the satellite was revolving around the earth at an altitude of four hundred miles and providing scientists with a lot of new information. Today the light was first seen by Bonkubabu. He has then pointed it out to Nidhubabu. But when Bonkubabu came to Majumder’s, he found that Nidhubabu had already taken the credit himself and was bragging about it. Bonkubabu said nothing. Nobody in the present company there knew much about satellites, but one didn’t need a ticket to talk about it, nor was it considered embarrassing to do so, and everybody was adding his bit to the conversation. Chandibabu said, ‘When all is said and done, people like us merely shouldn’t poke our noses into satellites. To us they are no more real than the jewel in the serpent’s head. Somewhere in some corner of the heaven somebody sees a blurred light, the papers write about it, and you sit at home chewing paan and go all hysterical over it. As if you owned it; and the claps belong to you.’ Ramkanai was the youngster in the group. He said, ‘It may not belong to us, but it certainly belongs to mankind. Mankind resides above all. Look at the ultimate truth.’ ‘Oh that’s simple,’ said Chandibabu, ‘you don’t expect a monkey to make a satellite, do you?’ Nidhubabu the pleader said, ‘Very well. Leave satellites. Satellites don’t have people in them. It’s just a machine which goes revolving. Tops do that too. You press a switch and fans do that too. But what about rockets? That’s something we can’t take lightly.’ Chandibabu wrinkled his nose and said, ‘Rockets? What’s there to talk about rockets? It would make some sense if they made one here and shoot it up to the moon from the maidan and we went and paid for ringside seats and see it go up. To me a rocket is as real as a mare’s nest.’ Bhairav Chakravarty now said, ‘But suppose something from some other planet seem to come down to earth…’ ‘So what? The likes of us would never get to see it.’ ‘That’s true.’ Everyone now turned to their teacups, as there wasn’t much left to say on the subject. At this point Bonkubabu cleared his throat and said mildly, ‘Suppose it comes here.’ Nidhubabu feigned a show of great surprise and said, ‘Why, Bonku too has something to say. Dear me! What will come here, Bonku? From where?’ Bonkubabu again said softly, ‘Someone or something from some other planet, perhaps.’ As with his habit, Bhairav Chakravarty gave a hefty slap on his shoulder, showed his teeth and said grinning, ‘Bravo, Bonku, bravo! Men from other planets landing here? In this godforsaken place? Not London, not Moscow, not New York, not even Calcutta, land here in Kankurgachi? I must say you have high hopes.’ Bonkubabu did not say anything but it kept running in his mind — why is that is so impossible? After all, the purpose of coming from a far-away planet would be to visit Earth and suppose they didn’t bother where they landed? The chance of landing in Kankurgachi was just as good as landing anywhere else. Sripatibabu hadn’t opened his mouth so far. He now stirred himself; all eyes were turned on him. He put the teacup down and spoke in a deep ringing voice of great certainty, ‘Look, if anyone from any other planet chose to come down to earth, they wouldn’t choose this cursed country of ours. They have better things to do than that. And they are not fools. I strongly believe they could be Europeans, and they would choose a foreign country in the West. Do you understand?’ Everybody except Bonkubabu nodded in assent. Chandibabu poked Nidhubabu in the ribs, indicating Bonkubabu with a kidding smile and said in a mocking tone, ‘I must say Bonku is right. After all, it’s quite natural for them to come here if only because of Bonku. What do you say, Nidhu? Suppose they wished to take an earthly specimen back with them — what better choice than Bonku?’ Ramkanai said, ‘Good enough to adorn a museum, or a zoo.’ Bonkubabu thought, you’re not bad as specimens either. This Sripati, chin with camel’s face; Bhairav Chakravarty with eyes like a tortoise; Nidhu with a face like a mole; Ramkanai the goat; Chandibabu the bat — and you needed men to put in a zoo… Bonkubabu felt tears welling up in his eyes. He rose to go. He had looked forward to this meeting tonight, but it turned out so badly. His heart felt heavy. He couldn’t stay any longer. ‘You’re going?’ Sripati asked Bonkubabu. ‘It’s quite late, sir.’ ‘Late? But tomorrow’s a holiday. Sit now, have another cup of tea.’ ‘No thanks, Sir. I would better go. There are some answer papers lying. Good night.’ Ramkanai said, ‘Careful, Bonku. There’s no moon tonight. The men of Mars are scarier than ghosts.’

***

Bonkubabu saw the light as he was halfway through Pancha Ghosh’s bamboo orchard. He was not carrying a lantern himself. It was winter, so the snakes wouldn’t be out. Besides, he knew the way well. It was not a path that people used much, but for him, it was a shortcut. He had an odd feeling for some time. Something was not quite as it should be. But he couldn’t quite pin down what made it so. Then he suddenly realised that crickets were not chirping. There was dead silence. That was what made it different. On other evenings, the deeper he moved into the orchard, the louder became the shrilling. Tonight it was just the opposite. That was what made it so eerie. Now what could be the reason? Had the crickets all gone to sleep? He kept wondering as he walked on, and in a minute or so turned towards east, when he saw the light. At first he thought the orchard was on fire. In an open space, where the pond was, the branches and leaves of the bamboo orchard trees were bathed in a pink glow. Down on the ground the whole area of the pond was ablaze with an intense pink light. But it was not fire, because the light didn’t flicker. Bonkubabu advanced. He was aware of a sound on his ears, but couldn’t make out what it was. It was a sort of high-pitched penetrating buzz — like ringing in the ears. Although Bonkubabu felt a chill of fear, he walked on out of sheer curiosity. As he crossed the large cluster of bamboo, fifteen yards or so from the pond, he saw the thing. A huge object like an overturned bowl covered the entire pond and through its translucent surface emanated a brilliant yet soothing pink light which lit up the surrounding orchard. Even in his dreams, Bonkubabu had never seen a light like that. He stood staring in wonder for a while, and then although at first sight the object seemed still, now there seemed to be life in it. He noticed a movement. The domed surface rose and fell as in breathing. As Bonkubabu moved a few more steps to have a better look he suddenly felt as if a charge of electricity had passed through him. And the next moment he found himself immobilised and felt as if unseen bonds were holding him down. Drained of all energy, he could neither move forward, nor step back. He stood for a while like this and then noticed the rise and fall of the object’s surface slowly come to a stop. Along with it stopped the strange ringing sound. And then, piercing the silence of the night was heard a voice which was somewhat like human beings, although much higher in pitch. It said: ‘Milipipping Khruk! Milipipping Khruk!’ Bonkubabu was shocked into speechlessness. What kind of language was this? And where was the person that spoke out? The next shout made Bonkubabu’s heart miss a beat. ‘Who are you? Who are you?’ Bonkubabu gulped and shouted back, ‘I am Bonkubihari Dutta sir, Bonkubihari Dutta.’ ‘Are you English? Are you English?’ Bonkubabu shouted again, ‘No sir, Bengali Kayastha sir.’ After a few moments of silence was heard a voice that perfectly pronounced: ‘Namaskar.’ Bonkubabu sighed in relief and answered back: ‘Namaskar!’ And with that he could feel his unseen bonds loosening. He could run away now, but didn’t, because he noticed that a section of the domed object was now opening like a door.

[caption id=“attachment_9597641” align=“alignnone” width=“640”]  Illustrations by Satyajit Ray. Courtesy: Penguin Random House India[/caption] Through the door came out, first, a smooth round head of a creature, and then slowly emerged the rest of the body. The thin body of the creature was covered in a shining pink covering. On its face were pairs of holes where the nose and the ears should have been, and yet another hole for the mouth. There was no trace of hair. The two yellow eyes were so bright that they looked like electric bulbs. The creature slowly stepped forward towards Bonkubabu and stood regarding him from a distance of five feet. Inadvertently, Bonkubabu’s hands came together in a gesture of namaskar. After looking at Bonkubabu for a minute or so, the creature spoke in his thin, fluty voice. ‘You are a man?’ Bonkubabu said, ‘Yes.’ ‘This is the Earth?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I have guessed right — the controls are not working properly. I had a small doubt, so I questioned you first in one of the languages of Pluto. When you didn’t answer, I realised I had landed on the Earth instead. What a waste of time! Having come all the way . . . The same sort of thing happened another time. I was going to Jupiter and landed up in Venus instead — heh, heh!’ Bonkubabu didn’t know what to say. In any case, he was feeling very uncomfortable, because the creature had started prodding him with his thin fingers. As he finished his examination, he said, ‘I’m Ang from the planet Cranius. I belong to a much higher species than man.’ This 4-foot high creature was claiming to be of higher species than man! Bonkubabu felt like laughing. The creature strangely though, could read Bonkubabu’s thoughts and said, ‘There’s no point in disbelieving me. I have proof. How many languages do you know?’ Bonkubabu scratched his head and said, ‘Bengali, English and eh . . . a smattering of Hindi.’ ‘That’s two and a half.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I know fourteen thousand. I know every language spoken in your solar system. Besides, I also know the language of planets outside your solar system. I have been to twenty-five of them myself. How old are you?’ ‘Fifty.’ ‘I am eight hundred and thirty-three. Do you eat the flesh of animals?’ Only recently, on Kali Puja day, Bonkubabu had eaten meat curry. How could he say no? Ang said, ‘We don’t. We gave up a few centuries ago. We used to. I might have eaten you up.’ Bonkubabu gulped. ‘Ever seen this?’ Ang gave Bonkubabu something which looked like a small pebble. As soon as he took it, a tremor passed through his body, and he quickly handed that thing back. Ang laughed, ‘It was because I had this in my hand that you couldn’t come near. Nobody can. There is nothing better than this to render an enemy powerless without causing him hurt.’ Bonkubabu was beginning to feel truly impressed. Ang said, ‘Are there any places or sights that you would like to see but are not able to?’ Bonkubabu thought, why, he would like to see the whole of the world, really. He taught Geography, and yet he had seen nothing besides a few towns and villages of Bengal. What has he seen even of his own province? Not the snows of Himalayas, or the ocean of Digha, or the jungles at Sunderbans; not even the Banyan tree in the Botanical Gardens at Shibpur. He said, ‘There’s so much that I haven’t seen. For instance, as I belong to a tropical country, I often feel a great desire to see the polar regions.’ Ang produced a swell-like tube with a lens at one end and held it before Bonkubabu’s eyes. ‘Take a look through it,’ he said. Bonkubabu put his eyes on the tube and felt a shiver of excitement. Was this possible? Just before his eyes was an endless stretch of ice with hillocks of snow here and there. Up in the deep blue sky rainbow-coloured patterns kept shifting and changing in shape. Aurora Borealis. What was that? An Igloo. There — there was a group of polar bears. But what strange animal was that? Bonkubabu had a good look and recognised it, a Walrus! Not one, but two of them were locked in a fierce combat. The long, radish-like tusks of one were dug into the body of the other. Red blood dripped on the white snow. Even in the cold December night Bonkubabu broke into a sweat. Ang said, ‘Don’t you want to go to Brazil?’ Bonkubabu remembered the flesh-eating Piranha fish. Strange! How come the man was able to read his thoughts? Bonkubabu put his eyes in the hole again. Dense forest — the dark shadows in its depths spiked by sunlight filtering through the foliage. On one side was a gigantic tree and from its branches hung a — what was it? Good gracious! Bonkubabu could not imagine that such an enormous snake could exist. Then suddenly he remembered about the Anaconda of Brazil. Big brother to the python. But where was the fish? Then he could see a stream. On the banks were crocodiles basking in the sun. Now one of them stirred. It was about to slip into the stream. It did so with a slithering noise — Bonkubabu could hear it. But what was that noise? The crocodile was back in the bank like a flash. But was it the same animal? Bonkubabu was horrified that the lower part of its body had almost nothing left, only bones, and the rest of its flesh was being avidly devoured by five sharp-toothed little monsters — the Piranha fish! Bonkubabu could bear no more. His arms and legs were trembling and his head reeled. Ang said, ‘Now do you believe that we are superior?’ Bonkubabu licked his lips and said, ‘Of course, certainly. No doubt about it. A hundred times superior.’ ‘Very well,’ said Ang, ‘looking at you and feeling your limbs I get the feeling that although you belong to an inferior level, you are not a bad example of human being. But the truth with you is that you are too meek, which is why you never got on in life. And to not protest against wrong and to put up with humiliation without a murmur are traits which suit no being, human or otherwise. Anyway, I am happy about the chance meeting, but I can’t afford to waste time on this planet. I really must be off.’ Bonkubabu said, ‘Goodbye Mr Ang. I too was very happy to — ’ But before he had finished and before he knew what was happening, Ang’s rocket had taken off and was out of Pancha Ghosh’s bamboo orchard and had disappeared from view. Bonkubabu was now suddenly aware that the crickets had started shrilling again. Walking homeward, Bonkubabu had a strange feeling. Even a little while ago he hadn’t realised what an extraordinary event had taken place in his life. A planet tucked away in some remote corner of some solar system, nobody had ever heard of it. And from there comes this man — not man, but an Ang — and meets him and chats with him. How strange! How extraordinary! In all this earth, he was the only man this creature got to know. He — Bonkubihari Dutta, teacher of Geography and Bengali in the Kankurgachi Primary School. Today, from this moment, at least in one experience, he was, in the whole world, unique. Bonkubabu found that he was no longer walking, but dancing. The next day was a Sunday. The meeting in Sripatibabu’s was in full swing. The news of the moving light seen in the sky the previous evening was in the papers as a very small item indeed. The news had come from only two places in Bengal, so it was just another flying saucer story. Pancha Ghosh was among the members at today’s meeting. It seemed that in the 40-bigha bamboo orchard few clusters of bamboos surrounding the pond had been scorched down in the night, and shed all their leaves. Bamboo trees do shed their dry leaves in winter, but the sudden descending was most unusual. The phenomenon was being discussed when Bhairav Chakravarty suddenly said, ‘Why is Bonku so late today?’ Nobody had noticed this till now. Nishu Moktar said, ‘Bonku is unlikely to show his face just yet — after the way he was rubbed last night.’ Sripatibabu got very agitated and said, ‘But that won’t do. We want him here. Ramkanai, just go out and see if you can bring him along.’ Ramkanai said, ‘I’ll go as soon as I finish my tea,’ and that very moment Bonkubabu entered the room. Entered is hardly the word for it. It was as if a tornado swept in the guise of a small man. And then it wreaked havoc. As a prelude, Bonkubabu roared with laughter for a full minute, the likes of which no one had heard him laugh before. Having done that, Bonkubabu cleared his throat with a loud noise and spoke. ‘Friends, I am happy to announce that this is my last evening here. But before I actually part company with you, I have a few observations to make — which is why I am here. Number one — that goes for everybody — you are nothing but a bunch of windbags. People who talk of such things they know nothing about are called fools. Number two — this concerns Chandibabu — the propensity to hide shoes and umbrellas at your age is not only wrong but injustice. Please see that my umbrella and canvas shoes are sent back to my house by tomorrow. Nidhubabu, if you insist on calling me Bonkers, I shall start calling you Nitwit, and you’ll have to accept that. And Sripatibabu — you are a big man, doubtless you have a need for men to lick your boots. But know this, that as of today, I cease to be one of them. If you wish, I could send my pet cat Tom along; he can lick boots very well indeed. And — ah, I see Panchababu is here too. Let me inform you that one Mr Ang from the planet Cranuis came here in a rocket and landed in the pond in your bamboo orchard. I happened to get to know him. He is a delightful pers — sorry, Ang.’ With these words, and with a hefty slap on the back of Bhairav Chakravarty which sent him into a fit of coughing, Bonkubabu left the room. At that very moment, Ramkanai dropped the full tea cup which broke into smithereens and splattering everybody’s clothes with hot tea. *** Three Rays (40 Previously Unpublished Stories and Autobiographical Writings by Satyajit Ray) was published by Penguin India on 17 May 2021 | ISBN: 9780143448983 | 478 Pages | Rs 799