An absurd story

By virtue of his government rank, he has been allotted a house. Next to the house is a small artificial pond. The pond is surrounded by fallen leaves and rows of lush green trees. He thought to himself that if colorful lotus flowers were to bloom in the pond, it would create a stunning scene. He grew even more delighted at the idea that his many pet ducks would wade in the water, creating a heavenly view of birds and flowers together. He imagined himself standing on the veranda each day, watching this serene scene before going to sleep.

He knew that, as an elected representative of the people, a deep sleep at night was essential for working for the people's welfare. He decided he would act exactly as he envisioned.

But there was one thing that irritated him: there was no shelter for his ducks in the new house. He told his secretary, “These government people are truly thoughtless. There's no housing for pets.” The secretary bowed his head and replied obediently, “Yes, sir, you’re absolutely right. A government residence should include a cowshed for cattle, a doghouse for dogs, and so on. Listening to you now, sir, makes me feel like a goat myself.”

“Well, of course,” he replied. “You’re a government officer, but I’m a public representative. Now go, bring the file. Prepare a proposal citing the necessity of a government shelter for the ducks.”

The secretary left, and he stood there, delighted, thinking he had given a proper and purposeful directive. That’s exactly how things should be, he mused. Pet animals must sleep indoors at night. If the state government doesn’t understand this, then who will—the poor commoners? He felt proud for having taken the right decision at the right time.

Soon, a small house was built for the ducks, costing lakhs of taka. The roof was decorated with intricate designs inlaid with gems and pearls. Upon seeing it, he was overjoyed. Magnificent, he thought. It is the government’s duty to spend taxpayers’ money for the welfare of helpless creatures. And I’m a vital part of this government.

Lately, he found himself dozing off even during the day while standing on the verandah, watching the exquisite sight of ducks and blooming lotuses in the pond. After waking, he would briefly tend to official paperwork before going back to sleep as night fell.

His wife asked, “Are you feeling unwell?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then why are you sleeping so much?”
“This isn’t sleep,” he replied. “This is my recreation. Because I’ve created a stunningly beautiful scene in the state.”
“Oh, please!” she snapped. “People in this country don’t have food to eat, and you’ve built a lavish shelter for ducks. Looking at your lake keeps me awake at night.”

Saying no more, his wife turned and went back to her own work.

He was deeply hurt that his wife could not appreciate his work; yet he did not allow himself even a moment of sadness. Those around him always praised him. They were the ones who truly valued his efforts. They said, “There is no one like you, sir.” He was always restless, thinking about the country, thinking about the people. Hearing these words, his eyes would fill with tears. He thought, it is because they are there that his desire to live is fulfilled. His lifespan is extended.

If he kept counting what his wife said or didn’t say, he would never be able to devise new plans for the country’s progress. It was better to give importance to his wife in the bedroom and kitchen—or if not, at least to the daughter. Actually, he understood that he was hurt by his wife’s words. So instead of letting his thoughts wander down a dark path, he began to think about doing something new.

A couple of months later.

One early morning, as he came out to the verandah after waking, he saw hundreds of naked people gathered in front of the house. People with ribs and spine protruding—such people need votes at election time, but what do they want now? He was astonished and irritated. No greetings, no messages, just a mob gathered right outside his house. The number kept doubling every year. They did not even properly understand family planning. What a mess!

A guard came and said, “Sir, they want to talk to you.”

He said in an angry tone, “What do they want here? All these rustic ghosts. They have the audacity to gather right outside my house.”
“Sir, they want you. They have brought golden paddy for your ducks. They want to place it at your feet.”
“Golden paddy?”
“Yes, sir. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Without saying more, he swiftly descended the stairs. The people lined up and placed their bundles of paddy at his feet, then stepped aside. He raised his right hand in a blessing gesture. His eyes glittered with greed.

After the bundles were handed over, one of them said, “Sir, we have seen in the papers that you built a golden house for your ducks. We thought golden ducks need golden paddy. So we have grown golden paddy, sir. This year, our own homes won’t have any rice.”

He smiled slyly and said, “What’s the harm in not eating rice all year? You can eat bread. Boiled vegetables too. Isn’t that enough?”
“Yes, sir, it is enough.”

Then everyone shouted, “Sir, if your ducks eat the golden paddy, they will lay golden eggs!”
“Golden eggs!”
“Yes, sir, golden eggs.”
“We’ll all come to see the golden eggs, sir. Today itself we’re going.”

In an instant, the field in front of the house was empty.

His single hand seemed like ten as he carried the bundles of golden paddy into the house. He stuffed them into the cupboard in his room. His wife came up behind him and said, “I heard golden paddy has come for your ducks? The poor people didn’t eat it themselves but grew golden paddy? And your ducks will lay golden eggs after eating it?”
“You have heard correctly.”
“But is the bedroom wardrobe really the place to store golden paddy?”
He glared sternly at his wife and said nothing.

His wife spoke again, “The paddy will go into the ducks’ stomachs, won’t it? If not, it would be a betrayal of the people.”
Silence! Don’t talk too much.
“No, I have no desire to talk to you.”

They both went their separate ways. He was deeply irritated. His wife interfered with his affairs, saying he could not keep his temper in check. Yet he thought to himself, his loyal people would grow golden paddy for his ducks without eating it themselves. One day, he would build a mountain of golden paddy. Ah, what peace! Then he would bid farewell to this wife. This woman speaks too much for the common people, which is utterly unbearable.

Days pass, months pass.
Villagers gather in front of his house.
“Sir, we want to see the ducks’ golden eggs.”

He said angrily, “The ducks have not laid any golden eggs.”
The crowd shouted, “If the ducks eat golden paddy, they must lay golden eggs.”
“So, were the ducks not fed the golden paddy?”
“If they weren’t fed, then where did the golden paddy go? Who ate the golden paddy?”

He shouted, “Ah, you all be quiet! Go away now.”
“We are leaving, sir, but we will return. We have laboured hard to produce golden paddy. We want the ducks’ golden eggs.”

The field emptied instantly. It seemed like a supernatural sight. The shamelessness of these nearly naked people astonished him. His anger grew. When he climbed to the veranda, he saw his wife standing at the top of the stairs. Looking at him, she said calmly, “The duck that pecks at scraps daily—how can its stomach produce golden eggs?”

He replied in a cold, serious voice, “I will answer that to you!”
His wife impatiently said, “Do you have an answer?”
“You will find out soon enough.”

He stood on the veranda, staring open-mouthed at the enchanting scene of ducks splashing in the water.

The next day the house guard said, “Sir, disaster has struck. Terrorists have taken two ducks!”
“Taken them? Don’t you have guns?”
“They had machine guns, sir. They said the news is spreading throughout the state that the ducks will lay golden eggs. We will extract the golden eggs from their stomachs. I asked how? They said, by slaughtering them.”
“Slaughtering?” He shuddered.
“Yes, sir. They also said they would take the eggs out and cook the two ducks.”

He sat down, holding his head in his hands. The day passed as if in exhaustion.

Months passed. Years passed. Five years went by.

The nearly naked people continued to come and go at his house. They brought golden paddy. One morning, they gathered in front of his house again. This time they had doubled in number. He looked down and saw thousands of heads in black and white. People were whispering and shouting.
“Come down! Come before us! We want our share of the golden eggs!”

He shouted, “The ducks have not laid golden eggs.”
“We’ve heard you never fed the ducks golden paddy. You’ve been hoarding the golden paddy inside your house. You’ve been storing it to sell it for profit.”

“Guard, bring the guns. They’re making big claims.”
“How many bullets, sir? There are more people here than bullets. You cannot kill them all.”
“Guard, shoot! Finish them off! They’re causing trouble.”

The guard tried to shoot but the gun did not fire.

Laughter echoed through the crowd.

The nearly naked people seized him.

Then they tied his bloodied body to a bamboo pole and paraded him around the state.

He, who had once been a duck laying golden eggs, looked up at the sky. Blood dripped from his body onto the royal road.