Perhaps Mars, or maybe Saturn. If you make contact, you too might discover Telenaapota one day. That is, after being swept up in the hustle and bustle of work, if you suddenly get a two-day break and someone tells you that the simplest fish on Earth are eager to pierce their watery world with their first big stick in some amazing pond, and if you haven't had the good fortune to pull anything but a few weeds from the water in your life, then you too might discover Telenaapota one day. The bullock cart will then start back along the path it came or down the lane. You'll be amazed to see the dense forest gradually revealing a narrow tunnel-like path ahead. Every moment it will seem as if the wall of darkness is impenetrable, yet the bullock cart will continue slowly and steadily, as if spreading the path beneath its feet. To avoid wasting words, you'll somehow get inside the cart's cage with the other two, and you'll face the challenge of how to arrange three pairs of arms and legs and three heads in the smallest possible space. To discover Telenaapota, one afternoon you'll have to get on a crowded bus in the blazing sun, then, amidst the jostling of the road and the jostling of people, you'll have to get off in the middle of the road after a couple of hours, sweaty and dusty in the heat of Bhadra. You'll see the long, straight road running over a low, watery place. After the bus has passed over it with a strange gurgling sound and disappeared around a bend on the other side, you'll see that even though the sun hasn't set, it's suddenly dark all around, with dense forest. You won't see anyone around, and it will seem as if even the birds have fled the place in fear. You'll feel a damp, wet, and oppressive atmosphere. It will seem as if a cruel coil is slowly rising from the water below, an invisible trap. You'll have to leave the big road and stand by that wet water. Ahead, through the dense forest, it will seem as if a muddy stream has been cut off.

Like the path, some distance away, it disappears into a bamboo grove and large clumps of jackfruit trees. You will become restless with anticipation at the sound. Anticipation will not fail you. In the dense darkness, you will first see a faint light flickering, and then a bullock cart will emerge slowly and laboriously from the jungle, crossing the stream. Just like the cart, the bulls will seem to have come out of some dwarf's land beneath the earth, a miniature version of a bullock cart. The three of you will then eagerly watch the front of the path, occasionally stamping your feet to ward off the closeness of the mosquitoes, and looking at each other's faces with questioning eyes. Two more friends and companions should be with you for the discovery of oil. They may not be as avid for fish as you are, but who knows what motive or curiosity has brought them on this expedition. After a while, you won't be able to see each other's faces in the increasingly dense darkness. The chorus of mosquitoes will become even sharper. Just as you are wondering whether to try to get back on the main road, you will suddenly hear an extraordinary sound coming from the muddy stream where it disappears into the jungle. It will sound as if some inhuman being is crying out in anguish from the depths of the forest. For a few moments, you will feel a slight discomfort, a feeling that your limbs are likely to be dislocated. Unwilling conflicts will arise with your friends from time to time, and then you will gradually realize that you are lost in the pitch-black darkness all around. Two or three bedbugs will argue with you all night over ownership of the room. The night will grow longer. The chimney of the broken lantern will gradually become completely blackened and slowly go blind. Having received some mysterious wireless signal, all the able-bodied mosquitoes in the area will welcome the newcomers and come to establish a blood relationship with them. If you are observant, you will understand from the distinctive postures on the walls and on their bodies that they are Anopheles, the unique vehicle of the greatest noble malaria goddess among the mosquitoes. Your two friends will then be unconscious for two reasons.

Slowly, she will abandon the bed and stand up, then, holding the torch to escape the oppressive heat a little, try to climb the dilapidated stairs to the roof. The bullock cart will turn two or three times and stop at one place. Gathering the limbs somehow from various places, you will disembark one by one like wooden puppets. A bitter smell has been welcoming you for a long time. You will realize it is the smell of rotting pond weeds. In the dim light of the half-moon, a small pond will come into view. Next to it stands a vast, dilapidated mansion, with a broken roof, collapsed walls, and windowless openings like blind sockets, standing like a fortress against the moon. For the discovery of the oil lamp, one of your two friends must be a sleuth and the other a sleepy Kumbhakarna. Upon reaching the room, one of you will spread himself on the floor, somehow covered in a hundred and one stains, and start snoring, while the other will immerse himself in a water pot. How is it possible for such a place to exist, thirty miles from the metropolis, in the midst of a tiger reserve? You will be thinking this as the bullock cart crosses a vast field. The late, waning crescent moon in the sky seems to have risen. In its faint light, the vast, silent watchmen will slowly move past the cart on either side. The ruins of the ancient mansion, a stop here, a broken arch there, the remnants of a temple somewhere, stand in a futile attempt to bear witness to the great time. After carefully understanding the matter, before you can raise the question in a trembling voice whether it is possible to ward off the tiger with mere cannon blasts, the driver will reassure you that a tiger means a leopard. And unless extremely hungry, these cannon blasts are enough to keep it away. Time is frozen, so you will not understand how long this darkness will last. Suddenly, at one moment, you will wake up to a strange musical sound, see the stars in the sky through the cracks, and hear a cannon blast resounding from the driver of the cart.

Curious as to the reason, you inquire, and the boatman, with utter nonchalance, informs you, "Well, to chase the tiger of that forest." The last bastion of consciousness has been submerged in the darkness. It feels as though you have been transported to a familiar world, yet to some distant realm. Only a world of sensory-less mist surrounds you. Time there is stagnant, without current. In that state, as much as possible, sitting up, you will feel a shiver running through your entire body. It will feel as though you have left the living world and arrived in some desolate, desolate afterlife. You don't know how much night it is, but it will feel as though the night here will never end. Everything is submerged in profound, primordial, infinite silence; just as the various animal specimens remain in the museum. Then, suddenly, the sound of water will break your reverie. A wave has risen in the still water, gently rocking your cork float. Turning your head, you will see a girl filling water in a shiny brass pot, the pond leaves floating on the surface. The girl has curiosity in her eyes, but no shyness in her movements. She will look directly at you, notice your float, then turn away and lift the pot to her waist. The day will progress. From a precarious bamboo perch above, a dragonfly will suddenly dive into the pond water with a flash of color in the air, as if to mock you, and then return to the bamboo perch with the exultation of a successful hunt and taunt you in an incomprehensible language. A thick, long snake will emerge from a crack in the broken embankment and swim slowly and deliberately across the pond to the other side, its thin, glass-like wings fluttering with two flicking tongues, and try to land on your float, and you will be stunned by the mournful croaking that emanates from it. You will certainly not forget your original purpose. Once, with the arrangements for the Shodashopachar ceremony completed, you will sit on one side of the moss-covered broken embankment for the fish worship, and lower the large net with the appropriate offerings into the green water of the pond. You will not be able to understand the girl's age. Seeing the serene, sorrowful solemnity on her face, it will seem as though she has traversed the long, cruel path of life; seeing her thin, long, malnourished body, it will seem as though she is suspended between adolescence and adulthood.

Every moment, the danger of a falling brick or tile trying to flatten you will attempt to disarm you, yet you will be unable to resist the irresistible pull and climb up. When you wake up, you will be surprised to see that even in this night's world, dawn arrives, and the world is filled with the sounds of birds. You will descend again in contentment, and you won't even realize when you've made a little space for yourself next to two friends and fallen asleep. You will find that in most places, the walls have crumbled to dust, and the roots of the fifth column of the forest have spread their conspiracy deep within, advancing the work of destruction of this mansion; yet, in the faint light of the new moon, everything will seem uniquely enchanting. After a while, you will feel as if you have discovered the captive princess, unconscious in a deep, age-old sleep, lying in a secret chamber of this dead, sleeping city, with golden and silver rods by her side. At that moment, you might see a faint line of light in a window of what appeared to be a ruined building across the narrow street. A mysterious shadow will block that line of light and stand there. You will try to think about who this is at this late hour, why there is no sleep in her eyes, but you will understand nothing. After a while, you will think it was all just an illusion of your eyes. The shadow has moved away from the window, and the faint line of light has disappeared. It will seem as if a bubble of a dream from the deep sleep of this ruined city has floated up into the world of life for a moment and then merged back in. Her voice is so calm, sweet, and serious that talking to a stranger like this will not seem unusual to you at all. You will forget to be startled by the sudden shock. Then, after the submerged bubble has risen and merged again, you will raise your head and see that there is no one on the roof anymore. You will have to look at the girl for a moment, a little unprepared. She will turn her face away and leave the steps with calm, slow footsteps, but it will seem as if, in that surprised moment of turning her face, a hint of a bright smile has played on that calm, sorrowful face. The solitude of the pond's edge will no longer be broken. The mosquito above will abandon its futile attempt to embarrass you and fly away long before.

The fishermen seem to be deeply indifferent to your physical capabilities, carrying three pots and glancing back, the girl will suddenly say, 'Why are you sitting? Pull!' 'Yes, just as you say. He must have come. I know he can't meet me because of shyness, call him. Why are you hiding from me!' I don't know what to do. Since becoming blind, my patience has increased so much that I can't understand anything, and when I get angry, I do such things that it becomes a matter of saving his life! 4 You might want to know what's going on now. Mani will say in an annoyed tone, 'What's the matter! Niranjan arranged his relationship with a distant sister's daughter during his childhood. Four years ago, those boys came and told him that he would marry her after returning from his foreign job. Since then, the old woman has been counting days sitting inside this Ajgar puri, hoping for that. ' 'You can now hear the weak yet sharp, angry voice from upstairs. Jamini will now plead in a pitiful voice, 'Please, Manida, just go and calm him down with reason.' 'Alright, you stay, I'm coming.' Mani will now enter the room and say to himself, 'This is a good fire, whatever it is. The old woman has lost her hands and eyes, yet she sits stubbornly, she won't die.'

Then you might learn that the unreal, pathetic girl at the pond is a relative of your drinking friend. At the same time, you will hear that the arrangement for the afternoon meal has been made there as it was that day. The dilapidated ruins, which created a shadowy figure for a moment last night, will extremely distress you with its dilapidated decay in the harsh light of day. You could not have imagined that its naked, dilapidated form could become so grotesque after the night's illusion disappeared. You will not be able to help but ask yourself, 'Hasn't Niranjan returned from abroad yet?' 'Hmm, I'm seeing a big problem. Even if I had eyes, I would pretend not to see that the one who has come is not Niranjan.' 'You will see him become restless and agitated two or four times while serving you.' A faint voice from an upstairs room seems to be calling someone. Manida, your drinking friend.

After he stands by the door, the conversation that follows won't be so quiet that you won't hear it. Listen, you will hear Jamine saying in a very distressed and faint voice, 'Mother isn't listening at all. I can't describe how restless she has become until you arrived.' 'At one point, you'll have to go up with your luggage, feeling hopeless. When you return, you might hear through your friends' jokes how your fishing skills have already become known to them. Crushed by their teasing, you might ask your witty friend where they heard the story and they'll say, "Who knows?" Just now, Jamine saw with her own eyes that...' Jamine will hurriedly go outside. Each time she returns, her face will seem to have a deeper shadow of sorrow, along with a kind of helpless restlessness in her eyes. After you finish eating, you can rest for a while. After some hesitation, she will finally call from the door in a pleading voice, 'Please listen for a moment, Moni.' Moni will reply in a slightly annoyed tone, 'Oh, that same thing again! Niranjan has arrived, I suppose?' 'And he won't want to compete again.' The earlier incident will seem unreal to you. You won't be able to believe that such a girl actually exists in this desolate, uninhabited land. You will be surprised to know that this is Jamine's house. It is in one of the rooms of this house that you have probably been served your meal. The arrangements are meager, and perhaps Jamine herself is serving. You have already noticed the girl's lack of unnecessary shyness or coyness; only the sorrowful seriousness of her face will be more prominent in your eyes. It is as if all the silent pain of this abandoned, forgotten, uninhabited locality has cast a shadow on her face. Despite seeing everything, her gaze seems to be submerged in the depths of some profound fatigue, as if she will slowly disappear into those ruins one day. Climbing the narrow, dark, broken stairs to the room you are going to, it will seem as if her place is not upstairs, but in an underground tunnel. With only one window, and that closed, everything will initially appear blurry to your eyes as light comes in from outside, and then you will realize that almost filling the room is a broken cot with a frail, skeletal figure lying on it, covered in cobwebs. On one side of the cot, Jamine stands like a stone statue.

At your words, a stir will appear in that skeleton: 'Who, Niranjan Eli? The unfortunate woman remembered you after so long, thinking you would come, that my life has been stuck in my throat. I couldn't die peacefully at all. Will you run away again now?' You will be able to feel the girl's stunned surprise, like a statue, even without looking at her face, with the blindness in her eyes. But you will have no time to look anywhere. You will be staring silently at the hollows of her sightless eyes, holding your breath. It will seem as if two black flames of darkness are coming out of those empty hollows and examining you by embracing your whole body. You will feel those few silent moments slowly falling like dewdrops into the ocean of time. Then you will hear, 'I knew you wouldn't come, son. That's why I've been guarding this city of the dead all these days.' 'Oh, he's gone abroad, he'll be back!' Nehat, the old woman, sent him off with this lie. He has a responsibility to rescue such a girl from the clutches of the ghost. He will get married and start a family soon. But who will tell him that? If you tell him, he won't believe it, and if he does believe it, he'll lose his mind right now! Who will be the victim of such a deception?' The old woman will say again, 'You will be happy with Jamini, son. I am not saying this because I am her mother, such a girl is not. I am old and out of my mind with grief, I don't know how much I torture the girl day and night. Still, I don't want her to leave. In this land of cremation grounds, you won't find a man even if you search ten houses. In my opinion, the corpses by the ghat are just clinging to broken bricks and smoking here and there, in the meantime, girls are becoming men and doing all sorts of things!' The old woman will say all this and pant; casting a glance at Jamini, you will feel as if something is slowly melting inside her, against fate and life, the strength of a strong vow made of deep despair, behind the hard mask outside, and there is no delay in its separation. 'Then I don't know! But there is no way to tell my mother!' Well, the fruits of our actions will come to pass!' Saying this, Mani will take a step towards the stairs. 'You will go!' Mani will turn back and look at you in surprise, 'Yes, is there any objection?' 'No, what objection is there!'

With a somewhat stubborn tone, Mani will show you the way. At that moment, you might have to stand up on your own, unaware. Suddenly, he might say, "Come on, I'm coming too." Despite your strong desire, you won't have the courage to look up even once. Your own tears, I suppose, can no longer be hidden. The old woman will take a small sigh and say, "You must take Jamini, son! I won't find peace until I hear your final words." You will laugh and say, "Don't worry. Can the Telnapota's fish jump out of the frying pan again just because it couldn't this time!" Choking back tears, you will only be able to say, "I promise you, Masima. My word won't be broken."

Then, in the afternoon, the bullock cart will come and stand at the door! The three of you will get in one by one. At the moment of departure, standing by the cart, with those pitiful eyes, Jamini will only say, "Your little sparrow has fallen." Interrupting what Mani is about to say, you will suddenly say, "No, Masima, I won't run away anymore."

Do you know about Jamini's purity? The cart will start. About a year and a half ago, a terrible flood of the first malaria outbreak had brought Telnapota to this forgotten edge of the living world. Your friends might discuss those things. You won't hear those things clearly. The narrowness of the cart will no longer bother you, the monotonous creaking of its wheels will not sound harsh to you. You will only hear one word echoing in your heartbeat, "Come back."

When you reach the bustling, illuminated highways of the metropolis, the memory of Telnapota will still be shining in your mind like a distant yet intimate star. A few days of minor obstacles will pass. You won't even realize if a little fog is gathering in the sky of your mind. Then, the day you are ready to return to Telnapota after removing all the obstacles, suddenly with a headache and a shivering cold, you will have to lie down with a hot water bottle. The thermometer will show one hundred and five degrees, the doctor will come and say, "Where did you get the malaria?" You will be overwhelmed by the intensity of the fever. Jamini will not turn her face away.

Not from the lips, but from within, a sweet, grateful smile seems to drift from the depths of her eyes, soothing the horizons of your heart like the white clouds of autumn. After many days, with a frail body, she will come out into the light and air, her steps trembling, and then you will see that much of the washing and cleaning of body and mind has already been done, unknown to you. Like a setting star, the telenapota will seem to you like a blurred dream. It will seem as if there is no truth in telenapota anywhere. The girl, with her serious, hard face and distant, compassionate gaze, like the shadow of a ruined city, is perhaps just an unreal, fanciful imagination of your weakest moment. Once revealed for a moment, telenapota will again sink into the depths of the eternal night.