This January, I decided to work on a travel diary based on the rich historical background of my home district Murshidabad in Bengal. I had moved out of my hometown Berhampore in 1999 for higher studies. For sixteen long years, I stayed in different cities owing to education and job assignments. When we moved back in 2016, Kolkata had become our new home. In the backyard of my memories, Murshidabad always had a strong influence. I extended my stay at my in-laws for a month this time. Every alternate day, I visited places of historical significance in Murshidabad to understand the folklore surrounding it, read up history books, listened to a tourist guide’s version of its history and clicked numerous snaps. This series formed a part of my BlogchatterA2Z challenge based on the theme ‘A dollop of Bengal”(letters H – M).
This photo was clicked at Nasipur Rajbari (Palace). This palace used to be the court of Debi Singha – the tax collector (in)famous for his atrocities towards the poor. A portion of this property has now been converted into an art museum and library. These steps with a tainted history of bloodshed and pain evoked a feeling of eeriness in me.
This is the third post (nonfiction) written as part of the #MyfriendAlexa campaign on the theme ‘Shades of Perception’. You can read the first flash fiction around this picture prompt hereand the second one here.
Mir Rehman walked inside his office room in the palace.
The rumors about the palace being haunted had led to a decline in visitors. But having worked as a Diwan for 38 years here, Mir rubbished such claims.
Of late his relation with Amir Ali, the last Nawab had become sour. Amir’s obsession with alcohol and women had been eating into the palace’s revenues.
The creaking of the door made Mir observe Amir’s entry with another man.
“Anjan, finalize the hotel deal and give me the money.”
Anjan said, “What did you do to Mir who had threatened to inform the local police about your unlawful activities?”
“I killed him in his sleep and rolled his dead body down the stairs outside. The police and the local doctor helped me cover it up as an accident from tripping.”
But Anjan had turned pale on spotting a ledger in the air, held without any support.
Next morning, the newspapers carried details of Nawab Amir Ali and liquor baron Anjan Seth’s demises. Amir had a fatal fall from the stairs while Anjan had passed away from a heart attack.
For Mir Rehman, it was work as usual in his corner office room.
This is the first post written as part of the #MyfriendAlexa campaign as per my theme ‘Shades of Perception’.
For this challenge, I will be using four photos as prompts to weave two flash fiction stories and one real story behind the picture. Stay tuned to read the second flash fiction that I will write around the same picture in my next post. You could also consider subscribing to my blog if you like reading my stories.
I am taking my Alexa rank to the next level with Blogchatter