The Fugitive Father



The Fugitive Father

—M. Menonimus

The Fugitive Father
The Fugitive Father

The Fugitive Father

All officials of the Head Office of Linc and Company are in a jubilant mood as the new Managing Director has joined today at 9 o’clock. On the very first day, he arranged grand feasting for his staff in the canteen. All are invited to share the movement. The name of the new Director is Ranabir Iyer Deka. He is a smart youth of about twenty-five. At first sight, he has bewitched all with his candid and amicable demeanour. He is an M. A. in Economics from Delhi University and got his Ph. D. from Cambridge University, England. Besides, he has a diploma in Business Organization from Chicago, America. All the staff is of the opinion that this new Director would prove more worthy than the previous one.

Linc and Company is one of the renowned companies in India and to have a job in such a company is a badge of honour for anyone. The company gives comparatively a higher facility to its employees.

At about twelve o’clock, all the staff gathered in the canteen for the feasting. Ranabir, the newly appointed Director, standing from his chair addresses all in general, “My dear colleagues, I am very proud of being appointed to a chair of this esteemed company. I hope you all would help me in leading the company to a more and more prestigious stage in the coming days. Thank you all. Now let us relish the feast.”

All begin to take the delicacies prepared especially for the occasion. In the staff of the office, there is an old clerk. He has been serving in this office for the last twenty-five years. He is a man of few words, gentle, dutiful and all the time seems melancholic. Everybody respects him for his peculiar traits of nature. He is a man of above fifty-five, the oldest of all the members of the office. With the introduction of Ranabir, the new Managing Director, the clerk seems to be more melancholic. He seems to look at the chubby cheeks, reddish face, curly hair, and strong figure that the Director bears in him. All are busy taking their food. But he seems to be dipped in thought and slow in eating. He looks at the Director and then asks himself, “Is that he? He seems just like….”

After lunch was over, all the members of the staff get embark to their respective duties.

A month has passed by. Everybody on the staff notices that the old clerk has been becoming weak, melancholic, grave, and indifferent to his entity. But none asks him anything as he is the most aged, honest and humble person of the staff. One day he approaches the new Director and asks, “Sir, may I know your whereabouts please?”

The director looked up from his chair and replied, “Why not? I belonged to Assam. Gauhati is my home city.”

The old clerk asks him again, “Your father’s name please?”

The Director looked at his face and replied, “I have not seen my father. He had been lost before I was born. From my mother, I have heard that my father’s name was Raghab Iyer.”

The clerk seems to be startled and lowering his head he goes back to his table. It seems that he is overwhelmed by a swarm thoughts. While departing from the office at 5 o’clock in the evening, he says to one of his colleagues that he feels feverish.

The next day the clerk comes to the office half an hour late and lodges an application to the Director that he is not well and would go to see a doctor. Therefore, he asks for a leave of three days. The Director, looking at him receives the application.

Already three days have passed; there is no presence of the clerk. On the fourth day, the clerk sends a message to the Director informing him that his condition is worse and now he is in Arora Nursing Hall. Then one of his colleagues proposes that they should go to see him in the hospital. 

The next day evening some of the officials have gone to Arora Nursing Hall where the old clerk was admitted for treatment. Going there, they find that the clerk is lying senseless in his bed. The nurse makes them know that his condition is not good. He often loses his sense. His heart is weak. After some time, the nurse declares that he has come to senses and they are allowed to see him. The old man with a feeble voice utters, “I am pleased to see you all. But where is the Director?”

One of his colleagues replies, “He has not come.” 

The clerk says to them that he would like to see the Director. 

Wishing him a quick recovery they come back.

The next day evening the Director, with two other officials of his staff, go to the hospital to see the old man. The nurse let them know that the patient seems to be slightly better than before and that they can meet him.

The Director, Mr Ranabir Iyer Deka sits beside him and enquires about his condition. The old man says, “I feel slightly better today but I see that my end is near. Saying so, he looks at the Director and says, “Dear Director, I am pleased that you have come to see me. May God bless you with a long life! But that I have to reveal a secret to you which has been killing me day after day, year after year for the last twenty-five years. Would you please listen to it?”

The director says, “Yes, I am ready to hear. You may have your say.”

“Please Excuse me if my story gives you pain.” Saying so, he begins to tell:

After passing B. Com. I became an employee of Hervey and Co. But after working as a clerk for three years, the Company sent me to Gauhati, Assam as a Branch Manager of the Marketing Dept. Our Gauhati Office was in Ambari, Gauhati -1. In my staff, there were fifteen employees eleven of which were from the nook and corner of Assam. In our staff, there were two females. One of the two belonged to proper Gauhati. She came from a poor family. She lost her father in her childhood. Her mother gave her a proper education through much hardship. She lived with her only mother near our office which lay opposite my temporary quarter. Though she came from poor parents, yet she was amicable, gentle, smart, dutiful, shy and physically attractive. She was very obedient to the disciplines of the office and gave me full satisfaction with her work. A year passed by. From the very first day, I became bewitched by her comeliness. But I dared not to express my love to her as I belonged to an orthodox Hindu caste.

She also seemed to be attracted to me. One day, I proposed to her that I was willing to have a private talk with her. She hesitantly agreed to my proposal. Accordingly, that very evening, we went to a hotel and expressed my love to her. That was the beginning. Since then she often used to frequent my quarter. Six months passed by. One day she hesitantly revealed she felt that she is going to be a mother of a child by me. I suddenly became dumbfounded. I was not in a position to become the father of a child without being married. I thought it to be a stain upon my social standing. I became embarrassed. I did not find out what to say and what to do. My conscience ceased to work. At last, I decided that I must escape from this scar.

That very night, I wrote my resignation letter to the concerned authority and left Assam bag and baggage. 

I returned home.  I began to spend my days waywardly. My father was a businessman. He urged me to enter his business. But I did not like entering into business. So to keep myself busy I took the job of a clerk in the Head office of Linc and Company, Bombay. Here in the same office, I have been serving for twenty-five years at a stretch. The memory of the girl left in Assam troubled me every moment. It carried away all my peace of mind. But there was no means to overcome the pain and mental suffering. I could keep up my balance of mind in my work only. I decided not to marry again. Already my parents died. I was the only child of my parents. After their departure, I became the sole inheritor of their vast property. But I had no desire for worldly affairs. Sometimes I thought to leave my job as I had such a good deal of property that I myself give birth to a company. But what is the use of money if there is no peace of mind? So eventually I determined to keep up my job as a clerk so that I can keep my mind busy.

No, you see where I have arrived. The name of my beloved in Assam was Nilima Deka and I am Raghab Iyer, your lost father but I mean your fugitive father. I have now an acre of land in the south region of the city, a fifty lacs bank balance along with three five-storied buildings. You are the sole inheritor of all my property.  

Telling so the poor old man tried to stretch out his weak arms to his son and said come to my bosom, my child, and for once in life call me, ‘Father.’

Telling so the poor old man tried to stretch out his weak arms to his son and said come to my bosom, my child, and for once in life call me, ‘Father.’

Saying so, he gave out a long sigh. The sun was setting. The yellow light of the setting sun entered the floor of the room. The poor clerk became numb and motionless. Ranabir Iyer called out, ‘Father.’ But there was no repose. The doctor came in, examined the pulse, and declared, “He is dead.”  0 0 0

The Fugitive Father

N.B.  The short story ‘The Fugitive Father’ originally belongs to the book ‘The Fugitive Father and Other Stories‘ by Menonim Menonimus.

The Fugitive Father

Books of Composition by M. Menonimus:

  1. Advertisement Writing
  2. Amplification Writing
  3. Note Making
  4. Paragraph Writing
  5. Notice Writing
  6. Passage Comprehension
  7. The Art of Poster Writing
  8. The Art of Letter Writing
  9. Report Writing
  10. Story Writing
  11. Substance Writing
  12. School Essays Part-I
  13. School Essays Part-II
  14. School English Grammar Part-I
  15. School English Grammar Part-II..

Books of S. Story by M. Menonimus:

  1. The Fugitive Father and Other Stories
  2. The Prostitute and Other Stories
  3. Neha’s Confession

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I am Menonim Menonimus, a Philosopher & Writer.


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