The 'Mahanagar Godhuli' train that had left Chittagong for Dhaka pulled into Brahmanbaria station around eight at night. I hurriedly boarded carriage 'Chho' (the sixth). The boy who had issued my ticket, Rubaiyet - a representative of a pharmaceutical company who would get on at Bhairab - had all the tickets with him. After sending me a message on my mobile he even called and said, "Sir, you'll be in chagoler chho - the ch of 'goat'."

I said, "Understood - chho."

He shouted again, "Sir, chho. Chagoler chho. Not chor-er 'ch' (thief's ch)."

I said, "Okay."

He yelled, "Don't worry, sir. I'll get on at Bhairab. Seats 31 and 32 are ours. I can't reach Sekendar sir on the phone. Could you please call Kaiguli and tell him that his carriage is 'J' - sir, the joker's J not zebra's z."

I said, "Okay, I'll tell him."

Rubaiyet shouted again, "Sir, I couldn't manage Belal sir's ticket. Tell him not to take it to heart. Ask him to buy a standee ticket and board. We'll sort a seat later. Actually, sir, I deliberately didn't cut his ticket. He doesn't prescribe my medicines."

I said, "All right. The train's moving - we can't keep talking."

"Okay, sir. Chagoler chho."

No sooner had I sat in the train seat than drowsiness took me.

I can't keep my eyes open while trains or cars are moving.

Half asleep, I realized the train had stopped at Bhairab station and Rubaiyet had come to sit beside me. The train rattled and started moving again. I leaned against Rubaiyet and fell asleep.

Suddenly, with a jolt, the train stopped.

I sat up, heart pounding.

"What happened?" I woke with a start and couldn't understand why the train had stopped so suddenly.

Voices were shouting. Rubaiyet said, "Sir, you stay here. I'll go see what's going on."

He got off the train. After about ten minutes he returned. "Not very serious, sir. But a freight train derailed. It went off the line. Only the carriage in front of us has fallen. No one's dead."

"How did that happen?"

"Some brat must've removed a fishplate. There was a blockade yesterday, so... luckily the driver spotted it, so he braked. Only the khobis-er (fiend's) 'kh' carriage-"

"It's fallen?"

"Not completely. It's toppled, skewed. The gay's 'g' carriage too."

"All right, be quiet. When will it be fixed?"

"It'll take time. Rescue crews will come from Dhaka after-"

"That'll be dawn by then. Not long ago the Parabat train near Sylhet derailed; it took ten hours to clear the line."

"I know, sir. The kangaroo's 'k' carriage had fully overturned."

I closed my eyes.

After a while Rubaiyet said, "How about this, sir? We get off and take the road instead of waiting for the line. It isn't very late. We can take a bus to Dhaka."

"Not bad," I said. "I have that damned seminar in the morning. Where are we now - tell me."

Rubaiyet stuck his head out the window and asked someone outside. He pulled his head back and said, "Methikanda. I think we're in Narsingdi."

"Hmm - Methikanda, a village in Raypur police station area of Narsingdi."

"Sir, do you know it?" Rubaiyet looked at me.

"Not exactly. But I've heard the name from Dr. Dipu. His home is in Narsingdi."

"That's why he could tell. Otherwise who remembers random place names?"

After waiting a bit more, we got off the train. Rubaiyet took my bag in his hand; his was slung over his left shoulder. I said I could carry my own bag, but he didn't listen. The two of us walked forward. For the first time in ages I heard the cricket's call.

We walked on. The light steadily dimmed.

I said, "I can't see any road. We're still in the midst of the beels (marshes)."

Rubaiyet said, "Where did you see a beel, sir? There's a village on the left. I can't tell whether we should go into the village or keep walking. Is Methikanda over?"

"How would I know?" I was winded after so much walking. Clouds parted to reveal the moon. It was a desolate area. No sign of people. "It wasn't right to get off the train without knowing where we were," I said in a slightly frustrated tone. "If any beast crosses our path, we can't run."

"Don't think badly, sir. There should be a main road here. Buses run," Rubaiyet said.

I said, "Why buses? I don't see any sign of other vehicles. Who knows whether there's a road at all. Did we come the wrong way?"

"Sir, I think there's a market ahead. I can see a few houses. Looks like a bazaar."

Under the moonlight I saw it was true: four or five small huts and an open space ahead.

"Sir, if there's a market there's a road too," Rubaiyet said.

"I haven't walked this far in a long time," I said. "I'm soaked in sweat."

"A bit further, sir."

There wasn't a drop of breeze.

The moon's faint light lent an eerie atmosphere.

I counted six houses in a row.

No lights were on inside.

Maybe people had fallen asleep, or they closed their shops and went in.

They were ordinary houses: tin roofs, wooden walls.

Small verandas out front.

All of them looked alike.

Yet for some reason my body trembled.

It felt as if something terrible lurked inside those houses!

Rubaiyet said, "Come, sir, let's rest on that veranda."

I said, "No. I won't sit there. Let's move on."

"Sir, are we lost?"

"I don't understand."

"Weird!"

"What?"

"Did you notice the name of this place, sir? See that broken signboard."

I read the sign nailed to a post: Sapmara Bazar. (Snake-bite Market)

"Hmm, an odd name," I said.

"Sir, what shall we do now? Take the left road? Or stay here? Or follow the rail line ahead?"

Suddenly I remembered I had a mobile in my pocket - why wasn't I calling someone?

I quickly pulled the phone from my pant pocket to call, but there was no network.

I told Rubaiyet; he took out his phone too.

"Sir, there's no network on mine either. Seems there's no tower around here."

"A completely out-of-the-way village."

"Yes, sir."

"The name is Sapmara Bazar."

"Yes, sir. A very strange name."

Leaving the houses behind we went forward.

Rubaiyet walked beside me.

We entered a garden.

An absolute, deep silence all around. Only the sound of our footsteps.

The surroundings were awash in blue light. No sign of people. An out-of-the-way village - perhaps everyone had slept. No howls of jackals or dogs. In such villages you'd at least hear a fox or a dog. It could be that in some villages people sleep early and even the jackals and dogs sleep early. Even the crickets.

"Where are we actually going?" I broke the silence.

"We need to find somewhere to pass the night," Rubaiyet said. "Honestly, sir, now I realize it was wrong for us to get off the train. Let's see if we find any houses ahead."

"Or a tea stall," I said. "I'm tired."

"Yes, sir, I'm tired. The air feels strange," Rubaiyet said.

Walking, Rubaiyet took out a water bottle from his shoulder bag. "Sir, drink some water. You'll feel better."

I said, "You drink first then give it to me."

Rubaiyet drank with a slurp from the bottle and handed it toward me. Before I could take hold of it I felt as if something brushed it and took it away - in less than a second. A shadow seemed to pass. A smell reached my nose.

Before we could recover from our astonishment, the bottle fell about ten feet away. Behind us we heard a shushing sound. Then the rustle of something moving away. I turned quickly, but there was nothing. It seemed something like a shadow had disappeared in the distance. We sprinted to the bottle. As I bent down to pick it up, Rubaiyet suddenly shouted, "Sir, don't touch it."

I looked at him. "Why?"

"Look, sir," he said. "It was a good bottle, half full. Now it's mangled, twisted. It looks like it was boiled in hot water. See, it's partially melted. I'm scared. What happened, sir, just now? Who seized the bottle? Come on, sir, let's run."

I was not unaffected either. I felt a bit frightened. Though the moon was generously shedding its light overhead, the place felt eerie. It felt like an abandoned, deserted village.

"Getting off the train was a mistake," Rubaiyet murmured. "A very bad mistake."

I said, "Let's go back."

Pointing toward the path we'd come from I said, "We came that way. If we go back that way we'll surely find the railway line. Once we find the rail line there's nothing to worry about."

"Back that way?" Rubaiyet asked uncertainly. "We've taken so many turns, who knows if we'll find the path again? It's night, sir. It's near two o'clock. There's no way we can wait here till morning."

"We still have to get out of here."

"Yes, sir. We must go."

"Let's take the return path."

"Yes, sir. That'll be best."

We turned and started walking again, but it felt like a different route. The vegetation grew denser. The moonlight grew fainter. Suddenly we heard the sound of a child wailing. We stopped. Complete silence again. Looking forward, a bunch of shadows shifted at once.

"We've lost our way," I said in a slightly trembling voice.

"This place is not normal," Rubaiyet answered.

"Shh - someone's coming!"

Rubaiyet and I stood shoulder to shoulder.

The road wasn't straight, so we couldn't see who was coming. Only the light sound of running footsteps. We stood quiet and then we saw him.

A boy!

I let out the breath I'd been holding.

The moonlight lit his face. Fear and alarm marked it. He hadn't noticed us. He was running, as if something were chasing him.

When he came near I grabbed one of his hands. He cried out "oh, daddy" and collapsed on my chest.

"Don't be afraid. Who are you?" I said.

"I... I..." he began stammering. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Tell us who you are!"

He looked at us, still panting. Between gasps he said, "You look like humans. Come on, get out of here. Don't delay."

"Tell us where you're from first!" I scolded. "Where are you going?"

"I'm Robin." He seemed to tremble uncontrollably. "There's our house over there," he pointed into the dark. "I left my brother and ran. I'm going to Daulatkandi, my mama's house."

"Why run so late at night? Why leave your brother? You're so little - alone like this-"

"They're going to eat my brother now. The ones who ate my father-"

"I don't understand what you're saying. What are you talking about?"

"I say they're eating my brother now. I know. My father had the same thing happen. Ah! The pain in his head. He went insane! Now my brother is the same. Let me go."

"No," I said. "Come, let us go to your house. We'll see your brother."

The boy stared at me in astonishment. He was maybe twelve or thirteen. Bare-chested, wearing half-pants, feet bare - a typical village boy.

"Are you crazy?" the boy said.

I said, "No, I'm a doctor. Come, let's see what's ailing your brother."

"There's no disease," he relaxed a bit. "It's the result of greed. I told brother, don't be greedy. Father is dying, you will die too. brother did not listen. By now they must have eaten him."

"Who will eat him?" I couldn't help sounding irritated.

"They will - those who ate my father."

"Who are 'they'?"

The boy, looking around in a low voice, whispered, "The snakes!"

I became plainly annoyed. "Snakes don't eat people. Have you seen that? What nonsense!"

"Yes, I saw," he said. "The snakes ate my father whole right before my eyes."

Now I felt chills run down my spine. It seemed the boy was not lying. A boy of that age would have no reason to lie, yet I whispered, "There's nothing to fear with me around. Come, let's go see your brother. You can't leave someone like that."

"But if they sense us-"

"Who?"

"The snakes!"

"Listen, child, maybe you've read or heard stories about snakes. You're mixing fantasy with reality. There's no such snake in the world."

The boy looked at me and said, "Then what about those houses?"

"What houses?"

"The ones by the roadside, at the entrance here. Six houses."

For some reason I shivered a little. I said, "What about the houses? Houses can be anywhere."

"No, those are the snakes' houses. They're big, like palm trees; all kinds of snakes live there. They eat people."

I stared at the boy. I said, "You haven't told me about your mother. Did a snake eat her too? Or has she gone elsewhere?"

He didn't understand my teasing. He said, "My mother died when I was born."

Throughout the walk Rubaiyet had hardly said a word, only occasionally glancing at the boy. I held the boy's hand, worried he might bolt. He walked as if he knew the whole path by heart. Finally he stopped and pointed, "There -"

In the moonlight I saw a wooden house. It was hard to tell if any light burned inside.

"You go. I won't go," the boy said.

I said, "It seems no one is at home. The light isn't on."

"Then by now they must have finished eating my brother," the boy said matter-of-factly.

Just then a cry arose from the house.

"My brother... the scoundrels are eating my brother..." the boy tried to wrench his hand free from mine. "Save my brother. Save him. He was wrong. He fell into greed, but he was a good man..."

I slapped the boy hard across the cheek. He crumpled and fell to the ground.

I told Rubaiyet, "Hold him-I'm coming."

I ran to the house.

I pressed my ear to the door. No sound came from inside.

Had the boy fabricated the whole story? All a child's imagination?

I tried to peek in.

It was so dark inside nothing was visible. Then I remembered I had a mobile - I could switch on its torch.

I took my phone out and turned on the light.

No - the surroundings were quiet, utterly still.

I searched the door for a gap to shine the torch through to see inside.

I found no crack. The door was closed from within.

I pushed it gently several times. Still shut. I went along to the back side of the house.

Wooden planks from floor to eaves.

Was there not even one window?

I trained the light on every board, carefully searching for openings.

Only then I noticed a small window on the west side of the room! Its sill was level with my throat when I stood. I went up and pushed the window gently and it opened. I raised the phone and shone the light in, and at the same time peered through. I don't remember whether I screamed. The sight inside will haunt me until death. I have never seen anything more dreadful in my life. In an instant, everything I feared became real.

It was as if they had known! Hence their utter silence. All of them were staring at me. Rows of teeth - each mouth agape. Saliva dripped from their mouths. I had no idea such hideous, ugly snakes existed in the world. They all reared up, hoods flared, aligned with my chest level. Black, scaly, terrifying. Huge mouths. On the floor lay a body, more than half eaten, mangled! I dropped the phone and ran.

Behind me came the children's wailing. I ran for my life. Seeing me run, the boy and Rubaiyet also started running. I couldn't dare look back. I ran desperately. Around me hissed sounds and children's cries. Running, I suddenly felt there was no ground beneath my feet - I leapt into air.

I fell. I don't know how long I was down.

With a splash I hit the water.

I plunged far below the surface. My breath was gone. I felt as if my chest would burst. I couldn't hold on. About to open my mouth, I bobbed up gasping.

My body had no strength at all.

I only tried to float on the water.

It seemed a fishing boat was passing by.

Seeing me, they came closer.

A few hands hauled me up.

I lost consciousness.

When I came to, sunlight was on my face. I sat up; my whole body ached. Several men and women circled me.

A young man said, "I saw you first. Sir, how did you end up in the middle of the river? What a current!"

"Hmm," another said. "At first I didn't even believe it was a person. If we hadn't found you, you wouldn't have survived. Look at the Meghna's current now!" I croaked, "Two others were with me. Have you seen them?"

"No, we only found you."

"I want to go to Dhaka. Arrange a microbus for me." I looked down quickly - I was wearing just a lungi.

"Sir, your pants were set out to dry. Everything's all right," someone said.

I put on pants and a shirt.

A man handed me my wallet.

I said, "Keep it with you."

"No, sir. You take your things. Whatever money there is is in your bag. We're not that greedy."

Greed! The boy's words echoed in my head.

What was his name? Robin. Yes, Robin.

I grew worried for him and for Rubaiyet. Were they all right?

Three months passed after that incident. In that time I had no contact with Rubaiyet. He didn't call me either. Now someone else handled our Brahmanbaria travel tickets. One day I asked the new ticket clerk about Rubaiyet. He twisted his face and said, "Don't speak of him, sir. Antennae grew on him. He was a rep of a medicine company; now he rides aliens. High-flying. Doesn't speak. Changed his phone number. He wouldn't recognize you if he saw you. I think he got involved in smuggling."

I said, "People change."

"Changed like that, sir? If a dog eats ghee, will it stay in the belly? I say it won't."

I said, "Let everyone be well in their own way - that should be the wish, right?"

He said, "Tsk. We both joined the company together. I still cut doctors' train tickets like a fool, and that bastard's gone riding aliens, saying 'father's money, like nobody else's.'"

When I return by train and it enters Methikanda, I look keenly toward the left of the track, but I don't spot any signboard for Sapmara Bazar. I don't see those six houses I once saw. I asked several doctors; they said many strange place names exist in the countryside - you can't expect to know them all. Eventually I too began to forget.

One afternoon I was heading to an event at Shahbag Central Public Library. My phone kept ringing from the same number. Normally I don't pick unknown numbers, so I kept cutting it off. But it rang so many times I finally answered, annoyed. "Hello?"

"Are you sir? Or his attendant?" a woman's voice asked.

"Sir," I said.

"Sir, I am Rubaiyet's wife," she said quickly. "I've been trying to reach you for days. I can't find you. Rubaiyet is very ill. He wants to tell you something. Please come, sir."

"What happened to him? He never keeps in touch."

"Please forgive the urgency, sir. Where are you? I'm sending a car. He's very sick."

"Which hospital? No need to send a car. I will come."

"Not hospitalized, sir. At home. Uttara Sector 14. Sir, I'll tell the driver. The car is in Gulistan."

"I'm at Shahbag. Send him to the public library. Give him my number."

"All right, sir. Thank you very much."

I didn't make it to the library event. A car arrived at the gate - brand new. The driver recognized me and hurried me in. He started driving with the horn blaring.

"Drive a bit slower," I cautioned now and then, but he didn't seem to heed. He drove as he pleased.

The AC's chill nearly lulled me to sleep. The driver's shout shook off the drowsiness. "Sir, we're here. Please get out."

A beautiful two-storied house. Green lawn and flowering shrubs in the front lane. As I stepped down, a young woman ran up. "Sir, I called you. Rubaiyet is in the upstairs room. Please come."

Climbing the stairs, I thought the boy must have done well.

I entered the room. I was shocked to see Rubaiyet. Who was this before me? A once-vibrant youth had turned into an old man overnight.

Blank eyes. Hair disheveled. More than half grayed. Dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept for days. Seeing me, he wheezed, "Sir, forgive me. I beg your pardon, sir, forgive me."

He truly tried to grab my feet. I stepped back quickly. "What's happened, Rubaiyet?"

"The fruits of sin, sir. I desired greed. Ugh..." He pressed his head with both hands.

"I am dying with pain." He pulled at his hair. "The pain is constant."

"Are you taking medicine?"

"Medicine!" he laughed like a hysteric. "Even if I took the whole pharmacy it wouldn't help. My head, sir, is tearing apart."

"Rubaiyet, calm down," I said.

"How can I calm, sir? I can't sleep. There's a scratching noise in my head. It feels like something is moving. Sometimes it seems a snake is being born inside my head, sir."

"What nonsense thoughts!"

"I'm telling the truth. It suddenly writhes and twists. The pain nearly kills me. Why couldn't I resist greed?"

"What greed?"

"When I touched that boy's bargain, he told me, sir, that boy whose brother the snakes ate!"

"Go on, I'm listening."

It was clearly hard for Rubaiyet to speak. Gasping, he said, "I couldn't find you, sir. I thought you'd gone into a snake's belly. That same night we went to Daulatkandi. That boy told the story of his brother's death. The snakes' wrath. There's a well there - full of poison. The snakes pour poison into it. His brother sold that poison. Do you know, sir, it's worth crores. Hearing that I couldn't control greed. See, sir, the expensive house I live in - bought with the money from snake venom. I took that boy with me during the day. We collected the poison in water bottles. If I had known they weren't ordinary snakes-"

Rubaiyet pressed his head hard with both hands.

"Sir, I am dying, sir. The pain - my head - it's tearing apart."

I watched his body writhe in agony. Look closely and you might think a snake was inside him.

He made strange sounds, bending his neck. I didn't know what to do.

When I stepped closer, he waved his hand in warning. "Sir-sir-sir..." that was all he could say. A sudden sound erupted.

At the same time, as if from within him, a childlike wail rose.

He collapsed.

His skull was shattered.

I stared wide-eyed. Where the brain should have been, there was nothing.

A coiled snake!

Hissing, it slithered out from inside Rubaiyet's head. Black, ugly. Its tail flicking, tongue darting occasionally. Its mouth slightly open, rows of teeth glinting. I stood frozen, like a stone.

The snake had flared a huge hood.

The hissing filled the room.

The sound swelled and soon the entire room was filled with hissing.

I lost the strength to run.

Rubaiyet lay on the floor.

The snake went toward his feet. It sank its fangs into a thigh as though seizing prey, tore off a chunk of flesh, and began to chew. I vomited.

The snake turned and looked at me. How ghastly it was! Its eyes glowed. It seemed to give a hiss with pursed lips!

The room filled with hissing. Astonishingly, more snakes were entering through the window!

I tried to count them but couldn't. Black, fleshy snakes.

They seemed not to notice me.

They gathered in groups.

Then all at once they leapt upon Rubaiyet's corpse!