A King in Hiding Read Free Page A

the tournament! I beat grown ups! I beat Indians !’
    Next day, she told the whole neighbourhood about my triumphs. She said that one day I would take part in the world championship, she was sure. People congratulated me. I felt proud.
    That evening my father brought the newspapers home. There were stories about me: ‘Bangladeshi Boy (7) Wins Kolkata Chess Tournament’, and ‘A Champion in the Making’!
    Life was good.

Chapter 3
    MY LIFE IS OVER

    XP : Bangladesh is a young country with a troubled history. East Bengal was first established when Bengal was divided in 1946; when India gained its independence the following year, East Bengal became part of Pakistan. From 1955 it became East Pakistan, and in 1971 it declared independence as Bangladesh. The political life of this new state was punctuated by a succession of military coups, assassination attempts and violent rivalries between the two main parties. It was in the run-up to a presidential election, when political tensions were running particularly high, that more personal events were to impinge directly on Fahim’s family and tear his peaceful life apart.

    People were talking on the radio about the coming elections, which were constantly postponed, and about demonstrations. Soon we could hear gunfire in the streets. The army was firing on the protestors. It sounded like there was a war going on. Our parents said we mustn’t go out, first of all in the evening because of the curfew, and then, when it got too dangerous, in the daytime too. The streets were deserted.
    The grown-ups would talk about what was going on. They were frightened. The more frightened they became, the more they talked. They said the police were hunting down the protestors. That they were going into houses, beating the people who lived there, searching them, turning everything upside down looking for weapons, stealing money. When they found the people they were looking for, they treated them like criminals. They made up robberies, murders, whatever, so that they could arrest them, throw them in prison, and sometimes have them executed.
    My father seemed preoccupied. He spent less and less time playing chess and more and more time on the telephone. He talked to people I didn’t know. He looked serious. Sometimes I would overhear snatches of his conversations with my uncles or my grandfather, about people who were jealous of the club’s success, and about the tournaments I was winning.
    Several times people came to our house, forcing their way in and demanding to see my father. They asked lots of questions that I didn’t understand. They searched the house, made lots of noise and woke up the baby, who started to cry. Jhorna and I would hide behind our mother. They went away, and then they came back again. They shouted, asking again where my father was, but my mother said nothing and stayed calm, even when the baby really screamed. Before they went away they looked at me, and I was scared. I didn’t know what they wanted. After they’d gone my mother went and hid, and I found her crying. That made me angry. No one had the right to hurt my mother. I hated those men. If I’d been bigger, I would have stood up for her. But I didn’t even know how to comfort her.
    There was a family meeting to discuss it all, with my uncles, aunts and grandparents. One evening, my parents called me into the living room. Looking grave, they explained that I mustn’t go outside any more. Not for any reason. Not ever, not even to go to school. Too bad, I could study at home. They explained that some very serious things were happening, and that they were afraid I might be kidnapped. I didn’t know what made them think that, but they looked very serious. And things like that did happen in our country. If people wanted to hurt someone, they’d take it out on his son. Ever since I was little I’d heard stories of children being snatched away and never seen