(One)
“Doctor Saab, will I be able to walk again like before?”
Tamoghno asked the question just moments before the anesthesia pulled him under.
Dr. Sarkar smiled gently and reassured him, “There’s absolutely nothing to worry about. Organ transplantation has become quite advanced now. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be able to move around just like before.”
Relieved, Tamoghno closed his eyes. He wondered to himself—could this really be possible?
The accident had happened about five years ago. Tamoghno was driving home from the office when a reckless truck came hurtling toward him, colliding head-on. The truck crushed his car so badly that half his body ended up trapped under the steering wheel. In the end, they had to amputate both his legs below the knee to pull him out.
Since then, Tamoghno had been disabled. His life had become confined to a wheelchair. At times, he felt utterly hopeless and helpless. Every moment, he yearned to be free from this disability, and he was willing to pay any price for it. It was precisely then that he heard about Dr. Binod Sarkar.
Word was that this surgeon had helped countless disabled people return to normal life through organ transplantation. Through a friend, Tamoghno arranged to visit Dr. Sarkar’s clinic. After running some tests, the doctor had said, “I’ll let you know once we find an organ donor.”
Finally, this week, that long-awaited call came. After so much waiting, today Tamoghno was about to return to a normal life. The long nightmare was about to end.
(Two)
As consciousness returned, the first question that struck Tamoghno was—where am I?
A spotlessly clean room enclosed by glass walls. He was lying on a soft white bed. The air conditioner hummed silently overhead, and his body felt heavy. Slowly, fragmented memories of the past four hours began to surface. The harsh lights in the operating theater, whispered conversations, and… had he glimpsed another person lying on the bed beside him?
Gathering his courage, he lifted his torso slightly and looked down. Wonder and joy flooded through him, his eyes widening. Yes, Dr. Sarkar had done it! Below his bandaged knees were two perfectly formed legs of flesh and blood. Though he couldn’t feel much sensation in them yet—just a numb, tingling feeling—he believed that now that things had come this far, the rest would heal with time.
“You’re awake?” Dr. Sarkar’s voice startled Tamoghno.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, he said, “Yes, sir. You’re not human, you’re God! I can never repay this debt in my entire life.”
Dr. Sarkar smiled faintly and said, “Please don’t embarrass me with your praise. This is my duty. Everything is the will of the Almighty; we are merely instruments.”
Tamoghno asked eagerly, “How many more days before I can walk, sir?”
“For now, you’ll need to stay under observation for seven days. After that, we’ll discharge you. Can you wait just seven days?”
Tamoghno replied excitedly, “Why not? When I’ve waited this long, what are seven more days!”
(Three)
Today was the last of the seven days. Initially, the legs had bothered him a bit. It felt as if they were much older than the rest of his body. The skin seemed wrinkled somehow. But now he had shaken off that discomfort. One shouldn’t find fault with one’s own body.
He had returned home today. But he was noticing a strange change in his body. Earlier, he never felt particularly hungry—he ate just enough to survive. But now it was as if there was a ravenous hunger in his belly. Even after eating voraciously since morning, the hunger wouldn’t subside. The doctor had said, of course, that such minor psychological or physical changes could happen after a major operation.
His legs hadn’t fully regained their strength yet; he had to walk with crutches. Sitting in the easy chair was becoming tiresome. He tucked the crutch under his arm and stood up. Walking through the veranda, he stopped in front of the large mirror in the dining room.
An antique mirror, bought at great expense from an auction. The mirror had never betrayed him, but today it did. He was startled by his own reflection. Had his face changed somehow? Or was it just the monotony of sitting in one place for so long?
To lift his spirits, he left the house and went to the park nearby. There weren’t many people in the park, just Arunabh Babu sitting on a bench, which surprised him a little. The gentleman lived in the neighboring complex. A few days ago, he had fallen in the bathroom, suffered a head injury, and slipped into a coma. There had been almost no hope of recovery. Tamoghno hadn’t known that he had returned home healthy.
He went and sat beside Arunabh Babu. The gentleman looked at him but didn’t seem to recognize him. So Tamoghno started the conversation himself, “When did you get back?”
Arunabh Babu replied vaguely, “Just two days ago.”
“Your head injury healed?”
“Yes, completely fit now.”
Tamoghno smiled and said, “I also returned just this morning. After Dr. Binod Sarkar’s operation, I got my legs back.”
Hearing this, Arunabh Babu looked at him with narrowed eyes. He whispered, “You also got treated by Binod Sarkar?”
Tamoghno was surprised. “Yes, why do you ask?”
In a hushed voice, Arunabh Babu said, “I also got my treatment from him. Listen, I’m not the person you think I am. Since you’re also Dr. Binod’s patient, I won’t hide it from you. But mind you, keep this secret.”
Tamoghno’s curiosity grew. “You can tell me without fear.”
“My name is Haren Sarkar. I was a bus conductor. One day, without warning, a stroke struck me down and left my body paralyzed. My mind remained awake, but my body refused to obey. For seven long years, I lived through a living hell. Then one day, I heard about Binod Babu. He had said he was looking for a patient who was brain-dead. Around that very time, Arunabh Babu met with a terrible accident. His sons were desperate to save him. Dr. Sarkar performed the brain transplant with such precision, in such little time, that when I finally opened my eyes, I realized I had become someone else. My only sorrow is this—Haren Sarkar no longer exists. From now on, I must live my entire life pretending to be Arunabh Bose.”
Regret dripped from his voice. Tamoghno said, “Doesn’t it trouble you to carry someone else’s existence on your shoulders?”
Arunabh Babu laughed scornfully. “You fool! Do you know what I went through for seven years? Constant taunts from my daughters-in-law, neglect from my children… and now? A full household with wife, sons, grandchildren, and endless money. I owe it all to doctors like Dr. Binod. They’re not human, they’re gods!”
Tamoghno nodded. Arunabh Babu had just echoed his own thoughts. As evening approached, he slowly made his way home.
(Four)
The next morning, Tamoghno woke with a start. Where was he now?
This was the bench in the park! Yesterday, he had been sitting right here, talking with Arunabh Babu. But how did he end up here? He clearly remembered going to bed in his own room last night, wearing his pyjamas.
In the middle of the night, he had a nightmare—in the hazy darkness, someone standing under a tree was calling out to him, “Come… come…”
Could it be that he had responded to that call and walked here in his sleep? The whole thing was very mysterious. Dr. Sarkar had said there might be some mental changes after the operation, but this?
His legs still didn’t have full strength; wandering out suddenly like this could be dangerous. Tamoghno decided he would meet Dr. Sarkar very soon.
(Five)
These days, his legs had come under much better control. He now went out for regular evening walks. That particular night, after returning, he was feeling very tired.
Just as he stood before the mirror before going to bed, a cold current ran down his spine. What was he seeing! In these few days, he seemed to have aged ten years. The hair on his head had turned white, and the clear marks of old age were stamped on his face.
Tamoghno placed his hand on the mirror; it felt as if the reflection too was looking back at him with pitying eyes. Was he growing old? Just then, from somewhere deep inside his chest, someone called out, “Come… come…” And then he remembered nothing more.
In the morning, he woke to water splashing on his face. Opening his eyes, he saw he was lying on the porch of an unfamiliar gentleman’s house.
The man said irritably, “What a heavy sleeper you are, mister! I’ve been calling and calling, no response. Finally had to throw water.”
Stunned, Tamoghno said, “How did I get here?”
The gentleman said, “You should know better. I woke up this morning to find you blocking my door. All these drunkards!”
Ashamed, Tamoghno rushed straight to Dr. Sarkar’s clinic. After hearing everything, the doctor grew serious.
“This shouldn’t be happening. There’s only one explanation—you have somnambulism, or sleepwalking. All these years, since you didn’t have legs, the condition couldn’t manifest. Now that you have legs, it’s reared its head.”
“Is there no cure for this disease, Doctor Saab?”
“Of course there is. But for now, I’m giving you a simple remedy. Install a sensor alarm on your bedroom door. The moment the door opens, the alarm will sound and you’ll wake up. This should at least reduce the risk of wandering outside in your sleep.”
Following the doctor’s advice, Tamoghno installed the alarm that very day. But peace of mind did not return. Every day, it seemed he was aging more and more. And every night when he went to bed, he heard that call—”Come… come…”
(Six)
That evening, he had gone out for a walk to clear his mind. Lost in thought, he wandered off course and entered a narrow alley. The place was quite dirty, with makeshift huts. Suddenly, he heard a muffled argument coming from inside one of the huts.
One person was saying, “Do you think I don’t know anything? You’ve pocketed five lakh rupees and you think you can fool me with one lakh? I’ll go straight to the police.”
The other pleaded, “Brother, don’t do this. I’m giving you another lakh, but I don’t have any more right now…”
Thieves dividing their loot? Tamoghno’s heart trembled. This wasn’t a good area—the slum near Nimaipur. Better to get out of here. He quickly walked out of the alley and found himself on the highway.
The place seemed familiar. Five years ago, this was exactly where his accident had happened. By sheer coincidence, he had ended up here today.
(Seven)
That night, sleep wouldn’t come. Tamoghno tossed and turned in bed. Inside his mind, that call grew more intense—”Come… come… come to me…”
Was this the midnight call? He had barely fallen into a light doze when the alarm jolted him awake. In fear and astonishment, he saw that he was opening the door and walking out!
But he wanted to stop—yet his legs wouldn’t listen! It was as if someone else was controlling them.
He left the house and began to walk. A huge moon hung in the sky, with pale moonlight flooding everything. On the deserted road, only the sound of his footsteps echoed. Tamoghno’s heart was pounding in his throat, yet he couldn’t stop.
Beyond the city, through bushes and thickets, he finally stopped at a riverbank. The place was a cremation ground. All around were piles of burnt wood and ash. A night bird flew overhead with a harsh cry.
Only then did Tamoghno regain control over himself. The river water murmured as it flowed. Suddenly, a bone-chilling howl of a jackal rang out.
Just as Tamoghno was about to faint from fear, something caught his eye in one corner of the cremation ground. Under the large banyan tree, someone wrapped in a white sheet was sitting and coughing harshly.
As he approached, he saw it was an emaciated old man. Hearing the footsteps, the old man said without lifting his head, “Who is it? Sudhir, is that you?”
Tamoghno said in a trembling voice, “No, sir, I’m…”
The old man said, “Forgive me, son. The sound of your footsteps felt so familiar, I thought my son Sudhir had come.”
“Who is Sudhir? Your son? Why are you sitting here alone?”
The old man sighed deeply and said, “On the way back from the nursing home, they left me sitting here under this tree. Said they’d bring the car, but haven’t returned yet. My home is in the slum nearby. I have two sons, Sudhir and Adhir. After the factory closed, we fell on hard times. I lived with my elder son.”
Tamoghno asked, “Why did you go to the nursing home?”
“Did I go willingly? It was the lure of money. My elder son came and said my blood was a very rare group. A rich patient needed blood, couldn’t find it anywhere. The doctor said whoever donates blood will get five lakh rupees. So I went. The patient survived receiving my blood, but I fell very ill. When my son saw after leaving the nursing home that his father could no longer work as before, he abandoned me here.”
Tamoghno felt deep sympathy. He said, “How cruel! For money, to abandon your own father like this? But the fault is also that doctor’s, who dangled the money. Do you know the doctor’s name?”
The old man said, “I don’t know the name of the nursing home, son, but I did hear the doctor’s name—Binod Sarkar.”
Binod Sarkar! The moment he heard the name, the sky came crashing down on Tamoghno’s head. The one he had considered God was actually the devil!
Composing himself, Tamoghno said, “But you can’t just lie here like this. Come, let me take you somewhere.”
The old man now laughed a strange laugh. “Who gives shelter to a dead man, Babu?“
Tamoghno’s throat went dry. “W-what do you mean?”
The old man’s voice suddenly changed, and he laughed shrilly.
“Twenty days ago, while taking my blood, Binod Sarkar killed me! Since dying, this has been my dwelling. I was going to die one day anyway, so I have no regrets about that. **My only sorrow is—**after I died, I can’t find my legs anymore. I keep calling them, but they won’t come to me… where have my legs gone?”
As he spoke, the old man removed the sheet from his body.
Tamoghno’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Under the sheet, the old man’s flesh had rotted and fallen off, his ribs were visible. And… from below the knees, there were no legs! There, a perfectly executed operation had been performed, with bandages wrapped around the stumps.
In one moment, the entire mystery became clear to Tamoghno. These legs actually belonged to this dead old man! And that’s why the old man’s restless spirit kept calling out to his own legs—”Come… come…”
Screaming in fear and terror, Tamoghno turned and began to run. That bone-chilling wail still floated on the wind—
“Oh son, wait! Won’t you please tell me where my legs are…”
