It was a Saturday. Father came back from the office early. When he heard from mother what had happened he locked me up in my room.

Although my cheeks smarted from the slaps, I wasn?t really sorry for myself. I was very sorry for the ants. Once in Sahibgunj where cousin Parimal lives, there was a collision between two trains which killed three hundred people. Today it took Chhiku only a few seconds to kill so many ants!

It seemed so wrong, so very, very wrong.

As I lay in bed thinking of all that had happened, I suddenly felt a little chilly and had to draw the blanket over me.

And then I went off to sleep. I was awakened by a strange noise. A thin, high pitched sound, very beautiful, going up and down in a regular beat, like a song.

I pricked up my ears and looked around but couldn?t make out where the sound came from. Probably someone far away was singing. But I had never heard such singing before.

Look who?s here! An ant came out of the drainpipe while I was listening to the strange sound.

This time I clearly recognised him ? the ant I had saved from drowning. He was facing me and salaaming me by raising his two front legs and touching his head with them. What shall I call this black creature? Kali, Krishna? I must think about it. After all, one can?t have a friend without a name. I put my hand on the window sill palm upwards. The ant brought his legs down from the head and crawled slowly towards my hand. Then it climbed up my little finger and started scurrying over the crisscross lines on my palm.

Just then I gave a start as I heard a sound from the door, and the ant clambered down and disappeared into the drainpipe.

Now mother came into the room and gave me a glass of milk. Then she felt my forehead and said I had fever again.

Next morning the doctor came. Mother said, ?He had been restless the whole night, and kept saying Kali again and again.? Mother, probably thought I was praying to the Goddess Kali, because I hadn?t told her about my new friend.

The doctor had put the stethoscope on my back when I heard the song again. It was louder than yesterday and the tune was different. It seemed to come from the window, but since the doctor had asked me to keep still, I couldn?t turn my head to see.

The doctor finished his examination, and I cast a quick glance towards the window. Hullo there! It was a large black ant this time, and this one too was salaaming me. Are all ants my friends then? And was it this ant which was singing?

But mother said nothing about a song. Did it mean she couldn?t hear it?

I turned towards mother to ask her, and found her staring at the ant with fear in her eyes. The next moment she picked up my arithmetic notebook from the table, leaned over me and with one slap of the book squashed the ant. The same moment the singing stopped.

?The whole house is crawling with ants!? said mother. ?Just think what would happen if one crawled inside you ear.?

(Illustrations by Suman Choudhury)

To be continued

The Little World of Sadananda, translated from Bangla by the author, Satyajit Ray, first appeared in the children?s magazine, Target, edited by Rosalind Wilson. It was later published in the short story collection, The Carpenter?s Apprentice, by Katha, a non-profit organisation and publishing house based in New Delhi