Unbearable silence

            The voices of complaint are the loudest. So why doesn't anyone hear them? Why did nobody hear how the most powerful family in Calcutta was exterminated in one day? Why hadn’t they turn a blind eye to the vices of their killers when they made business deals with that ones? Why was there such silence and nothing but disinterest in people’s hearts?       Jyostana was taking care of the flowers in the garden.       "Who is this standing there? Our mother.” said Ashiq, bringing his daughters to her. Turning around, Jyotsana smiled with inherent calm and mystery, like the moon rising at night. Noticing the appearance of his beloved, Mr. Khan smiled, remembering their first meeting.       "Look, Amala, this is a rose..." She spoke soothingly, taking the eldest in her arms. As soon as she pulled her tiny fingers towards the stem, Jyotsana stopped her hand, “Her petals are tender, but the stem stings the most painfully.”       "Mom, why does the rose prick?"       "The good must wield an iron fist in a velvet glove, otherwise it will be ruined. How will a rose bloom if everyone tugs at its bud? Everyone should have their own protection."       The husband looked at her with interest, as if this story was intended for him too. Jyostana smiled serenely.        “It’s better for me,” he told about Amala, “you don’t need to carry something heavy.”       "I am healthy enough to carry my children." she answered proudly.       "For now, I’m on it." He looked back at the youngest, blissfully looking at the treasured red buds from the height of the pot. Ashiq lifted her too, bending her towards the bud so that she could smell it. Aliya snorted blissfully, parodying her father. He laughed:       "That’s right, if you inhale, do so deeply. Did you like it?"       Aliya turned her eyes full of delight at him.       "It’s okay, we’ll come and smell it some more. With your mother's hand, even a stick will turn into a tree." Said Ashiq.       "Is mom a magician?" Amala jumped back in admiration.       "Of course! A real magician,” Ashiq began to talk with inspiration about all the advantages of Jyotsana.       Having met Indira, he bowed:       “Good afternoon, Indira ji, may God be with you today."       Indira arched an eyebrow when she heard about God, glancing at her son-in-law with an eloquent glance. She answered tightly:       "Good afternoon, Ashiq. I wish a wonderful day to you too." Indira perked up a little when she saw the children. "How are my little ones?"       She patted Amala and Aliya's cheeks, smiling contentedly.       "My smart girls. You are making great progress in your studies. I am proud of you."       "Grandma, did you know that a flower begins with the “f” and ends with the “r”? I didn’t know, and it only has six letters!" Aliya jabbered, holding out six fingers. Indira and Ashik laughed:       "No, my dear, I didn’t know." Indira stroked her on the head. Having softened, she turned to Ashiq: “Where are you going now?”       "Now we are going to study." He looked sympathetically at his daughters, as if asking them for permission. They, of course, winced and whined, “Well, what is this? You need to study more than anything else. Tell me, can an unlearned person comprehend love? Hm?"       "He can’t..." Amala said reluctantly, playing with his shirt.       "Okay,” Ashik said with inspiration, looking into the distance, “come on, tell me the five main words..."       Like the counting rhyme that Ashiq walked to the beat of, the daughters repeated aloud words from mixed languages:       "Pyar, Ishq, Prem, Mohabbat, Bhalapasha..."       "And I know one more word “love”!," Amala exclaimed.       "Which one?"       "Ashiq!"       Ashiq laughed heartily, kissing her on the top of her head.       "My beloved. You are also my little Ashiq."       Jyotsana saw him off for a long time.       "Who would have known that a name determines one’s fate in such a way. I should be as cold as moonlight, but I melt from his love too. How can you love the whole world?"       "Love, love everywhere..." Indira grumbled, "What does he teach children..." She sighed, "When they have only pyar on their minds, you will grab your head: “what to do”? Your friend is forgetting what kind of world we live in." Jyotsana rolled her eyes.       "That’s the point, he knows very well. He just knows how not to focus on the little things that ruin our lives. And if I were you, I would think: how can a person who has been abandoned by his family, who is not ready to be accepted into my family, continue to live with an open soul and smile at all adversities?"       "Spare me from this nonsense! She seems to be an adult already, but only fairy tales on her mind."       "Oh, enough of that. We won't get anywhere anyway. Did you want something?"       "I wanted to talk to you about business, if your head is free."       "She is always free, because the ability to look at things positively is not a vice or fun, but a way of life. However, as I asked, let's leave it at that."       Indira sighed.       "We have problems with supplies. Suppliers, one after another, suddenly terminate contracts. Obviously, their competitors are taking them over. But only one person can offer more."       They looked at each other heavily.       "And what do you propose to do with these Doobeys?"       "Well, not to kill! Why are you looking at me like that? You have to think before they ruin us!"       "Praise loyal employees." Jyotsana thoughtfully sorted through the flowers. "Those enterprises that stayed with us should receive more than they have now. We need to give them privileges."       "Where does so much money come from to give everyone privileges?" Indira grinned, "We need to find out the work of Vimal’s company. Somewhere, he might have a file lying around for some article about fraud. And if not, we can arrange it."       "Mom, if you use such unclean methods, you will lose trust among conscientious partners."       "Leave this nonsense outside the walls of our house! There is not a drop of kindness and generosity around, where do they get a conscience, and a clear one at that?" Indira spat venomously, "Sounds like the beginning of a good joke."       "And what, do you want to attribute the four hundred and twentieth article to the Doobeys? You understand that someone will be imprisoned then. And then we will definitely be pulled along."       "They won’t imprison you. Because they will hush it up. But they will still suffer losses, they will smell our trail and will not interfere in our business."       "And they will send commissions in the same way to search for our sins. And, like you, falsify them. I don't want to work like that. Dealing with your conflicts for the rest of your life... No way."       "Then put the business in the hands of your fiancé." Indira was offended, "He will definitely give everything away on the first day. An idiot."       "This is where you are wrong. Good-natured, but not crazy. And he knows a lot about your affairs, whatever they may be."        “That’s it, stop it, I don’t want to hear anything about him,” Indira waved it off. “Then suggest how I should act so as not to be a burden to your old age! Poach suppliers from the Doobeys? So what?"       "At least, yes. Better this than the bloodthirsty plans you propose."       "You are very frivolous, Jyotsana. It doesn't let you think rationally."       "You are too hot-tempered, mom. Sometimes you should stop worrying about useless things and inventing clever methods."       "Perhaps I need to walk through the garden and dance, admiring nature, so that our business will go uphill?!"       "Yes." Jyotsana raised her eyebrows slightly as she filled the feeder. Indira inhaled noisily, frowning indignantly.       "Someday it will come to you, Jyotsana. And you will suffer greatly."       "I hope not by your hand?", She looked just as lightly at her mother.       Indira's face burned with anger. Pressing her lips tightly together, she rushed into the house with lightning speed, to which Jyotsana only shrugged.       "Let's see what literacy your Sunni barbarian will teach your children!" Indira shouted furiously, limping into the house. Jyotsana exhaled, calming down. After waiting for her mother to leave, she went to the second floor to see little Ambika.       There were screams and the roar of weapons. Jyotsana froze on the terrace, clutching her heart. A rumbling approaching curse could be heard. They broke windows and broke down doors. She didn't know what happened. Jyostana ran headlong into her youngest daughter's room. The maid Razia was already running towards her, frightened, with a wrapped baby:       "Madam, what?!.." She screamed, shaking.       "Run out the back door and don't look back!" She pushed her away, ran forward, looking around the second floor, “Mom, where are you? Mother?!"       Nobody responded. Fearing the worst, she ran to the first floor. The rooms were spinning before my eyes. Neither Ashiq nor his daughters were anywhere. Hearing the rending scream of Jaffar's the servant, she rushed in the direction where the noise came from. There was no way out: everyone at home was on the side of the attack. Before she had time to run, she was grabbed from behind. Someone prepared to death bit into his hands:       "Gotcha, birdie?" Jyostana unsuccessfully struggled:       "Go away, monster! Who sent you?"       "The one whose place you take!"       Jyotsana's eyes flashed. Hearing her husband's scream, she again tried to break free. The unexpected force made the bandit confused. Jyostana had already leaned forward, but she was immediately surrounded by two who arrived in time. They put a bag over my head. Fearing that she would be strangled, Jyotsana put her hands under her neck, but the rope did not tighten. She was loaded onto a sharp shoulder. Jostana did not stop resisting, to which she now received blows with a rifle butt and endless abuse. Exhausted, she screamed heart-rendingly, gasping for breath. The sound of clicks was heard. It was her husband who tried to defend the honor of their house.       "Jyotsana!" He screamed heart-rendingly, rushing towards her. Losing her voice, she shouted his name, but no one heard it.       “Finish him,” the bandit carrying her said indifferently.       "No! No!" Jyotsana screamed frantically, breaking free. They should have heard her now. The blood rushed disgustingly to my head.       "What an obnoxious girl!" Having stolen the bag already on the street, the bandit hit her in the face with a flourish.       "Jyotsana!" Ashiq rushed towards her, which others took advantage of, knocking the family sword out of his hands and hitting her back. Jyotsana, crying, threw herself at the bandit’s feet:       "I beg you, kill me, but don’t touch him, don’t hit him! I beg you, leave him alive!"       "Will you be silent?" The bandit smiled playfully.       "I will, I will, just please, leave him alone," She reached for her feet, disheveled, having lost her former greatness.       "Okay, let the ragamuffin in!" He said imperiously "But put this bag on anyway."       "Where are the infidels going?..."       "Let him come with us, he still won’t wake up!"       It was the most painful for Jyotsana to hear such words. They dragged her into the car, throwing her like a load, and drove her around the city, knowing in advance that nothing would happen to them for this. With her hands folded in prayer, she whispered all the known mantras, asking for her husband’s salvation. She tearfully prayed for her children, for her mother, hoping that she would survive. Tears soaked the bag.       "We've arrived!" The bandit said impudently, throwing her out of the car. Jyostana crawled on the ground, trying to figure out where she was. The bag was stolen. She raised her eyes with heaviness, blinded by the merciless sun. People crowded into the sandy square. Vimal was seated on the throne. Jyotsana's hands were shaking.       "Come on, untie the poor thing!" He said, admiring his own performance.       "What do you want?" Jyostana croaked, without taking her eyes off.       "What do I want?" He repeated mockingly, “Perhaps you would marry me? As your mom promised?"       "You are cruel. Besides, you don’t understand this. Only a crazy woman will marry you."       "Don’t you dare talk about Sitara like that!" He leaned forward, insulted. “She is a real Indian woman, unlike you, your nasty family. What can you do now? So rebellious, strong, and in chains. You can't move without mommy. What are you capable of?"       "I am able to live. But you don't. Because you will never achieve your goal."       "Shut up, damn woman! - He roared. - Rao, whip!"       A man with a whip immediately moved towards her. Jyotsana looked up expectantly. Without regret, as if he had been waiting for this for a long time, he slashed her back.       "No, Jyotsana!" A heart-rending cry was heard from Ashiq, who miraculously escaped. Mutilated, covered in dust and sand, with the last of his strength he ran to his wife. “Stop! What are you doing?”       They attacked him, starting to torment him, tossing him around like a vegetable sack. It was not difficult to knock down the exhausted man. With what ecstasy they beat him as he lay on the ground, shouting out the same name in hope:       "Jyotsana! Jyotsana... Jyotsana..."       Jyotsana couldn't stand this.       "Please, enough, enough!" She roared furiously, “What do you want?!”       "I want justice!" Vimal's eyes were bloodshot, "You must marry me!"       Jotsana grinned.       "Do you want to marry a corpse?"       "Corpse?" Vimal thought.       "I will never marry you. My soul will die with you, you will only get the body."       Vimal shook his head, laughing.       "Who did you choose Jyotsana? This churl?" He pointed to the rags that Ashik’s clothes had turned into. "Look, even a blind man won’t call him governor!"       Jyotsana's eyes filled with tears of pity.       "It doesn't means that you bad if you love someone. But that person, who laugh at love is really awful"       "So you laughed at my love!" He mimicked, grimacing, “Look,” he extended his palms, “The entire Basu village was killed with these hands. All your uncles, aunties... There will be no one to babysit your children. You are alone in this world. Do you think I can't marry you?"       “You are a monster,” Jyotsana looked at him with eyes full of disappointment. “I’d rather be martyred than be with you.”       Vimal looked through it thoughtfully. Jyotsana shook her head eagerly, the wind was ruffling her hair.       "You won't get anything from life. Because of your greed, you will spend the rest of your life in poverty. And you will be strangled by yourself."       "Shut your filthy mouth!" He slapped her in the face, his eyes blazing with rage. Ashiq, lying on the ground, twitched and groaned. "Get that worm out of here!" Vimal angrily commanded, "And you look, wifey, look." He turned her head, "Look, how pathetic your chosen one is."       Ashiq was dragged along the ground. Jyotsana's heart hurts, but beats proudly. She said confidently, looking at Vimal straightly:       "I only see a real man who has true power over the world, unlike you. And even at his feet I would find more peace than in your arms."       His gaze trembled unkindly.       "Shyam, blade." He gave it. Constantly looking into the calm eyes, Vimal raised his point, trying to solve the riddle.       Jyotsana did not raise her eyes, ready for torture. Vimal lifted her head, placing the blade on her neck. The tip soared upward twice, Ashiq howled, soaring to the sky:       "No, Jyotsana!" Falling into the hands of those holding him.       The crowd gasped. Vimal looked back at the people, calling for silence. Few people paid attention to him. Everyone began to run home, making noise. Vimal looked at them irritably, grimacing.       "Open fire. The less it runs, the better."       The order was obediently carried out. People fell over dead. The square turned red.       "Experience the power of the wounded Doobey!"       "Sir, what should we do with the bastard?" Rao waved at Ashiq.       "Throw into the desert."       "We haven't find the children yet."       "Don't stop searching. The Basu family must be destroyed. And catch prisoners. Everyone to the dungeon. Threaten with imprisonment those who do not want to obey."       "I will complete the mission, sir."       It was a terrifying heat. Ashiq was dragged onto the hot sand and his hands were untied. He only managed to raise his head, plaintively asking:       "Please, tell me, where are my children?"       The employee winced, giving him a good push on the shoulder. Ashiq, unable to keep his balance, fell from the sandy slope, burning his body.       "Go and look for your relatives!" The guard barked and chuckled. The car body slammed shut and the man moved back.       The Arabian Desert began here. The line of death, beyond which not a single prisoner returned. After some time, Ashiq recovered and stood up. My head was unbearably hot. The rising wind scratched my face with dust and sand. Shading his eyes, Ashiq eagerly looked to the south, rushing there. One name never ceased on his lips:       "Jyotsana..."       Tugging his sore leg behind him, he walked towards his wife and children, never giving up trying. Ahead was an endless golden sea of ​​sand.       The story of endless love should have remained in memory. But no one had the strength to meet her halfway. People like Ashiq are usually called madmen. It was precisely this fame that he earned for himself through his love for the world. However, the story did not end there. Somewhere three small flowers were blooming, which only began to grow thorns to live in this cruel world.