"I want to live. Please, don't kill me."
He was astonished by this unexpected plea.
He did not enjoy killing. If it wasn't absolutely necessary, he didn't want to walk that path. But he had shown that necessity. He had no choice.
Again, he was taken aback-
"If you want, can you kill me?"
"Yes, if needed, I can. I'm capable of that."
"Can't you also save me? What's stopping you?"
"I can do that too." His voice sounded mockingly confident.
"Can you really? I want to see that power of yours."
Now, it is as if he is throwing a challenge at him. The pleading has disappeared from his voice. Instead of helplessness, there is now a simmering anger.
He stared at him with a fixed gaze. Then he turned his eyes outside through the open window in front. At this moment, the morning mist was slowly lifting its veil of layers, making way for the day. The drops of dew gathered on the leaves were quickly disappearing, erasing the last traces of the night. With the waking sun, preparations for the new day began throughout nature. Silent preparations. From the gloom of darkness to the emergence of a new day – he enjoyed this entire time.It has been his long-standing habit to leave bed too early in the morning. During this time, his mind remains clear. Thinking, contemplating, or making decisions becomes easy. But today, his thoughts are hindered. He is forced to pause. He shifts his gaze from outside and casts an irritated glance at Saeed Tulu.
The details of Sayeed Tulu's family situation are at his fingertips. As long as Saeed's businessman father was alive, their family was comfortable. But with the sudden death of the father, their large family fell into another major crisis. Within a couple months of Saeed's father's death, his only uncle took over the entire business and left them almost destitute. He claimed that Saeed's father owed a lot of debt in the market. As half the business partner, the uncle argued that he had repaid everything, so now the entire business belonged to him. He had no objection to providing proof if needed. As the new owner of the company, the uncle did not hesitate to offer Saeed a job. Even though Saeed and his family acknowledged their loss and harm in the face of this sudden change in relations, they realized the need to maintain safe distance. Heeding his mother's objection, Saeed did not get embroiled in any dispute with his uncle. Though even if he tried, he would not have succeeded anyway. His capability was quite limited. Saeed had a certain submissiveness in his nature. Unlike his uncle's crafty and aggressive temperament, he was the complete opposite – still and non-protesting like a tree. Echoing his mother's words, he was satisfied thinking – having a place to rest one's head is enough. If only he wished, he alone could have shown Saeed a way out of this danger. But he did not do that. Rather, the ingenious plot of Saeed's uncle had delighted him.
It was he, the same person who arranged a grand celebration for Saeed Tulu’s birthday last month. Saeed Tulu had just turned 25 and stepped into his 26th year. Considering the circumstances, it had been quite extravagant. After his father’s death, someone forced to shoulder the responsibility of a crumbling household might not typically celebrate their birthday. Especially not with a lavish feast at an upscale restaurant—that seemed like an unwise indulgence. Yet, he had been the one to encourage it. In truth, he felt a kind of compassion for the young man at that time. He knew all too well the struggles and hardships Saeed faced day after day. Sometimes, it became unbearable even for him. And yet, the boy had learned to find contentment in the little things for the sake of his mother and siblings. Once a food lover, Saeed now satisfied himself with simple meals of rice and curry from roadside eateries.
He remembered a particular day that even moved someone as indifferent as him to tears. On that day, a local eatery had served a variety of dishes, including Padma river’s famous hilsa curry. A single large piece of hilsa cost 95 taka, and with lentils and rice, the meal exceeded Saeed’s budget.Although mustard hilsa was his favourite, he had restrained himself from spending extra and walked away. The incident had left a deep impression on him, and he resolved then to take Saeed out for a special meal at an upscale restaurant someday.
When Saeed’s birthday arrived, it seemed the perfect occasion to fulfil that promise. Arrangements were made for the boy to have a special meal. However, he wasn't entirely willing—recently, he had started feeling guilty about indulging in good food alone. It took a bit of persuasion and strategy to get him to the restaurant. There was a time when the family frequented such establishments together, but those days were long gone. Nowadays, even a five-taka additional expense requires careful thought.
Saeed Tulu had never imagined that life would catch him off guard like this, leaving him bewildered in the middle of the road. With his father around, he had planned his future meticulously; finish his studies and pursue film-making—a passion he had turned into a serious life goal. But his father’s sudden death shattered all his carefully laid plans. Though by nature, Saeed was someone who adapted and accepted, he now consoles himself with the thought that being ruthlessly selfish in pursuit of his dreams was never his forte. There were many things he couldn’t bring himself to do.
He secretly loved Arshi, the girl next door, but never had the courage to confess his feelings. Over the years, he had watched her transform from a cocoon into a butterfly. Due to his talent in drawing, Saeed was always tasked with creating practical notebooks and other assignments for Arshi's school and college. As they grew up, Arshi would frequently come to him for such tasks. Every time she stood before him, Saeed's heart whispered that this girl was born for him.
Now a medical student, Arshi feels like a distant lighthouse to him. Saeed's current reality is so directionless that he sees no way to follow that beam of light to his desired destination. Like his other dreams, Arshi has drifted farther and farther away. He knows he must prepare himself to accept the bitter truth: a girl like Arshi isn't meant for him. The carefree days of joy and blossoming flowers had disappeared from his life. His present and future are shifting from sunny skies to the shadows of dense clouds.
For Saeed Tulu, who had somehow managed to graduate with a BSc degree, the ordeal of finding a job was no less agonizing. The painful memories of loved ones abandoning him in times of crisis mirrored the struggles he faced himself. Eventually, with the help of a well-connected older brother, he secured a position as a medical representative at a private company. Eleven months have passed in that job with a salary of ten thousand. He's been told that if he works well, the salary can go up to twenty five thousand—though when that might happen remains uncertain.
Huge expenses loom ahead. His sister’s wedding is just a few months away. The groom, her classmate, is someone she likes, and the match faces no objections. In fact, their mother is relieved, as it spares her the burden of finding a match for her fatherless daughter. The couple plans to leave for higher studies abroad a few weeks after the wedding, relying on scholarship money to cover their expenses. The groom’s family has kept their demands minimal, requesting only a simple wedding and modest travel arrangements for the couple. To meet these conditions, the mother has decided to rely on her limited jewellery, a move Saeed strongly opposes. However, the crucial question still lingers; where could they possibly obtain the funds?
To Saeed Tulu’s surprise, an unexpected opportunity to manage his financial burdens suddenly came his way. The arrangement, devised according to his company’s old representative Niloy Boxi’s plan, was presented to Saeed. Niloy was a close associate of Manager Chandra Sheel. Niloy’s pregnant wife was in the hospital, facing complications that had put the childbirth at risk, making it impossible for him to leave Dhaka.
The company was satisfied with Saeed Tulu’s work, which is why they chose him for the task. The workload was light, the profits substantial, and the work itself not overly complicated. It was similar to his current job of delivering the company’s medicines to pharmacies, medical shops, and doctors’ chambers in Dhaka. The only difference was that instead of those regular deliveries, he now had to transport shipments to wholesale buyers of medicines.
If he successfully managed one shipment, there would be opportunities for more work in the future. Without hesitation, Saeed Tulu agreed to take on the task.
It didn't take long to see the profitable side of delivering medicine receipts outside Dhaka. If he can do this, the wedding expenses will be covered. Saeed Tulur's worries ease a bit. For each trip he has to carry two extra packets. Those two packets contain foreign medicines. Rare and very expensive. He doesn't know the exact names of those medicines. He's been told to deliver the packets to a specific person. Those two packets remain inside his delivery van. He got paid 1500 taka per trip. He has to make at least ten such 1500 taka trips every month. Lucky for him, within a month and a half, his pleasing fortune lands him an assistant's job in the receipt work. The extra income of fifteen thousand is now a huge blessing for him.
But that day, something different happened. Shortly after the vehicle left Dhaka and descended the flyover past Jatrabari, a police vehicle signalled to stop. As soon as the vehicle stopped, it was surrounded by police forces. Searching the vehicle, along with actual medicines, huge amounts of Yaba, expired and fake medicines were found. While searching, finding those two special packets created severe complications. Saeed was arrested and taken away. The vehicle was seized along with the drugs. The next day, newspapers reported Saeed Tulur's arrest with fake medicines and 20 million worth of Yaba under the guise of medicine supply. Those who paid him money all this while to do the job vanished. One day, a police team took him outside Dhaka near a wetland in Narayanganj to reveal their names and then kill him there. This place is quite far from the locality. After providing the names, he would be murdered here. Saeed was certain of this. The names he knew may not be real names. Still as a last bid to save his life, he decided to reveal two names. He has willingly fallen into the trap of a vicious circle, and he must find a way to break free. His life and death hang by a thread of someone's whim. He will try to survive and is not ready to give up so easily. Desperate to escape the approaching jaws of death, Saeed Tulu spoke up-
“I want to live. Please don’t kill me.”
Yes, only he had the power to save him. He alone could turn this entire situation around. After all, he was responsible for Saeed Tulu’s current state. Saeed was his creation—his survival or demise was entirely in his hands. And Saeed Tulu was not ready to die needlessly. For the first time in his life, he had spoken up. As the creator, it was irrational for him to kill off his own character.
Surprisingly, Saeed Tulu’s plea stirred something within him. He was caught in a conflict of emotions, beginning to question whether pushing the boy toward death like this was the right thing to do.
Such an incident was rare in his writing career. He had always been the sole master of his creations. For the first time, a character in his story was forcing him to think twice. He realized he would need to revisit the story from the beginning. With that decision, he rose from his writing desk.
A gust of wind blew in through the open window, scattering the loose pages of his notebook. He cast a fleeting, lazy glance at the dishevelled pages before heading toward the dining table. He was suddenly ravenously hungry.
DoubleSpeak 
I read the Bengali version before. I read the English version today too. I liked the story.
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The embedded narrative is truly impressive. The structure itself is compelling. Really clever and engaging technique of story telling.
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