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53 pages

English

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A stolen ring. A private menagerie. A mysterious spy . . . The first novel to feature master sleuth Feluda and his teenage assistant Topshe, The Emperor s Ring is full of adventure, mystery and intrigue. Feluda and Topshe are on holiday in Lucknow when a priceless Mughal ring is stolen. Feluda begins to investigate the case and finds himself hot on the trail of a devious criminal. Feluda s twelve greatest adventures are now available in special Puffin editions.

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Publié par	Penguin Books Ltd
Date de parution	23 décembre 2015
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9789351180241
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

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Satyajit Ray

T HE A DVENTURES OF F ELUDA THE EMPEROR S RING
Translated from the Bengali by Gopa Majumdar

PUFFIN BOOKS
Contents
About the Author
Read the other Adventures of Feluda in Puffin
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Follow Penguin
Copyright
PUFFIN BOOKS
THE ADVENTURES OF FELUDA THE EMPEROR S RING
Satyajit Ray (1921-1992) was one of the greatest filmmakers of his time, renowned for films like Pather Panchali , Charulata , Aranyer Din Ratri and Ghare Baire. He was awarded the Oscar for Lifetime Achievement by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science in 1992, and in the same year, was also honoured with the Bharat Ratna.
Ray was also a writer of repute, and his short stories, novellas, poems and articles, written in Bengali, have been immensely popular ever since they first began to appear in the children s magazine Sandesh in 1961. Among his most famous creations are the master sleuth Feluda and the scientist Professor Shonku.

Gopa Majumdar has translated several works from Bengali to English, the most notable of these being Ashapurna Debi s Subarnalata , Taslima Nasrin s My Girlhood , and Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay s Aparajito , for which she won the Sahitya Akademi Award in 2002. She has translated several volumes of Satyajit Ray s short stories and all of the Feluda stories for Penguin Books India. She is currently translating Ray s Professor Shonku stories, which are forthcoming in Puffin.
Read the other Adventures of Feluda in Puffin
Trouble in Gangtok The Golden Fortress The Incident on the Kalka Mail A Killer in Kailash The Royal Bengal Mystery The Mystery of the Elephant God The Bandits of Bombay The House of Death Trouble in the Graveyard The Criminals of Kathmandu The Curse of the Goddess
Chapter 1
I was at first quite disappointed when I heard Baba say, Let s have a holiday in Lucknow this year. Dhiru has been asking us for a long time to go and visit him. It was my belief that Lucknow was dull and boring. Baba did say we d include a trip to Haridwar and Laxmanjhoola, and the latter was in the hills-but that would be just for a few days. We generally went to either Darjeeling or Puri. I liked both the sea and the mountains. Lucknow had neither. So I said to Baba, Couldn t we ask Feluda to come with us?
Feluda has a theory about himself. No matter where he goes, he says, mysterious things start happening around him. And true enough, the last time he went with us to Darjeeling, all those strange things happened to Rajen Babu. If Lucknow could offer something similar, it wouldn t matter too much if the place itself was boring.
Baba said, Felu would be most welcome, but can he get away?
Feluda appeared quite enthusiastic when I told him. Went there in 1958 to play a cricket match, he said. It s not a bad place at all. If you went inside the Bhoolbhulaia in the Burra Imambara, I m sure your eyes would pop out. What an imagination those nawabs had-my God!
You ll get leave, won t you?
Feluda ignored my question and continued to speak: And it s not just the Bhoolbhulaia. You ll get to see the Monkey Bridge over the Gomti, and of course the battered Residency.
What s the Residency?
It was the centre of the British forces during the Mutiny. They couldn t do a thing. The sepoys tore it apart.
Feluda had been at his job for two years. Since he hadn t taken any leave in the first year, it wasn t difficult for him now to get a couple of weeks off.
Perhaps I should explain here that Feluda is my cousin. I am fourteen and he is twenty-seven. Some people think him crazy, some say he is only eccentric, others call him just plain lazy. But I happen to know that few men of his age possess his intelligence. And, if he finds a job that interests him, he can work harder than anyone I know. Besides, he is good at cricket, knows at least a hundred indoor games, a number of card tricks, a little hypnotism and can write with both hands. When he was in school, his memory was so good that he had memorized every word in Tagore s Snatched from the Gods after just two readings.
But what is most remarkable about Feluda is his power of deduction. This is a skill he has acquired simply by reading and regular practice. The police haven t yet discovered his talents, so Feluda has remained an amateur private detective.
One look at a person is enough for him to guess-accurately-a number of things about him.
When we met Dhiru Kaka at the Lucknow railway station, Feluda whispered into my ear: Is your Kaka fond of gardening?
I knew that Dhiru Kaka had a garden, but Feluda could not have known about it. After all, Dhiru Kaka was not a relative; Baba and he were childhood friends.
How did you guess? I asked, amazed.
When he turns around, said Feluda, still whispering, you ll see a rose leaf sticking out from under the heel of his right shoe. And the index finger of his right hand has got tincture of iodine on it. Possibly the result of messing about in a rose bush early this morning.
I realized on the way to Dhiru Kaka s house from the station that Lucknow was really a beautiful place. There were buildings with turrets and minarets all around; the roads were broad and clean and the traffic, besides motor cars, included two different kinds of horse-drawn carriages. One, I learnt, was called a tonga and the other was an ekka. If Dhiru Kaka hadn t met us in his old Chevrolet, we might have had to get into one of those.
Dhiru Kaka said, Aren t you now glad you came to this nice place? It s not filthy like Calcutta, is it?
Baba and Dhiru Kaka were sitting at the back. Feluda and I were both sitting beside the driver, Din Dayal Singh. Feluda whispered again, Ask him about the Bhoolbhulaia?
I find it difficult not to do something if Feluda asks me to do it. So I said, What is the Bhoolbhulaia, Dhiru Kaka?
You ll see it for yourself! Dhiru Kaka laughed, It s actually a maze inside the Imambara. The nawabs used to play hide-and-seek in it with their queens.
This time Feluda himself spoke. Is it true that you cannot come out of it unless you take a trained guide with you?
Yes, so I believe. Once a British soldier-oh, it was many years ago-had a few glasses and laid a wager with someone. Said no one should follow him into the maze, he d come out himself. Two days later, his body was found in a lane of the maze.
My heart started beating faster. Did you go in alone or with a guide? I asked Feluda.
I took a guide. But it is possible to go alone.
Really?
I stared. Well, nothing was too difficult for Feluda, I knew.
How is it possible?
Feluda s eyes drooped. He nodded twice, but remained silent. I could tell he would not speak. His eyes were now taking in every detail of the city of Lucknow.
Dhiru Kaka was a lawyer. He had come to Lucknow twenty years ago and stayed on. He was, I believe, fairly well known in legal circles. He had lost his wife three years ago, and his son was in Frankfurt. He lived alone, with his bearer, Jagmohan, a cook and a maali. His house in Secunder Bagh was a little more than three miles from the station. The main gate bore his name: D. K. SANYAL, MA, BLB, Advocate.
A cobbled driveway led to a bungalow. His garden lay on both sides of the driveway. I spotted a maali working with a lawnmower as we stopped at the front door.
Baba said after lunch, You must be tired after your journey. I suggest we start our sightseeing from tomorrow. So I spent the whole afternoon learning card tricks from Feluda. Indians have fingers that are far more flexible than those of Europeans, Feluda told me, so it s easier for us to learn tricks that require sleight of hand.
In the evening, we went out to the garden to have our tea. As we sat under a eucalyptus tree, cups and saucers in our hands, a car drew up outside the main gate. Feluda said, Fiat, without even looking. This was followed by footsteps on the driveway, and a gentleman in a grey suit appeared shortly. He was fair, wore glasses and most of his hair was grey. Yet, it was clear that he was not very much older than Baba.
Dhiru Kaka rose with a smile, his hands folded in a namaskaar. Jagmohan, bring another chair, he said. Turning towards Baba, he added, Allow me to introduce a special friend. This is Dr Srivastava.
Feluda and I had both risen by this time. Feluda muttered under his breath, The chap s nervous for some reason. He forgot to greet your father.
Dhiru Kaka continued, Srivastava is an osteopath and a genuine Lucknowwalla.
I heard Feluda whisper again. Do you know what an osteopath is?
No.
A doctor who specializes in problems of your bones.
An extra chair arrived and we all sat down. Dr Srivastava picked up Baba s teacup absentmindedly and was about to take a sip when Baba coughed politely. Dr Srivastava started, said, I am so sorry, and put it down.
Dhiru Kaka said thoughtfully, You seem a little preoccupied today. Are you thinking of a difficult case?
Baba intervened at this point.
You are talking to him in Bengali, Dhiru. Does he understand it?
Dhiru Kaka laughed, Understand it? Good God-why don t you quote a few lines from Tagore, eh, Srivastava?
Dr Srivastava appeared a little uncomfortable. I know a little Bengali, he confessed, and I have read some of Tagore s works.
Really?
Yes. Great poet.
Perhaps they would now start a great discussion on poetry, I thought. But Dr Srivastava picked up his own cup this time with an unsteady hand and said, Last night a daku came to my house.
Daku? What was that?
The next words Dhiru Kaka spoke explained it. You mean a dacoit? Heavens, I thought they existed only in Madhya Pradesh. How did one get into Lucknow?
Call it a dacoit or an ordinary thief. You know about my ring, don t you, Mr Sanyal?
The one Pyarelal had given you? Has it been stolen?
No, no. But I do believe the thief came to steal it.
Baba said, What s this ab