The three-storied government building standing in the middle of town was nearly fifty years old.
Though the outer walls had been freshly painted, the old-days smell still lingered in the inner corridors.
As soon as it struck nine in the morning, the staff began bustling in.
Someone rushed by with files in hand,
someone switched on a computer,
someone gossiped over a cup of tea.
The last room on the third floor was the most important room in the office.
On the door, in large letters, was written—
Amoresh Saha
Chief Officer
In the middle of the room stood an enormous desk.
And behind the desk—
a strange, old chair.
Made of dark wood.
Thick armrests on both sides.
Delicate carvings across its back.
The chair was so old that none of the office's new staff knew how long it had been there.
But the senior clerk Tapan Ray knew.
One day he had told Pradipta Das,
— "That chair, you know, is older than this office itself."
Pradipta had asked, astonished,
— "Then why is such an old chair still in use?"
Tapan fell quiet for a moment, then said,
— "Because this chair has never chosen anyone. Whoever takes the post, sits in it."
Pradipta laughed.
— "Does a chair choose people now?"
Tapan didn't answer.
He only looked once at the chair.
Ten in the morning.
Amoresh Saha walked into his room.
With him was Ranju Singha.
Ranju wasn't an office employee, but he knew nearly every door in the building.
Amoresh sat in the chair and said,
— "Bring today's important files first."
Ranju nodded.
— "Everything will be arranged, sir."
Amoresh leaned back in the chair.
Then slowly said,
— "One must understand the worth of work that has worth."
Ranju smiled faintly.
Their eyes met.
Pradipta watched it all from a distance.
But said nothing.
At noon, Amrit Singh came to the office.
Plain clothes. An old file in hand.
After waiting a long while, he was finally allowed into Amoresh's room.
— "Sir, my land-document work…"
Amoresh opened the file, flipped a few pages, and said,
— "It will be done."
Relief crossed Amrit's face.
— "When will it be done, sir?"
Amoresh looked at him over his glasses.
— "Some things need to be understood."
Amrit didn't understand.
He was about to say more.
Just then Ranju entered and said,
— "Come outside. I'll explain."
Amrit went out.
The door shut.
Silence fell in the room again.
Amoresh leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
Suddenly—
Crack!
He opened his eyes.
The chair's right armrest had shifted slightly.
Amoresh felt it with his hand.
Nothing there.
— "Old chair."
He opened the file again.
In the afternoon, Sulata Ray came to the office.
She had applied earlier regarding one of her government documents.
Pradipta looked at her file and said,
— "Your papers are in order. Please wait a little."
Sulata said,
— "I've been coming for so long."
Pradipta said gently,
— "I understand."
Then he took the file to Amoresh's room.
Amoresh looked at the file and said,
— "Tell her to come tomorrow."
Pradipta said,
— "Sir, she's been coming for a long time."
Amoresh looked up.
— "Do what I've told you."
Pradipta fell silent.
He left the file on the desk and walked out.
Eight at night.
The office nearly empty.
Tapan Ray had come to collect a box of old documents one last time before retiring.
Walking through the corridor, he stopped in front of Amoresh's room.
Door closed.
Light on inside.
Tapan looked at the chair and suddenly froze.
In a very low voice, he said,
— "Still here?"
No one answered.
Tapan walked away.
Half past ten at night.
Amoresh alone.
He closed the last file of the day.
Rose from the chair.
Right then—
Creeeak...
The chair slid back a few inches.
Amoresh stopped.
He turned around.
The chair, still.
He stepped forward again.
Touched the chair with his hand.
Nothing unusual.
Suddenly his eyes fell on the armrest.
There, faintly carved into the wood, something written.
He wiped away the dust and tried to read it.
Just three words—
I remember everything.
Amoresh stood still for a moment.
Then told himself—
"Someone must have written it."
He switched off the light and left the room.
The door closed.
The whole office in darkness.
A few seconds later—
Crack...
The chair's right armrest moved again, slightly.
Then—
a very faint sound.
As if someone whispered—
Not yet...
In the dark room, the chair stood alone.
But upon it seemed to sit the shadow of someone unseen.