THE CEILING FAN in Ward Office C dragged through the thick, static air of the afternoon, clicking rhythmically with every third rotation. Below it, the queue of applicants remained motionless, a single organism sweating in the humidity, held together by the gravity of the counter and the plexiglass barrier that separated them from Subhash.
Subhash did not look up. He focused on the grime accumulated in the corners of his keyboard, the ‘Enter’ key worn smooth and shiny like a river stone. It was 4:15 pm. The line had to be cleared by 5:00.
“Next,” Subhash said. His voice was flat, a piece of office furniture.
A sheet of paper slid under the glass partition. It was damp at the edges where thumbprints had pressed into the cheap pulp. Subhash looked at the document before he looked at the human. It was a Form 12-B, a ‘Notice of Unauthorized Construction and Intent to Demolish,’ issued by the encroachment department three days ago.
The man attached to the hand was small, wearing a bush shirt that had been washed until its pattern was a memory. He had the distinct, vibrating stillness of a man who has been holding his breath for a very long time.
“It came on Monday,” the man said. His Hindi was accented with the lilt of the coast. “The neighbours said it is an eviction order. But my son … he reads a little English. He said it is just a warning. An intimation.”
Subhash adjusted his glasses and pulled the paper closer.
…
Abul Kalam Sharafat is an undergraduate student of English and Arabic, with a strong interest in literature, philosophy, and intellectual history. His writing explores themes of identity, belief, and human experience, engaging with both classical and contemporary perspectives. He has presented academic papers at institutions such as Harvard University, Aligarh Muslim University, and Jamia Millia Islamia. Instagram: @a.k.sharafath