Now I must take my wife in this very craft and leave her at her parental home in Benaras, a place she has been repeatedly insisting on visiting.
The Manoyan is, in fact, a time machine. By setting the latitude, longitude, and date on its various meters and pressing a switch, one can reach that place in the past or the future in the blink of an eye. I have already seen the pyramids of Egypt and the techniques of mummy-making. Watching the mummy of Pharaoh Akhenaten being prepared right before my eyes was thrilling beyond words. I also traveled back to the age of dinosaurs and watched those gigantic monsters roam about. Once, I even visited the royal court of Emperor Ashoka.
In truth, the idea of building the Manoyan came from my wife’s constant demands. That time, returning from Benaras by train, she had suffered greatly. When the water tank of the compartment ran dry, she could not maintain her habit of bathing three times a day. As a result, she did not eat a thing all day. On returning home, she scolded me sharply, “What kind of scientist are you, I don’t understand at all! I go to my parents’ house once every six or nine months. Can’t you build a vehicle so I can travel there and back without any hassle?”
I had indeed planned to build a vehicle but one that would not run on the ground. It would fly directly through the sky. Its speed would exceed even the speed of human thought. I named this invention the Manoyan.
However, I will not record in this diary the method of building the Manoyan, nor the exact ingredients I used to create its metal. Even if I did, many—especially the European scientific community would not believe it. Would anyone accept that I created an incredibly light yet immensely strong alloy by mixing monkey-ladder roots, spider webs, monkey nails, and liquid tritinium? I named this alloy Jharonium, after my own surname, Jhartachchhilya.
23 December:
Tonight, in an instant, I delivered my wife to her parental home. It was her first ride in the Manoyan, and she was so astonished that she did not utter a single word throughout the journey. She kept looking at me again and again with wide, incredulous eyes. After returning home, I began searching for a way to operate the Manoyan without sitting in the pilot’s seat, in other words, to make it remotely controlled. From the ground, at the press of a button, I would be able to send it anywhere within the country, abroad, into the past, or into the future.
18 February:
By this afternoon, the task was complete. In my hand is a small device of my own creation. It has various switches and a map of the Earth. By studying the map, measuring the latitude and longitude, and fixing the time, I can press a button and send the pilotless Manoyan to the chosen destination. Today, using this very method, I sent the Manoyan to Paris of the past. It returned with secret photographs of the construction of the Eiffel Tower. That settles it. Now I must apply for a patent and send an article to the famous journal Nature in London. The moment the article is published, this invention will create a worldwide sensation.
3 March:
The year is now 1942. Mahatma Gandhi has called for the Non-Cooperation Movement. Its waves have reached Deoghar as well. I rarely step out of the house; all outside work is handled by my servant, Haripada. Today, when he returned from the market, panting and pale, what he told me left me stunned.
In front of a liquor shop, satyagrahis were picketing. The police arrived. Leading them was a notorious white officer named Alfred. It is said that Alfred suddenly opened fire on the satyagrahis, killing three of them. An extremely elderly satyagrahi named Banowarilal was shot and collapsed on the ground, bleeding profusely. In that condition, Alfred repeatedly kicked the eighty-two-year-old man in the chest. Even long after the old man had died, he continued kicking the corpse in the same brutal manner.
Witnessing this, a young man passing by lost his composure. He rushed straight at Alfred, and a fierce struggle broke out between them. When the officer tried to pull out his pistol and fire again, the young man snatched the weapon and shot Alfred at point-blank range. Alfred died on the spot. The young man fled.
Soon after, another extremely cruel officer named Charles arrived with a huge police force and began a reign of terror, going from house to house in search of the youth. Haripada told me that he knows the young man very well. He is Dinabandhu, the son of our neighbor Hardayal Pandit. He studies in Kolkata and has an excellent reputation as a student. His bright future has been utterly destroyed. The police will never spare him. Haripada spoke with deep sorrow.
5 March:
Late at night, a soft knocking sound at the laboratory window startled me. When I opened it, I saw Hardayal Pandit standing there, his face ashen. Behind him was his son, Dinabandhu. I hurriedly let them both inside. Hardayal said, “Doctor sahib, you have heard everything, haven’t you? My son has done a terrible thing. The police are hunting him like mad. If they catch him, they will shoot him dead like a dog. Please save him in whatever way you can. He is my only son. If he dies, who will light my funeral pyre?” Saying this, Hardayal burst into loud sobs.
Through his tears he went on, “You have dealings with the sahibs. Please speak to them and arrange to hide Dinu somewhere. The police will never search for him in a sahib’s house. I have no one but my son. What will become of me without him?”
I could not agree. It is true that I am acquainted with several high-ranking British officers, but in the present situation no one would dare give Dinabandhu shelter. Worse still, if it became known that I was hiding him, I too would be in grave danger. I began to think. I knew that during his student days, Dinu had assisted the revered scientist Jagadish Chandra Bose in the invention of the crescograph and the seismograph. The young man was extraordinarily talented and was certain to emerge as a renowned scientist in the near future. I was therefore determined to help him, but how?
Suddenly an idea struck me: why not send father and son to some distant foreign land aboard the Manoyan? Before that, however, I had to explain the workings of the craft to them. On hearing the proposal, Hardayal and his son felt as if they had found the moon in their hands. Hardayal said, “If you are sending us, then send us straight to Surrey in England. My sister is married there. My brother-in-law runs a business. We will be safe there. He will take care of everything. Dinu can change his name and enroll in Oxford or Cambridge.”
Within an hour, father and son were ready. I seated them in the Manoyan, set the latitude and longitude, and delivered them to Surrey, seven days in the past. Through the Manoyan’s camera, I saw that they had landed safely. The British police would never be able to trace them.
23 April:
Things did not go as I had hoped. The police followed Dinabandhu’s scent straight to me. Most likely, Hardayal’s brother, Brijdoyal, unable to endure police torture, had revealed everything about their journey and my involvement in it. One morning, Charles arrived at my house with his men.
Charles had come fully informed. Still, with as much politeness as possible, he said, “Sir, the information is confirmed. You are behind the disappearance of Dinabandhu and his father. Confess your crime and tell us where they are hiding. Otherwise, even a renowned scientist like you will be taken to the police station with a rope around your waist. Helping the murderer of a government officer is nothing less than rebellion against the British Crown. The punishment for this crime is extremely severe.”
I realized there was no point in denial. Charles had confronted me knowingly. However, he still did not know where father and son had gone.
I decided to put on an act. In a trembling, frightened voice I said, “I knew nothing of this incident in detail. I hardly step out of the house. I now understand that they lied to me. They said that a relative in Russia was in grave danger and that they had to reach St. Petersburg overnight. I own an aircraft that travels at tremendous speed. I sent them there in that plane. I now realize that what I did was wrong, Officer. I am ready to cooperate fully. I only request that you do not send me to jail. If that happens, I will not be able to show my face in society.”
Charles jumped up the moment he heard this. He said, “We will use your supersonic aircraft as well. You must take me to St. Petersburg immediately. We must capture Dinabandhu as quickly as possible. Too much time has already been lost. Brijdoyal had gone into hiding; we have only just traced him. If I can catch the murderer, I will receive a major promotion.”
I said cautiously, “Will you go alone to capture such a dangerous criminal? Would it not be better to take a few men along? The Manoyan can seat four people at a time.”
Charles replied, “No, no. Going alone is out of the question. Dinu is dangerous. I will take my two assistants, Halford and O’Hara. On the return journey, Dinabandhu will also be with us. You said four people can travel together. Where will you sit to operate the craft?”
I answered, “That will not be a problem. This craft of mine is remotely controlled. It will carry you there on its own and bring you back as well. I will control it from here. You will only need to press a button before returning. That will signal me to bring it back.”
Charles did not think twice. Police intelligence is usually quite limited. He had entered my house with his two assistants, and with them he went into the garden and boarded the Manoyan. Before leaving, he said, “From now on, whenever necessary, we will use the Manoplane. I will also inform the government that it was because of you that a murderer like Dinu was caught. The Viceroy himself will reward you.”
30 November:
Fearing that my deed might be exposed at any moment, I went into hiding with the Manoyan and took refuge directly at the home of my Parisian friend, Dominique. That is why I could not write in the diary. Upon returning, Haripada told me that no one had come looking for me all this time. Reassured, I am now recording the truth.
I had set the latitude and longitude and sent the three men to Russia. The moment they stepped out of the Manoyan, by a manipulation of the mechanism, it returned instantly to my garden in Deoghar. Needless to say, the three police officers never returned. Later, I heard that all three had mysteriously disappeared together. To this day, the police have found no clue to this mystery.
And why would they? I had indeed sent them to Petersburg, but not to April 1942 Petersburg. I sent them to late March of 1917, in Petersburg. Tsar Nicholas II had just been dethroned, and the entire country was engulfed in the atmosphere of civil war. I assumed that the Russians would not easily spare three men roaming about in foreign police uniforms. Suspected as spies, they were probably exiled to Siberia long ago.
Any pangs of conscience? None at all. On the contrary, my heart was filled with satisfaction at having saved a future brilliant scientist like Dinu from punishment.
