The Fantabulous Fens

  Central Avenue Publishing Edition

  Copyright © 2014 Gautam Sen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This edition is published by arrangement with Gautam Sen.

  centralavenuepublishing.com

  Second electronic edition

  Created and distributed by Everheart Books, a division of Central Avenue Marketing Ltd.

  THE FANTABULOUS FENS

  ISBN 978-1-926760-25-4 ebk

  Published in Canada with international distribution.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Michelle Halket

  Cover Illustration: Alicja Ignaczak

  The Fantabulous Fens

  1 - Fens’ Den

  The Fens were the most unusual family in the world.

  There was Father Fen, who — when he was not writing, for he was a writer — spent a good deal of his time sitting very upright and cross-legged on a folded blanket on his bed. He would close his eyes and remain that way for a long time. The more he remained that way, the more still his body seemed to become, but he did not fall asleep.

  You cannot fall asleep with your body held so upright and your head erect. If you did fall asleep, your body would sag and your head would fall towards your chest, but no such thing happened to Father Fen; and when he opened his eyes at last, he seemed very peaceful and happy.

  Everyone in the family knew that what Father Fen did at such times was to ‘meditate’, but no one really understood what ‘meditation’ meant. When Father Fen was asked whether it meant ‘to think deeply’, he said, “No, it’s not that. It’s difficult to explain what exactly it is - how can I tell you? But it makes me feel nice and peaceful; it makes me feel healthy; and it makes me a better man.”

  That gave them some idea as to what meditation might be about, and they were happy that Father Fen meditated. They tried their best not to disturb him while he was at it. They tried their best not to make too much noise.

  Mother Fen was the only member of the family who was not unusual. Or perhaps it would be more right to say that the only thing unusual about her was that, though she lived with her unusual husband and her five unusual children, she herself did not become unusual in any way. (We tend to become at least a little like the persons we live and mix with, don’t we?)

  Mother Fen was a cheerful woman. Looking at her you might have thought that she led an easy and comfortable life, but actually she had a lot of work to do. She cooked, she washed, she cleaned up the house, and she looked after the children… and it was only at the end of it all that she found the time to sit before the TV set and watch her favourite serials.

  When we come to the Fen children, it is difficult to decide whom to begin with because, though they were of various sizes, they were really quintuplets — that is to say, they were all born together at the same time. In such cases, people try to be fair by following an alphabetical order, but the question is, are you necessarily being fair just because you are following the alphabetical order? Say a child’s name begins with z. Won’t it be mentioned last each and every time all the children are spoken of, and won’t this be hurtful to the child whose name begins with z?

  So, instead of following the alphabetical order, I will do it the other way around: I will talk first of the Fen child whose name is alphabetically last, and work my way up from the bottom.

  But first I must tell you that, though quintuplets are very rare indeed, they normally resemble one another to some extent at least. Not so the Fen quintuplets. They were the exceptions that prove the rule. That is to say, they were not the usual quintuplets. They were born after Mr. and Mrs. Fen received the blessings of a saint, who told them, “May you have the most delightful children in the world!”

  You must be wondering what Mr. and Mrs. Fen did to receive such a blessing. Well, at the risk of their own lives, they saved five little children from being carried away by a flood. When, therefore, five children were born to them not long after, and all together, each of whom was unusual in his own way, they knew it had happened because of the blessings of the saint.

  Pinchu was two-and-a-half inches tall. That was the height he was born with, and that was the height he remained. Compared to his body, he had a big, oval head that contained a big brain, and because he was such a small fellow, he had to carry his head very carefully indeed. If he tilted his head too much to one side, or too much backward or forward, his body lost its balance, and he fell in the direction in which his head was pointed. That is why, if he had to pick up something from the floor, he did not bend forward to pick it; rather, he got down on his haunches, moved his eyes gently (moving his head as little as possible) to spot the object, and then picked it up in a somewhat gingerly fashion.

  You may think this is very, very uncomfortable, but once you do something again and again you get so used to doing it that it stops being much of a problem, and that is exactly the way it was with Pinchu — he grew comfortable with his uncomfortableness!

  Pinchu had a single hair which was positioned just at the junction between the top and the back of his head, and was often curled like a question-mark; and indeed Pinchu had an inquisitive mind that always asked questions. He had a little laboratory made of wood and packing-case materials in one corner of a room, and it is here that he spent most of his time watching things under a tiny microscope and conducting experiments in test-tubes. Sometimes, during a meal, he would break off a little portion of this or that food and keep it at the side of his plate. When he had finished eating and washed his hands, he would put the tiny piece of food in a piece of paper and carry it enthusiastically to his laboratory.

  Though Pinchu was a gentle child, absorbed mostly in his world of discovery, he had his moods like anybody else. Those who knew him well — and that means everybody in the Fen family — could read his mood at a particular moment just by looking at the state of his single hair: if it was in the shape of a question-mark, like it usually was, then he was in a fact-finding mood; if it stood up like the aerial of a radio, he was in a state of great excitement; and if it lay limp on the back of his head, he was feeling low. So the question of Pinchu being able to hide his mood never arose, like it sometimes arises in our own lives. Of course, he could try to hide his mood by wearing a hat or a cap, but this he never did; and even if he did do so, everyone in the Fen family would automatically suspect that he was trying to hide his real feelings, and then they would want him to take off his hat or cap!

  Panchu was the same size as Pinchu and, like him, had not grown physically ever since his birth. That is not to say that he did not grow otherwise — he grew in knowledge, in intelligence, in his ability to talk (of which he did a lot) and, most of all, in his naughtiness. You just had to look at his bright, shining, mischievous eyes to know that he was the naughtiest of the Fen children, and with every passing day he became a little naughtier.

  Apart from his size, he was not like Pinchu at all. He had a round face and cheeks like apples, and the plentiful curls of black hair on his head were of such a light texture that the slightest whiff of air would ruffle it and undo whatever combing had been done. Then, with his hair scattered pell-mell all over his head, he looked at his naughtiest best.

  As you will find out, Panchu’s main job in life was to act big. He did it with a lot of flair. Maybe he did it because, being very clever in a naughty
kind of way, he realized it was not the easiest thing to be such a wee little fellow in a big, big world; he tried to make up for it by behaving as big as he could, and because everyone in the family loved him very much indeed, they pampered him and let him have his way.

  Next we have Koala, who was called by that name because he looked like a koala though he was actually a human being, the first of his kind, (just like all his brothers, in their own unique way, were the first of their kind.) He smiled and he smiled, he was innocence itself, and what he liked most of all was to climb the rope that hung down from the ceiling of their play-room (it had been put there mainly for him) and the one mango and the two jack-fruit trees in their back-yard, or take a turn at the swing put up there.

  Mumbo was a human child who looked like a baby elephant. However, he walked on his two feet (naturally, being a human being!). As you can expect, he was very strong, but he was not proud or vain about his strength. He was gentle, humble, and sweet-natured, and he had a tremendous laugh. All his brothers looked up to him for support when, for any reason, they were afraid, for they knew perfectly well that Mumbo was not only the strongest boy on earth, but also the bravest.

  The last, but not the least, of the beautiful brothers was Baby Panda, who was so called (though he was a human being) only because he resembled the members of the Giant Panda species. Not surprisingly, he was a very cuddly child, and when he walked it was like a big white (with occasional black) ball rolling slowly down the floor. Baby Panda’s life centered on three things: eating, sleeping, and playing around with a big plastic ball that looked like his younger brother but was actually just a big plastic ball. Of course, Baby Panda dutifully did whatever studies he was supposed to do, and often more or less enjoyed it also, but it was not one of the main things of his life.

  Mother Fen enjoyed cooking for all her children (can you imagine how much cooking she had to do?) but cooking for Baby Panda was the easiest and the most rewarding because he just about loved everything that was served to him, and ate it with such relish that watching him put down a meal was a joy in itself. Baby Panda loved sleeping, and once he fell asleep, no noise in the world could wake him up.

  So that was the family of the Fens. People said it was a peculiar family. They could not understand how there could be a family that was so different from theirs or anybody else’s; and because they could not understand the Fens, they were a little hostile towards them. That means they were not always very friendly, and if they got an opportunity to hurt the Fens, they would.

  When the Fens built a house, the whole family got into the business of what to name it. Every Fen believed that the name of the house was important, and that they should take a lot of care to give it the right name; so even before they started living in the house, they started considering different names.

  Because home was where he was the most happy, the first name that came to Father Fen’s mind was ‘Paradise’. But no sooner had it come to his mind than he rejected it. It was too common a name — it seemed to lack anything special. As a writer, he scolded himself, he should surely be able to think up something better. He felt there must be hundreds of hotels and cinema halls called ‘Paradise’, and he didn’t want his home to have the name of a hotel or a cinema hall! The family discussed the question in their old living room.

  Panchu, who always had an opinion on every important matter, and was sitting with his arms crossed on a little chair on top of a table, gravely suggested,

  “I won’t mind at all if you call it ‘Panchu House.’”

  “Panchu House?” repeated Koala thoughtfully, as if testing the sound the words made; and then he frowned because, a great admirer of Panchu though he was, the name did not quite sound correct — there was no Ma or Papa in it, no Mumbo or Pinchu or Baby Panda.

  “If anyone’s feeling jealous,” observed Panchu, “you can call it by any other name. You can call it ‘Koala House’, but people will think it’s a house where koalas are kept. They will come looking here for koalas, and won’t that be a great nuisance?”

  Everyone except Panchu was laughing by now — they were not laughing at what Panchu said, but at him. Even Koala, who was too innocent to take offense, was laughing, though he was laughing only because the others were laughing. Father Fen and Mother Fen were looking at each other and laughing, Mumbo was guffawing with his head raised and his mouth open; Baby Panda was gurgling at the big plastic ball he held before him; and Pinchu, who usually looked like a pocket-sized professor and was seated in a chair next to Panchu, was not looking like a professor any more because he had his face all pinched up in child-like merriment.

  “Fens’ Den!” he suddenly announced, when his face had come back to normal. “Ma, Papa, can’t we call the house ‘Fens’ Den’?”

  “Fen’s Den!” Koala clapped, at which Panchu threw him a sharp look.

  “Fens’ Den, Fens’ Den!” crooned Baby Panda, hugging the big plastic ball.

  Mumbo sprang up and performed a little dance. “Fens’ Den!” he sang.

  Just when Mother Fen was about to remark, ‘It looks like all the children have liked the name’, Panchu chipped in with,

  “Animals’ den or thieves’ den? Robbers’ den? If you give our house such a name, the police will come and arrest us!”

  Pinchu shook his little forefinger from side to side to show that he did not agree.

  “Den doesn’t have to mean that. It can also have a good meaning. And it goes well with Fen.”

  “Good meaning or bad meaning,” Panchu argued, “tall can never mean short; and short can never mean tall.”

  Mumbo gave another guffaw, though nobody was quite sure of the exact reason. Koala smiled, as was his habit. Baby Panda had curled up on a sofa and was about to fall asleep — these difficult discussions and arguments were not for him.

  Both Father Fen and Mother Fen were really enjoying this family conference.

  Father Fen had picked up a dictionary from a nearby shelf, and now he read out, “Den: wild animal’s lair; place of crime or vice; a small private room. So you see, children, it doesn’t quite fit in — Panchu’s not wrong. I was thinking of calling our house Anand. (It meant joy in their language). Our home is a place of great joy to us, and I pray that it will always remain that way. How do you like the name, Ma Fen?”

  “Why, it’s a beautiful name,” said Mother Fen. “Anand! I hope the children like it as much as I do — Baby Panda, before you fall asleep…” But Baby Panda had already fallen asleep and was dreaming of trees with luscious mangoes hanging from them.

  “Okay, I’ll ask him later. Mumbo?”

  “Yes, Ma?” Do you like the name Anand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why aren’t you dancing?” demanded Panchu. “Like you did for Fens’ Den?”

  Mumbo guffawed. It was a good-natured guffaw, full of the fun of life. “Fens’ Den are dancing words,” Mumbo explained in between his bursts of laughter, “so I danced. “

  “Panchu House were laughing words,” Koala decided gleefully, without meaning anything bad at all, “so we all laughed. “

  “Anand is a sleeping word,” Panchu continued in the same vein, “and so Baby Panda’s gone to sleep.”

  “I guess if we had a vote it would be Fens’ Den that would win,” Father Fen observed.

  “The question is, is it right to have a wrong name even if the majority vote for it? To tell you the truth,” Mother Fen admitted, “I know it’s not perfectly accurate, but Fens’ Den does sound rather nice. Can’t it be that sometimes ninety per cent correct is better than a hundred per cent correct?”

  “If you’re changing the rules, Ma,” Panchu suggested, “can’t we have it that way in studies also… so that the lower marks we get, the better we do?” He was hoping that somebody would give a second thought to Panchu House, but it just didn’t work that way, because Father Fen ignored him and, instead told Mother Fen, “I think you’re quite right — correctness is only one factor. Sometimes what is
more important is originality and imagination. A name must have atmosphere.”

  “Fens’ Den,” Mumbo sang out, standing up, “Fens’ Den, Fens’ Den!” And he performed a little jig which Koala applauded with some lusty clapping.

  Pinchu cleared his throat, making the smallest of sounds.

  “If you will please excuse me, now that the matter has been settled,” he stated in his usual professorial manner. “I would like to go to my laboratory. There’s an important experiment I have to conduct.”

  The meeting was over.

  That is how the name of the house of the Fens now live in came to be known as Fens’ Den. The words are painted in big, cursive, mustard-coloured letters on a rectangular block of polished wood on a post in front of their house.

  The house is full of light and colour. There are red, blue, yellow and pink flowers on either side as you enter their gate, and the windows are of glass for the sun to enter. Inside the house, the walls carry paintings and pictures of snow-capped mountains and silver streams and green, green forests and birds and zebras and tigers and monkeys and elephants. In the bed-room the walls are like the night sky, where you can see the moon and the stars and the milky way, and there are angels looking down from the ceiling, blessing the Fens.

  2 - Mrs. Hysteria’s Visit

  The first neighbour to visit them in their new house was Mrs. Hysteria. She was a woman with sharp features, a hooked nose, and a bustling manner, and even before she had rung the front-door bell, she peeked in through the huge glass windows to look at who was inside and what was going on there.

  It was Mrs. Fen who opened the door.

  “Good morning, I’m Mrs. Hysteria. I live in a building to your left, right next to the dry cleaners. I heard you moving in on Sunday, so I thought I’d just drop in to say hello. So, hello!”

  “Hello!” chimed in a smiling Mrs. Fen, opening the door wider and stepping aside for her visitor to enter.