The Kolkata Conundrum

The Gathering at College Street

The next afternoon, the streets of College Street hummed with their usual rhythm. Book stalls lined the sidewalks, each one crammed with dusty tomes and paperbacks, and the air carried the mingled smells of old pages, burning incense, and the occasional whiff of fresh luchis frying in a nearby stall.

Feluda, Jatayu, Madhuri, and I arrived at the Coffee House just as the clock struck four. The tables were filled with students, professors, and artists, all deep in animated conversation. This was the heart of Kolkata's intellectual life, and it pulsed with an energy that even the heavy heat couldn't stifle.

"Prodosh-babu!" A voice called out, cutting through the din. A thin, bespectacled man in a faded white kurta rose from a table at the back, waving us over. His face looked weary, with dark circles under his eyes, but his posture was dignified. This, I realized, was Prabir Bose.

Feluda nodded and led us to the table, where Prabir Bose greeted us with a polite "Namaskar." We exchanged pleasantries before he motioned for us to sit.

"I must apologize for the secrecy," he began, his voice low and a little hoarse. "But it was necessary. My brother Shantanu...he'd been involved in some highly unusual research—something he believed would change how we view our own history."

Jatayu leaned forward, his eyes widening. "What sort of research, exactly?"

Prabir sighed. "Shantanu was studying the influence of early Bengali art on regional culture. Recently, he became obsessed with a small, ancient artifact that he claimed held some...secret message. He called it Shyamal Murtir Sandesh—The Message of the Dark Idol."

The name sounded oddly chilling. Even Madhuri, who'd been silent up to this point, leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Prabir with intense curiosity.

Feluda's eyes narrowed. "And this artifact—does it have a history?"

Prabir nodded. "It was supposedly discovered in an obscure village near the Sundarbans decades ago. It's a small, black idol made of a dark stone, no larger than the size of one's palm. My brother believed it was over two thousand years old."

"A treasure, then," Feluda murmured, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind. "But I suppose it wasn't just the idol itself that intrigued him."

Prabir adjusted his glasses and leaned in. "Exactly. Shantanu believed the idol held a hidden message, encoded in an ancient script. He thought it might lead to an unknown part of our history, possibly even a treasure."

Jatayu's eyes lit up. "Treasure? Like gold?"

Feluda chuckled softly. "Not necessarily gold, Jatayu-babu. Sometimes knowledge is treasure enough."

As Prabir continued, he became visibly uncomfortable, wringing his hands as though unsure how much to reveal. "Then, one night last week, Shantanu went missing. All he left behind was a single scrap of paper with one line scrawled across it: Shyamal er prithibi andhakarey lukiye ache. The world of Shyamal is hidden in darkness."

"Curious," Feluda murmured. He tapped his fingers on the table, his gaze distant. "If he left that message deliberately, it must mean the idol was somehow connected to his disappearance. Did he have any enemies, or perhaps anyone who might have known of his discovery?"

Prabir hesitated, glancing around the room as though expecting prying ears. "I...don't know. But I do know Shantanu recently grew secretive, even paranoid. He'd talk about shadows following him, about feeling watched."

Madhuri exchanged a glance with me, her expression a mix of intrigue and unease.

Feluda leaned forward. "And where is this idol now?"

"It's...gone." Prabir's voice cracked, and his eyes seemed to darken. "I searched Shantanu's study after he vanished. The idol, his notes—all missing. It was as though he'd taken his work with him into the shadows."

For a moment, the four of us sat in silence, the hum of the Coffee House dimming around us. I could see Feluda's mind at work, connecting dots that were invisible to the rest of us.

Finally, he looked at Prabir and said, "We'll need to visit your brother's home. Perhaps something remains—a detail, a clue that might bring us closer to him."

Prabir nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Of course. Whatever you need, Mr. Mitter."

As we rose from the table, Jatayu mumbled something about buying a copy of his latest thriller at a nearby stall, though I noticed he cast a wary look over his shoulder more than once. Madhuri, meanwhile, seemed absorbed in thought, her brows knitted as she fell into step beside me.

"I didn't know people could vanish like this," she said, almost to herself. "One day he's there, and then—nothing."

I gave her a reassuring smile. "Not much stays hidden from Feluda for long. We'll find Shantanu Bose—one way or another."

But as I glanced at Feluda, striding confidently ahead, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just another mystery. The Message of the Dark Idol, the cryptic message, the shadowed world Shantanu had spoken of—all of it felt as though we were on the brink of something that would test even Feluda's legendary skills.