My first try at Nano Wrimo |
Fariha was busy with a lot of homework, and extra-curricular activities. A-levels was much Fariha was busy with a lot of homework, and extra-curricular activities. A-levels was much harder than O –levels. In fact, she felt like being thrown into the Pacific Ocean from a mere Bangladeshi pond. She even had to reduce her time online and on the cellphone just to keep running with the three-miles-long syllabus and even if she did not want to, some parts of certain subjects had to be memorized, something she just loathed doing. At first, Fariha did not want to take Math or Mechanics for her A-levels, but she was thankful that she did after all, because those subjects helped her fish out some extra points to her progress report, which was crucial for the dreadful A levels exams just after two years. On one of such busy days, Fariha was sitting under the shady Banyan tree in the school playground, immersed in English literature. Most of her peers were also busy either doing assignments, or doing group discussions. The soothing rays of the winter sun were helping them relax in spite of the academic pressure. A few crows thronged around bits of leftover lunch scattered here and there. The atmosphere was still a bit foggy; credit goes to the continuous cold wave going on for the last few days. The seasonal business of traditional rice cakes already reached a peak, the sweet smell of rice and molasses passed through every single living nose. There was a temporary mud stove set just outside the school gate. A middle aged woman clad in a simple hand knit Sari sat beside the stove, filling up the cake dice with a mixture of coconut, rice flour and molasses. Large, round cakes popped up within minutes. A huge number of people already stood in line to grab one or more than one of those long waited desserts. Dry leaves cracked under school shoes. Even the gatekeepers were munching on the Pitha. After all, who would resist a cheap, healthy snack? The cakes were sold at ten taka each, which meant selling just ten cakes gave the lady a good income of one hundred taka, which was enough to buy groceries for one day. Fariha occasionally sipped from a container of readymade milk shake, her eyes still fixed on the pages of Jane Eyre. The classic novel was part of her course, and language was something she enjoyed studying, though some of her acquaintances would try to discourage her passion. Fariha was so immersed into her book that she did not see Shanto approaching her. The boy looked simple and sweet in a white T shirt and black trousers. His thick black hair had some noticeable maroon highlights in it. His skin looked a little sunburnt and even one or two pimples peeped out of his unshaved face. The bags under his eyes hid behind thick framed spectacles. A leather college bag hung from one of his shoulders. Gradually, he walked towards his childhood friend, a fisted hand resting on his bag. “Hey gorgeous, may I get a minute?” He asked with a curt nod. “Hey pal, I’m no princess, you don’t have to bow like that.” Fariha grinned, revealing a few of her small, shiny teeth. Shanto led her by the arm towards a comparatively quieter corner, where they would not be noticed easily. They settled themselves on the grass, smashing a few wild flowers. Citrus butterflies fluttered over the marigold plants surrounding the place. A sharp, yet sweet whistle of a magpie notified that spring was not far away. “Shanto, buddy, what’s all this? Why are you being so unusual all of a sudden?” Fariha asked, uncertain of what might come next. “I had been…um…” Shanto stammered, unable to get his thoughts out. Fariha toyed with a strand of hair in front of her forehead. She moved a few stray hairs with her thumb and index finger. Blinking for a brief moment; she looked deep into her friend’s eyes. He had a velvet jewelry box on his rough palm. A round, pearl ring glowed inside the casket. “We’ve grown up together, now let’s be together for the rest of our lives. Be mine!” Shanto uttered this long sentence in one breath as he slid the ring through her slender finger. Fariha looked down on her ornament in awe. A simple smile polished pleasure all over her face. She had been dreaming of this day ever since she had learnt to understand love. Three magic words crossed her lips as they wrapped each other in their arms. Check out
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