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Rated: · Short Story · Other · #1349465
A story about poverty.
Look at that ragged man, improperly dressed in his tattered lungi, his worn-out vest that covers twelve discernible ribs and a broken heart. His feet are bare, his footprints unique, unchanged since time immemorial, but they tell an indifferent tale of our age. Every day his acquaintances die somewhere.

He loves solitude, for companionship has betrayed him forever. In fact he finds joy in his small squalid world. Always captive in his fate of poverty. Man engaged in the struggle of today, where tomorrow is far behind. Another dusk breaks, and night eagerly peels off her clothes and spreads the large carpet of the dark. There, in the city, dawn breaks, more precisely, light challenges the flickering dark. Here, light struggles. Roads are lonely and tired. On the highways, dogs bark meaninglessly at flashing, speeding vehicles. Every night they bark, so who knows, there might be a story behind it. But they don't bark at this ugly creature of mankind; they are well-behaved and more cultured than the tame dogs. He loves them. They love him.

He is the last man returning home, whose footfall is silent and exhausted like a snail's crawling phenomena. He drifts with the drought of injustice, with dwindling hopes and blood-soaked earnings. This is Farina's father Abdullah. He has no title, simply Abdullah.



He was born in the year 1962/1963 AD. Whatsoever, he was born confused. He doesn't know exactly where. His mother died of an unknown disease when he was just five. Millions and millions are dying of this unknown disease.

He never saw his father, nor ever had the chance to search for him, and remained an orphan forever. He managed, however, to survive, for, as the popular saying goes, "God is with him who has nothing."

His life improved when he married a sweet girl named Feroza. Like Abdullah, Feroza was unfortunate and grew up in a slum. But she fell in love with this man. Theirs was a beautiful love story; it was as if they were meant for each other. It has been twenty years since they married, but it could be now as well. Perhaps there is nothing as real as remembrance.


Feroza is suffering from severe anemia these days. Though she has been hounded by asthma always, she feels contempt for what she has. Contentment is a real bliss but it doesn't shower from heaven; it's deep inside the heart.

She used to work at a garment factory, but nowadays she lies the entire day on a cozy, earthy floor, chatting with Farina, Farida, and Tanvir.



They have four children and one yet to come this summer. Fatima is the eldest daughter, nineteen years old, a pampered child with pampered thoughts. She is an exception in the family. Now she continues her mother's legacy...she works. Another daughter ,Farina,is seventeen years old. She is beautiful, sensible, loving.

She is the real mother of the family. She cooks, and takes care of Farida and Tanvir and a sick mother. She does everything . This everything has no limit like a wide open sky though that sky ends at one infinity. There is no infinity for Farina She is an angel in their house.

After her comes Farida. Farida is an unfortunate child who was born mentally ill, though she is sweet. She loves playing with Tanvir. Tanvir loves her too. Her hairstyle resembles a boy's, but that does not really matter to her because she doesn't even know what it's like to be a girl. Tanvir is the youngest of all, seven years old and sick with a congenital heart problem and chronic respiratory distress- It's inexplicable; they can't explain it exactly, but they see him suffering from it. The consequences are real, broken somewhere. Tanvir loves his father, mother, _ Farina, and Farida. but it is a mystery that he never liked Fatima.



2



Abdullah returned home in the same dowdy manner. It seemed contradictory to call it a home. Regardless, he was exhausted, carrying along some ripe yellow kolas. On returning home there was a candle glowing frantically.



"Can I have a mug of water"? Abdullah asked impatiently He leaned back on the thin walls, the vulnerable bamboo and plastic fibers that made their tent-like house.

Farina gave him a mug of water and looked towards her mother, and when she was about to say something, Feroza interrupted. Fatima is not home, I am worried.

What?Abdullah exclaimed.

"Yes, it has been five hours. Every girl has returned except Fatima", Feroza said with misty eyes.


Shortly after, Abdullah left the hut and went in search of his nineteen-year-old daughter in the hungry night. He went to the garment factory, her friends houses, everywhere, everywhere.

There was not a single place he didn't search. Then, like the lost soldiers of the battle returning home, he dared to step into the hut.

There was Fatima. Almighty! He sat happily and shouted, " Where have you been"?

"Father I was on overtime" , Fatima replied slowly.

"But I didn't see you over there", Abdullah argued.

"Nobody knew I was on overtime because they are jealous of me. So I tried to keep it a secret "Fatima dithered.



3

"What do you think I am, a fool?" he yelled with eyes full of tears.

Then Feroza spoke something into Abdullah's eyes and he couldn't deny her request.

He was wordless instantly. His tears were sewed into his eyes.

4
Look I have brought you some delicious biryani.Fatima called her sisters over to eat.



They were innocent – "Yummy, yummy, biryani" ,they shouted innocently.



"Hurray! Hurray!" Farida cheered too, but it was not for the biryani. It was her psyche that understood something happy was happening. Farina and Farida, they were equally so innocent.



5

Abdullah was very fond of the biryani. He'd been swallowing nothing but panthobhat every day, and there was little to love and little nutrition in this rice soaked overnight in water, without even curry or vegetables or green chiles for flavor. But that day he couldn't even see the biryani and neither could Feroza.

6

Bending, Fatima looked below her knees, like something was burning deep inside. She could sense that her father and mother were reading between the lines, but she showed no sign of guilt. She didn't speak a word but just went to sleep. They all slept in a row, one after another. Moments later Abdullah swallowed pantabhat, and green chilies. He was so hungry.

Everybody slept except Abdullah and Feroza. But they both were pretending to be sleeping.They were deceiving each other, but the pillow that soaked all salty water spoke everything.


The following day, Fatima again didn't come back , then she never came back.


Eloping was not uncommon nor a great matter in this kind of society, but it was heartbreaking for Abdullah's family. Even so, life went on , even after.

7

After some months there was an obscure sky. Tanvir suddenly suffered a respiratory attack.

Abdullah held his son's arms, consoling Tanvir, and himself to a great extent.

Farina, along with her father, rushed him to the hospital. But Tanvir had already bade goodbye.

Tanvir was like a cold mountain. Abdullah slapped him.

"Beta, wake. Beta, wake. " There was no response . Abdullah - froze with that mountain ,screaming into the greedy waves of despair.

That was death.

Farina's innocent sentiments scattered; silence gripped her.

Holding his son's cold body along with Farina, Abdullah returned home.



8

"What happened?" Feroza dared to ask.

There was no answer for what had happened. The continuous flow of agonized tears from Abdullah and Farina spoke everything.

"What happened?"Feroza screamed.



"Tanvir is no longer alive. Tanvir is no longer alive!" yelled Abdullah.


Farida stood silently, mournful and distressed. Intuition told her that her best friend was no more, and she went into great shock.

Feroza became angry and roared with pain, "Tanvir is no longer alive!" - Her words echoed into emptiness and left no room for coherent thought. Mangled mentally, she was totally helpless. She didn't eat anything for two weeks despite Farina's and Abdullah's pleas to her.

A few days later, Feroza died of shock, complicated by her anemia. The unfortunate never flourish.



9


Abdullah got mad. He was - enraged by this constant assault, psychologically, socially, economically, and politically.


10


Like a dead cat's newborn kittens, Farina and Farida suffered terribly. They were not taught to seek help from others. They had been cheated too often. They cherished their solitude; it was part of their genesis.


Some said Fatima came back with no smiles and no greetings, but simply handed Farina the Tk 100, turned abruptly, and never came back. Fatima had always been a coldhearted lady; She had never been part of this family.

Now there arose a hunger that made her desperate.

Farina stepped outside from that home in search of work. A young lady, only seventeen years old, searching for work. Society is a character and is the culprit in the injustice. Men were ogling her, dripping saliva. She became a prostitute. Becoming a prostitute was not her choice; she couldn't deny it. The ideology of not taking any invocation was abolished that day .She gave life to her family dying each day.


Even now, she can be found on Dhanmaondi Lake or in the New Markets over the bridge or in Ramna Park, bearing a deep, somber shadow with each new episode and incident. And smiling like a rose, she asks, "Will you go with me?" bargaining for life. She is overwhelmed by this blasting and blistering world, leaving nothing but ashes, but with a heart of love untapped, she waits, yearning for her destiny.

This story has no ending; neither it did have a beginning.



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