On the way to Earth

I was coming to Dhaka by Silk City train from Shaheed Mansur Ali station in Sirajganj. There was a middle-aged foreigner sitting in the seat next to me. As far as I know from the initial identity his name is Paul Anderson. He is a religious priest and pilgrim. Much of the caravan life is his, nomadic life. Went to see Kantji's temple in Dinajpur. From there to Kansat in Chapai Nawabganj. Seeing the Sona Mosque, he is now on his way to Dhaka. Then go to Rangoon.

Silk City was slowly crossing the Jamuna. Then it was raining. The waking chars have been submerged in water. Water is splashing all over the Jamuna. The Jamuna looked like the sea. No shores can be seen on the other side. Paul was looking at the river Jamuna in amazement through the train window!

Paul: Is the name of this river Jamuna?

Me: Yes, this is the river Jamuna.

Paul: A very beautiful river. I see water and water in the distance. Then which city or village is there?

Me: There is no city on the other side of that water, only villages and crop fields along the river.

That's how I keep talking to Paul. The train is already crossing the Jamuna and heading towards Dhaka. As far as I know about Paul on the way to Mirzapur --- Paul was born in Hurst, Texas, USA. Her mother was Burmese. Paul's father fell in love with Paul's mother while he was working in Rangoon and later got married. Paul's father's next posting was in Bombay. And Paul spent his adolescence in Bombay, India. Paul's mother died prematurely in this city.

The train stops at Mirzapur station. Another train will be crossing here. Seeing that it would be too late for the train to leave, I got off at Paul station and started walking on the platform.

Me: Paul, then talk.

Paul: Dad moved to Hearst when I was nine years old. It is unfortunate that my father died in a road accident that same year.

We go and sit in a tea shop. And don't drink tea. Paul offered me a cigarette. I was saying while smoking a cigarette --- Paul, tell me something about your house and world.

Paul: My wife is an Irish girl. He now lives in Dublin. Isolated life. I have a seven-year-old daughter with him. The name is Milisha.

Paul shows me a picture of his daughter out of the money bag. Her daughter looks like a cute fairy.

Paul is holding another cigarette. The train coming from Dhaka stopped at the station. We got on the train again.

As the train passed the Mouchak forest, I saw Paul staring deep into the forest. I call Paul, 'Paul?'

Paul: Yes, Coyle.

Me: You are so lonely now! How do you spend your time

Paul: I am doing religious work. I am traveling around the country. Walking alone on the path of the world. Wandering around in different places of worship. I talk to people of different religions and castes. I hear the message of my religion from other people. I will go to Rangoon tomorrow. Grandpa and Grandma will go to the graveyard. I will pray for them. I will visit the Buddhist temples there. This is how life goes. Spend time this way.

Our train is speeding towards Dhaka. I did not understand when Tongi came. I told Paul, I'll get off at the airport station in front.' The last question I asked Paul was, "Paul, you've traveled a lot in the world, in which country or where do you want to die?" '' Hearing my question, Paul's face turned sad. The eyes seemed to become heavy.

Paul: I want to die in your city of Bombay, India. I spent my childhood and childhood there. The sky wind still pulls me there. As a child, my parents used to walk around the shores of the Arabian Sea holding hands. My mother's grave is in that city. That city calls me. I also remember our little house on Marine Drive Road. The train blew its whistle and stopped at the airport station. I said goodbye to Paul and went downstairs.

I said goodbye to Paul, will I ever see you again? Paul said, maybe in one way or another. This is one of the trains.

Thank you.