One of my relatives, Fakiha Haider. Law-pass, but not advocacy. A high-ranking official in the law department of a private office. He lives in Dhaka with his girlfriend. The village home is Barisal. The two live in a small flat in Mugdar. In the meantime, one day I found out that Fakihar was married. The groom is also highly educated. Own a company. About a month after the marriage, I suddenly met him at the corner of Gulistan. Fakiha was overjoyed to see me. A-re Hakim brother that! What luckNot only myself, but also a couple of other friends. Within a few days, several houses were found. Fakiha and her husband Yusuf came out of the house once. But Fakiha, such a picky girl, did not like a house. The search for a home began again. Finding a home in Dhaka market is also a big risk. One month, two months, three months passed. I finally met her. 33/6, Segunbagicha. A little old house. Thin. Although newly painted. Two rooms. Adjacent to veranda, bathroom. The rent is low.I understood it by looking at your eyes and face, I said in a soft tone. What's the matter Bad body? No, but Fakiha stopped. I looked at him questioningly, something bad? Uh-huh, he shook his head. Not getting a good night's sleep. What is he! Lack of sleep is a very bad disease. Did you see a doctor? The doctor can't do anything, Hakim Bhai, Fakihar's disinterested answer. That means! I mean, Hakim Bhai, Fakiha stopped for a while after swallowing a sip, that house is not good.
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