I wanted to study in Dhaka College. Mother does not agree with anything. My father and I mean mother. After that, I was admitted to Dhaka College in the humanities department.
You don't have to pay for college. However, there is the cost of living. Sometimes my parents pay for my expenses by borrowing paddy or jute. Sometimes I have to pay money even if the land is mortgaged. In the meantime my college life ended. Seeing the result, everyone understands that there will be a chance in Dhaka University. When I go home, I tell my mother that I will be a professor of English. I also got admission in English. The elder sister has already passed and taken mastery in school. Even if the husband does the house, it helps the family more or less.
I live in the hall (South Hall Room 106), I do tuition from time to time. Who likes to teach the next boy or girl by ringing the calling bell at home, but still has to.
Sometimes I leave tuition and write letters to my mother. Money comes from home with his hands. With the mother's handwritten letter, 'Don't worry about the money, I will teach you even if the house is sold'. I don't find tuition again. When I went to teach at the house of a rich man in Gulshan-Banani, I thought, will my own children also do tuition in these houses?
Strikes and blockades to demand the fall of the government, universities are closed, halls are vacated, sessions are tangled, honors are not passed. Even though farmland has been reduced by mortgaging or selling, money regularly comes from home. The senior brother in the next room has been elected as the ASP of the police with BCS. The seniors and juniors of the hall greet each other, discussing his bright future in front or behind the scenes.
So much respect for ASP, the boy decided in his mind that he will also be ASP. Like buying a car before a horse, I secretly prepare for BCS. The test is circular, the eligibility to participate in the test has already been done. First Choice Police. None of the fourteen groups is in the police force. When you join the police, you have to train for blasphemy, people are ruined.
The future mother of the only son will not accept anything. The boy's insistence that he will be an ASP, this time again that simple father came forward. One step after another, the final result comes out. I kept looking for my roll number with my girlfriend on the notice board hung by PSC.
The police are looking for the cadre. The frustration of not being able to look from the bottom continues to grow. This cannot happen, the test has given much better. I got nervous seeing the first roll at the top, am I not looking wrong? I told my girlfriend to look, I took out the admit card from my pocket myself. No, the roll numbers really match! The boy was the first! I went back home the next day. I sit next to my mother for a long time. Join the dream job. Days, months, years go by. Step by step my position increases.
That I am now in a high position in the police department. So many years have passed, so much has changed. My father has passed away, my mother's age has also increased, various diseases have taken root in her body. Mother did not change. When it is late to return home due to work pressure, mother does not sleep, chases by phone. When I went to the office in the morning, my mother said, "Be careful, there are people with you."
During the strike, the mother said, "What is the point of going to the office in the midst of this noise?" The boy can be seen as soon as the TV is turned on. Mom called, ‘Why is your face so dry?’ At the dinner table, Mom said, ‘Have you eaten so little?’ As soon as she fell in front of Mom, she said, ‘You are getting drier day by day. Didn't you have any illness?
Sometimes the grandchildren tell the story of their son's childhood. If he is not near, he calls every day with the sick body and takes the news of the boy's body. Looking at the mother's condition, it seems that her little boy is still there. Everything in the world changes, not just the mother's selfless love for her child. This loving mother is a reflection of my mother, my pregnant mother, all the mothers in the world.
Nice artical dear