I miss one a lot lately. What did people say before they got used to the word miss? I miss you so much, I want to see you or I want to talk to you. I can't find the same depth of the word miss in any of this. It is normal to lose the depth of many old emotions due to long-term unaccustomedness. Now she is living with another person. I should forget him. But I can't forget him. I still love you, I still love you, wanting to shout in a haughty voice with great difficulty ....
Where did I first see him? Yes, on a rainy afternoon on the street in front of our house. I clearly remember. One day in my honors first year. It had been raining since noon. Didn't even go to college. How much longer can you read a book or spend time lying down? Annoyed, I went upstairs to the balcony. As soon as I look at the road, I see a green girl with open hair riding on a hooded rickshaw with a drizzle on her head. Raise both hands to touch the rain. Nice view. A scene that rejuvenates the subdued mind. Cute one girl, letting go of her hair. Who doesn't like to see the amazing view of Vega in the rain on a hooded rickshaw. Such scenes are not seen again and again. Such a scene does not capture the tree.
I don't know if I ate the crash on him then. But I know why the rainy damp afternoon became bright in my mind. The light of a thousand lamps shines in the mind that has become uplifted. The violin-piano played around. Shining at the moment, I dragged Maj Apu to the roof. I got wet in the rain, I forcibly wet Mej Apu too.
Apu told me, Rashed, you are a madman from the beginning. What is the benefit of soaking the body in the rain? It's just a hobby to catch a cold.
I could not tell Apu that day that those who are soaking in the rain as a hobby are not soaking their bodies, they are soaking their minds in the rain. Meaningful artistry sometimes lives in wetting the mind, not in soaking the body.
Since then I used to see him once or twice a week. Sometimes on a rickshaw, sometimes on foot. New ones came to our colony then. Intermediate is studying in the first year. Surprisingly, a few months later, I noticed that I automatically stood by the grill on our balcony, like a robot, in the morning and in the evening. Looking at the street waiting!
The word wait seemed extremely annoying to me. I could not hold this word at any time. There is no need to say what the word sounds like waiting for a man made of blood and flesh where the tree comes alive when it smells of love.
I have always been adept at giving love tips to friends. But in my own case I saw the complete opposite. Vitu's egg. I don't know how many times I went in front of him. Couldn't say a word. In front of him, it really seems like a cluster bomb explodes in my mouth, but the word 'two' doesn't come out. I will say it again and again.
About a year later. After playing cricket with my cousins in the backyard, I came out on the street wearing a half-sleeved T-shirt with three-quarter pants and saw Fahmi walking with a college bag slung over her shoulder. Probably going to college. That's when I had to talk to Mathai L today. As soon as I came forward, I said with some nervousness, hi, I am Rashed.
Yes i know
So, how?
Your cousin Muntaha is my classmate.
I felt that my confidence was growing a bit. I said, I'm telling you, you must not mind. What's your name
What's to mind, my name is Fahmida Fahmi.
Wow, very nice name, I live in this alley. This is our house after two or four buildings.
I know. Muntaha almost talks about you. Rashed Bhai Han, Rashed Bhai Tan, Hee Hee Hee ....
I also laughed and said, by the way, Fahmi, you must use Facebook. Tell me your ID name? So that I can add you.
Sorry, no ID. Not everyone can be given an ID. Fahmi said with a smile.
Ghaseti Begum's cruel smile seemed to be the most touching smile in the world for so long. I say to myself, it doesn't suit such cute girls to be so tough. Without realizing the sudden nervousness, I said, "OK, you have full authority not to give your ID to anyone." It doesn't matter. OK Fahmi, it's nice to talk to you.
Fahmi's voice came again as soon as I turned around to say bye. My ID name is Fahmi CTG .... The boy who didn't dare to come forward and say anything, just stole through the window of the house, had no desire to give him my ID. Even then I gave it to you. Fahmi smiled.
Is that so? Thanks to Lot Fahmi. I said. But I was embarrassed.
Listen, you've come a long way, barefoot. Said Fahmi.
No problem. I said in my mind not to come barefoot like this again and again in the morning. Then I said goodbye to Fahmi.
It seemed like the first time I had spoken to Fahmi that day, wow, what a flashing voice. Shyamla girl is not only cute, she can also speak in a great manner. Since then, the flavor of that fascination has been in my ears 24 hours a day. And it kept ringing in my ears the boy who didn't dare to come forward and say anything, just stole through the window of the house, had no desire to give him my ID.
Since then everything has been easy. Accepted after sending friend request. Like each other's status or pictures, comments, high hello in the inbox to know the details of each other's lives. Hang out occasionally. Take small gifts. In fact, feeling good is the name of a surprising dynamic. Which is unveiled in its own way without anyone's hands. Distance creates the path. Builds the path from the path.
I was about to tell Fahmi what I liked. I could not understand how to say. The fear was that he might not want to get involved in the relationship or ignore it. One day we were chatting on Facebook.
I wrote that one day I would be silently lost in the lifeless streets of a lonely city suffering from jaundice.
Fahmi wrote, the loneliness of the yellowish streets of the city lit by sodium in the middle of the night is also very dear to me, take me with you?
Inside me I felt a slight jolt. Are you replying with understanding? I inboxed again. If you want to fly, let's fly in the same sky.
The answer is, then either I will become a kite of the same color.
I played the shaking a little stronger. I think to myself, is Fahmi serious! I wrote that his wife was trying to call a young woman Mayawati in Shyamlat on the night of her escape.
May I be your Mayawati?
Wow! This is what I wanted.
I know.
Let me tell you something.
Tell me.
I love you!
I love you too! Fahmi wrote.
Billboards don't actually need to express love. Love does not have to be expressed, love is expressed by itself. After many days of mingling, I realized that Fahmi was slowly weakening towards me. I didn't have a headache with Fahmi being too sweet or annoying. I have not tried the color of the skin is pale or bright green. Whether there is a flat-land in Chittagong city in the name of Fahmi was also left out of the calculation. Instead, I found out if he had an anklet on his leg. Whether his emotions overflowed when he saw the moonlight or whether he left Rabindra Sangeet and reached through the gap in the window grill and touched the rain.
Some of the moments spent with Moody's favorite man are like the perfume of a famous brand that lingers in the alley of the mind for a long time. The fragrance continues to spread. This is the definition of happiness for me. Before that, I had given it to Mutual in the chat room innumerable times. Nor is there an account of how many times we have traveled together.
But I know why the four-five hour moment spent with him on the day of Holy Boishakh was a great joy for me. Hand-filled glass bangles matched with white sarees in red. And the red tip in the middle of the forehead was peeking out loudly at Bangaliana. On the same day, for the first time together, we rode together in a rickshaw with a hood through the gate number two to become the premier university in the alley at the corner of GEC. On that day, for the first time, we walked hand in hand. For a few hours the index finger of his left hand was covered with the index finger of my right hand! How can I forget this unimaginable moment.
As the days go by the scope of our relationship continues to grow. Mutual respect and trust continue to rise. Our relationship was going on like a dream. We built a world of our own. Just like us. We continue to weave our dreams for the future. In that day, Fahmi's intermediate final is over and I will give the final of honors third year. One day Fahmi's phone, the boy will come to see me tomorrow. And you sit and suck your fingers. Rashed, please do something.
What are you talking about? If you don't tell me a few days ago, you will take care of any problem in the next four years.
If you have time to handle! Today the big thinker is telling me that he is coming to see me tomorrow. Boy is the relative of our distant relationship! The Bangkok Super Market has a showroom for the boy's bata market. Abbu's mind doesn't seem to have the speed advantage. Please find a way soon ...Before Fahmi could finish speaking, her father's babbling in a masculine voice filled the other end of the mobile. Who? Who do you talk to? I'm not telling you not to contact Rashed. The words do not reach the ears. Meanwhile, give me a mobile. Hello who Hello! Why don't you talk Rashed?
G Uncle Slamalaikum, how are you?
Where are you going to be better? Why do you repeatedly call Fahmida's mobile? What's the matter, any problem?
No uncle, no problem, but I ... we ....
What we all do is we. Listen, Dad, if you like Fahmida, ask your mentors to come to our house.
Uncle, it will take another two to three years to complete my study. How in this situation .... Please give us some time?
This is what I mean by this. Before you build your current Polapan, do all the relationship filth. Build yourself up first then think of something else. Listen Dad, you're my son's age, I'm telling you with folded hands, don't try to contact Fahmi even once again. Let my daughter get married in a good house, please.
Fahmi's father cut the phone line. I just sit there like an idiot. It seemed like the world was a mess! The world above my head is spinning. I could not understand what to do. After a while I became normal and waited for Fahmi's phone call. I have been waiting for one, two, three hours, when that ever-familiar number will appear on the screen of my mobile. After a while, the word is changing skin like a snake and is starting to take on its own form again. I call myself without seeing any speed. Floating from the other end is The Number You Have Calling Can't Be Reached At This Moment. I call after a while and the same sound comes out. A day later, I found out that Fahmi's entire family had moved to Bogra.
Since then, I have been looking at Fahmi's call or message on my mobile phone thousands of times 24 hours a day. I used to check the inbox of Facebook to see if Fahmi was active. No message or call. After spending almost nine days like this, Fahmi's voice came to me at one o'clock in the night to receive a call from an unknown number on my mobile. You did nothing to stop the marriage. The pig cried because I will never forgive you.
What else can I say at that moment? I'm speechless. My chest is bursting. My dreamy Mayawati is getting lost I really can't do anything. He seemed to be a coward. The word limitation sometimes corners people in such a way that they lose the language of the mouth in an instant. Tears only speak then.
Everyone has an untold story. No one knows the news of that story, no one keeps it. Everyone wants to have a happy ending to their story. I have always been a dreamer type boy. I didn't intentionally tell Fahmi whether it was because I didn't want to end the story or not. Fahmi is not lost from my life. Why would I just say bye? Other than that, I don't believe in the word unattainable. By and large I can call it emptiness. Zero also has existence, shape, motion-nature and scope. Interestingly, there is also a uterus that holds fullness. Emptyness means waiting and waiting means survival. So there is nothing to despair about the emptiness inside the chest. Life is hidden throughout the emptiness.
I miss Fahmi very much when it starts raining. I became nostalgic. On a rainy afternoon, the amazing sight of that slender girl sitting in a hooded rickshaw with her hair open and touching the rain still haunts me all the time. The sound of pouring rain on the quiet street still smells like Fahmi. Fahmi is not to be lost.
Thank you so much