Everything is beautiful if you have eyes to see. If you want to get the essence of the beauty of nature, you need insight. This is why the poet wrote - I did not see a dew drop on a paddy field two feet away from the house. The words of the poem seem to have come true in the lives of the friends of our De-Chut Travel Association. I have gone many times just to hang out, cross the new bridge of Savar Namabazar, Rupnagar of Fordnagar. But Khararchar, Faringa did not go a little further to Kangsa or the first section of Fordnagar. At present, the first section of Fordnagar perimeter falls in Singair of Manikganj district and the second section falls in Dhamrai upazila of Dhaka district. But it is very easy and close to go through Savarbazar Road in these two sections. One day in a hurry, the friends of De-Chut Travel Association went for a walk. Admin level friends of the organization rushed to Khararchar village on several motorbikes at 7 am. Wandering around the beautiful village like in the picture. We went to Kangsha, a village on the banks of Dhaleshwari river in Manikganj upazila. Surprisingly, there is still the form of authentic rural Bengal on so many sides of Dhaka. Looking at the nature of Kangsa, it is unbelievable that the distance here is only about 36 kilometers from the zero point of the noisy city of Dhaka. Surrounded by breathtaking nature. No noise.

I see the form of calm Dhaleshwari from the top of Kangsha Bridge. Unable to cope with the greed for a while, he jumped into the river. Water sports as desired. I was lost in the mud of the water all over my body, lost in the memories of my childhood. Another middle-aged local, Majer Ali, enjoys such childhood with middle-aged people sitting on the banks of the river. Jigai and brother Ki Dehen. He replied, insane body. Ha ha ha- what a brother! Are we crazy? Majer Ali said, I am another madman. If you are not crazy, what else can I do? Wow quite a reasonable answer. The man liked it. I got up from the water at the call of Jumu'ah. The madman of the new import is also our companion. This time, who gets the left-handed damals. Talk about rubbing salt in my wounds - d'oh! Hee hee hee everyone smiled. I went with him to the other side of the Kangsha Bridge to pray. I visit the village at the end of Friday. Now suck on the stomach. We went again for lunch, to the guest house of Khararchar Madrasa which was already arranged. Udor purti goes on quite comfortably. After eating and drinking, I went to Faringa village. There is an old banyan tree standing in the middle of the vast crop field. Chatting there for a while. This time we went to the village of Kazialkundu on the banks of the river Banshi. The newly paved road has gone towards Dhulivita of Aricha Highway. Forestry has been created on both sides of the road. Quite a nice secluded environment. Huge bill next to the road. Fishermen catch fish in their minds. After seeing all those captivating scenes, I left for Chauthail village. In the middle of the wide horizon of Rupnagar across the field, I gave a break for fun miners in the form of mustard flowers. As far as the eye can see - only yellow mustard flowers. A group of migrants from distant lands flew in the sky. We also ran without delay and hid.

The fun of riding a motorbike on the back roads of the village in the late afternoon is different. These trails are one of the most interesting places for bikers and cyclists to ride. I reached Chauthail in a short time. On this side Dhaleshwari has the form of a narrow canal. Probably the vulture sight of the river hunters. But the natural beauty is still extraordinary. The fields of green crops, the chirping of birds in the bamboo groves, the sweet smiles of the farmers, the inquisitive inquiries of the simple people of the village were quite interesting. As I was about to take the essence of the journey, I saw the bright red sun tilting in the western sky for six days. At a rapid pace, Jasim and Hanif were busy pitching a tent on the banks of Dhaleshwari. Durya rushes to the market in search of barbecue chicken. And I'm lazy, just watching them run. After Maghrib, the story of burning chickens in the light of full moonlight begins. With the chicken meat roasting hot in the freezing air, the full moon looks like-

Freshly baked bread. When I go to such a place, anyone who has to sing in a restless manner, I see once / again / see the face of Bengal. That's really it. But in the nature of the first volume, whose second volume has so many forms, I don't know how many more magical natural beauties are mixed....