Friend

Friend ...

I'm hanging out with that guy but I think someone else was supposed to be here.

Sayanti covered her face with a mug of coffee. A few bushy hairs are hanging down his forehead, his lips are trembling, his nose is sweating even in this cold winter. We used to tease her a lot when she was in university, her husband becomes sohagi when her nose is sweaty. The word 'Swami Sohagi' probably brought a smile to my eyes as soon as it came to my mind, because I could see that Sayanti's eyebrows were slightly wrinkled.

This is not funny lira. I feel like a dustbin myself.

I pressed Sayanti's right hand tightly and said, give me some time, everything will be fine. But nothing was said. Still, Sayanti felt reassured, the relief in her eyes. I smiled softly.

At this time of the thirties, the time seems like a fog to us. This is it, this is mixing, a damp sadness surrounds us all the time, whereas five years ago we used to laugh a lot. As we walked along Fuller Road, laughter would fall from our hands on the almost dark gray pitch road. It was as if the petals of marigolds were scattered on the road. Sayanti would fall asleep while lecturing in the dead class of computer architecture, and he would raise his voice from one side and it would spread like a chain reaction throughout the class. If Sir looked at us with injured eyes, we would smile. When we used to walk on the streets wearing sari on Pahela Boishakh or Pahela Phagun and there was a rainbow of joy around us, then our life did not happen.

Now the ink like Surma lying in the corner of our eyes, or the sleeping canvas of the night, tells us that we are not well. But we thought we would be very happy. Sayanti put a smile on the neck of the helpless embarrassed sir of computer architecture, but the world did not last for two years.

I paid the coffee bill and rented a rickshaw. Hours contract. Dhaka city will be toured. I have evaded the office, Sayanti has come to the country on a fortnight's leave.

But you don't think I didn't try. But you know there was no tension. Don't think that the melody is cut, there was never any melody here. Tell me how I made such a mistake?

Sayanti is fidgeting. There was a sigh in my chest. Sayanti got married again. Now the family's choice, home in the States, nice people. The message also spoke to me for two days. But in the lap of Sayanti's eyes is the confusion of duality.

Maya and arrogance are very bad things, I understand Lira. I fell in love with the embarrassed eyes of the man. Then the mountain became haughty, he did not understand at all. Towards the end the conversation subsided, if you wanted to know something I would tell you everything, but I could see a sea distance between the two. Couldn’t bear so much neglect, how much we loved to smile. I forgot to smile with him. I had to be cruel, only to be kind. I understand I gave him a card before I left. I wrote in short-

‘Even if I feel lonely with you, how can I be more upset than that?’

He didn't say anything at all and I felt very insulted. Can you tell me why I couldn't do the world?

I looked at Sayanti and smiled softly. Sometimes we don't have to say anything, we just have to listen. We find a man to blow away the vapors of the mind. Don't go to any judgment, don't force your comments in the middle of the speech, you have made a mistake, don't say you have to suffer. We sometimes find people who will just listen. When we return home with the fatigue of the weekend, we feel like we are sitting in the middle of the green, let the sun be silent, there is no fresh breath. Sometimes we find a silent friend like a little secluded house, who may not have any solution, but with a little talk we will leave Huff alive. We find a man to go to church and confess. I think Sayanti was looking for people to talk to.

The wheel of our rickshaw turned and brought us to Dhanmondi. We paid the rent and went down. Sayanti was restless then. Her eyes are turning and a swarm is falling on the balloon again and again. The one with the balloon is moving forward little by little. Seeing such a colorful balloon reminded me of a funny memory. Seba had my surgery, I was housebound for a long time, I became irritable, Sayanti came to my house with a balloon in her hand. I was on the porch then. From a distance, I saw a strange pink CNG with a large private written on the back, how many colored balloons hung on the door of the CNG and came to the bottom of the house in our deserted alley. I raised my voice like a deer and saw Sayanti coming. We then went to the roof, took off the balloons at once and thought what a wonderful world the world was! My bad moods turned to clouds that day.

Asking Sayanti to stand for five minutes, I ran after the balloon waller. Ten minutes later, on Sat Masjid Road, some surprised people saw two young women walking down the street with gas balloons like colored flowers in their hands. They had no worries about career, old parents, family, children or anything.