Alik wrote a beautiful letter from America. In the letter all the wonderful events of life are written so beautifully. Wants to read again and again.
Before concluding the letter, he wrote about Bulu. Wrote about the harp. What a beautiful way to write:
Veena, your brother was very kind. Luckily I didn't meet him much. If I had, I would have fallen in love. And tell me what would happen if something like that happened! Just met him for two days. A few things are the reason why I am having such trouble today. I do not know how you are enduring! Mantm's ability to endure hardships is extraordinary, but he has a limit. You wrote that after regaining consciousness, your brother wanted to read my letter in a gap of various words.
Wanted to know how I am. My great joy is that one dying person wants to know the well-being of another. That one is someone like me. What could be happier than this. Who knows if there is an afterlife. If there is, then your darling brother will be there in absolute happiness. I am sure of this.
It's good to know that your marriage was broken. If you get married, who will see them now? You don't have to take the helm now? I know you will hold on tight. The soft hands of the girls sometimes become as hard as buzz. Time does it. Will do in the morning.
I'm fine. Really good. Doctors have been able to catch the disease. The stain is being removed. There is no stigma on the moon now.
After finishing the letter, Veena sat quietly.
Noon of Shravan month.
The sky is cloudy. On a cloudy afternoon, everything looks different. A crow is crowing in a hoarse voice near the well-ka-ka-ka-ka.
Veena's grandmother said, die Hamzada die.
Encouraged by this, the crow began to call out more-ka-ka-ka. Mr. Mizan is sitting on the verandah muttering and calculating. He has a little head fault. Nothing so horrible. No one outside can catch it. Do everything right. Just keep calculating when you are at home. Tried to reconcile non-matching accounts of the office. Accounts do not match.
Now he is sitting at the water check post on the verandah and doing calculations very fast.
Bablu is watching him. Now he is not afraid of his father at all. Looks rather big. He tells various stories with his father.
Bablu said, what are you doing father?
Mr. Mizan said, account.
Almost. A little left.
Mr. Mizan smiled. Bablu likes this smile very much.
She smiles too.
On tired afternoons the harp sits by the well. Sometimes he says with his face near the well, Lubu, Lubu. The well reverses that word. What a beautiful echo - Bulu, Bulu.
Sounds like a song to the harp. Song of darkness.