YA' ABURNEE

Chapter 4

Author's note: My preciouses! Whoever is still sticking to this story, by now you must've guessed, I've added another gem of Bangla song. It'll be mentioned later in this chapter. Nevertheless I highly recommend it.

I've been thinking. For whole two effing weeks, I've been thinking.

This time, both Umair and I handled this situation with maturity. Unlike last time, we actually talked. While having meals or even preparing one, we talked about nothing and everything. Umair escaped that topic for a good reason and I'm thankful for that.

Because I wasn't done thinking.

When my father was still alive he did all of the thinking for me. He sheltered me like a thousand year old Banayan tree. Shadowing me with his strong trunks and broad green leaves, from the scorching sun outside.

Now with him gone I'm suddenly dragged to face the sun. Keeping an eye to eye with the sun was hard enough. But the harder task is straight off given to me. To choose another tree for a shelter. A tree that can be and can not be trustworthy enough. A tree that can and can not provide any shelter. A tree that may or may not break down right on your head snapping your neck.

I couldn't restrain my mind from comparing him to my father in every step Umair took. And that was certainly not helping.

"Do you have any work tomorrow?" Umair said from behind me as I was doing the dishes and he prepared coffee for both of us.

I can't remember when this happened, him helping me out in the kitchen. One day he came and said,"Can I help?" I said,"Why not?" From then on, fifty percent of our conversations took place while doing household chores.

"No. Its Friday. Why would I?"

"No, not like office errands. Let me rephrase. Do you have any plan tomorrow?"

"Oh that. No. I never do."

"Okay then-" He took both coffee mugs and put those on the counter beside me before continuing, "-can I take you somewhere tomorrow?"

"Where?" I asked curiously.

"Do you want to go?" He seemed shocked. As if I were to answer differently.

"I didn't say I would. I asked where." I was adamant of not giving in so easily.

"Oh." The disappointment, he soon laced it with indifference. "Let's keep that a surprise."

"I don't like surprises." I turned my head to the opposite direction. It was a surprise when a three year old child was dragged off her mother's lap. It was a surprise when my father was snatched away from me.

"I'm sure from now on you'll do."

"Confidence huh?" I smirked at the proud stance he took suddenly.

"Ahuh." He nodded affirmatively.

                ___________________

Bangladesh is a riverine country. A line I've always written in my essays relating to either Bangladesh or the rivers she bears. I thought it was just a line itself because population and modernization have gulped down many rivers of Bangladesh. Leaving it look like a jungle of concrete.

Never in my thousand dreams I would've dreamt of a place so beautiful as the one I'm staring at right now.

Why didn't I ever heard of it? Why didn't anyone even posted about this?

In this era of social media, any beautiful place becomes a tourist spot. And Bangladesh being a rather small country with larger population never helped the fact.