অনুগ্রহ করে অপেক্ষা করুন। ছবি আটো ইন্সার্ট হবে।
by Arafath Raihan
“Another day has passed away. Feeling like, the life is still worthless. Money shows the way and the body moves. Long before, I felt my body. But now, standing by a mirror, I find nothing. I can, however, sense a soul-like something beeping inside. It is still childlike, free.
Today, when I was waiting for the lift to home, I heard a soothing, soft, tranquil melody. It was like a “mew-mew” sound. I turned around. Looking down at my feet, I found a cat, a 10-12 days old cat. I sat and couldn’t but touch it, a living earthly beauty. Soft, white fur were sewed through its’ body. It jumped over my lap and tweaked my shirt. I heard something like it was saying, “Look at my eyes & love”. I looked at its’ eyes. Through the two black holes, I saw “peace”. My heart urges me to have it. A moment later, my brain rationale that it should not be done. This earthly life is limited. After a time period it will become old. This appeal will fade away. Then when the ultimate departure will come, what will I do? Can I bear the sorrow? Is the young love leading me to an unavoidable grief? Rather I should left it off. Let it be rise and die outside my sight. That’s how; I will be able to be “sad less” (or happy!?). The result of the epic war between love and reason; later was the winner. So, I tapped the lift switch, it was the old “8”. Before entering into my home, I had a glance over the number plate, yes; it was the same everyday’s “8B”. I was not feeling well. The refrigerator was filled up with foods and drinks. But I found myself filled up with heavy air. So, I could not eat. Let’s now have a sleep with the Pillow and Bed, beneath the restlessly loving Electric Fan. A brand new “Old day” is waiting.”- 08/05/12, 11:30PM.
These all were written in a half burnt diary. A young rescue volunteer of Fire Fighter team read it sitting besides a trashed building. While he was taking his lunch, he read the excerpt. Suddenly he heard a mew-mew sound. It was a tiny cat gazing at his lunch. He gave the rest to it and rushed to his duty. He found the diary in the flat named “8B”. No living was found there.
