Turning-point of season

০৩ রা মার্চ, ২০১৬ সকাল ১১:২৯

My mother suddenly decided to wash all of warm cloths; therefore, she is in washroom till morning. She is washing blankets and sweaters, and the apple of my mother’s eye Lily, my elder sister obeying her order. She has gone on the roof for letting dry the clothing, when I go there I see she is petting the mattresses as if she is doing most honorable job in this world. As my mother has a notion, is that, the heat of the sun of late winter keeps cloths safe throughout the whole year. She also puts naphthalene and dried neem leaves in the lap of cloths and every corner of house in order to protect them from insects and bad odor.
Jony, my little brother, reads in class six; usually he peeps on the roof whenever he gets chance. Few month ago when I was taking him to school, the sun was rising from lethargic sleep and the fog sat on my nose covering my eyes. Suddenly Jony left my hand went off at a corner beside an old man, who might not sleep last night, he might warm up by fire that was gathered by same person. There was a little pigeon behind that person, shivering with cold, it was almost moribund. Jony picked it, told me: “I will call him sky “and rushed out to home;
I shouted, “Stop! Stop! Jony. Mother will scold you, Wait.”
“He will surely beat up, partly because of his absence at school, partly because of his mastery for saving wretch’s life” I said myself.
But could not have stopped by himself, the winter gave him a fuel to win in the Marathon race, eventually he reached at home by panting. When I arrived home I saw mother had already taken him into room. The door was looked by this time; a little obliged smile was on Lily’s mouth.
The benevolence Jony was recognized in last summer, a couple of month before, on a gloomy evening. Electricity had gone; we were reading in candle light, Father and Mother wanted to reduce heat with their punk, which was moving like windmill. A brunch of mosquito was buzzing over our head; the salty water was sliding from my line of hair through my chest to navel side before vaporizing. A mosquito sat on my left hand and put its string to suck my blood, when blood almost went through its vessel, my nerve agitated. I was going to smash it, Jony raised his voice; “Don’t”
Father replied, “Do you want to be sucked by the little creature.”
Jony cried out, “If mosquito would not bite us, the word mosquito would not exist.”
The whispering of mosquito may be not quieted on the time but swelling of heat then was lower down by his mild voice.
By the end of this winter Jony has grown a warm relationship with sky, all the time he spends time with him as if the cold of winter go away from him by the hatch of sky. He warms up by giving mild heat, he feeds him on his own hand, and hiding from mother’s eye he takes money for buying pigeon’s food and cage. Since yesterday Jony has been shivering by 104 temperature fever. Sky is almost six months but he neither can fly nor can walk properly. He has gone hurt his leg, Jony tried many time to cure him. Today morning Jony was upset, asks me “Sis I wish once I could fly with sky”. Suddenly I feel a heavenly love for these two pets.
Once Jony came to me and requested to me, “Sis could you please upload one selfie of mine with sky”
“Certainly.”
“Oh, please write a comment”.
Jony was going but coming back and said “please add this to pray for my sky, if sky will be cured I will give all my pennies which I have collected my on piggy bank”.
In the afternoon due to the sudden change of weather I sometimes switched on fan, sometimes switched off it. I take Jony on the roof so that he could feel better, besides we could feed sky. When I go to the cage and open I scream, “Jo..Jo...Jonu!”
Since Jony has having a fever, he is walking slowly and comes to me. Its intestine is scattered everywhere, its head is twisted, is seems to me a black witch who has taken his life.
“It must be a crow” I said.
After seeing that Jony says nothing just slightly utters “Ah!”
I thought Jony will yell, cry and be skittish. But he comes down and closes the door of his room, which never open. Winter has gone for good.

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