ভাইফোঁটা

- তোমাকে ফোঁটা দিলে তুমি কি দেবে?

- কিচ্ছু না...

- সেকি কেন?

A Loss called Home

It has been a long day today - she thought in her mind - waving her hand mindlessly in the direction of the stray autos that whizzed her past on the highway. Some had passengers, some went empty, some didn't want to take one as they announced their close of day to themselves. Close of day it was, as the hand of the watch crossed eight and steadily moved closer to nine as did the colour of the sky, from dark to darker. 

It indeed was one of those days that she couldn't wait to go home.

As with every regular day, she finally had her turn of luck with transport after the usually long and impatient wait-time, and cutting through the ruthless traffic and the foul traffickers of the city, she finally reached in front of their community gate and heaved a sigh of relief.

Home, ah! Home. Finally.

My “Room”

Now I know - it’s consistent. The hallucination bit.

Last time when I was put to sleep, medically, I had had a strange experience. Strange - in lack of a better word. Strange - to make it brief. Strange - to not confuse myself again, perhaps.

Yes, it was the time I gave birth. The first time I was put to sleep, medically.

Shubho Bijoya!

- Not done!

- Why?

- Well, you know!

- What?

- Why can't I do the kolakuli I want most?

- Do!

- What rights do I have?

- I grant you the right.

- And for how long?

- Until you want to free yourself.

- Sigh.

- What?

- Well, that's for me. And for you?

- Grant me the right.

- I do.

- What?

- I grant you all the right that I have left with myself.

- Shubho Bijoya.

- Shubho Bijoya, dearest.