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fiction

Loneliness
***Together they rode a rickshaw to their school, which was nearby. The rickshaw puller was known to them. He often brought them to school. The fat, matronly ayah was very fond of them. She helped them get down and took their bags. On the way, Mazharul had asked him,’ Grandson of Lord Buddha, won’t you speak? What are you thinking of? 'Nothing,’ he had answered with an uncomfortable smile. He had been thinking of his friend’s sister. 'I don’t have sister. I don’t have a brother. How lucky is this Mazharul!’***
by Junaidul Haque
WHEN he reacheci Mazharul's house, he found the gate wide open. He was going to call his friend aloud when he noticed his elder sister. She was sitting on the verandah. Yes. on the floor, as a little girl would, with her legs swinging to and fro. He felt uneasy and tried to smile. She. too. was smiling. He had seen her before but had never talked to her. He had seen her husband, too. A tall, handsome young man with a moustache. Look', he said to himself, how beautiful she looks’ And she is always smillngl She has the best smile tn the world.’
She smiled in an elder sisterly manner. ‘Come in!’ He hesitated. He felt nervous. His cheeks went red. But when she beckoned again, he walked to her. She made him sit by her side. She turned his face towards her and said.’ You are Babul s best pal. aren’t you? 1 have heard of you a lot. He Is upstairs. He will come down soon. Meanwhile, let us gossip.’ He nodded to show his approval.
He was no longer bashful. He found much pleasure in answering her questions. "How old are you? Ten? Nine? He smiled. T am eight. Babul is six months older than me.’ Oh. 1 see. But you are taller. You almost look like a young man.’ She sweetly teased him. And you are very shy.’
They went on talking, Mazharul appeared after a while. ‘Come again.’ She gave her marvellous smile again, holding his chin with her hand. Before gomg out of sight he looked back to see her. Her winsome smile was yet to disappear. ‘Oh. if only 1 could stay with her for a few more minutes’, he thought. He envied Mazharul.
Together they rode a rickshaw to their school, which was nearby. The rickshaw puller was known to them. He often brought them to school. The fat. matronly ayah was, ver^ fond of them. She helped them get down and took their bags. On the way. Mazharul had asked him,’ Grandson of I ^d Buddha, won’t you speak? Whai you thinking of? Nothing.’ he ’ swered with an uncomfortab
He had been thinking of his .. .^nu s sister. ‘I don’t have sister. I don't have a brother. How lucky is this Mazharul!'
They were about to enter the classroom when Sufia and Fahmida intercepted him. Do you know who stood first? You must feed us today.’ He felt happy and relieved. The news was. however, not unexpected. He would always come first but would always feel very nervous before the results. He gave a modest smile. Who stood second?’ I . said Sufia. She was senior to him in age and always behaved affectionately.
His seat was on the second bench. The first bench was for the girls. Hu-maera was there right in front of him. She always sat there. Why isn’t she congratulating me?' She was not like the other girls. Extremely charming.
her spectacles gave her the grace of a miniature grown up person. Very fair, very sweet with lovely hair and marvellous eyes. Very sober and affectionate. She never talked too much like her friends, never quarreled and was very amiable. He liked her very much. He simply adored her. She is not even looking behind talking with that hopeless Meherun.’ he thought a little angrily.
Madam came in. She announced that the report cards would be given the next day. She exchanged a smiling look with him. He knew what she meant-congratulatlons! She started writing on the blackboard.
He could not find nis ruler. He thought of asking for Humaera's but she was busy doing her sums. He touched her shoulder and said. Lend me your ruler.' Humaera looked back. And there it was, what he longed for... her characteristic cute smile. He smiled back and repeated. Your ruler. Why were you absent yesterday?’
During the tiffin period he went to the field but did not play. He never did. His role was that of a spectator. He had his light lunch. Mazharul and Wasek were busy playing cricket. After a while he returned upstairs. Suddenly he noticed Madam Elsie. She was calling him. He entered the teachers' room. She was always very affectionate to him. She talked about his result and many other things. As one of her friends entered, she smilingly said. Achcha aesho! He dashed towards the classroom. Madam Elsie was perhaps older than his own mother but was a spinster. He liked her a lot.
Humaera was there. Alone. She smiled as usual Come here!’ But he hesitated. She was eating her lunch. ‘Come!' she said, with an air of seriousness.
She was standing with her right el-bow on a bench. He sat on a high bench opposite her. He felt uneasy. He looked at her nicely cut hair. Ilumm.... help yourself. He reddened io his ears. You see I don't feel like eating now.’ She gave a surprised look and then laughed. She understood ev-erythlng. Take it, boy. It's only a slice of bread.’
They went on talking. She said. You know. I was hoping to come first
Ihi'' lime. Mother had promised me a trip to Darjeeling.’ She stopped and looking into his eyes, smiled. ‘You have robbed me of my trip. You arc really merciless”. She smiled again but he could only look at her in bewilderment. Didn’t her eyes look sad when she said that? Why didn’t she tell me before? I could do anything for her!’ It made him feel sad.
“What are you thinking of? Let’s go and drink water.’ She took his hand.’ Are you angry with me? 1 didn't wish to hurt you', she said in an explanatory tone. No, no. I was thinking of something else.' They went out of the room.
The last bell rang at 4 p.m. He and Mazharul took a rickshaw. Ustad Pedro (the name was given to Tanvir by Madame Elsie), Masood and Nu-runnabi resided nearby. Fahmida, Sufia and Humaera had their respective cars. As their rickshaw started moving he heard someone calling him from behind. He looked back. It was Humaera. 'We can give you a lift. Why don't you ’ She didn't finish her sentence but stared at him. He exchanged a quick look with Mazharul and then, turning back, told her in a condolatory tone. ‘Another day, okay? She made a motion of her head which he read as 'achcha'. Her elder brother Arif was with her. Arif was in Class III. too.
It was his habit to watch everything on the road. He looked at the busy pedestrians, the cars passing by, the posters and the food shops. He looked at the boys playing in the field. As the rickshaw approached his house, he suddenly remembered that his mother was not there to receive him. His parents had left the day before for their village home. His grandmother had been seriously ill. His uncle and kind-hearted cook Batu Bhal had remained. Is uncle back from the university?', he asked himself.
As he got down he suddenly remembered the face of Mazharul's sister.... and everything that had happened in the morning. T shall again go to his house tomorrow to pick him up.’ he thought.
He had some biscuits and a piece of cake. He then climbed the stairs to the roof. Batu Bhai Joined him. Unlike other days they did not start chatting.
He looked at the sky. the hlghrlse flats, the distant trees. Soon he forgot everything that had happened till then. He stared at the northeast, the direction of their village home. 125 kilometres away! If only he could fly like the birds!. Why didn't his mother take him with her? He liked the village more than anything else. Twice In the year, during school holidays, he would go to the village and spend a few days. He was very fond of his grandmothers. 'Cities are so boring!.’ he thought. 1 miss the beauty of the green fields and the shady woods of the country. Ah! The lovely ponds, the Innocent village boys and girls, the romance of tramping over the fields on calm middays! He could see so many faces in his mind's eye. He even missed his favourite trees — the round mango tree near the beel. the lichl tree and the guava tree he had himself planted a few years back. And he saw the face of his mother. So. I am sleeping alone for the first time In my life.’ He missed his mother terribly. In the morning, he had been thinking of writing a letter to her. No. I won't write. 1 can very well stay alone.' But his lips trembled. His hands went to his eyes. Suddenly be became cous-cious of Batu's presence. Batu Bhal was thirtylsh. He was also gazing skywards. May be he also missed his wife and their little daughter.
His uncle did not return even after dusk. He sat at his table and tried to do his homework. Batu was in the kitchen. He sat dejected, thinking of a thousand and one things . Suddenly he remembered Humaera. What is she doing now? If only she were here! I wouldn't then be so sad. No one can remain unsmiling in front of her. Arif is quite lucky and so is Mazharul. But here I am sitting alone, with none for company, if 1 were Arif,.. .. and Humaera was my sister! 'he started dreaming. A faint smile played about his lips.
Even yesterday he would dream of an elder brother. Or a younger one. But today he longed for sisters. Brothers are never kind. Mushfiqur's brothers are always fighting with him. I can't bear such a life!'
Batu Bhai came to sleep in his room after supper. His uncle has directed Batu to do so. After making his own bed. Batu Bhai switched off the light. I see you are still awake,’ Batu tried to start a conversation. But he was not interested and turned his face towards the wall. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind. For the first time in his life he felt lonely, terribly lonely. “My mother.... what is she doing now? Is she thinking of me, too? Oh. why didn't she Jake me along with her?’ His eyes filled with tears. He hid his face in the pillow. But he was aware of Batu's presence and swallowed his impulse to cry. And then the whole of his little frame started shaking intermittently.