The capital of Iraq is Baghdad. This city in the Middle East has a long history of Islam. However, I will not highlight any Islamic history today. Today I will tell a beautiful story of a pious girl in this city. The story is-
There was a pious girl in the city of Baghdad, who was always engaged in prayers, fasting, and recitation of the Qur’an from an early age. In this way, the girl grew up at one time. One day the girl’s parents asked her to consent to the marriage, and she agreed. His parents fixed a righteous pot. Then the wedding day was fixed. All the arrangements for the wedding have been completed as usual. The girl was dressed as a bride.
Meanwhile, the call to prayer was made, the girl got up from the meeting and went to offer prayers. Relatives all began to say, hey what are you doing? Right now the bridegroom will come, your outfit will be ruined, what will you say if you see the bridegroom in this condition? The daughter replied, I do not fear anyone but Allah, whatever Allah will do for my good. I can’t disobey God’s command for what anyone says.
Then the girl went to pray. After a while the girl is not coming. Then the girl’s mother went to see her in the prayer room. The mother saw the girl still prostrating. Seeing the delay in getting up from prostration, the mother looked at her daughter’s body with her hands. The girl went after the mother to give her hand. It remains to be seen whether the girl died. Inna Lillahi and Inna Ilahi Raziun.
What a beautiful death. What could be better than death in the state of prostration in the court of God? The dignity of a martyr if he dies while praying. This beautiful story is taken from the book ‘Teachings of Quran and Hadith’.
The boy had no dreams. I know, maybe there was! But I never saw the light of dreams in his eyes. Every moment I look at the thin and black boy, I see only some suffering, drowning in hunger and deprivation. Whose appearance was never sad, there was a smile.
I have not been in Dhaka for a long time, I have studied abroad. Now I am working in Dhaka. To return to my own country. That is who I am. On the bus, on the train, in the car or on the rickshaw, it’s my habit to stare. I keep seeing, people, their work, plants… everything, everything. I drive to the office every day. 8.30 am I get stuck on a signal on a regular basis. Now it has become a habit to stop there occasionally for fifteen minutes, sometimes more. Monday morning three months ago was no different. I was humming a song in my mind, tuneless. Suddenly I was startled by the knocking sound, I was also quite annoyed. I lowered the glass and saw an innocent face, as if crying, a boy. He picked up some beautiful roses and said, ‘Sir, take flowers, flowers? It’s fresh, will you? ‘I was going down the window to say no. The boy was holding the window and saying, ‘No, sir, I could have eaten if I had two rupees, no, sir.’ . Silently I lifted the window glass, the signal turned green. Arrived, my destiny is jail, my workplace. I never get a chance to think about anything every day, I still don’t get it. Return to that house at the end of the day. I was talking to myself anxiously as I climbed the stairs. I was telling myself, how lonely I am, how meaningless my life is. I have always been away from my family, I am still doing that. Why? I don’t know the answer, I live alone, voluntarily. But I feel lonely, and I like it, not that I do. Yet I live alone. I don’t know why. I never got an answer from my complex mind. I don’t know if I will get it even today, useless questions reached me in front of the door of the house. Nothing happened today, just like every day, everything is empty. I was lying down with my eyes closed and suddenly I saw two innocent eyes of that boy. Why did I behave unnecessarily badly? It’s not his fault, that’s his job. We all return by ferry. Some little flowers, some something else. I myself am a peddler of some feelings.
I fell asleep, the alarm clock must have been burning violently. Otherwise, why the cruelty of attacking so deep sleep? I got up and got ready quickly, there is an office. That signal, me again. I laughed as soon as I knocked, everything in my life is like that, the obstacle, whatever happens, it happens, endlessly. I opened the window and saw the boy, he was shocked to see me, he was leaving. I called him, turned around and said, ‘Ducksen sir ??’
– Hmmm, what’s your name?
‘What do you do with a name, sir?
Get flowers ?? ‘
I handed him a hundred rupees and said, “Say the name now?”
How many flowers do I have, sir? ‘
I said, ‘I don’t need flowers.’ ‘Will you take it back?’
I said, ‘Keep it, well, you go now. Chhakku got lost in the middle of the crowd. Her joy was touching me too. I spent the day feeling a bit happy, a little different.
Today I am not stuck there, I did not remember a six at all. I was busy with my intentional life. Two days later, excited thump-thump in the window, six !! ‘Kiri, how are you ?!’ ‘I’m fine sir, are you all right?’ I nodded and said, what do you want?
‘Something, sir, I ate rice on that day except for the fair day with the help you gave me. It’s time.
I used to meet him from time to time, sometimes I would pay something, sometimes I would not. We had a strange relationship with each other. On the way to the office, my family once became that little, smiling boy. One day he asked me, ‘You don’t survive much, sir?’ I said, ‘Damn, I am a very ordinary person.’ He says, Sir, ‘You are a very good man.’ I say goodbye to him and cry in my mind, I tell myself, if Chhakku’s words were true !! Everyone has moved away from me, friends, family. Maybe… ..I couldn’t have been better. I sighed and thought, maybe… .not them, I just wrapped myself up রেখে. Maybe these. Maybe these are unresolved.
Anyway, on the way to the office, one day I thought I would buy flowers today. I have never taken flowers from Chhakkur, I will buy all of them today. I was stuck at the signal, twenty minutes, no, there was no knock on the glass of my car that day. I grew up earlier. I waited a few more days later, hoping to buy flowers, at that signal. But no, he doesn’t come anymore. I used to suffer without seeing him week after week. I thought, maybe the tap will fall again. But not really six. I have never seen her innocent face, pure honey smile for some money. He never asked, ‘Sir, how are you?’
Now I am married. The only complaint of the wife after marriage, I never brought flowers for her. I replied, “I don’t get good flowers.”
I want to buy six flowers, I’ve been looking for him a lot, I’ve never found one. Even today I am waiting for him, at that signal ..
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