1 Goodbye Grandma

The chest became heavier thinking that I was sitting with a pen and diary in my hand. I knew before that if the chest is heavy

The feeling power is doubled. Writing is also good. The desire to write is long overdue. That is why ghostly, melodramatic, humorous or tragic stories revolve in my head all the time. But I have not yet acquired the ability to implement them manually.

I still remember my cousins ​​sitting on the high floor of my grandmother's mud house one summer afternoon and talking to her. Grandmother's smile was frozen in the story of the joke. In the middle of the conversation, I suddenly became a little embarrassed when my hobby of writing came up. Grandmother sat down to cut the guava with a knife, the old woman lak with us? How many memories did you have to swallow? How many of these do you remember? "Grandma's whims could have been ignored that day, but today, suddenly, under the influence of some unknown emotion, who is trying to mark those memories ... so I am starting from the beginning without any delay ..."


On the third day of Baishakh, in the early morning, I left for Dadabari in the village in a pick-up truck rented by my father with my family. Dad is driving. Mother is sitting in the seat next to him

My younger sister Millie and I are sitting in the back seat. All items are tied to the back of the truck with ropes.

The pick-up truck has left the city and started moving on the highway. The morning sun is shining through the window glass. Feeling a slight warmth in the air through the window glass. As soon as we got off the highway and entered the village market, the people in the market started looking at us with smiling faces. Seeing so many people in the market, it seems that there is another small world in the world where the corona has not been touched yet. No one has a mask on their face but they are covered with cheeks. The truck started moving along the village road. Leaving green fields, fields and plants next to it, he is moving forward. I opened the mask in front of the window and smelled the smell of rice and straw. As soon as he came in front of the house, his father blew his horn. Immediately grandmother and little uncle ran out of the house.

The younger uncle came forward to help Dad unload the luggage. Mother entered the house talking to her grandmother with the big luggage in her hand. I took the small bag in my hand and looked at the one and a half hundred year old bot tree in front of the house and dived deep into a thought.

This is not the first time we have come here like this. Twice before, my father has come back here after packing everything in the city. The first time was before I was born in 1998. The second time was in 2013 when I was 15 years old and 6 ml. Coincidentally, the previous two were back in the summer. In town, my father used to support us by running a tong shop on the sidewalk. Today is the third time that Corona has surrendered and come back here forever. Dad said that once the corona outbreak was over, I would go to a hostel in the city and finish my honors. Millie will be admitted to the village school. From now on, we will have a permanent home to guard this banyan tree. When the cloud of these thoughts cleared, I noticed that Mili was shouting through the window of her aunt's house and calling me inside.


To the east and north of the large open yard are the two paved houses of the younger uncle and father respectively. The earthen house in the south is the grandmother's house and the barn is in the west.

The look of our house has changed a lot since we came here. The house is filled with all the things of a rented house in the city. I used to sleep with my grandmother when I used to come on two Eid holidays. But now I have a separate stool in my room. In fact, the joy of sleeping with my grandmother was different.


A few days after coming here, my father and younger uncle were sitting at the door of our house eating watermelon and talking.

Dad. See if you can find work in a Hindu home.

Little uncle. "But many of them work in almost all their lands. I don't think they will get kaiz."

Dad. "So what if you run a shop next to Uncle Hasan's High School?"

Little uncle. "It would have been better to take the land than that."

Dad "Let's make a decision by contacting the association."

I was sitting at the door listening to them.

Everyone is leaving the city for Corona and returning to the village. Unemployment is rising in the villages. Even then, everyone is returning to their homes with the hope of survival.


10-12 days have passed without coming to mind. Of these, Kalbaishakhi storm has occurred almost every afternoon. I woke up almost in the morning and went to the mango orchard with my aunt to pick mangoes.

One night in the light of the hurricane, I was sitting on the bench in my grandmother's house and talking to her. I could feel the cold wind blowing through the wooden windows. Suddenly Grandma pulled out a tin box from under the stool. He took a photo out of the box and folded it in both my hands and said, "You are my first granddaughter. I gave it to you. Take care of it."

The black and white photo taken in the eighties has turned yellow. In the picture, grandfather is sitting on grandfather's lap and little uncle is sitting on grandmother's lap. Dad and little uncle wearing shorts and shirt. Then Dad is not old and uncle will be 6. In the photo, there is a different seriousness hidden in the face of grandfather wearing glasses. Grandma had a serious look on her young face and now her gray-brown folded cheeks were spreading Maya like a child. In this way I was happy to get a chance to see my father's childhood look. Grandmother told the story behind the photo, "Looking at the photo of Chowdhury on the beach next door, what is the point of the big boy ... If your grandfather forbade the boy to stop eating, then go to Muslim's photo shop the next day to take this photo." That night, when she heard the childhood stories of her father and younger uncle from her grandmother, she burst into tears. Before going to sleep at night, when I finished reading Manik Gangopadhyay's mother, I put the photo inside the book. I put the book next to the pillow and turned off the hurricane light.


One day at noon on the bank of the pond, I went to take a bath with my grandmother and Syeda Bubu of the next house.

Suddenly, when I was going down the stairs and slipping on the stairs, Syeda Bubu grabbed my hand and said,

Grandmother, "Amag's old woman will learn everything in a few days." Many people gather in the village to take a bath by the pond. Everyone tells the story of everyone's world.

Khushi aunty took a dip and said, "Where is Monir's father in law today. So my mother-in-law said I will cook Monig's food tonight." Bakul Kaki was waving soap on her body, "It's been a long time since Hasid's school was closed .... I can't even keep her at home in Mai. She wanders here and there.

Mamta's uncle said to Bakul Kaki while washing his clothes, "I heard that your brother-in-law is married to Mai ... will it be better to keep Mai at home for a few more days?"

Grandmother said with a mug of water in her hand, "The old woman is getting married until she gets a job."

Khushi Khala laughed, "How different is the old woman. Will you get a job after studying in the city? Manik is doing his master's degree in primary school ..."

In this way, listening to their daily conversations by the side of this pond works differently.


One afternoon, Grandmother, mother, little aunt and Jyoti aunty were talking in the shade of a tree in the yard.

As soon as I came and sat next to my grandmother, my aunt Jyoti said, "Bhagjis was coming. If I had stayed in the city, I would not have been here for so long."

I Don't say that? Corona can happen here too. "

The little aunt drank the lime and said, "It won't be that Corona Torona in the minus of Buri village. We are the people working in the field."

I understood that Karona could not subdue the people of the villages of Bangladesh any more.


It will be before Ramadan in the middle of Boishakh, one day I saw my little aunt drying mango pickle in the sun in the yard. As I approached, he said, "Kiri buri achar khabi naki?"

"Yes, give it."

"Come in, come in."

In my aunt's kitchen, next to the mitsef, there is a shelf full of different colored pickles. Seeing this and not being able to control the greed, I asked my aunt to give me a pickle of yellow mutki.

A couple of days after the aunt prepared the new pickle

Aunt Khichuri was invited at noon. Everyone sat down in the dining room. Grandmother and father sat at the door with two pedis. Grandma and Dad argued about my marriage while eating khichri.

Dad. I will marry her only if she passes her honors.

Grandmother protested, "No, Amag's Maya will not work?

Listening to my grandmother's words that day, it seemed that the thinking of the people in the village was also much improved.


Two or three days before the start of Ramadan, in the afternoon, I was walking along the sidewalk with Millie. Suddenly Helal Bhai came forward on a bicycle from behind and said, "Ki re Paulin ... kabe eli re?" Helal Bhai is the only good student in the neighborhood who is a philosophy student of Dhaka University and the youngest son of Karim uncle who owns a grocery store in the neighborhood who dreams of becoming a BCS cadre all day long.

I "It's been a while. Your varsity is closed ..."

Helal brother. "I came home a day after it was closed. I don't understand the people of the village, Paulin? Hahaha ....."

I "Hmm ... so I see that's why you came from the high school playground?"

Helal. "And Balisana is said to be a village boy. If I don't play, I don't remember."

I ".... So you finished the honors final, you got the result. You don't have to worry anymore ...?"

Helal. "What can I say ... if it weren't for Corona, my BCS would have become a plenary by now."

I said a little mischievously, "What's the matter, uncle's shop is there."

Helal's brother laughed, "Pauline, you are no longer in the habit of following me. What's up, Millie?

Ml. "Yes. Brother is good."

Helal put his hand on Brother Millie's head and said, "How young he was ... I heard Uncle will never return to town?"

I "Yes. I will finish honors from the hostel. And Millie will be admitted to a school here."

Helal. "Then it would be better to get Manik's uncle admitted to high school."

I "We think so too."

Helal. "Asis then at our house ..." Helal Bhai cycled towards the market.


A week after the start of the fast, sitting in the yard, my grandmother and Syeda Bubu of the next house are talking.

Syeda Bubu. "Eyes Iftar with Chhola Muri in Karban"

I "We'll have gram flour here today too."

Syeda Bubu. "If khichuri and murti, there is no iftar in the minus of Amag Giram."

I said, "Well, Bubu, am I soaking the gram?"

Bubu. "Bring it on ..."

I heard it when I came back with the jam.

Bubu. "Marry the old woman as soon as you have time, otherwise the situation will not be like mine."

Grandma. "Isn't it because of your age?"

Bubu. "Did I say that aunty? Mayago may have gotten married at that age. If you don't see that day, Bakul's brother-in-law's daughter Jamila got married ..... He got married in that good family. The boy works in a company ..

Grandmother got angry and said, "Will you shut up? I will see Amag's old lady in the city and marry her.

I stood with a basket of berries and listened to them.


In the middle of Jaistha, I got the news that Chowdhury's uncle had died on the beach next door. Dad forbade everyone in the house to face the house. But Grandma disobeyed.

A day later, when Grandma's fever, sore throat, and cough started, Dad took care of Grandma and forbade all of us to go to Grandma. He told everyone to keep his grandmother's illness a secret.

Grandparents used to bring food, water and medicine to the door of the house. After four or five days, the condition of the grandmother's body started getting worse. When he started to have difficulty breathing, he came to the door and said, will he show me the big baby doctor? Chest pain ...

Eid is over ... everyone sat in the yard. Dad decided, "There is no need to take me to the hospital at this time."

So the decision to take the grandmother to the hospital was postponed. I saw my grandmother through the window.

I never thought I would see my grandmother like this one day.


Today, on the 28th day of the month of Jaistha, he fought with Corona for 10-12 days and breathed his last. Grandmother was buried in the pond behind the south house or next to it. Dad and younger uncle finished burying grandmother and came to stay in the quarantine at grandmother's house.

I can't say for sure .... as far as I know this summer we came back to say goodbye to him. So I named the story "Farewell Summer".