The tree which he used to sit under, near his village.
The day is Thursday and he is working at the present time. He started work early in the morning, from 9am, then finished at 5pm. The time now is 6:15pm and he is in again, but at his second job. You may be wondering the about the reason why he is working at two places. Well, he has a few hours to tell you a little bit about himself.
He is standing next to the silver tray, leaning his body against the wall, with one leg folded accross the other, while he types this literature on his mobile phone. The restaurant is empty, and it is usually quiet on Thursdays. To start, he will have to go back to his first few memories from when he was in Bangladesh. He has a very poor short term memory, but cannot forget some special memories of his mother. She pulled him into a very dimly lit room, in their old small tinned roof house. Reaching up to a shelf in the corner of the dark room, she picked up a yellow, red and white tin, as he stood there in anticipation to see what was in store for him, as he did not have a clue. As she opened the tin, the sweet aroma got him excited, and to his surprise it was a tin of powder milk, his favourite! Scooping his hand together, he held them up and his mother took a spoonfull, placing it in his hands. He remembers the taste, so powder fine and sweet smooth, melting in his mouth.
One other special memory was of his mother again, when she used to pull him into the same dimly lit room, was when she used to peel him a banana to eat. What he could not understand was, at the time, why she used to give him things to eat secretly, and in that dark room.
She passed away when he was five years old, and he did not know or understand the reason why or how.
After he became an adult, he used to always contemplate the reasons behind her death. Deciding for himself that she may have died from pregnancy, and the death of the foetus in her womb, he received confirmation from his grandmother that was what actually happened. He remmembers his mother as a woman who everyone respected, loved and cared for, which she gave back in return to the small village community they were residing in. Concerning his mother's death, he was very confused as to what happened and how to react to the situation. He remembers his little brother and elder sister crying their eyes out, while he was sitting next to her dead body laying next to the pavement of the house, with alot of people surrounding them. Confused, lost and emotionless, he sat there, with his mouth shut, looking at his father trying not to cry. He does admit, since that day, he must have cried for her nearly every day, every night, in bed and even while in his sleep.
One night, he couldn't sleep, his aunty and his cousin where fast asleep next to him, on the floor with a blanket underneath them, as it was a very warm nigt. The door of the room they were sleeping in was wide open, and that door led to the next bedroom. He popped his head up to try and get a glimpse of who was sleeping in that bed, and he saw his mother, father, brother and sister asleep close to one another. This made him feel very jealous and also confused. What he couldn't understand was what was he doing sleeping with his aunty and cousin when his mother, father, brother and sister where sleeping together in another bed. This was the first time he decided to think about it, but he could not come up with any answers. He used to sleep nwith them every night since he could remember. Right now though, he knows exactly why all this was happening and the reason behind it all sometimes makes him feel angry.
To be continued....
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An image of a villag in Bangladesh
Some books about Bangladesh
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