Chapter 6: Story begins in Jessore

                                    

                                          
"Life is good," Karim said, at first, as he drove his rickshaw under a sweltering midday sun in Manirampur of Jessore, southern Bangladesh. After a few minutes on the clear, narrow road, he revealed a rather different story when asked about whether he felt peaceful. Mr Muumin Desai, a banker in the bank of Bangladesh, had been overwhelmed in his work and his desire to find peace. "You see baia... The ever stress and pressure from my mother to get married, to pay bills, and to feed my family including my brother and his wife, is taxing on me. My brother has not shown any inklings of earning a decent wage. He just complains all day in our village, not even trying.
The rickshaw driver empathises with Mr Desai. "Sir I must tell you that I too have lost all hope for our society, my son in law had left my daughter, because I couldn't afford to gift him the latest phone. My brothers in higher career positions are demanding there share of our property in the village, these brothers of mine, I've slaved away my entire life so that they can study and become something, so that one day they could give me peace. But no, I am continually being sued by my relatives over land disputes. I have spent all my income for the past 5 years on mitigating court cases. But nothing happens. You know Mr Desai, I feel like I have failed my family, do not make my mistake, of taking care of relatives, because eventually they will fail you.
He you go sir, as they come to stop in front of the Bank. Karim helps Mr Desai take his luggage down off the rickshaw, as the passenger gets off and hands it too him, they exchange taka for change. Karim sets off again proclaiming "life is good".
Few moments down the road with heavy bags of groceries in both hands, Mr Raghuveer Roy. His upright posture gave him a high-ranking officer feel, and his terrifying gaze sent shivers down Karim. "oy Rickshaw driver.. over here!! He barked in loud authoritative tone. Karim went at once. Karim helped load the shopping on to the rickshaw as the buffalo of a man got on. "Take me to the Kishori club".
Shocked Karim started to pedal. In his thoughts he was frightened of the prospect of the place closing down. Saab is everything alright, they didn't insult you did they. He got no reply, Karim traversed the roads towards the buildings further up ahead. Hesitant, but looked for another attempt for a reply, Karim said "sir my daughter goes there, if not for the club I would have been very insecure with my youngest daughters future, I may have had to do the unthinkable, like child marriage. I already ruined my eldest daughters' life like this". Mr Roy, remained quiet, almost pensive like. Karim continued, "the institution has very well had given me a little peace, and a little trust back into our society" still no answer.
After what seemed to be a long cycle through the quiet roads of the countryside. Karim was jerked up, by the sound of Mr Roy speak, "46.7 million Bangladeshis are young, making up about 30% of our entire population. Young people are our greatest strength in creating lasting change. The young women and men engaged in our activities can become champions of peace and prosperity for our country. They need to become aware of their strength and bring out enthusiasm about bringing positive changes.
You see the Kishore club give the chance for women in Bangladesh in all backgrounds to not only be educated , but also educate, despite living in remote parts of Bangladesh, who previously had little to no education. They engage young people through knowledge camps, where they participate in debates, performance, and art. It is a strong medium, to channel their creativity and critical thinking into shaping their understanding of what it takes to build a peaceful, cohesive society.
I have supported the building of these adolescent clubs, to help girls stay in school, creating opportunities for people living in poverty to realise their potential. So far research has shown that these students become more financially literate and communicate more confidently.
Why not send both your girls there. I have supported this institution to be self-sustainable as the funds come from local business that rent the local vicinity. So, money is not taken from students.
Karim in awe, smiles whole heartedly, as tears drip tentatively down his face, for once he felt true unadulterated hope. As he enters the grounds of the institution. He drops off Mr Roy. Mr Roy barks, please wait here, I'll be traveling again, i'll leave the groceries with you till I return". Mr Roy turns and storms into the institution, everyone salaaming and namastaying him as he walks by, and lost into the archway of the building. A young girl spots him outside, a massive smile across her face she tentatively trots up to her father. Both father and daughter, both happily chatting away.
Mr Roy returns out of the archway. At the top of his lungs calls for the rickshaw driver. The young girl, skittishly darts back in doors. That girl, your daughter, is she? I heard that her folk singing and playing the harmonium is rather magical. The music teacher has said that she wants her performing at the boishakhi fair next month".
Sir we are of a poor family we have not the money for her to participate. Our society like most, expect girls to only do chores and raise children, my family will be ostracised if we let her publicly sing. Karim begins to shrink back from the deadly scowl that had just formed. "don't worry I will pay for her entire musical education and participation in this program. You need to take the girl to the music teacher Ms Rabbani's house to learn folk literature. she will make you proud just you watch, and those who try ostracising you will want you amongst them, just you watch.


The Bangladesh new year had arrived. the banners, flags and bandanas of green with the red son were everywhere. The stage was set at the Dhaka auditorium. people laughing praising, throwing coloured dyes in the air. friends clasped hand in hand dancing to the beat of the drums echoing through out the streets. The city was alive!. atmosphere atmosphere of intense joy and jubilation of a brand new year. 
announcements of important authorities arriving to share there words to the people. Bangladesh actors were to share the stage for dance, singing and music. he vibrant colors of Boishakhi fair adorned the Rômna Uddan park, attracting people from all corners of the small town. Arbaz, known for his reserved and composed demeanor, found himself drawn back to the lively celebration where he was scheduled to be the main performer. The contours and musical prowess of the fair were renowned worldwide, and he was honored to be part of the event.
As the day unfolded, the sun cast a warm glow over the festivities. Arbaz prepared for his performance, anticipating the crescendo of his music to resonate through the air in the evening. However, to his surprise, he discovered that an enchanting girl named Aria had been chosen to set the stage for the first act.
Her performance was nothing short of mesmerizing. The beats of traditional drums blended with the melody of her voice, creating an enchanting harmony that echoed through the fairground. Arbaz, watching from the shadows of the auditorium, felt a magnetic pull towards her. What started as an appreciation for her skills soon transformed into a deep fascination.
Unable to resist the allure any longer, Arbaz sought opportunities to be near Aria throughout the day. He attended every performance, captivated by her graceful movements and the melodious notes that seemed to weave a spell around the entire fair. Their encounters extended beyond the stage as they shared conversations backstage, discussing dreams and fears amidst the bustling festivities.
As the day progressed, the chemistry between Arbaz and Aria ignited. The lively atmosphere of Boishakhi seemed to amplify the emotions swirling between them. Romance blossomed in the midst of the vibrant celebration, and Arbaz found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Butterflies of desire fluttered within him, and Aria's laughter became a joyous melody that played in his mind.
Arbaz, typically known for his stoicism, exhibited uncharacteristic behaviors. He yearned for Aria's company, became protective of her amidst the crowds, and experienced a longing when they were apart. In the midst of the lively fair, their connection deepened, and the unspoken language of shared glances and subtle touches spoke volumes.
As the day drew to a close, the realization dawned on Arbaz that love had found him amidst the vibrant celebration of Boishakhi. Their story unfolded like a beautiful symphony, each moment resonating with the harmony of two souls discovering the magic of romance on a single day of joyous festivities.
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