Chapter 21: The Version of you

                                    

                                          
As I see my elder whom I have looked up to, our days in cultured land, was one of meditative bliss from the rushing of life, that is the metropolitan city of Dhaka. We would take walks amongst the forest leaves, lie together listening to stories as the kaleidoscopic night sky showered us with its mysteries twinkling smile and its rare flourishes of light. Our endless playfulness till my mother finds us in silent sleep atop of our home. I ponder why life could be so cruel to me, who sort for a glimpse of that time to return to me once in my entire life, only to see this. The strict opposite.
I heard tales of my young father and mother, unfortunately I was to young then, when I was but a toddler, what they called me the natkat nandlal, I would hear stories from my elder cousins of our small village who during there breaks would come back to the village from the city, talk about him often. My admiration of my hero grew extraordinary. I couldn't wait, to see my lord of the universe's human manifest. Such precious site when he returns from the city, working endlessly often skipping the few breaks he gets.
I finally got to the meaningful age to enjoy his side of life, however life is not the honey love we all desire, and my mother passed. My hero was no longer there. Though his body was here, his heart filled soul was called away never to return, beyond the stars, too far for these week legs to get to, nor wings capable to fly, nor the magical eye's to see past the endless sky to where my mother and father souls are.
I learnt a lot at a young age, although I had my degree in medicine, specialising in the heart, only looked for the almighty joy it would bring my father. I pestered my elders to re-imagine the past times they had together with my father.
Beautiful days they would end as there eye's glimmered over with mirth, and doting. But one such a story brought tears to my eye's and feeling of frustration, and judgment. 
A dear friend of his had not shared morsels of food with him stuck upon a tree, both sheltered from enemy army. Although both were hungry. My site reddened, and darted this way and that, too seek the culprit. He too was no where to be found. It was later explained that the dear friend had gone back to his abode, for his loss of his father. At such a young age, he was now the bread winner, of the family. Going door to door, as a young sales person, almost as if he was asking for alms. Krishan looks on as his father gives him the cold shoulder, mentally acknowledging those days have gone and this has come to this conclusion, of family ostracization. 

As I grab my coffee in the morning from the Dhaka Bushundara Starbucks. I notice a little writing on the cup. What at first I assumed would be a Bastardisation of my name, it turned out to be a smiley face with a phone number. 
Oh how I was flattered, as I winked to myself. My day although just began, sent me smiling. 
Unfortunately that was short lived, as pushing my way past the rimes of paper and photocopier that placed in the corridor, mind you an awful location in an office. 
I hobble past two ladies, with tall legs and slim miniskirts. These two could be on the front cover on Vogue magazine. But to slip past them was a nightmare, there just wasn't any room in the office. I would prefer to go unnoticed, but the annoyed looks they give, is irritating. 
A friend of mine sat beside my desk, looking almost too cheery, although a lovely person, my inner demons wish to squish her cheeks. The head-scarf emphasising her shimmery round cheeks and below 5 foot stature.  
I sit in this old run down office, with the old notice stuck on the cork board, with the count down to refurbish, that has well past the due date, possibly indefinitely. 
The carpets on the floor pulled in the corner. A coffee stain that's been festering overtime. The ceiling polystyrene plates, damaged, chewed up and the constant fear of a major leaks, as the water stain patch in ceiling has almost spread to her desk, which is in the opposite end of the office. 
The door to the office bangs open, those of us inside jump, and those standing dash to their desk. The onslaught of shouting ensues. 
The manager, screams down the phone. Already disheveled hair, creased tan brown colour suit. Immediately targeting the man, that for some ungodly reason his desk just happens to be the 1st to be seen as you enter. The slander could be heard for miles as the poor man, confused to what he had done. Had report's thrown at his face. Those documents was not his, yet he was targeted. The humiliation just piled on. Could the blame actually be mine I thought as anxiety, gripped my spine with its cold hands. I shrink back in to my chair. The manager, looked disgusted, and sent the man home, the outburst was distasteful, and what's worst, was that his pay for the month was deducted. Looking unsure if that was possible. 
The Manager stormed straight into his separate office. with slamming the door, making puffs of dust possibly asbestos fill the office. I look to my friends tea, now covered in the flakes. I thank that my coffee cup was covered. 
Beside my computer there sat a picture of Rudra and Krishan with me in Cox's Bazar beach. The times I've been to the seafront was magical blue sea with the whitish sand in the picture. 
I dream of the day I pass through Cox's bazar again, but the piles of forms and documents left beside the keyboard ruined that desire. I take a shallow breath, and begin the days grind. 
The day was over. Me and my friend Sat chatting outside the office, just bickering about our manager and workload., that never seems to end, and conditions we are sitting in. 
"literally we may as well be sitting in a dump somewhere, It stinks. Getting home I always tell my child to stay away from me until I shower. How long are we going to stay like this". Why hasn't anyone said anything to Mrs Chattergy? irritatedly said Shreya, Checking her phone for any calls or messages.
 A message from Arbaaz, 
"Hey "

Realising it's been a few years since we spoke. 
My friend trying to grab my attention "earth to Shreya!" were you lost, and what's with that bright smile" I didn't realise it at the time but my world got a lot brighter.