A Tale of Three Children
Shounak Reza
Dont keep the potatoes and the onions on the same rack, Jasmine gently advises the little girl. The girl is around 10 years old, a few years younger than Jasmines own daughter. The little girl nods, and with her feeble hands, puts the onions on the rack above the one where the potatoes are stored.
Youre learning quickly, Beauty, smiles Jasmine.
Beauty, perhaps amazed at how fast she was learning household chores, smiles at herself. She starts peeling potatoes. She thinks of her home town, Bogra.
Back home, her little brother is probably pestering their mother, who is likely cooking a small amount of rice she has managed to buy with the little money they had. Beauty thinks of the wonderful lunch she had yesterday afternoon. Rice and freshly cooked vegetables. Back home, her parents and her brother could never think of a meal as lavish as that. Their family income was so meagre that Beauty was forced to leave school and come to Dhaka for work, sending home whatever little money she earned to her family.
Jasmine, on the other hand, was thinking of her daughter. The next time she goes to Netrokona, she will cook some chicken for her daughter, she thought. Jasmine felt the overwhelming satisfaction of hugging her daughter again, feeding her with her own hands, discussing her lessons, and so on. She had been doing very well in school. Jasmine was proud of her little girl.
What are you thinking of, Khala (aunt)? Beauty asks her. She had been watching Jasmine intently.
Nothing, my dear, Jasmine replies. She hastily wipes away the tears trickling down her cheeks. You know, Beauty, my daughter is only two or three years older than you.
Does she live in this city, Khala? Will I meet her?
No, she lives in Netrokona. But, maybe, someday I will take you for a visit to Netrokona and then you can meet her. Im sure the two of you will be great friends.
Beauty beams.
The sky suddenly turns wild. Clouds start roaring and very soon it starts raining.
Jasmine?Lina, the lady of the house, calls out.
Yes, Apa?
Lina enters the kitchen. Could you accompany Sumon to school today? I want you to walk him from the car to the school gate with an umbrella. You know how careless the driver is, I cannot trust him.
But Apa, all the work here
It is only going to take 20 minutes. And besides, Beauty can manage here.
Jasmine nods. After Lina leaves, she turns to Beauty and says: Just sweep the floors. Youll be done by the time I return.
Beauty nods. Jasmine takes an umbrella and calls out, Baba, are you ready?
Coming, Khala, Sumon replies.
Sumon comes out of his room five minutes later. They walk to the car parked outside the house and get in. It takes them seven to eight minutes to reach the school. Outside, it is raining heavily. Getting out of the car, Jasmine holds the umbrella over Sumons head, making sure that he does not get wet. Sumon, a chubby boy, walks majestically to the school gate, protected by the umbrella held by his Jasmine Khala.
Back at the house, Beauty is sweeping the floors, thinking nostalgically of the good old days she used to spend at home as a small child.
It has also been raining in Netrokona. A 12-year-old girl, thinking of her mother who works and lives far, far away from her, is walking to school all by herself, barely protected by a flimsy umbrella she is carrying. It starts raining heavily, and she hurries to school trying to avoid the muddy puddles on the street, the unforgiving downpour, and the cruel loneliness. There is no one to hold her umbrella for her, nobody, but herself, to protect her from the rain.
Photos: Internet
