Shubhom used to go to that school. He used to be the apple of her eye. She would get really upset when he would leave for school in the morning. The little boy would return home to find his grandmother waiting for him with a smile on her face. They would have lunch together and then watch an old film. Shubhom’s parents would return home from work in the evening and they would all help the boy with his homework. They would talk and laugh at the dinner table, their meal lasting an hour, enriched with their love for one another, their happiness.The Corridors
Shounak Reza
The corridors are empty today. Nobody laughs there anymore. The liveliness that used to brighten up the rooms of the house has disappeared. The framed photographs on the walls remind her of the days that will never return. She is looking at the photographs, at the smiling faces of the people she loves so much. It has been a long time since she last saw them. When will they return? Why dont they laugh with her anymore? Why has her smile disappeared? She will never find answers to those questions. Supporting herself with her walking cane, she walks to the little balcony next to her room. There is a school next door and the sight of the children there always reminds her of her grandson, Shubhom, the little boy with a round face and red sweater. How long ago was that? Ten years? Fifteen? No longer does she keep any track of time. Nothing really matters anymore.
Shubhom used to go to that school. He used to be the apple of her eye. She would get really upset when he would leave for school in the morning. The little boy would return home to find his grandmother waiting for him with a smile on her face. They would have lunch together and then watch an old film. Shubhoms parents would return home from work in the evening and they would all help the boy with his homework. They would talk and laugh at the dinner table, their meal lasting an hour, enriched with their love for one another, their happiness.
The school is closed for the time being; the children are enjoying their winter vacation. She walks back to her room and turns on the television. She does not pay attention to the show that is being broadcast. Instead, she thinks of the day when she first came to Dhaka with her husband. Horse-drawn carriages could be commonly seen back then, the city had a charm that it has now lost. She lost her husband when she was only 25 years old and raised her son all on her own. Years passed in the blink of an eye.
She deeply cherished the memories of her husband, but her son, and later, her grandson, her little Shubhom, helped her enjoy life to the fullest. They did not let her lose her bright smile. The corridors of the big house used to ring with laughter, with happiness, with lively discussions and reminiscences. Those arent here anymore.
It was a frightening night that shattered her life. She was waiting for her son, daughter-in-law and Shubhom. They had gone shopping. It was getting late and she was getting more worried with every passing second. Suddenly, the phone rang. She picked it up. She does not wish to remember what happened next. She does not want to recall what was said to her. She does not want to remind herself that everything was shattered that night, broken into pieces that can never be glued back together.
A car accident took them away from her. But they are still here. Perhaps, they will give her a surprise someday and now they are just playing a silly prank on her. They are with me, she tells herself, trying to smile. My Shubhom will soon come running to me.... they will come back to me soon.
The corridors are still there. They are silent today. They are looking forward to the day they will be able to smile all over again.
Photos: Internet
