My life? It isn’t easy to explain. It has not been the rip-roaring spectacular I fancied it would be, but neither have I borrowed around with the gophers. I suppose it has most resembled a blue-chip stock: fairly stable, more ups than dawns, and gradually trending upward over time. A good buy, a lucky buy, and I’ve learned that not everyone can say this about his life. But do not be misled. I am nothing special; of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts, and I am leading a common life.
It was early December 1996, she watched the fading sun sink lower from the wrap-around porch of her home. She liked to sit here in the evenings and let her thoughts wander without conscious direction. It was how she relaxed, a routine she’d learned from her father. She also recalled some memory with her father and listen to her father when she used to sit tightly beside her father and listen to her father reciting poems of Kazi Nazrul Islam. But she personally liked Rabindranath Thagore. He always used to tell her, “Listen my child, always remember that it’s great to be great but it’s greater to be human. “And she remembered that very well. She’s always been a kind to everyone. She was gravid then.A couple of weeks later, she had been admitted to a local hospital, called Monoara. It’s not far from her home. A couple of hours before the doctor told that her it would be a normal delivery. But it was like her unborn child has a demon in it. So it ended up being a seizer. It was a time between the dead of night and an early morning when a child was born. That day was 25th December, the Christmas day. People were celebrating this day all around the world. As the baby was born in a moment of happiness, it named ‘Saad’ which also means happiness.A nurse made her smile, telling her, “You got a boy”. It’s a smile of contentment. The little boy weighted just only six pounds and has around head. He has the eyes like black pearl and lips like kinda faded red, more likely the color of the morning sun. his skin tone was bright enough. And that newborn son of my mother is me.
A couple of days past and she recovered quiet well then. The doctor separated me from my mother because I got pneumonia just after my birth. The doctors used to give me seven injections a day. The whole day and night she was lying on that bed recovering her condition.
The sun has came up and she was sitting by a window that is foggy with the breath of a life coming by. She was having a moment with herself. She heard the muffled sounds of crying in the distance and knew exactly who’s making those sounds. Then nurse saw her and they smiled at each other and exchange greetings. She was her friend then and they talk often, but she was sure they wonder about her and the things that she go through every day. The next day an old woman made a visit at the hospital, she was my grandma. She bring me a small dress knitted by her about twenty years ago.
It was January 6th when they released her from the hospital. It’s winter, probably the coldest season around the year. But this year it was the coldest period of all time. My grandma gave me an enceinte therapy to prevent diseases and make me feel warm and contended. Through it worked undoubtedly well, but it ended up burning up my bright skin up. I feel terrible when I knew that I was born with bright skin. Now I look sunburned. I’ve learned walking at the age of seven months.
