I was walking barefoot on the corner of the newly rained roof. At that moment, my eyes fell on a thin diary wrapped in a brown leather cover lying in the middle of the dry rubbish in front of the attic. The diary is quite ordinary, there is no special decoration or writing on the cover. Yet for some reason it was quite curious to know the manuscript between them. It seems that the effect of the ongoing idleness or stubbornness in the life of Lockdown is that even a little old diary seems interesting to the mind today ... Needless to say, this is my first visit to Dadan's house, and now I have to stay for so long for Lockdown. So I can't say exactly how long the diary has been here. However, the dust accumulated on the diary and the type of page indicate that he has been here for several years. Anyway, I threw away the dirt of the diary and sat down on the soft wet cane chair on the roof and began to read with firm concentration.


Page-1

On my way home from the field, I saw a magical girl. He was walking forward with his small feet on the bridge over the river Manisa. He looked very enchanted at that time. It was as if the Bengali lady, imagined by the poets, had come to life. She enchanted me with the simple sari she had left behind, the veil on her head, the colorful glass bangles and the pair of hands dressed in mehendi, the red legs in the gorgeous red alta, and the character created by the poets as if she was alive. Nah, I haven't seen Mayawati's face. Because I saw him from behind. So I was just lucky to see him cross the bridge.
"I don't know who the girl was, but if this is my last meeting with her, I can easily say that this is the best moment I have ever had in my life!"

Page-2

Seeing Mayawati again today, I was going to lose. But I may have found her in the line of destiny ... Even today she was covered in the outfit of a Bengali woman like yesterday. He was walking towards the fair organized in Nabinpalli. I didn't look back from Sanko's side, but I couldn't understand when he slipped and fell in a hurry. However, realizing the call of a young man, I quickly managed to follow him. Even today I could not see his face, it was hidden by the long hair on his head. Behind her, I was walking from one shop to another with her, when I noticed that Mayawati's purchases had fallen from the bag and scattered on the ground. So without delay I went and said a small 'thank you' for helping to put everything in Mayawati's bag. But I am the only one who knows how much that honeyed little word from his mouth has been able to create a storm in his heart!
"The feeling of love is special, it is created in every teenager's mind, but if someone's feeling finds a place in his future, then someone's emotion is lost!"

Page-3

Maybe God loves me so much that He has fulfilled my desire very quickly. Yes, Mayawati is no longer just Mayawati, she is my talking partner, my new girlfriend, my playmate. I met Mayawati again, playing on the bank of the river Balusha. Her sari was getting wet in the presence of knee-deep river water but she had no meditation in it. She was staring at the pink aura of twilight. The tip of his head was still covered by the real. I said nothing and kept some distance and sat next to him but my eyes were fixed on the front. Realizing the presence of someone, he sat motionless and covered his face with the real thing. I sat in the middle of the mine without looking at him and asked his name. He looked forward and replied anxiously, 'Noyna'. As soon as I got the answer, I shifted my gaze and looked at him. Today his whole face is not covered like that day by the veil, but his eyes were visible as he held his hand with his hand in an attempt to hide his face. It was as if I was drowning in the eyes of a deer-like long kajalrekha. I can't control myself with the question of sudden eyes. When he asked my name, I also gave a short answer 'Shimul'. From then on our conversation started. We meet on the river bank almost in the evening. Thousands of words are exchanged between us ... but I haven't seen him yet. I am so fascinated by spending time with him that I am no longer interested in seeing Mukhshree.
"Allah will have nothing more to ask in this external world if he continues to be my life partner in this way!"

Page-4

Today I saw her for a moment, she is not only Mayawati but also my Shyambati! The two of us were walking on the bank of the river Balusha talking, but suddenly a gust of wind blew his veil off his head and face. Ashamed, Mayawati quickly wrapped herself up. What a beauty, her thick hair like a floating black cloud, her lips as thick as a rose petal, her nose like a female figure made by an experienced potter, her suppressed color has played a greater role in her beauty. Yes, she is! She's my brunette! She is Shyambati of Shimul! At every moment only one sentence comes from the heart for his purpose,
"I want you not only to get everything in life, but against every wish, dear!"

Page-4

I am going to the city today to study at the request of my father, but I do not know when I will return. Budd cried when he heard Shyama. Even though we never talked about love directly, there was a feeling of feeling. He kept saying, I will not forget Shimura go to the city!

After hearing the word, he wanted to say again and again, "You are just my favorite in Shamar  Not a friend, you are my soul mate without whom I am not exhausted but destitute. "
Still, I wiped his eyes and wiped his eyes without saying anything. I showed him the diary and said, "If you want, you can read it and record the special moments and feelings of your life in between. I'll give it to you tomorrow. Stand in front of the diary! And listen Shyama." If you want to forget, you must first forget yourself completely. But is that possible at all? If you think it's impossible, then it's impossible to forget you. "

Page-5

It's been seven days since you left and Shimu left me, I can't stay! Intense instability is consuming me! Can you feel the restlessness of seeing you every moment, Shimu? Why did he introduce me to this unknown feeling when he left? I felt good without knowing the name of this feeling. Why do you make me sleepless by telling the secret behind the feelings, dear? I'm waiting for you! Will I be able to endure the unbearable pain of this anxious waiting or will I be exhausted by the burning of this waiting! However,
"Even if it has to be exhausted, it will be only for you and for you!"

Page-6

You know, Shimu, your teenager Shyama is twenty years old today. Once in five years you didn't come to see me, you didn't come to walk on the sand with my hand in your hand, you didn't call me Shyama! Even today, I keep my feet wet in the stream of sand at every twilight. In the hope that someone will come and call her Mayawati or Shyambati. Yet, alas, you did not come once, but every time, waiting for you, only a sigh came out of this burnt body. Still waiting for your arrival ...

Page-6-(1)

I'm scared Shimu Go! The mind is in a state of panic ... I think I will lose you! Today again a new good man went to Abba with a marriage proposal. I hardly persuaded my father not to marry me now. But how long will I stop my father like this because such a young girl wants to stay at home without getting married! My friend Mitra said you went to town and forgot about me. But is it possible at all? You said you have to forget yourself to forget me, which is impossible! Yet why is this unknown fear and hesitation causing intense pain in the heart? Janice Budd wants me to put my head in your heart and say my sad words. But where is the opportunity, where is the heart and where is you! "Come back dear! Your sweetheart is so thirsty to get you!"

Page-6

Shimu at my wedding today. No! No! Marriage is not my death ... your sister-in-law's death! Because I made you my existence, I made small dreams about you, I did not include you in my world, but I made you my world. When you don't exist, I have to merge with another existence, then my existence is destroyed, isn't it? Then Mitra did not lie, you went to the city and forgot your village Shyama! Maybe you have changed yourself so much from being urban that you have forgotten yourself. As a result, the existence of this shama has been erased from your mind and brain! Alas, the writing of your diary came true, the feelings created in your teenage mind fell away with emotion! But my feelings did not fade away with emotion, but became stronger and stronger over time. You may mix with others, but I'm not! Because you are not my complement, you are my whole being ... I paint myself in your existence, but I have forgotten your own existence and made your own existence. May you be well, may you be well, father and mother, may you be well, every love created in the bosom of the world ...
As soon as I finished reading the diary, I couldn't stop myself. The disobedient non-water came down through the eyes. My tears seemed to make the stains of old tears floating on the last page even clearer. I hugged the diary to my chest for a while and broke down in silent tears. But suddenly the question came to my mind, did Nayana really embrace death or did she survive the journey by the grace of God or did she manage to get married? I think it was an addiction to know the whole incident. So I took the whole diary a few times. But nowhere did I find anyone's name or any sign that the owner of the diary could be identified. So will I ever know the whole story?
Nah, I will not find peace without knowing the whole incident. I immediately remembered that since the diary was found on the roof of this house, it would be one of the members of the house. Damn! I understand who will be? Because there are about 36 people living in this house. Moreover, there are working people. So one of them may be the owner of the diary. Well, there is no one in this house named Nayana ... Nah, if this name is not someone's, then who can it be? I ask Rahima Aunty, she must be able to say that she is the oldest resident! I went down from the roof thinking.
---- Auntie! Where are you! I need you a lot.
---- I am coming in two minutes. Yes, tell me, what do you need now?
---- In fact, my aunt should have known something. Do you know someone named Shyama or Nayana?
---- No, sister! I have lived in this house since I was a teenager but I don't know anyone by that name. Why do you need?
The cloud of hope that had accumulated in my aunt's words seemed to fall like rain. So I sighed and said,
---- No, there is no need for that! Well listen, do you know anyone named Shimul?
---- What is he! Shimul is a great master, it means your grandfather Name.
Listening to my aunt's words, I was stunned. But if Shimul didn't come back to Nayana, then diary ... I ran to Dadan's house to get all the questions. As soon as I entered Dadan's room, I grabbed the diary and asked him all the questions without giving him a chance to say anything.
Dadan smiled and took out an old cloudy picture. In the picture, a woman dressed as a bride is sitting next to her grandfather with a smile of pain and contentment on her face. I looked at Dadan in surprise.
---- This is your eyebrow, my eyebrows! Yes, I was married to Shyama that day. However, he was not informed intentionally. I wanted to surprise him ... but I didn't know that he would bring his own life. With luck, I was able to break down the door in time and take Maya to the hospital, otherwise Maya ...
---- So grandparents don't know grandma when someone says that eye name? Rahima Aunty also said ...
---- I used to call your grandmother Bhramar after marriage because I lost my life Bhramar and got it back. So no one knows the name of the eye so much. You know, when your dad was half-dead in bed at the time of your birth, it seemed like I wasn't going to live anymore ...
But the bumblebee said to me in a trembling voice, "Don't think I'm leaving, it's all over! I'm leaving the responsibility of my children to you. Take care of yourself. I'm not dying, I'm dying for you, so find me in you. Believe me, you will be able to spend the rest of your life on earth in love with me.
Knowing the whole secret of the diary, I stood on my verandah and said anxiously,
---- "How many unknown things are hidden,
           Fold the diary page. "
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