Achamka Titli and Prem Goli


Sarwar Hossain Sami

After a long wait, the campus finally opened. The semester final break lasted almost a month. An uneventful life seemed quite boring. To break this boredom, the mind was crying out to fall in love.

The present is also quite strange. Falling in love has become quite difficult. Earlier, seeing someone on the street was liked, followed him and knew the way back home. Then the one-sided lover would stand on that road day after day. Every now and then, he would catch the lover’s eye on a good day and get a half-moon smile of the lover as a sight. Diameter! This is Then began the day of flapping butterfly wings in the chest of that lover.

Now I find it very difficult to get this feeling! Anyway, going with the flow, according to current policy, I also fell in love with a girl. I met her one-sidedly while watching her Instagram story. Olive color saree and wavy hair. Her sweet smile was hidden in the hair, I was completely amazed by the fascination! Although the matter did not go to the level of falling in love. But can be said to be a favorite person.

The girl’s name is Titli. A very sweet name. How to start talking to him! I was very worried about this. Because I’m pretty clumsy about talking online! A lot of people think I’m quite serious after seeing my online personality. I’m pretty old fashioned when it comes to having this conversation. Still fifteen-sixteen year old starter comes to mind. For example, ‘Where is your home? How many brothers and sisters do you have? What does father do? Is there a grandfather? What did you eat and drink at night?’

This formula is not valid now. So I took a different approach. By replying to stories that can be expanded. Incidentally I came to know that he is my varsity batchmate. It’s like getting water without asking for clouds. Couldn’t go further. Because at one point I felt like an interviewer.

After that I stopped talking online. I am a realistic person. I promised myself that I will handle the rest of the matter only if I get a chance to meet on campus. Since then I started counting the hours of waiting for the opening of the campus.

The university authorities have chosen a beautiful day to open the campus. The sky is full of gray clouds and whiteness. After the incessant rains of Asadha month, the surroundings have come alive again. That’s how alive-fresh is my mind suffering from mid-life crisis. I feel like a sixteen-year-old teenager. Inter has just entered its first year. Looking around in eager desire to grow up.

It’s twelve o’clock, the class has just finished. Lab starts at two. At this breaktime I am sitting on a stool near the pocket gate. A rather complicated book in hand, ‘International Jew’ written by Henry Ford. Besides, Rabindra Sangeet was quietly humming in his head, ‘Aji Jhoro Jhoro Mukhar also Badalo Dine…’. Suddenly eyes fell on the pocket gate. A young woman is standing alone in the Kalarab courtyard. I, Titli, know him very well.

It seemed to him that his arrival in this world was only to distribute a single dose of sadness to everyone in the form of radiation. Yet to me this depression is a novel expression of beauty. Her sad face looking up at the sky was like the glow of a soft velvet canopy surrounded by the morning sun. So from a distance she did not hesitate to resemble my Helen of Troy. I closed the book and walked towards Titli. As soon as I stood next to it, I said in surprise, ‘Rather than seeing the cloudy sky through the leaves of the trees, watching the shadows of a bunch of leaves dance in the middle of the path for the sun will create quite a pleasant memory.’

Titli was startled, looked back to the side. He looked at me for a moment with a somewhat familiar and unfamiliar look. Then asked, ‘How familiar do you feel?’
I smiled gently soothing my wounded heart and said, ‘Since you can’t remember, it’s best not to remember that place of identity. Rather than that, I got to know a new one today. I am white, hope we belong to the same batch. Otherwise we would not have met at this auspicious time.’
Hesitating a bit, Titli replied in short sentences, ‘I am Titli.’
To remove his hesitation, I changed the subject and asked, ‘How does the sky feel today? I noticed for a long time, you are looking at one look! Is there anything special?’
With the opportunity to express his feelings, Titli’s inertia was quite removed. Fluently looked at the sky and replied, ‘Nothing special. Not even enjoying this monsoon obeys the law of relativity. Isn’t that pretty funny? Some find themselves anew. Others look for glimpses of melancholia in the clouds after the rain.’
The words are said by Titli with a heartless smile. I started walking a little and greeted him. He walked with me.
‘The first-class man of your thought-no me, look at the trees around here. Don’t think they came back to life? These plants seem to impart their sense of self-expression to us as well. I feel like I’m back to being a teenager! A kind of fickleness is working in the mind.’
I just saw a pure and innocent smile on Titli’s face. He answered very excitedly, ‘This luck is for a few people! Anyway, don’t wander the streets again dreaming with your eyes open during the day like that age.’

Children on the streets put small stones as a stamp for playing cricket. I was looking at the butterfly. If it was a little more, I would have lost my foot on the stone and died. It was quite funny to see my own unconsciousness. I said to Titali smiling, ‘Listen Titali, if we were not in this Bangladesh now. Imagine meeting you on such a cloudy day in Paris, France. I would definitely invite you to a coffee shop to enjoy a cappuccino with chocolate mousse. But fortunately, meeting on this Bengali campus afforded an opportunity to invite me for a cup of tea in front of my very favorite place, BMW!’
Titali smiled her cheeky smile and said, ‘Well, well come on.’
We walk together towards the BMW. A similar atmosphere still prevails in the sky. A gentle cold breeze is blowing. We both walk silently. A pleasant silence. I think Bappa Majumdar is singing his ‘Pari’ song from behind.

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As soon as I reached the tea shop, I threatened Titli with this, as if she thought it was the Crimson Cup. Then I ordered two coffees and teas. After the tea came, I said to Titli, ‘Do you know something? This tea is available only in two places. One is in heaven and two is in this Khairul uncle’s shop.’
Titali said with a smile, ‘Wow, heavenly tea! If you want to experience what the tea of ​​hell is like, you have to eat the tea made by me one day.’
‘Areh, is that so! Then of course I will eagerly await that day.’
Both laughed at the words. For a while, I talked for a while about the mistakes of the last semester that I was in the exam hall like a helpless orphan in the finals. At one point I said, ‘Well, a lot of people share music activities on Instagram, let’s see what we actually do!’
‘I didn’t quite understand what you said.’
‘Can’t you see the branches of the blackberry tree hanging on the BG press in front? Do you see the whiteness of the sky peeking out beautifully behind the branches! Is there any song coming to your mind after seeing this scene?’
After looking at it for a while, Titli said beautifully, ‘Meghdal’s ‘Na Bala Phool’ song.’ I was quite impressed. Because I was thinking the same song.

After drinking tea, we left for the campus without delay. If not, the attendance of the lab will die in the field. I said goodbye to the butterfly. I was moving towards the lab thinking that I will meet again tomorrow. At such a time, a feeling that had been accumulated for a long time was shaken again today. The wings of the butterfly flapping in the chest! I smiled too after a long time, putting away the artificiality.

Lab ended at four o’clock. I am taking the university bus to ‘Tantu’ for home. I always sit in the very front seat of the second floor, by the window. Headphones on, playing Metrolife’s ‘The Day You Come to Town’. Looking out the window. The bus stopped at Khilgaon. I saw Titali moving towards the intersection of police outpost. I hurriedly told Rizaul Bhai to stop the bus without understanding anything. I ran panting towards the intersection. I calmed down with a long breath and called Titli, ‘Hey! Is your home here?’
Titali was probably happy to see me. As a welcome, he said, ‘Yes, this is the house behind the Ansar camp in Block C. yours?’
I made a little calculation and said to guide him, ‘My home is Chowdhurypara. Let’s go together or not.’
Titali may have thought that I will take a rickshaw. He keeps saying, ‘I can go alone. You will only suffer.’

It is better not to reveal how much trouble it will be. Because now there is no way to go home without Labbike bus. And I think getting this bus is equivalent to seeing the Eid moon. Then we decided to walk together to her house. On the way I am going through Prem Goli behind Taltala.
‘Butterfly, you know? This street is called love street?’
He looked at me with disbelieving eyes. I said again, ‘Oh, it’s true. If someone brings someone to this street first, it is very likely that they will fall in love in the distant future.’
Titali probably felt a little shy. Changing the subject to change the subject, he smiled and asked, ‘Well, do you smoke cigarettes?’
‘Yes, eat it.’
Butterfly repeats a cliché of the female race, ‘Why eat?’
I stopped walking quite seriously and said, ‘Cigarettes seem to me to be a piece of literature. When an author composes literature; Then his only companion is this cigarette. To be honest, this cigarette is a companion of loneliness.’
‘Where, today I have not seen you eat!’
‘I have been lonely for so long? You were not there.’
I myself felt a little ashamed after saying this. Then we both walked the rest of the way in silence. I forward to his house. Before going home, Titli said, ‘Instead of sending messages on Instagram, you can also talk by sending reels.’ So he left.

Meanwhile, I was flying with the wings of a butterfly. I decided to move up to a bachelor’s house in Khilgaon. Because if suddenly I get an invitation to meet Titli. Then we can get time out like Sri Lankan player Mathews coming to this head from Golapbagh.

SU/MS