Abdullah, Abdullah…
There it goes again, first thing in the morning. He was sick of it. Annoyed, he called back, “What is it? I’m coming.”
“Son, could you get me my glasses? I can’t find them for some reason.”
“They’re right next to your bed. Anything else?”
“No, son, nothing else.”
“Then I’m off. I’ve got a lot to do.”
The way the boy behaves hurts a lot sometimes. And yet when I could still walk, how he loved me! When I came home from work he would hug me and tell me all sorts of stories. Everything changes with time somehow. Our children are the greatest treasure of our lives, but to them we may be worth about as much as a pawn in a game of chess, or even less. Still, there’s nothing to be done. It’s all fate. That’s how things have always gone, and that’s how they’ll go.
When I put my glasses on, the notifications on my phone came into focus. Until then they’d been blurry and I’d been guessing at them. Money had been withdrawn from the bank. Maybe he withdrew it, but the amount looked much bigger than last month. If the money keeps going out like this, it will all be gone in a few months. I’ll have to find another way very soon, or running the household will get hard. If my legs were all right, I wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. But there it is, the game fate plays. Whenever I think about my legs, the whole thing comes back in front of my eyes. I feel sorry for my friend. Terribly sorry.
My friend and I went to college and university together, and we even worked at the same company. We went up into the hills with a team for a project. Somehow, unluckily, someone slipped and fell onto us. We couldn’t hold our balance and fell from the top of the hill. It wasn’t very high, but we landed on rocks. My friend died on the spot. I survived, but the damage to my spinal cord took away my ability to walk forever. I still remember that he fell with me because he was trying to catch me.
Suddenly the door opens. He’s here. I’m a little surprised to see him, because lately he hardly ever comes to me. As soon as he comes in he starts talking. “Your bank money is nearly gone. There are only a few thousand taka left. How are you going to manage? Is there money in any other account?”
“Sit here by the bed for a minute. You look very tired.” I wanted to tell him, it’s been so long since I’ve had a proper look at you. But before I could say it, he said,
“I don’t have time to sit. There’s a lot of work to do around the house. I’m going.” And he left.
I expected him to say that. And yet even three years ago he would come home at night, drop everything, and come and sit with me. He would say, “Work can wait. First tell me how your day was.” He used to look after me himself. Now he doesn’t have time for me, so last year he hired a helper who does whatever little things I need. In a way it’s for the best. At least I see less of the way he ignores me.
These days the whole day goes by on my phone, which is fine. I used to read books. I still do, but on the phone. It saves the money I’d spend on books.
Everything takes time.
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