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 Money had been withdrawn from the bank.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.

The second hand believed it was pulling the minute hand and the hour hand along all by itself. Without it, the clock would stop. The clock couldn’t possibly run. But today, after it came loose, it realised the clock was running along at its own pace just fine. The minute hand and the hour hand had never depended on it. That was only its own mistaken belief. Maybe without the second hand the clock looks a little odd, but it still works perfectly well.

Part 2

When it came loose and saw the clock running perfectly well without it, the second hand was a bit stunned. At that moment it had two roads in front of it. It could forget everything, leave the clock, go somewhere else and start a new life. Or it could admit its mistake to everyone, ask for forgiveness and go back to its place.

But the second hand had something else in mind. It was never willing to bow down. Envy and pride had swallowed it whole. It turned vengeful. It wedged itself between the minute hand and the hour hand in such a way that, even though it hurt itself, it forced their lives to stop.

I had been thinking that in a few days I would fix the clock myself and put the second hand back in its place. But no. Those who think like that are better left out of the household.

But after hearing the other crows praise him for quite a while, his thinking started to change. He began to tell himself, I really do have a good voice. I should enter a singing contest too. If I come first, great. Even second or third wouldn’t be bad. So that year, when the singing contest came round, he signed up. He practised a lot for it. At last the day came, and his name was called.

The crow went up on stage and began to sing in his ‘sweet’ voice in front of everyone. The moment he started, the audience began laughing and jeering, because a crow’s sweet voice is never sweet. Some threw rotten tomatoes at him. In the end the crow climbed down from the stage, ashamed.

The moral of the story

Never let the people around you make you forget who you really are.

Meanwhile, not being able to quarrel made the woman feel like she would burst. So one day she came up with a plan. She walked along the road saying, “I put two kilos of salt in one kilo of curry, and it still isn’t salty. I put two kilos of salt in one kilo of curry, and it still isn’t salty…” She kept walking and saying it. Hearing this, a young woman blurted out, “What kind of talk is that, didi? How can that be?”

That was all it took! The woman raised her voice and started. “You wretch! Whether my curry has enough salt or not, will you know or will I? Have you even seen my curry?”

That was when the young woman saw her mistake. Without another word, she quietly walked into her house.

The end.