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By: Atta Ul Munim Zahid

I haven’t seen him yet. Someone called his dad and we came here. The villagers were humane in organising a vehicle which came fetching us here. We came in a hurry. I can’t find my pouch which has some two thousand rupees left after I bought some notebooks for Musavir. Yes, yes, I searched every pocket thoroughly. Maybe, I left that in home or it fell off while I came running towards the main gate of the hospital some moments before. I am afraid if Rafiq Seab has left his wallet at home too. How would we pay the bills or buy medicines for Musavir? He would be fine, the doctor said.

Musavir jaan is a stiff child. He never listens. What can I do now? He is still a child. I remember the exact day he was born, although I didn’t remember the exact date. It was raining and midnight. And when… Oh! I got lost in memories. The doctor is coming.

Over advising him not to play in the ground near the Army bunker he just asked for one game of cricket. I permitted. I would not have even let him outside this house in these conditions but he has to go to the tutor. He missed last two days of his class. An intelligent child he is!

When the alarm clock rang, he woke up suddenly. I don’t wake him up for fasts, he is a little child, didn’t I say. But today he woke up by himself. I tried to convince him to sleep but he, reluctant, pushed off the side of his quilt. I will fast today, he said. He is still at fast, my jaanaan.

But how he got injured? Someone said that some CRP or some kind of that, I don’t know, fired palettes and bullets when someone near the ground pelted some stones into the bunker, hitting a CRP man. And then they fired. They are angry, always. I hate them.

No, no, I’m not crying. I’m just confused. By the way, he has got a rigid and hard skull. His young brother got seven stitches on his chin when Musavir banged his skull into his face some months before. They were fighting over the ownership of a new track suit brought by Rafiq Seab. I don’t know what is the thing penetrated into his skull. Palette or bullet. O… Someone just corrected me. It is pellet. I left my studies in sixth standard. Musavir tries to teach me some English words sometimes. My jaanaan!

It has been some three hours sitting in this hospital lobby. There is no news coming. A man with a long beard and a skull cap is handing a water bottle and some dates to every attendant in the lobby. He gave me my share.

‘Iftar haz gov,’ a lean man shouted. Everybody has started nibbling the dates and gulping down the water. Rafiq Seab too.

Musavir is still is in the operation theatre. Should I break the fast or wait for him?

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