... old age home

Given the responsibility of producing a child, the woman with a bowed belly went straight into the OT. She desired long for a baby hoping that she would be her future mainstay. In a man-ridden world, a daughter is quite like a refreshing breeze. The breeze floats away the choking smell of burnt ammunition and brings together the consolidated force of thousand Banyan and Benteak trees to pull out the dirt of human mind. A girl had always been a treasure to the woman with bowed belly. The OT was cold like a cold human face. In a medicine-molested silence moved by a few aproned doctors and nurses and anaesthetists, she navigated her eyes onto the stunning lights. The lights seemed to be the eyeballs of a girl. Little later, from where she couldn't get that moment, a young lady with a smile made a cover drive on her. She counted her pulse, measured her blood pressure and dived into the bed tickets. "Name?" "Dipanwita." The young lady told something, in an audibly opaque distance though. The tinkling of instruments she could hear clearly brought into her mind the sounds of spoons swooning into utensils in her kitchen.

And then, the anaesthetist broke the intermediate silence and silence came with anaesthesia.

When the heavy eyes of the woman with a flat belly opened, she saw some pairs of eyes with exhausted tension draw happy smile. Her husband, twitching his eyes, whispered, "No-no, no word! Just sleep now."

She got herself fully almost after two hours. A nurse tendered the day's bulletin. In the sky of her family rose a beautiful boy.

... Years later

Breezes blew hard and hard till the tree got pulled out, and swept away till it reached the wood. And there, it met other trees with the common wound.
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