The Unfinished Story of my life-Part -4
t was late afternoon, not quite evening yet, and there was still a long time before nightfall. The sky was turning dark in the west, heavy clouds gathering, and the air felt thick and uneasy. I was walking slowly along the main road, crossing Angina Bridge, when suddenly a strong wind picked up and a light drizzle began. I picked up my pace, but the rain and storm seemed to race with me. With no other choice, I started running. The rain wouldn’t let go. I ran until I reached a small tin-roofed shelter in front of Opu Industries and stood under it. But even that didn’t help much. By then my pants and shirt were already soaked from the rain and wind blowing in my face. My whole body was wet and I was shivering with cold. Worried and helpless, I wondered where I’d spend the night in these wet clothes. Just then, a truck pulled up in front of the industry. A man jumped out and came to stand under the same shelter. His head was tied with a towel and his clothes were dusted with flour. At first I didn’t recognize him, but when I looked closely, I saw it was Jibon, a boy from my village. Jibon was surprised to see me. Before I could ask anything, he told me he worked as a laborer at the flour mill and delivered flour by truck. He called me inside the industry, gave me a towel to dry myself, and asked why I was there. Shivering, I told him everything that had happened. He listened quietly, then shared the little dry bread and jaggery he had. I ate it hungrily, and he told me to spend the night there in a dry corner of the mill. Outside the storm raged on, but inside, two village boys found warmth and comfort in each other’s company. By morning the rain had stopped. I changed into dry clothes, thanked Jibon, and headed home along the main road. He went back to his work. That night stayed with both of us as a memory we’d never forget. The next night, something even stranger happened. While walking, I noticed something leaping on the road. At first I couldn’t make it out. Then Mita, my closest friend, came and stood beside me. We went closer and realized they weren’t anything else—they were huge koi fish. Not one or two, but hundreds, jumping all over the road like a silver wave. It felt like a gift from God. Seeing that sight, energy surged through us like a flash of lightning. Our numb limbs came alive again. We jumped in and, within an hour, caught almost half a sack of koi. We took them to Haji Shariatullah Market to sell. There was relief and an indescribable joy on our faces. Looking up at the sky, I could only think to myself—losing faith in Him is a sin. No matter how long the night, dawn will come. Life is the same. Sometimes it tests our patience, but we must never lose faith in ourselves. Because after darkness, light always comes, and unexpected blessings often knock at the door at the very moment we need them most.
