Contemporary Short Story of Bangladesh
A SHORT STORY BY SHAH MOHAMMAD ALAM
All on a sudden my love for mirror has fallen short.
But, so tremendously I, the same person, had love for it. So often, the mirror was found hazy in shyness for the hot breath of love. Then I rescued the mirror form again. Where has gone my mirror love now?
The day in which the mirror was discovered was rainy. I extinguished the lamp was gathering nerve and was trying the musing. That is why, I couldn’t understand when and who brought and set it. From then my tempestuous mirror love commenced. Even once, bleeding my hand, I drew the scarlet in the mirror. I didn’t feel lonely for long due for loving the mirror. Loading down the armpit, I got out to the world dropping the time machine behind in the garbage.
Binding our snaps of kisses, I hung them at the main door. For many days, after returning home, eating nothing but the mirror I could reach the dawn. Yet, if I look at the mirror, my looks are filled with hatred. Its company feels intolerable now a days. Despite that sleeping in the same room is a must. Now I want to be alone again to be completely abandoned.
Recently, I go out in the blurred morning and return at deep night. At both of the times lights are kept off and so, don’t have to see the mirror prettiness though gradually I could see the diminishing cuteness of the beauty. I too want that, at any day, when I’m back, I’d see it gone in silence as it came. I cried in pretty joy.
I don’t understand why it happens so. At the first time, it was well enjoyed. It went good though good for me is never good for long. I can’t make a habitat in any good. Only, playing blind and seek game, once I catch the one, I touch the other at another time. For escaping from the tiring monotony, I couldn’t get the sly route any longer. I, exhausted, come back again and again where I was supposed never to be back again.
By this time, again my old love for the mirror has begun to revive. In the meantime, the source has become known to me. For not being able to bear with the parting from the mirror, one day, I ran for the mirror bazaar. The mirror, that I purchased keeping my eyes closed says at first- So proud you wanted to be with solitude? I don’t answer, just muttered inside- All mirrors are of the same soul.
Language Conversion and Composition
Neelim Mahsin Reza. Bangladesh.
S C A R E C R O W S H O R T S T O R I E S 2 0 1 4
SCARECROW is an English Little Magazine of Bangladesh.
Shah Mohammad Alam is a short Story Writer of Bangladesh. Published Book is `Ka e Kabita Ga e Golpo (2014).