It will rain. The wind that blows from the south on a slightly dewy spring night will contain the moisture of the sea, the cracked dry fields and the trembling of the branches of the deciduous trees will condense on that very distant mountain top, then the whole sky will be shattered by thunder and lightning. It will rain profusely. The dried twigs of the tree will be filled with young leaves, the whole farm will be covered with greenery. In the midday sun, when you go to pick jute seedlings, you may sweat profusely, but it will not cause you much fatigue. Because the loss of the new crop will be mixed like a flood in the point of blood.

But none of that happened that year. Falgun left, and the north was not black at all; Chaitra was coming to an end, a guru guru sounded in the sky for a day or two, the whole nature remained sultry; But nothing more.

Then came Boishakh. And still the sun was blowing sparks of fire and burning with intense intensity, the jute saplings that had risen through the chest of the soil were slowly shrinking. The ground above is empty, below is the primordial free space, below it the lands like the tiger pattern are sun-scorched, faded. At noon, when he stood on the edge of the field, the college suddenly burst into flames, and the whole field was yawning like a witch. With a burning hunger he has swallowed the baby grain in his chest, no doubt the wrath will come down next year.

But why? There must be some serious reason behind this. The discussion took place after the Jumma prayers that day. Standing near the pulpit, Maulana Mohiuddin began to say, ‘Beradran-Islam! I am a vile servant, what can I say in your service, you are aware of everything. In the book, in the name of God's wrath, when the world is filled with sin. What are we looking at now? No, the son does not listen to the father, Zenana is naked, the world is full of theft and robbery. Meanwhile, there is no prayer, no fasting, no Hajj-Zakat. Let's go today, we cry in his court, we all go to the field and raise our hands in prayer, he is Rahmanur Rahim, if you want you can do a little kindness. '

Maulana Sahib's voice began to rumble inside the pucca mosque with a serious sound. Haji Kalimullah stood up from among the worshipers. A bunch of white beards on his chin, an installment hat on his head, a scar in the middle of his forehead while praying. He cleared his throat at first, then said in an emotional voice, ‘We will definitely follow what Maulana Saib said. But at the same time, everyone should remember one thing, we want justice for the evil deeds. Why is this drought, do you think? To put it bluntly, surely a girl has become pregnant illegally, repent, Astak Ferrolla. In this area, it can happen in any nearby village or even in our village. You have to look for them, otherwise you will not be able to get rid of them. It has to be cooled by hitting the door. '

Haji Kalimullah sat down trembling in the heat, running the fingers of his right hand over his beard once, thinking of finding the real culprit in the cells of his brain.

Sufi Maulana Mohiuddin fell ill a day before the day of 'Megher Namaz' on the football field in the hot afternoon sun.

Haji Sahib was requested by the village to lead the congregation. Although he begged at first, he later agreed to serve everyone.

After the prayers that day, Haji Kalimullah turned from west to east, looked far and wide, and saw that the world had not yet become uninhabitable, and that thousands of people could be found to attend the court of the unseen if they still called. He looked around, and saw the innumerable hats adorned, whether they were oiled or torn. In the open wilderness, people are sitting helplessly, with broken cheeks, like a helpless person, praying for a little mercy in everyone's mind. Haji Kalimullah raised his hands and began to utter in a low voice: ‘O Allah, O God of the bar, you raise your eyes and drink tea, have a little mercy on your servants. You are the owner of the sky-land, Chan-Suruj, your finger is swaying in the sea, the wind is blowing, canal boy, this world can be filled with flowers and crops with your little wish. Give clouds, give water, give shade, give peace! '

‘Allahumma Amin! Allahumma Amin! 'The whole congregation shouted the same. Haji Kalimullah's white beard got wet with tears. Crying, he ended the prayer, "Sobhanaka Rabbika Rabbil Ijjate Ammaiyassefun, Assalamu Alal Mursalina, Alhamdu Lillahe Rabbil Alamin!"

In the same way, one day, two days, three days, the boys and old men joined the congregation by going to the Maidan. One eye is on the sky, the other is on the crop. Little children, smearing lime on the son of a mother, playing cobblestones and poisonous thorny trees in the hollow of his head, played cloud games night after night, cooked fennel on the banks of the river and fed the fakirs on banana leaves. Their necks ached from looking upwards; But there was not a hint of that sun-dripping crow-eyed blue cloud.

Haji Kalimullah was thinking these things while reciting Tasbih while sitting on the floor after Maghrib prayers. The shadow of depression in his eyeballs. There is reason to think deep! He bought a warehouse at the port of Meghna with half of the few thousand rupees he got from the yarn smuggling business, and with the other half he bought two and a half acres of land. If you can't buy jute and store it yourself, there is no benefit in buying a warehouse. What else is the monthly rent of one and a half hundred rupees! But this year it does not seem to be able to use the warehouse itself. Meanwhile, he has cultivated all the lands himself. Extreme stupidity has happened here. If he had given the lease, he would have got one and a half thousand rupees in cash, but he is running out of money to take care of the land. It has not cost less to sow a seed, it will cost more in the future, but there is no hope of getting a harvest in the sky.

He did not do well even after leaving the yarn business. Last year, he got on a plane and came for Hajj; He thought, then don't get so involved in the troubles of the world, leave the warehouse in the hands of the boys and stay with the land yourself. But due to lack of money everything was ruined. In fact, business, there is no question of honesty or dishonesty in it, if you have good intentions, you have to give alms.

There was a strong smell of mango bowl outside the window, and the chirping of the statue in the bamboo bush slowed down a lot. The beads of tasbihar are moving around in Haji Kalimullah's finger, with this his mind is getting more and more obsessed.

Jaigun came to light the room as if startled. Said, ‘Miyasab here? Didn't go to the mosque? '

‘No, the body is not very good.’ Haji Sahib looked at his face and said, ‘Without that, your Ginnama feels like you will come soon.’

Day-fifteen is the day Guinness went to his father's house in Nairobi, today is his arrival date. Haji could not go himself, he sent his third son Khaled in the morning. In fact, he is always reluctant to let his wife stay in his father's house for a long time. He allowed his first wife to stay for ten days, even in a completely new condition. The number of days increased a little more during the second wife. However, now that I am a child, not everything is strict. After his second wife died two years ago, he was devastated. But God's power, who can do it? What he has written on his forehead will one day bear fruit. The last time he went on Hajj, a month before he sat down, everyone had a golden family, nothing would be right without a housewife.

But the bride? At the age of sixty, who can give his daughter in hand now?

‘Haji Sahib laughed, laughed. Do you lack a bride? ’Maju turns her hand on her main beard and decides who will get married, I am fixing the bride. I will give a girl who is not like that, she will not blink. '

Haji Kalimullah's eyes twinkled with happiness. His heart was pounding in an unknown feeling; But the outside faded, the memories of the previous wives should not be forgotten so soon. He swallowed hard and said, ‘Look, I've been reading for three days, now is not the time to have fun. If only I could take care of the house. '

‘I understand that.’ Maju made the main argument, ‘even if the boat is broken, it works, and the new boat also works; But what do we want? Happiness to cross the Ganges with Konta? '

After that, the bride who was settled by clearing Satkani land is the granddaughter of Maju Pradhan's daughter-in-law. The age will be twenty one to twenty two years. The girls of this country are old in their twenties, so the relationship with Haji Sahib was not at all inappropriate.

Jaigun came with the kitchen utensils. With meaningful seriousness he pulled a pedestal and sat down. Haji Sahib's Ojifa is not over yet. Pausing for a moment, he jiggled, "Kire, is there any news?"

Jaigun said, "Yes."

‘What are you listening to!’ Haji Kalimullah stopped his finger on the rosary, he asked curiously. He hired Jaigun to gather secret information in the midst of his work, and that is why he is interested.

‘I went to Batasir today. I went and saw that he was reading ampatha for his khasita. As soon as he saw me, he started talking, but I kept looking at his body. 'Jaigun looked at the door once and said,' Her lower abdomen felt quite swollen. '

Haji asked anxiously, "When did his son-in-law die?"

‘It must be seven or eight months!’ Jaigun calculated, ‘but his stomach seemed to be four or five months old.’

‘Is that so? Then there is a gap of many days. 'As if Haji Kalimullah had seen the truth, a light of hope shone in his eyes. "Well, have you seen the man in Batasir's house?"

‘Yes, I saw it. The disease has not healed yet, but a little better than before. I stood by the door and saw him lying on the bed inside the house. '

‘Whatever it is, whatever it is.’ Haji said impatiently, ‘What will happen if you lie down? What can not be done while lying down? Of course it does. What do you say? '

‘Yes, you are right. I don't like the movement of the wind without it. How many people have talked about it since Rajbali survived. Didn't anyone hear that Chhamu of Namapara opened his door? The blame fell on Chamur's neck because Rajbali did not notice. If not, does anyone dare to do such a thing without the eyes of a girl? '

‘If this is true, then there is no point. I believe that it was Batasi who did it কেন otherwise why would it not rain? ’Haji started chanting tasbeeh again, after a moment of silence he said,‘ Keep it, I will try it myself, then something can be done. ’

When Jaigun left, Haji Kalimullah became deeply concerned again. The wrinkles on his forehead became more wrinkled. The fingers of the tasbihar began to move frequently. Windy, windy, windy. This work is done by no one but Batasi. This is the fault of the husband's death at a young age! Because, once the husband has got it, can he easily forget that taste? This is like opium, it goes without rice, but it can't go without its intoxication. Without it, his whole youth. For example, one or two men have nothing to do with it, they can tilt at the crooked look of one eye. But what are the rules of speaking. My cousin, who used to work as a day laborer, was in danger of catching kala-azar. Don't get wet with these words anymore. In fact, the man was brought to spend the night in one bed is not left to understand.

But what will be the punishment? If you obey the command of the Book, you will have to bury your neck in the ground and throw a stone at its head until the soul dies. But is it possible in this age? That there are police stations and police. The way then? Shoes? Keep it in one room? Expelled from the village?

When Haji Kalimullah was engrossed in these thoughts, Khaled came to the water of Mara-Gang with his new mother.

The full moon appeared long before leaving the house, this time it is glistening above the head of the bamboo bush. Silent all around, there is no need for air movement in the plants.

Knee water in the dead-gang now. The stream of the fountain is flowing through the clear sand of the narrow path that coincides with the shore by pushing mud on both sides. In the boro fields sprouting from the water, young paddy leaves are intertwined.

Johra bent down and took off the pair of shoes with her right hand. The little boy on his shoulder. Seeing the difficulty, Khaled came from behind and said, "Give Saju to me."

They are almost the same age. At first, Khaled was ashamed to say 'you', but now he doesn't think so.

Johra looked at the big boy's face illuminated by the light, her beautiful eyes under the drawn eyebrows seemed more beautiful to her, the inside of her chest shook like a river trembling in the darkness of the forest in the trickle of an unspoken feeling. Asked in a hushed voice, "Won't you be in trouble?"

Khaled smiled! He said, "No, what's the matter again?"

Leaving Saju at the age of five, his mother passed away two years ago, leaving him in tears due to lack of care. But currently it is not. The new mother likes him so much that he is not close to her even for a moment. When Zohra went to Nairobi, she got up on her lap and left.

Taking his younger brother, who was fast asleep from the other shoulder, on his shoulder, Khaled felt as if the fingers of his left hand were trembling for a moment in the warm, coral-like kiss of a dove's chest. In an instant, his whole body became shivering like lightning. For a blink of an eye, the girl's face suddenly turned red, and blood flowed all over her face. Khaled could no longer stand;