story of the year

I don’t remember when they took it down. I asked building supervisors, cleaners, and anyone who would listen, but no one had a clue. I remember it falling apart bit by bit. First the net, then the ring hung loosely from the board. I was going to fix it, and I really did, but I just couldn’t make enough time. Time is a very unforgiving teacher. Someone has painted over the hole and I don’t even know there was a basketball hoop on the wall.

I didn’t cry when you handed me your farewell letter. I didn’t cry the last time I hugged you, or got in the backseat of my car, or when the back wall ran out of hoops.

15 months and 11,000 kilometers away.

The other day I saw a kid in my neighborhood dribbling a basketball in the garage. I looked up where the hoop was. You complained about being too tall for your little feet the day you drilled a hole in the wall, but you soon grew taller than me and were witty.

The grief came like a tsunami, realizing that it had become a coastal town that had been left unchecked for too long. Ignore the signs for too long, and the roar of your wounds will ring the warning center like seismic waves beneath the ground.

Nujhat Tabassum Nirjhor

It was a shock to me, but I became a bookworm in 2022, so it was for my family and friends. did. The smell of books unlocked a new side of me, much more organized than before. This year, I took her second medical school entrance exam, which ended miserably, but somehow changed my outlook on life.

Although my English was better than the subjects I took in school and university, I followed the orthodox social norms and decided to become a doctor. For quite some time my thoughts were corrupted by a slightly perverse dream of becoming a doctor. After the MAT, after a long break from the vicious cycle of social pressure, I was able to free my mind and think about what I actually needed instead of what society wanted me to do. Now I am studying English and Literature at a private university in Khulna and I couldn’t be happier. I have finally learned to love this often neglected aspect of life.

cat attack

Yashab Osama Rahman

The last thing I wanted in my life was a cat. But the day after Eid she was sitting in the middle of the road. I wasn’t drawn to her disheveled looks – loose tresses of dirty fur sticking out here and there.She wasn’t love at first sight. But there was work to be done here. Taking the silly advice of a friend, we brought the kitten home, bathed it, and fed it.On the second day, we named her Nipsey Bella. She trained herself how to use Little. By the fourth day, we found her a home. It was fate. Even my mother, who was never a fan of animals, quickly became obsessed with her, and Nipsey would often go to her, meowing incessantly to open doors or fill bowls of food. cried. And she spent every night next to me, she always followed me and kept showering me with love, which broke me too.

Nipsey Bella made friends. After all, everyone is a cat person. they just don’t know it.

Run!

Amrin Tasnim Rafa

2022 has felt longer than any other year. What happened at the beginning of 2022 feels like a lifetime away.

Then I realized that this year is just a year-round chase. I was running because I was told to run. I felt like I had to run, everyone around me was running. I didn’t know if I really wanted what I was after. Exercise is not mine. A five-minute run can feel endless if it’s not fun. It takes your breath away.

year of the small museum

Fatima Jahan Ena

I’ve always believed that one of the best parts of a new friendship is getting to know them through their trinkets and trinkets. I love looking at everything, including used books full of pages.

However, as a person with social anxiety, I was often hesitant to make new friends and eventually missed the opportunity to visit their trinket museum. As I look back on 2022, I am reminded of the many small museums I visited in my workbenches and cubicles.

Think watercolors, anime figures, stacks of books, fairy lights, posters, and even forgotten stashes of batteries in dusty drawers. Printed photographs, trophies and dried plants come to mind. When I think of 2022, a nostalgic visit to a new friend’s small museum comes to mind.

our kind

Sadie Mohammad Shanewaz

On a cold January night, as I was sitting in a rickshaw at the Panthapas traffic light, a familiar face walked toward me. He took my hand and said,

I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was the first time in months that I had laughed so clearly and shyly. Rasheda told me it was probably last month when she asked people for money (requested reading material) at traffic lights because she got her job. “If people like us treated us like humans, we wouldn’t be on the street,” she said as she walked, twisting Orna around her index finger. I remember It was the last time we saw her and her silly smile.

shopping for compensation

Md.Zachariah

“Can you see how cheap everything is here?” she said a billion times. It’s been years since my mom and I set foot in her DNCC her market in Gulshan. Kitchen utensils, cleaners, all imported foods, she would zoom past the items, occasionally asking “how much?” I know it was a special occasion for her, but it shouldn’t have been.

When my younger sister was still around, the three of us would go to restaurants, amusement parks, fairs, and all sorts of other places. After she moved out, the distance started to take shape. As I grew up, we separated while staying in the same house. And now we bond through shopping. My mother’s last opponent was a man who sold nuts. The lady said she had already bargained forever to lower her cheap price, but she left the store without a bag of nuts. I did. Her shopping bag in her hand proved her victory.”If you go again, take me,” she said shortly after she got home. I haven’t been there since. I want to go every day.