My father is dead
Nothing in the world hurts like losing a father
I am sitting with my father’s body in front of me. My eyes are watering continuously. But no sound is coming out of my mouth. My three-year-old sister is standing on the bed.
I am Ameena. This time, I am studying in my first year. We are three sisters, And My younger sister is in class six. Lockdown, so I stay with my grandmother. School and college are closed. Mom and Dad work in Dhaka. I was sleeping in the afternoon when I suddenly got a call. I checked the phone and saw it was my father’s call. I answered and said hello. A girl answered from the other side. When the girl replied, she suddenly felt like she had lost the language of speech. Earlier, he died of a stroke. I heard only this and said you are crazy. Then I called my grandmother, and she talked to My dad’s friend; he said that Dad was admitted to the hospital for a stroke, and meanwhile, I and my sister stood and prayed. After the whole prayer, when I said in the prayer, O Allah, heal my father, before that, the news came that my father is no more.
Since then, I have been sitting in front of my father, wanting to say so much but can’t say anything. I feel like someone is holding my throat. I want to say a lot.
My chest is bursting. Old memories are coming to my mind. Everyone says that a mother…
