Barisal | 2006 | Photo: Sharif Khiam The rain-soaked new look of childhood's favorite alleys-roads and corners, the wise surge of old trees, padma-pukur (pond of lotus), Sunil or Apuda's tea with the silence of the Jail Khal (canal) and Bagan (garden), the curious gaze of hundreds of familiar and unfamiliar eyes, Lechu Shah, dead friends, Tapa Pagla, Town Hall, from the cows and goats of the grasslands on the banks of the Kirtankhola to the ilish (hilsa) floating in the clouds, gallinule's call in the old bush, rows of swan running through clear water or the noise of the egret's returning , row upon row of known- unknown lights, shops, magazines, organizations, the fading Tagore or Nawab Estate, Brahmamandir, market built on the land of 'Shaheber gorshthan' (crischtan Graveyard) adjacent to Brown Compound, Modified Jail gate and unchanged Doi Ghor (yogurt house), thirty-five year old Shobdaboli , a new offspring of the Shalik-sparrow living on the ventilator ...
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