Youth
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LIMERENCE

One can possibly say that I am transfixed at the beauty of nature. Sure my eyes relish every inch of the scenic surrounding before me, but on my mind, I hold the image of someone else, and it is undoubtedly you. You are responsible for trimming the thorns I had previously grown and igniting the hearth beneath me. I remember how I thought of you as utterly prosaic, wrapped in black and white confetti. However, vibrant was what you were, dyed with the best colours. Perhaps I had suffered colour blindness during our first encounter. 

I take out my paintbrushes and begin to capture your image with my favourite colours. One stroke, two stroke, I carry on. I remember how astonished I was when you told me that you adored my hair. Astonished, because I was used to people taking a fancy to my figure. Back then, I often noticed how your pupils would dilate in excitement whenever we met, how it was evident in your hazel eyes. I stop abruptly. The colour your eyes possess is not plain hazel, but rather a beautiful hue of all browns. I stop because the colours are unavailable on my palette. Therefore, I unwillingly go for plain hazel instead. 

One can possibly say that I love maps, since the corner of my room is crammed with dusty, old world maps. Little would they know that I traced lines from where you reside to where I am.  I created a path. A path that would not be found in any other world maps except for mine. All in all, your memories reign my mind as I succumb to it. You see, you are like quicksand, the more I try to get rid of you, the more you pull me in. 

The heavens open as I finish your painting. Disappointment fills me to the brim, since my painting skills were never even close to yours. You always managed to create a pièce de résistance out of everything. Shifting my gaze to the storm, I remember our last conversation:

"I don't know when we'll meet again." you spoke.

"Don't worry. We'll surely meet one day, like the sky meets the rainbow after a storm." I said.

With a heavy heart, I quietly wish for this storm to be the last.

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শেখ হাসিনা নিজেই গুলির নির্দেশ দেন, অনুসন্ধান বিবিসির

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