For all these days, Sneha has been trying to forget that final conversation in so many different ways. Even though random bits of words kept popping into her head, she wanted to ignore them- sometimes by listening to music, sometimes by thinking of good memories, and other times by finding a thousand faults in herself and drowning in smoke day and night. Having stayed awake for three straight nights, Sneha’s scattered brain probably couldn't handle this load anymore. No! The coughing would not stop. With a lot of effort, she tries to drag her body up and go to the washroom. She has always hated the sight of blood. To flush the thought of blood out of her mind, she played Spotify and walked toward the sink. It felt like the veins in her throat were about to rip apart this time too! Suddenly, Sneha remembered a famous poem by the poet Rajib Ashraf:
Jonmo theke ei je etota bochhor
Amake shudhu kadiyechhe Ishwar.
Amake shudhu jaliye puriye chhai
Shotru ja kore, Ishwar-o kore gelo tai.
Hay Ishwar!
Tomar kadhe-o shoitan kore bhor?