Yes, I am in your heart.
I will stay there forever,
even when your heart stops beating.
So don’t try to hurt me.
It will only hurt your heart.
You want to know about my heart?
No, nobody is in there,
I kept it clean and clear, and I would like to maintain that level of clarity.
When I was a kid, I saw a poem framed and hung on the wall. It was kind of a sad poem. I don't remember all the lines. It was in Bangla. The last line was some thing like that "Jabar kale dekha hobe, ekhon chole jai. (See you before I die, for now, goodbye)."
The words were sewn on a white cloth in different colours, along with some flowers and leaves. The sign was also sewn with thread, "Sufia," at the end. That is my mom.
I asked my mom, "Why did you sew this, Mom?" She became irritated. (It's natural; whenever I ask anything, she gets annoyed. Actually, everybody gets irritated with my questions.) She said, "It's your dad's choice. He asked her to sew these words. She doesn't like that poem."
Later, it became dirty, so she took it out. I don't know where it is now.
