Biography 266: When Sifat was born.

 When my younger brother was born, I was in grade 5. Mom told my father that she was not feeling well in the morning. However, my dad decided to go to the office.

Later, my mom took me to Dr. Badrunnesa's clinic, where she used to go for her regular check-ups. The doctor and nurses said to my mom, "Your daughter is your guardian?"

 I could hear my mom screaming. Not only me but all the patients who were waiting for the doctor. All heard her screaming. Some said this must be her first child, that she couldn't bear the pain at all. In my mind, I said, it's her 5th. Still, I don't know how women absorb this pain again and again.

My mom showed me two pieces of baggage where she brought all the necessary items. A nurse came and asked for some clothes. I tried to find something in her bag, and then the nurse searched and got wherever they needed and left. Finally, they moved my mom to a personal cabin.

After some time, they brought my brother Sifat. My mom was sleeping. The nurse asked if I should take him back. I said no, give him to me. The nurse held the baby in my hand. I saw a beautiful baby boy sleeping on my arm. Later, I proudly told everyone I had to hold him first.

My father came in the afternoon. He said a prayer to his ear. My mom gave some honey on his lips and he suck it up immediately, we all laughed.

My older sister named him Sifat. My mom chose a different one for his full name. Sifat became his nickname. In childhood, he looked so beautiful that people always considered him a girl.

My Biography 1: The Birth

I have born in the Bhuiya family of Bikrompur. They were the Nobab in past. My mom came from Munsi family. They were very well educated. I was the second child of my family. My sister came first in this world.

When my mom got pregnant for the second time, she was doing a full-time job and was working overtime. Because she needed money to support her in-law's big family. My father was doing a government job, he wasn’t earning enough to support his family. But mom couldn’t continue working too much in her pregnancy. The doctor told her to take a leave and stay at home. She did. But in Bangladesh, a woman can’t take rest when her mother in law is working. So, she continued to work at home. The result was obvious. She lost her second child.

Now you know, technically I wasn’t the second child of my family. I came on this earth when she became pregnant for the third time. This time doctor said to my mom, “If you lost this child, you can’t be a mom ever.” My mom took the challenge to keep me.

Our traditional in-law family didn’t like this attitude. Why a bride will lay on the bed and take rest? But this time my mom stood against all of them. My dad was the youngest son of the family. He generally didn’t say much in front of all family members. But silently he agrees with his mom and my mom became the worst person in the family. They give her punishment for this, but that is another story. Because of my mom’s strong decision, I survived. And they had got their second child, me.

Now a day, I think, maybe that’s why I became like this. I listen to all, try to adjust as much as possible. I tolerate a lot. But when I made any decision, that’s final. Now nothing can change it.

As a young father, my dad wasn’t good at the newborn child. He didn’t hold my elder sister much. But from my very childhood, I started smiling. No one could resist that, neither my father. He used to take me in his lap and travel in the neighbourhood. I keep laughing with my toothless face and everybody adores it. Yes, I use to gain people’s hearts. Because of me, my father started enjoying his fatherhood.

I didn’t take much time to learn to speak. After learning to speak, I didn’t like to keep my mouth shut. I was surrounded by Dhaka’s original people. So, I learned the local Dhakaiya language. When my mom took me to my grand parent’s house (Faridpur) all local area people came to visit me. To listen to my speaking. I keep speaking, telling stories to my grandfather. All the village people enjoyed and laugh with my grandfather. Here I can inform you that my grandfather was my first lover. He used to sing this song “Pakhir basar moto duti chokh tomar, thik jeno natorer bonolota shen (Your eyes are like the bird nest…)”. I thought bird nest is an ugly thing, why my eyes will be like that? I told him not to sing this for me, but he always sang it and made me angry.

When I learned some poems. My mom recorded a few of them in a cassette. She knew, with time I will change, and she was right. Now a day, I speak too little. From everywhere I have got complaints, that I don’t speak.