I get born at 02.30am. In the
morning when my parent brought me home, they found everywhere is decorated
with flowers. Like they are welcoming me. The fact was “Shahid Minar”, the
symbol of the language fighters who died to keep our mother tongue, was right
beside the Dhaka Medical College. The whole area was decorated with flowers in
respect of the language fighters.
Later they put my name “Shimul”,
a flower of Spring.
I like the flowers. I used to search
on the internet and keep beautiful flower pictures to make it my desktop
picture.
In my first job, many of my
colleagues give me flowers on my birthday. My whole desk was covered with
flowers. At the end of the day, I had to ask someone to help me to carry flowers
for me because I couldn’t take them all at a time.
This continues in my other jobs
too. But things have changed now. Last year, my birthday was the worse celebration
of my life. I kept quiet and wanted to know, how others celebrate my birthday.
Nobody did anything. Even at home people didn’t care to say, “Happy birthday”,
no gift, no arrangement. Only my mum called me, and sisters send me a message. It
hurts! So, now I have decided I will celebrate it in my own way. As much fun
as I can have by arranging by myself. Won’t bother if anybody does anything or
not. I can buy flowers for myself, right?
