Clammed Cacophony: The Origin

The phone rang in the morning..

I was almost ready to take off for today's daily drama - our office! I stopped for a while! Picked up the phone! A girl weeping on the rear side...

'How are you?'...

Introspection begins... who's the caller? Who's the caller?

She introduced herself... And alas! And I got saddened, and I felt even bitter... I pretended to be cool and comfortable....

And I was broken when I ended the call after few formal conversation and entered in our COZY washroom!

I was reminiscing those stories... nearly a decade ago, she happened to be so small - would dance, would play and would cherish us among all adversities - she was the queen of our sweetest kingdom, our home.

She was our little sister!

The time has torn us apart - our social distance has amplified. The poor blogger desperately seeks the destination - a facelift, a kindle amidst all darkness.

The poor blogger repented weeks ago! "JOKHON PORBE NA MORE PAYER CHINHO EI BAATE".. when I will be no more here!

The ambient gazed in incredulity, presumed!

The poor blogger found respite by placing absolute reliance upon His majestic justice!

And now, today, when I picked up the phone on the auspicious occasion of RAKHI (a sacred bracelet), our little sister cried out...

She felt emptiness for her friends were celebrating the festival with their brother, but she could not.

I felt, as if, must I move to meet her... to console her... to say, we are all standing by her!

But....

That's the subject of clammed cacophony...

The song of my soul.