Our house was facing a
major street in Dhaka. An old man rented the shop in
the first floor for his book store. We called the old man
ChaCha Mia. Infect, until today I am not sure what is
his real name. I saw him everyday sitting on a stool
in his shop, except Friday, when he used to go visit his son
in Mirpur.
One afternoon
when I came back from college, I happened to look inside the
book store. I saw "chacha mia" standing in the
corner of the store wearing a coat. It looked like he
was feeling cold. I really did not think of anything
and moved on to up stair.
In about 15
minutes, a young lady was yielding from the street asking
for help. It was 2.00 in the afternoon. Hearing
all the noise, I ran down to the book store. Most of the
adult men were at work. I was the only one who was
considered a adult man among 7/8 other women. We all
found out that ChaCha Mia laying on the floor and lots of
white stuffs coming out of his mouth. He was still
alive but in pain.
No one knew
what to do. Seeing that I ran upstairs and call the
emergency hospital phone and ask for ambulances. In
about 30 minutes later a fire ambulance showed up in front
of our house and picked up ChaCha Mia. All the women
insisted that I should ride with him in the ambulance.
That would be
the first time ever, I will ride an ambulance. Anyway
I am sitting in the ambulance next to him. Chacha mia
was conscious and asked me " do you have my sandal".
I said "I do" even I really did not have it.
We arrived in
Dhaka Medical college hospital emergency room. The
doctors and nurses took him inside. In about 30
minutes later I was able to see him and he asked me to
contact his son. He looked ok to me at that
time. I told him I will do that and left the hospital.
Around 5 in
the evening, we got a phone call that ChaCha mia just
died. It was really a very sad news for all of us
especially for me. I guess, life is like that.
Here today, not here tomorrow.
