"Why did you change your voice?" whispered Nafi.

"I did it for an experimental cause" said Murshed "Aaaaand, I love it!"

He continued to sing that everyone ran away.

Until at night, he was writing the pages of his books in the multilingual typewriter. He heard the couples who were continuously screaming. Conflicting to that, he avoided it. Until he heard a group of boys who were laughing uproar. He saw that three of the boys were laughing at Murshed's 'yoga dance' where he was dancing like a snake while the boys were taking the other drugs.

On the contrast, Nafi was anxious to see him doing the dance while the others were making fun of him. To be honest, there are two kinds of drugs: the drugs that recover a body and the medicines that can derail people's minds. The drug that Murshed took was derailing his own mind that made him crazier.

But Nafi knew that one day, he would become sober and responsible towards his work. Therefore, he walked away from the scene.

As he went to sleep, he smelt a strange sense odor where it came from the second floor from his house-it was Murshed. He was singing with the guitar with a drunken tone and farting that he could not even sleep.

The derailment of Murshed may not be because of experimenting the dope but it may be the past or may be, an unemployment that made him get off from the tracks. The reason for criticizing the society was probably the most inevitable part of the pathways that he was about to go through.

In the morning, Nafi went upstairs. He knocked the door, but, the door was opened automatically. He saw that Murshed was continuously sobbing. What was the reason? Was he reminded of his past like his tune or something else?

"Dude, you were happy yesterday. What happened?" asked Nafi with sympathy.

"Nothing" lied Murshed.

"So, why are you sobbing?" inquired Nafi with a soft tone.

"The truth is: I saw a mail from my girlfriend. It was 3 years ago when I could not check. She is married to someone filthy rich! I not only lost my job. I lost my creativity, I became anti-social and what else? I have nothing, except experimenting something that people never liked!" said Murshed in utmost excitement.

"Well, I lost my job too. But I saw that you are more than something capable. You are not only a brilliant student, but also an excellent singer. You even have a catchy lyrics that you could convert into one phenomenon but the only thing you do, is just to set things right. This is the irony that we all are the puppets of the society" said Nafi.

"That is why I hate it. Why do people judge us by the results of the education system we never prefer? Why we are not judged by skills? Why do we only have to get an A+ all the time, albeit I am an A+ student but I saw most of my friends died not to get A+. When I could not get any jobs, my parents just did not support my creativity. Since then, I landed here" explained Murshed.

"What about those drug addict people? Are they your real friends?" screamed Nafi.

Murshed paused and his expressed his sadness but had a cackling laugh. The laugh was not the only thing he did. His emotions regarding the events after his graduation made him a train wreck. It could have been repaired if his uncared parents supported him.

"I cannot really understand human beings. The world is a different experience to live on" said Murshed.

"We all are social hypocrites. You proved me today. Do you know? I used to care about committee of fools a lot before I lost my job and a death of a loved one but I was happy back then. Now I am realizing, what a hypocrite I am" said Nafi.

The next day, Nafi took Murshed to the park. The kids stared at his appearance and the broken guitar. He just wore his regular clothes such as the black half-pant, dark t-shirt and a glazy hat. His guitar was small and similar to the mandolin. Some street kids were so close-minded that some bickered him to be the 'mad guitarist'. Albeit the comments, he did not care about it.

Till then, he started to take out his guitar and used the strings in a broken way. Most people in the park were putting their earwax or else, holding their ears to lower the volume. He started to sing in extreme levels of high-pitched tones:

"Go,

Be like a fool,

Be like a tool,

Society won't prepare you,

Because you prepare yourself!

I hate you, you witch!"

Most enjoyed the lyrics while others ran away for the tone of the strings. All of a sudden, a young lady stared at Murshed. She was wandering something that she was not prepared of. She wore a white cloak with a long, thin scarf which was silky. She had a fair face whose lips were juicer than heart. When Murshed saw the lady, he stopped singing.

"Murshed! I did not expect this from you!" said the lady rudely.

She walked away like an angry pixie. Nafi was more surprised that someone other than him at least cares about Murshed. Some realities are harsh to see.