A Flying Cycle: New Fashioned Fairy Tale

My family and I went to Saint Martin. It was another natural beauty of Bangladesh next to Bandarban Mountains. The island was small as we can walk into circles of it, except the coconut forest. As we looked for some cottages, we rented a cottage opposite of the sea beach. People call me Hema but my real name is Hema Azad.  Imagine me as a thirteen year old girl who wears ladies jeans and fatua. I was alone because my cousins never offered me to play or enjoy the moments. I even did not have any friends to see or play with. After I walked alone in the beach, I sat down-feeling bored. Suddenly, one of my snobbish cousins hit the football in my head. He misbehaved with me in such a manner that I slapped him. I was so upset that my mom scolded me.

I went to the guest room by sitting alone, weeping too much. In the evening, I went to the forest beside the cottage. It was so big that I would have been lost. Suddenly, I heard a scary sound. I ran away as fast as the rabbit. I saw a light that was sparkling as if the dragonflies came together.  When it stopped and stood still, I saw a cycle but behind it, there was a thin boy who wore a coat and a hat that was worn in Victorian era. He also wore a half pant.

“A pretty girl, aren’t you? What is your name?” asked the boy in Bengali with an English Accent.

“I am Hema Azad” said I.

“Oh Hema, pleasure to meet you again” said the boy in English.

“Again? Who are you?” asked I.

“I am Fredrick. My friends call me Fred” said the boy.

As the weather was cold, Fred took me to an old but hidden mansion. He put on the fire to the chimney that made the whole room warmer. It looked as if I lived in the time where Queen Victoria lived. Fred introduced it as his mansion. He played with me. It was weird that he was not aware of technology. Sometimes, I used to get annoyed while he talked about old stuffs that did not exist anymore but I overwhelmed with it.  We went out of the mansion and offered me to ride behind his bicycle. I sat behind. The seat was comfortable as wool. He peddled his bike from the forest to the beach. As the sea waved, his bike was pulled up in the sky as the lights were on. The moon was full that I felt I could wave my hand on to it. I saw the dragonflies coming near me. When I touched it, I could see it tickled. I smiled. Fred talked to me and we enjoyed.

He took me towards the Himalaya Mountains that were covered with ice. I did not felt cold because, the cycle was warm enough. We went inside the mountains, as we saw the polar bears. The cycle transformed into a skating board. I touched the glass that it was shining as the crystal. 

Then he took me back to the Saint Martin beach.  It was dawn. I went to the cottage and went to sleep. In the morning, I missed my tour on Chera dip as I was in the blanket since the morning. I had lunch. By the way, I am also a fish eater because Saint Martin was not suitable for the meat eaters. Another cousin of mine ate chicken instead of fish. The meal was good. I sat in the night again, waiting for Fredrick. As he came, he took me to the Chera Dip as it had full of stones but was slippery. I sat on the stone and watching the full moon. The sea was waving and the birds were flying to the top of the moon. Fredrick gave me some fruit cakes that were yummy. After that, we went to the Bandarban Mountains as the people were sleeping earlier at night. We stole some hot chilies and packed in a sack that Fredrick gave me.

After that, we went back to the beach. I played Carom with him by stones and a little jewelry. Suddenly, I was a fisherman cried ‘WHOSE THERE!”

I was scared by looking at him. When I looked back, I saw Fredrick vanished.

“You little girl, why are you here?” shouted the old fisherman.

“There was a boy with me” said I.

“A boy with a bowler hat? His old bike? Fred?” exclaimed the old fisherman.

“Yes” said I.

“That must be it! He’s hundred years old” said the old fisherman.

I was surprised to hear about his age. He revealed Fredrick’s back-story that, at the time of British Raj, an Englishman who was Fredrick’s father visited Chittagong to make some business in cycles. Fredrick saw a girl of his age who looked like me. Her name was Mohini. She was also someone from the tribe. He used to write poems of nature and loneliness that impressed the girl for a long lasting friendship. Until, the war happened- The Englishman fled to Saint Martin with Fred. Therefore, he became a lonely person as he frequently sent letters to Mohini and threw it by wrapping the letters into the bottle by the sea. As both the Englishman and Fred died of hunger, his spirit comes again if someone was lonely and friendless.

I just shared it to my mom. She revealed that Mohini was no other than one of my neighbor’s grandmother who recently died. When we went back to Dhaka, I went to my neighbor’s house. When I asked about Fredrick, she gave me 56 letters about how she moved on her life. I smiled and realizing the true meaning of friendship. Now I learnt how to handle the situation and lifestyles.

 At night, I was sleeping but suddenly I saw a flashing light in the veranda. I came near- IT WAS FREDRICK. I gave him the replies. He smiled and went away with his flying cycles by writing a poem with glittering stars.

A friend can help each other if needed

A true friend cannot be hidden,

Never underestimate the others

Create what is in you.