They gasped.

It was silenced for a while. If the teenager within Jawad was not partially exposed, the awkwardness could have been lesser. The silence was more embarrassing, as they need to embrace the reality upon it. Sohail grabbed Mamun's lungi softly and innocently.

"Baba, can we play carom?" asked the young Sohail.

Mamun smiled. He nodded, yes, that Haleem and Salam realized the boredom that the child had. As they were friends, they thought of playing it. To set him a recall value, they got out the carom board and decorated with the marbles. The rain continued, where three men and the child were playing inside the small, simple house, while the impregnated woman who was sitting and enjoying the game. The power almost failed to the blackout, until, Sayeeda lighted the candle and all continued to play. Until, Salam got tired, Sayeeda sat down carefully, and continued to do it.

"Remember, when you used to play snooker, while abroad in college? I may not be there, but you have played well enough to defeat the British lords, that they got jealous of you. You peeled the banana skin, where he slipped that he bumped off to the public toilet! You were an asshole there!" laughed Sayeeda.

Mamun, Salam, Haleem and Sohail laughed uproar.

"Good times, it was!" smiled Mamun.

Mamun's charming smile mesmerized the darling Sayeeda, who accidentally aimed to the wrong shot. It was quite embarrassing but also a lovey-dovey moment at the same time.

"Mom! I think you shot at the wrong target" commented Sohail.

When she saw it, they continued to play the game. The night passed, after they had meal. The next day, the trio: Salam, Mamun and Haleem disguised themselves as the torn cloth beggars to buy groceries and for the funeral of their companion, Sattar Murshid. When they went to the grocery stores, where the streets were least crowded, due to the continuous curfew. The police and the armies were checking most people, similar to the pandemic situations. The roads were wet and the sky was grey. The shops were open.

The trio was about to get close to the marketplace, while in the rickshaw. Until, an army halted them, with their aggressive hands.

"Aap log kahan jaa rahe ho? (Where are you going?)" asked the army man.

"Hum log bazaar jaa rahe hain, aap humnein koi shakh hai? (Are you suspecting us? We are just going to the marketplace)" said Haleem.

While he was about to interrogate them, an army officer grabber his hand.

"Eh! Jaane do! (Let them go)" said the army officer to the army man. "Yeh, humarein log hai, koi National Language Action Committee, ya Dhaka University ke rebels nahin! Jaa! (They are our men, not from the National Language Action Committee or some rebels from the Dhaka University. Go!)"

The army officer looked at their eyes. He recognized them. Otherwise, they were interrogated. The army man left and the Pakistani officer secretly took them to the alley, by paying the rickshaw fare. It was quite dark and it was heart beating for Mamun, as the contrast to the others who were joyful with the officers.

"What are you guys doing here? Don't you know that they were looking for you all along? After your companion's death?" whispered the kind-hearted officer.

"Sir, we are just getting into the grocery store! My wife is pregnant and we are buying food for all of us!" said Mamun.

"But be careful dears. Times are quite dark! Remember, we were brothers back then. But I don't know why the government had removed the word Bengali in the subjects of education? Where the fuck is the unity? Anyway, enjoy your grocery trip and come to the funeral sharply" stated the army officer.

Mamun met the kind hearted officer, before the trauma happened. His name was Aameer Rehman, who was once, a family friend of Mamun's parents. At the same time, he was quite helpless to see that their property had been taken away, while he sold his own house to buy a new one offered by the opposition armies, without understanding the consequences, also that day, the mother disappeared with the letter saying:

"You don't have so much money to buy a new properly, at least take care of your financial savings. I am leaving!"

The message wasn't quite clear but, it maybe for the greater good. The officer was unpleasant about Mamun's ignorance and arrogance, regarding that, his redemption was quite late before meeting Sayeeda. What was the suspense behind this calamity?

In the present, he took out the same parchment from his pocket, which he kept it for seven years. It was heartbreaking to see that disappointment even spoke into Jawad's ears. On the other hand, as Mamun, it became more mysterious after Rahat's massacre, which clearly echoes the statement of the older Salam. Who was that spy around them? Would Mamun meet her?

The roads looked clean as the streets of London, where the lampposts were designed in the glass and the candles. The marketplace were as warm as shades of the clothes reflected the heart melting times of the grocer shop owners. The trio bought the groceries, but Mamun attempted to give them huge amount of gratuity (baksheesh) to the shopkeepers but Haleem slapped his palm, reminding him the safety of money and quickly got to the rickshaw to the main street, secretly to the hideout.

Few hours, after the call for the prayer, they dressed well up for the funeral. Sohail was studying English, Urdu and Bengali alphabets secretly. When Mamun looked at it, he knew that Sohail would one day be the man of culture, which blossomed his love more. The smile stunned Sayeeda, who was eating a sour yogurt just for the unborn baby. The real home is richer than the mansion.

That's why in Wizard of Oz movie and books, Frank L. Baum said "there's no place like home".

Mamun, Haleem and Salam were about to leave, Sayeeda called "honey, you have forgotten something"

"What is it, exactly?" said Mamun

"A kiss" answered Sayeeda.

Mamun kissed her forehead because of Sohail. It evokes that love can't be understood by anyone, because it should not be described by one, but a thousand times. It may look normal to some, while deeper to themselves for what the others think. Sayeeda might be ill, but her social activism and wits do gave her the opportunity to help the household.

Mamun just looked at the ticking of the grandfather clock. Salam, Haleem and Mamun left to the funeral. They reached not only with the rickshaw but by walking, a little distant than the city, also with auto-rickshaw. It was least corrupted. They even tackled the police by guising themselves and fake medical records made by Haleem. The situation was terrifying. Rain, and the police interrogation. Somehow, they safely reached the funeral place, where the students were gathered in circle.

When one of them looked at the trio, they just got shocked because of Mamun's appearance. They were even surprised because of Sayeeda's absence. Then Haleem explained about it. One of the girls showed up to Salam, as tall, semi-covered with the white cloth, similar to Rehana, without any makeup. She wept and hugged Salam. The number of the students were only fifteen, two from the National Language Action Committee, one was Sattar's mother and one was the hermit man from the masjid. The rain and cold was irresistible. The dead body looked petrified, covered with the white blanket in the coffin-bed, a dark hole in the center of his forehead. The scars looked a lot painful, before he was shot. Horrifying, it was!

"What's going on here?" asked Mamun in a deep voice.

"Mamun, he was going to the university. The police called him and interrogated Sattar, when he was speaking Bengali. Calling him, a Hindu, he begged. Then they mercilessly shot his head!" stated the mother. "We were once united, but the partition made us divided! People are dying every day since then! When would this genocide end?"

She wept but was strong enough to understand the things that were happening regarding the surroundings. The trio and one of the students took the heavy coffin and buried it under the dug squared hole of the soil. The hermit prayed for the departed soul, after burying Sattar. In that case, the saddened death might give an impact to the thousands of people. The media was least but the statement was more on control. Those people not only sacrificed for their language, also for those people in the future, only would know the 'language' but not the actual reason behind it, unless, they are learnt properly.

The history is never one-sided but people create it for the agenda, to target the sensitive people who have lack of knowledge. Knowledge is an extremely powerful being, and when one gets it, they can't stop it but grow it. After the prayer, they got out of the hall, stood at a distant land from the entreaty. Mamun and the others mourn by peaking silence and holding chests with their hands. Sattar's mother was only weeping in the prayer hall, as she was not new to death. Furthermore, the green lands surrounded with the masjid sets into the fresh air. The sky was cloudy but the weather was humid cold.

Death was something more than what is to come, because life over there, as people and the religious text said, it's something more than heaven and hell. There is a wall where you could access to heaven and hell.

The mourning ended. They were leaving. Suddenly, an old man, shorter than Mamun approached to him. No one was there. The man was crippling, with a crutch. A salt and pepper hair which was scattered as he was bald at the top. Dancing wrinkles shows his madness that may eventually transform into his wisdom.

"Mamun! My dear son! Your mom is in danger!" whispered the old man.

In the original timeline, the same thing was about to happen. But Mamun considered him mad, that's why he ignored the fact. Furthermore, he even threw the old man by calling the hermits and took him inside the masjid. Mamun was more of a teenager, in contrast to Jawad, who's been developing more.

But what about this timeline? Would the 'unknown-Mamun', do that?

"Who are you?" asked Mamun.

"Are you Mamun? Or a time-jumper!" said the old man with a cracked voice.

"What are you exactly saying? What is a time jumper!" provoked Mamun.

"Ah...you don't know, what's the time jumper, right?" asked the crazy haggard.

"Nope"

"Then, follow me"

Judging by his eyes, the old man seemed to be unhappy with his family members. Even the cracked voice looked a little delightful but bitter. In that situation, Mamun followed him through the woods. The drumbeats were coming inside the woods, which were quite invisible.

"Are you listening to the African drumbeats?" asked the old man.

"Yes, but it's quite loud!"

"Aah! It will stop after a minute. Whenever, a time-jumper arrives in this woods, the drumbeats do carry in it".

The haggard was jumping like a rabbit with the crutch and Mamun was following him more to the woods. Tree leaves glow green and silver, the drumbeats stopped. The woods were calm and history to be told within it. The old man smiled with the broken teeth. He might look crazy but was kind.