The day after that, Jawad went to school, full of corridors and classrooms. He stepped upstairs along with the students where at least, the assembly was over. He saw a girl, opposite to his classroom. Bespectacled and holding few books on her chest. Her wavy hair and the smell of perfume made him deeply close his eyes with a smile on his jaw, when the girl passed by. The school bell continuously rang, his eyes opened. Horrendously. He anxiously rushed through the hallway to his classroom, right before the teacher presented himself. Unfortunately, Jawad only had a friend to share the incident with, while on the other hand, Kochu looks for his own world. The person who was a lone friend to Jawad was Kochu. Jawad used to sit beside Kochu, an absent minded by nature and when he talks to Jawad, only the everyday school life and studies.

On the contrary, Kochu was unpredictable in terms of his emotions. Whenever he looked at the eyes of Jawad, Kochu gave Jawad the red tiffin box. The individual got overjoyed with various types of new recipes. Kochu was from a financially unstable family. They only lived in a house made of tin. Kochu's father worked for a brick factory, while his mother was a small fish merchant who sell them with a small market and the remaining fresh fishes were cooked or fried at home. Most of the fish farms were from the beautiful rivers of Sadarghat, where the boats or ships import and export the fresh fishes. This impacts billions of people. On the contrary, Jawad was an imbecile who could not understand calculating money might be subtle.

Jawad and Kochu sat beside each other while the rest of the class were talking to each other.

"Kochu, I saw that girl again! From Section 1! Remember yesterday? When they were smiling at us? Aaaand you are eating the bhelpuris...right," whispered Jawad.

Kochu was continuously gobbling down a mouthful of chocolate bars.

"Oh, that one? She's very uh, you knowwwww?" mumbled Kochu, while eating.

"How long do you plan on eating like that?" Jawad screamed softly.

"Not for long as I'm done. Now that I'm full, now, talk, what you have seen from the girl?" said Kochu after burping out loud.

"The fragrance from her hair oh my god, and the smile from the caramel lips OH MY GOD! I think it's safe to say I.Am.Obesssed. But unfortunately, she has really "powerful" friend circle. I felt like that she had lacked real friends...you know? Like it...kinda...led her into the selfish needs? Does that make sense?" explained Jawad.

"You sure bro? Sounds kinda eh to me" asked Kochu.

"When I say her eyes that stabbed me on my heart I.MEAN.IT. And that luscious face AAAAAHHH!" said Jawad.

"O God! Stop fangirling OVER A GIRL!!" said Kochu.

"I certainly cannot do that cuz like...YOU KNOW???? It's like love at first sight Its pretty damn difficult for an idiot like me to describe it" explained Jawad.

"You, young man, ARE GONNA MAKE ME PUKE! Please just...talk less and work more" said Kochu.

The teacher arrived in class.

Despite coming from the family of poverty, Kochu was quite a fat kid. On which Jawad hardly noticed because in his perspective, he would like to keep his family life private. In Jawad's case, mental illness increased due to their high expectations and things that are probably kept in secret that might even lead them to damage in parts of the brain. But according to a new research, if we restructure our brain, with such thoughts and processes, our mental illnesses would recover well.

As Jawad could not notice a true friend in Kochu, he always try to hang out with some "very powerful" friends. Kochu used to get annoyed, and felt ignored on the surface. In reality, even Jawad got ignored in the conversations, despite the fact that he attempted to engage. Most of the gossip were girls, porn, movies, and sports or going to a cafeteria, far different than the 'deeper' conversations that Abeda had with Jawad. Usually, Jawad pretended to understand what she was saying, except he let her know a few times.

But, what awaited him, was nothing short of an event that he was about to witness. Like other youths of his age, he was also desperate to be liked by everyone, unless, reality hits him. That might be the last "normal" school day, it would be the last time that he would witness such events.

Boredom hits Jawad so much that, he finished his classes, and walked home. The scene at home, was seen such in the unexpected times. It was Sabeda, who was crying horrendously, a once civil journalist turned an emotional wreckage. Abeda was consoling her mother, affectionately, by patting her hand.

Jawad, avoiding the usual drama, just went into his room. By the time, he switched on his computer to check out his own creativity. He scanned the files to look for the folder made by him. In reality, his portal was of his own passion of writing, as back in the 90s, long before laptops or touchscreen phones were available in South Asian countries, there was a desktop with the Microsoft 90s operating system and furthermore, only the buttoned cellphones were available. In the 80s, Dhaka University was more open towards the department of journalism, as well as the rise of the journalists in Bangladesh also made the war on the 70s into independence with the victorious circumstances. The year was 1999. So many stories were circulating inside the folder that was written by him:

Uncle Jack

The Unexplained Theory of Time

Short Stories

Love as a Minimalist

While the other three stories were unpublished but completed, the only story that was not completed was The Unexplained Theory of Time that might not have motivated him a bit because the least he knew, the problem arose in the writing block. He just put his head down. The world around him was quite depressing, as expected: no love, no real friends (only on his view) and no motivation. His tiredness and angst that might have to prepare for his agony. Until, his sister uses a plastic harmonica to tune the cacophony that woke him up from his keyboard. He jumped out and looked at her shockingly.

"You don't like the tune?" said Abeda.

"It's horrendous" sighed Jawad.

Abeda pretended to yawn.

"Sorry, I can't lie this time!!!" snapped Jawad.

"Well, you are a commitment phobic, you know? Mom cried because she saw our uncle's picture and if you were there, she would have been a whole lot better!" screamed Abeda.

"I DON'T CARE FOR ALL THIS DRAMA!! I JUST NEED SOMETHING FUCKING PEACE AND QUIET!!" screamed Jawad.

Abeda did not react, just left by slamming the door. He lied in the bed, thinking about the problems that he faced in the past. The contradictory scenes were flashing in his sleep that itched him that surfaces around his stomach ache. Sweat and tears that developed sooner or later due to the problems that were flashing.

THE FIRST DREAM:

It was dark, blurry, he saw a man who was covered in blood, crying for help. While Jawad's mom, Sabeda looked at the body, she quickly reacted and wept into the mental breakdown. The realization was far different than what has been expected.

THE SECOND DREAM:

A sickly boy, laying in the bed. Rahat looked at him, giving him medicines. But at the same time, he used to document the sickly boy's everyday life by filming it with a Super 8 camera, imported (as labelled) by The United States of America. Until, the sickly boy was breathless, Rahat realized that he died, his passion for filmmaking died within him but not his journalism experience, that made him cynical.

THE THIRD DREAM:

A girl who was bullied at some circumstance, that which Sabeda discovered her to be autistic and her mental development was of a ten year old child. On the other hand, Sabeda was a nerd. Due to that, she handled the autistic girl and gave her a book to read. her mathematical ability impressed Abeda, and she made a team.

THE FOURTH DREAM:

Kochu, used to work as a chef or a cook in a dhaba, there, he used to get a handsome amount. Every day, he used to go to school and shared the leftovers to Jawad, hence he was used to be overjoyed with. Until, the reality of the misery comes, which Jawad overlooked, was that the happiness within the poor. The father's enthusiasm and the level of confidence do make the family happier than the riches. Furthermore, the mother's humor do stop the level of bickering and make it humorous.

Those dreams might be vague but felt extremely real which could make Jawad ignore, but the fateful event was quite close. Hence, he woke up with a sigh and breathed harder. It was dawn, 5 o clock, which the beautiful sound of the 'call for prayer' (Azaan) was held.

As he went to school, he was, as usual, always come at the end of the assembly.

After few classes, the bell rang on the tiffin time, Kochu was eating into the extreme, and he just was irritated for the fact that, not only did he overeat his food but also offered to share the half of the shawarma.

"Would you like to have one?" asked Kochu softly.

Jawad aggressively snatched the shawarma and threw it away.

"I don't want your filthy rolls!! You are a fat, ugly and ignorant pig!!! Stay away!!!" screamed Jawad.

Kochu looked at Jawad with a shock and tears came out from his eyes. He rushed, weeping towards the corridor. Hence, Jawad also was deeply upset with the behavior towards Kochu who helped him a lot in the past.