They just got into bicycles, a rickshaw date and the cities that may have been empty but nature was everywhere. The music was soothing in their ears and smoothly adjusts the vibe of not only love but also living in a moment. Salam and Shotto were giggling, while eating an onion fritters, which only had more onions and chilies but least batter. It was not only spicy, it was craving and a lot juicier. Their love started to grow into a potential of getting married. But would it end well?

The visuals of love were simple as something that could not be expected.

On the other hand, Shehtaj took Mamun to a tree, where the brown color cloaked, hooded hermits were meditating. One of them was the old man that he met from the prayer hall. Their meditation broke with one of them, which turned out to be the haggard. He was energetic and joyful than before. The trees were vibrating like a shockwave, just above. Similar to the radio signal, the tides were showing its peaceful vibe. The woods were a little dark but only the light was shining bright in the center. It may be unseen to others but those who are aware of time travel and astral projection.

"Well, greetings! Welcome to the land of the Astral Hermits! Good to see you again, Mr. Jawad. And well, my lady, Shehtaj, you are still as beautiful, but the burnt scar? How did it come?" asked the jolly old man.

"Concentration camp! They not only tortured me! But they decomposed some bloody good souls" answered Shehtaj.

"No worries ma'am, I will help you with it!" said the old haggard.

Before, Jawad was about to ask the question about the old man, Shehtaj stated "The man you met, is one of the healers and the Pro Astral Hermit. There are several types such as you are aware of the Time Jumpers, which are actually the basic and learn to time travel by possessing the person who died in the original timeline, and creates a new dimension after changing its sequence and characters. As you are actually changing a bit of a sequence. The Astral Hermits could time travel visibly without possessing it, and can't come out of the timeline quick, similar to a time jumper. But they are wiser than the time jumpers. The wisest of all is The Pro Astral Hermit, they are not only the time travelers but also the quickest time traveler, who just could pass through time, just to see, what the time jumpers and Astral Hermits are actually doing plus they predict the ultimate future"

It got Jawad quite astonished about the fact on not only time jumpers but the whole thing surrounding him. In certain means that there were chances that, he could redeem the buffoon, Salam. In that case, Shehtaj went close to the old man. Rubbed her forehead, as he was acknowledged about Jawad, trying to fix the original timeline. The only thing advantage for the Pro Astral Hermit was not only healing or predicting the future, but also understands before saying something. The joyful soul buries the sadness through his eyes, because the madness in him could not be accepted. He was so positive enough to become a healer that all the sadness faded away.

Shehtaj became quite the young middle-aged lady, for what she was supposed to be. She revealed to Jawad "Young man, my son would have given up to find me and instead, honoring me for his initiative. But you found me because, you felt your responsibility, not only by saving the amount for our future!"

"But how have you escaped from the torture camp? What is your connection with the Astral Hermits? How did you know about us?" asked Jawad.

"To acknowledge about your great grandmother's issue, I have something to show you" said the hermit.

The hermit hopped through the woods, while Jawad followed him by strolling behind him. He showed an old, brick made house, bound with the bloodstained barbwires and the dark fences. The soldiers were marching round the fields. People were screaming loud in shock. Some dead bodies were thrown in the backside of the concentration camp. It was a revulsion plus the tremor that even the common people were scared to get inside.

Jawad watched the scenario and closed his eyes with an utmost disgust. It almost provoked him to vomit, but the hermit pat his back to quickly heal Jawad's sickness. The others had continued to meditate, while the hermit did ensure something that became quite a secret.

"Dear Jawad, I think, the answer is that, after Mamun had quietly slept, the soldiers quietly opened the door. Because when he gambled with a Pakistani spy, he left the door opened, drunk! Haleem was about to stop the calamity, but they shoved him to the rice field behind our house. There, I was grabbed to the torture room. It was not only dark, but the burnt walls shattered me. The smell of the dead reminded me of a rotten sort of pigs! I convinced myself to be an Urdu descent, which I failed. They have beaten me to death. Until, the old hermit distracted the soldiers, I escaped from the torture camp! But there are more to tell, no worries!" explained Shehtaj

Jawad was mixed with feelings of disgust of the torture room and warmth relationship with his great grandmother. At first, she was connected with the Muslim League for the economic value but the Bengali language made it worse with the relationship of the power of words and the misuse of religion.

Meanwhile, Sayeeda was looking at the grandfather clock, while the marked calendar had a lot of notes, including the history that would be eventually marked. Sohail was cramming science in the study room, plus the connection with history. The radio broadcast continued. Suddenly, someone knocked the door. It was so gentle but loud, sounds like someone was tired of the calamity.

"Who is this?" said Sayeeda.

"This is Haleem"

"And Haleema"

The voices were reliable. She opened the door. Haleem and Haleema looked weary, while the rain continued. But the person behind was Aameer, which was quite surprising. He used to come frequently, while Shehtaj was 'ruling' the Dhaka City, due to their rich status. Little did they knew, the surprise was on its way.

The knock on the door have been repeated. This time, was twice a twinkling and gentle tap, twice. Haleem was quite horrified of the fact that if the Pakistani armies knocked the door. He slowly crept near the door. The gentle bump was continuous.

"Who is this?" said Haleem loudly but calmly.

"Haleem, this is Mamun" replied Mamun.

When Haleem opened the door, he was glad to see Mamun.

"Where have you been lately?" asked Haleem.

"It's a long story" answered Mamun.

Haleem offered him to enter.

"I will, but I have someone else with me" added Mamun.

The gentle soul of a graceful, middle aged lady, who looked younger than her age appeared. Her shining eyes shocked the people in the room. Sohail watched his grandmother enter for the first time. Sayeeda cried with overjoy, Haleem smiled genuinely for the first time, after their mother disappeared. Aameer clapped and commented "For the glory of God and the nature!"

"Haleem, look how responsible both of you have become!" said the overjoyed Shehtaj, embraced both of her boys.

When Sohail looked at his grandmother, she smiled with a warm hearted gesture. Her twinkling eye just impressed Sohail like never before.

"Is this our grandson? Mamun?" asked Shehtaj.

"Sohail, he's my son" replied Mamun.

"Look at him, he's not only like you, he's more like his grandfather! I have never imagined that I would see a reflection of his grandfather! It was a great ideal!" exclaimed the delighted Shehtaj, who was looking at her grandson.

Sayeeda greeted her, like never before. She was trembling and had mixed feelings with each other.

"Hey, don't get nervous. I am just a who-man!" answered the giggling Shehtaj, pointing at her stomach. "There's another one coming! The baby is blessed! I can't wait to touch its cute cheeks, once it would come out!"

Moments, after Aameer was cooking and preparing for lunch, Mamun took Haleem, Shehtaj and Aameer to their room. It was an ominous sign that a lot of things would make sense at the same time.

Everything in the world is connected: culturally, scientifically and aesthetically. These three would combine into a bigger event and an atmospheric universe!

"Mom, Aameer uncle and Haleem, we need to talk!" whispered Mamun in the closed doors.

"What is it, son?" asked Aamir coolly.

"We need to keep Sayeeda away from the odds, despite her contribution to the university. As the doctor said, we need Sayeeda to avoid the depressive situation, because she might get stressed easily, if she sees anything violent. Mom, we need to protect the baby, as soon as possible! I would go to the university, Haleem, you go to the shop. Uncle Aameer, as soon as people comes, don't show yourself, especially Salam, until someone reliable" said Mamun.

"Salam? What about him?" asked Haleem.

"I don't trust him" said Mamun.

"My boy, some people are chameleons! They not only change colors, they also change weather" explained Shehtaj briefly.

Haleem understood the point.

During the curfew times, people were such in caution, that similar to a pandemic, they were trying to maintain the safety. Some by changing their language, some by migrating to India, due to partition and some died, such as the soldier's cut the citizen's penis for the other religion. Some women were sexually molested. It was a pathetic situation for the country. Some were even broadcasted.

On the other hand, Mamun was going to the Dhaka University Theater, also known as Charukala. The students were rehearsing something that would occur in the upcoming events. It was a commentary against the British and the war about spices and its trade. It was based on Kazi Nazrul Islam's poem 'Bidrohi', also known as 'The Rebel'. Despite Rabindranath Tagore was a Noble Laureate, there were lot of talents, appreciated under the country, but recognizing the writers' theme internationally was and is still a prestigious thing.

Some of the students in the theater group were also posing as girls because some of them were quite hesitant to rehearse, until, some dared to do it. In the further sense, when Mamun entered simply just like a humble human being, not like the son of the richest man, the students stood up and said "Good morning, sir!"

Mamun told them to sit on the floor by gently waving his hands down. The amount of respect that had been given to him, was for Mamun, quite undeserving. It was the happiest moment of the time, he was considered to be the arrogant brat, while spending a lot of accounts for not only partying and drinking but also buying and selling properties. Sayeeda did really changed his life to a respectable individual, still the uncalculated guy. Beside the theater, it was decorated with sitar, harmonium and the portraits of talented poets and dancers of that era.

"Hey what's up? Shyamoldas?" asked Mamun to the theater president.

To keep in mind, Jawad learnt the history of Mamun, when Sabeda used to mention about it a lot of times. Especially, the theater troupes from the Dhaka University. The cultural hall in the present, still now has the essence. Furthermore, the tradition was quite raw for its time. Shyamoldas was one man to have mentioned due to her love for theater. He was also known for the female voice, just to fool around the Pakistani soldiers.

"Sir, they were waiting for you for the longest time, since Sattar's passing" said Shyamoldas in deep tone.