Wednesday, 21 August, 2019, 5:24 AM
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Short story

Yet, I write

Published : Saturday, 1 June, 2019 at 12:00 AM  Count : 1202
Yasir Monon

Yet, I write

Yet, I write

How are you Tom? Are you mad 'cuz I called you 'Tom'? Maybe! Even if you did get mad, I would never know. Yet, not everybody called Tomal 'Tom', right? It was just me and some selective people. Are you surprised? I am still confused as to whether you would even read this letter or not! Yet, I write!
Can you remember? Have we ever chatted before? On Facebook? No. Once on mig33, can you recall, hmm? It was just that one day! Anyways, chat or not, today I write to you. You don't even reply to my messages on Facebook. Yet, I write.
Do you remember the day we met, In front of the Wembley Stadium? We both were on duty that day. After work, I was waiting for the last train home. It was really crowded that night. I don't remember which teams played that night. And to what avail! We never had the chance to watch the match. I was from one agency and you were from another.
So what! We had the same job! We used to serve snacks and beer on break time of those football matches from the shops inside the stadium. There were tons of Bengalis around, yet you came to me asking for a lighter. You were holding a Bangladeshi Benson in the heart of London. And me? I was sucking on to a cheap Spanish cigarette. It's been a long, long time since I had a drag of the old Benson from home. I kept staring at the cigarette while extending my hand and name towards you. Who knew that this was an extension towards someone who was going to become my closest friend? And who knew that in reality I will never really be your friend at all. Do you think we would have become friends if I knew? Would I have written to you? Yet, I write!
Each month there weren't more than a couple of matches in the stadium. Is it possible to live in London by earning a few pounds from an eight our job? Eight hours in a whole month that is! Can you even manage enough food to fill up your belly? Suddenly one day your call found me. I hadn't saved your number, so I did not recognize you at first. But as soon as you spoke of the day we met, I remembered. My homie Benson smoking homie.
You called to see how I am doing. You wanted to hang out. I flew to Trafalgar Square after work. You did not have homie smokes on you that day. But you had a heap of topics to talk about. We became good friends on our second meeting.
You were just as friendly as me, what happened to you? Facebook messages get 'seen' alright, but no reply ever comes forth. I know, maybe you will read this letter as well. Maybe you won't. Yet I write.
Even if you don't remember all else, you surely remember your previous landlady. Don't you, man? You know, till today every time she comes to my mind I get scared a lot while also going into bouts of giggles. She was one heck of a lady! She would have definitely converted you into other religion had you not moved out at the crucial time. Let me ask you something today, why was you such a dumbass?
I get it that you had no money to pay rent, your part time job was as good as not having one, and I get it all. But that does not mean you convert your religion just to appease your landlady! You know, the day you called me from the road with all your stuff on the street, on some level, I got incredibly happy! Don't think for a moment that I was not worried. How will you pay rent for staying with us? But soon you managed a job at McDonald's. Your financial problem was sorting itself out slowly. So then why did you change so much so suddenly? Sajeeb was asking about you the other day. He often does. He doesn't live in London anymore. After you moved out of the house the three of us used to live in, Sajeeb and I moved as well. Aaron managed us a house up in North London. A few days after that, I found a small job in Wetherspoon. It was a part time job from six in the evening till ten at night. Soon after that, Sajeeb's visa ran out. He moved to Ireland. But he could not stay there for long. Went back home. He said he called you a few times before leaving, did he not? You got lost, dude!
Good point, do you remember your birthday? Today I'm thanking you for that. It was your treat. We were super excited to eat out. Can't miss this! But today I will confess something, forgive me if you can! That day the thing you were chewing from your soup really was a piece of squid. Sajeeb and I deliberately did not tell you. But you should have known. Dumbass! But don't you worry. You only had squid, not an octopus. Listen; always be careful about special items of any restaurant! But who am I ranting all this to? Would you read this letter? Maybe not, Yet, I write.
How's your mom? Did you give aunty all the Vaseline and other lotions that I sent for her? Did she use them?
You did not even tell me that! Hey Tom, I heard that people speak the truth when they get drunk! On Saturday nights when we used to put down a few pegs after work, you used to talk on and on. So did i but on one of those drunk times, you used to claim that I was your best friend! Or did I hear you wrong? Maybe that's it! Actually there is no value to what people say or hear while being drunk, right? You know something, buddy; I still can't believe that you have changed the way you did! Why Tom? Sajeeb and I even arranged for half of your return air fare and now, you ignore our calls like this?
Every time I see a burger, I miss you so badly! The leftover burgers that you got to bring home as a staff of McDonald's were pure bliss… just awesome! We had two fun years together, did we not? Actually, don't know about you but we had so much fun! Remember people used to say 'LOL' and we used to say 'LUL'? Lungi Uthaye Laughing (Laugh while lifting your lungi)? Ha ha ha…
Remember your Nokia E Series phone that you bought on instalment payment? Sajeeb and I paid the rest of the instalment for the carrier. We kept your blanket and pillow with us for a while. But later, we had to get rid of this due to many events in life. You know, you predicted right- I did become a high blood pressure patient!
Tell me, what else should I write? Hey, how is your wife? I saw your wedding photos some months back on Facebook. Nothing else can be seen anymore. Maybe you have blocked or restricted me…who knows! Anyways, I tell my wife about you often. Remember how you used to make fun of Sajeeb while he Skyped with his wife back in London? "Wifey, you are my lifey!" We still sometimes laugh about this joke of yours. Nobody believes, actually wants to believe, that you have changed the way you have.
So much to tell you, but somehow they don't really want to get out. You do remember that you owe me a birthday gift? Remember we used to plan while passing in front of Madam Tussauds'? One day they will build wax statues of us, as well? Do you remember anything at all?
Anyways, bro… you probably won't even read this letter. Or it won't reach you… I am ending my ramble here. I only want my due birthday gift. You only have to teach me to lie while drunk? That's all, you can do that much, right? I want to lie well while being drunk like you…
If you can, try to give me my gift. Tell Aunty to keep me in her prayers.
Ta ta.
Yours truly,
Hey, do you even remember my name?

The writer is compliance manager, Defoin group



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