"Sampa! Sampa! Evening's come and gone, how much longer will you sleep? Get up, get up!"
At her sister-in-law's call, Sampa jerks awake and sits up. Through the gap in the window curtains, she looks outside and sees that the last faint trace of twilight somehow still lingers at their house, reluctant to leave. In one corner of the veranda, that sweet bit of sunlight is playing over the parrot's cage, and the parrot has begun whistling single-mindedly. This evening feels wonderfully pleasant to Sampa.
Suddenly she remembers—before falling asleep, she had decided to visit Shanta's house today. Yes, she had to decide! She was forced to decide suddenly. What could she do? She simply couldn't forget yesterday evening's conversation between her parents. In the evening, returning from college, she was climbing the stairs. Hearing her own name in her mother's voice from the adjoining dining room, she had instinctively stopped. She heard clearly—her father was saying, "But then we should ask for her opinion once." Her mother had immediately replied, "What are you saying? We'll arrange the marriage and Sampa will object? You still don't know your own daughter?"
"No, no, you're forgetting, girls these days..." In the middle of her father's words, her mother had said, "What are you saying? Does she have five or ten boyfriends like other girls these days?"
Her mother seemed to say more after that, but she heard nothing else, went straight upstairs to her room and lay down. Friend... friend... friend. This single word kept echoing in her ears again and again. Yes, in this entire world, this one form of address had stirred her heart.
"What's this! Still sitting on the bed? Haven't even washed your face and hands, what's the matter?"
Startled by her sister-in-law's call, Sampa jumps up from the bed, quickly washes her face and hands, gets ready and heads out toward Shanta's house. Oh no, she's so late! What must Shanta be thinking!
Shanta comes out laughing when she sees her. But seeing her serious expression, she stops smiling and takes her inside to sit. As soon as they enter the room, she tells her younger sister Nita, "Send up two cups of tea."
"So what's the news? Looking at you, it seems like you're carrying a burden twice, three times, or even more than your own weight on your head. I mean, you've been given the responsibility of solving some massive problem!" She raises her index finger in a scolding gesture, "Isn't that right?"
Looking at her serious face, Sampa laughs. "Look, your foolishness isn't always amusing."
"Nothing amuses you anyway, so instead of sitting there quietly, just tell me what you have to say."
When she opens up about yesterday evening's conversation between her parents, Shanta jumps up. "Wonderful, wonderful! Where are the sweets?"
"Stop it, I'm not going to marry him."
Raising her eyebrows, Shanta asks, "You won't marry him—what do you mean?"
Sampa becomes hesitant, feels embarrassed. With shyness she says, "Zaman... my friend Zaman..." The words remain unfinished.
"Now that's something! Who is this again?"
"My messenger friend."
"Messenger friend! You had a messenger friend? Where does he live? Have you seen him?"
"No. He just came to Dhaka from South Korea a few days ago."
"What did you say? You haven't seen him? Yet you've completed millions of exchanges of feelings in the ocean of emotion! You've truly amazed me. You're modern, educated. Though a fairy tale has finally begun after all this time, even so he's a stranger!"
Then Sampa opens up completely. "A two-year messenger friend. After coming to Dhaka, the mobile phone has been playing messenger; before that it was letters. One day even the eternally shy Sampa said—I'd be happy if you came to our house someday.
"Why? Is the friendship nearing its end? Or do you want to see me? Tell me honestly which one..." Without finishing his words, Zaman had burst into laughter. And on this side, at the other end of the phone, Sampa had turned red with embarrassment. Amazed by the man's frankness and blushing with shame, she had thought, "My, what a decent person! Thank goodness he didn't say that face to face. Would he talk like this if we met in person?" But contrary to everyone's opinion, the usually short-tempered Sampa hadn't gotten angry at Zaman's words that day. Instead, she had somehow liked Zaman's open-hearted laughter.
A few days later, Sampa had received Zaman's text.
"Beloved of good character,
I have come from very far.
I thought
you would call me to wipe away my weariness."
He had also written, "You will see me on December 19th."
Yours,
Friend
Hadn't Sampa been waiting for that very day since receiving the letter? She had thought over and over... How will I recognize him? I haven't even seen his photograph. He may have seen mine, but what if he can't recognize me? No, how could that be? If he couldn't, would he have written those words so casually?
These past days, she had been expecting his footsteps every moment. Hearing about two years of heart-to-heart communication only through texts, Shanta was amazed. This girl always keeps herself covered under a veil of seriousness—even studying in a co-educational college, she never once made the effort to speak with a boy...
After thinking for a while, Shanta says, "So what? Tell your sister-in-law everything openly. If you object, they certainly won't marry you off here."
"Have you gone mad? From what little I heard from my sister-in-law this morning, it's clear everyone is absolutely delighted with Atiq. Such a talented, handsome, good-natured boy apparently can't be found these days. So you can understand, I can't easily refuse such a universally chosen groom. You suggest some other way."
"Alright, don't worry about anything. Just give me both Atiq's and Zaman's addresses."
"I don't know Atiq's address, but my sister-in-law gave me their phone number this morning, saying, 'Call and get to know each other from now on, understand?' Here's the number, and here's Zaman's address." Shanta saw: E. Zaman, Bonbithi Residential, Block D, House Number 487, Dhaka.
Coming home, Sampa thinks endlessly. What will happen now! How will she meet Zaman—she doesn't even know his phone number! Occasionally Zaman himself calls when he feels like it, even then on messenger.
She didn't know that Shanta was such a fool. Five days have passed, she doesn't say anything clearly. "I'm arranging everything, you sleep peacefully." Saying just this much, she hangs up before saying anything else.
Everything about the wedding is settled on this end. Her opinion wasn't needed. Her sister-in-law took her silence as a sign of consent. Shanta came in the evening. She said seriously, "Listen, I've met both of them. Complete opposites. Your messenger friend—what can I say, absolutely worthless. He can be kept in the position of messenger friend only, can't be promoted to any other position. But Mr. Atiq! Oh, how wonderful, brilliant, incomparable! I'm telling you, you'll be happy here."
In anger, Sampa stopped talking to Shanta altogether. How strange! These past few days Zaman hasn't sent a single message. He hasn't even called once. Shanta was saying that hearing about her wedding, he apparently wanted sweets! What an inhuman person! And she had thought of him as a friend all this time. In the fair of sweet memories from those long two years, she discovers with amazed wonder how that unseen person from afar had gradually taken shelter in the very depths of her heart!
When replies to letters were delayed, she had once looked back at herself with a start long ago. She had felt hurt... she had felt hurt with that unseen, unknown person from afar. How did she gain this right? Shame, shame! What is she thinking on this auspicious day! Today she becomes a new bride in her husband's house...
"Sister, there's a phone call for you."
At her little sister's words, her heart trembled. A phone call, another phone call! Could it be Zaman? What would she say to Zaman now? But how did Zaman get her number!
"Who is it?"
"Me, Mr. E. Zaman. What's the news?"
Amazing! The man recognized her just by hearing one word!
"What? No words?"
"No, I mean after so long, did you finally remember...?"
What was this! What was she saying! Her hand holding the mobile phone trembled violently. Zaman's enthusiastic voice was floating through... "So long meaning? It's only been a few days. I was puzzled by an English 'A.' Very busy? Yes, I also set my wedding date for the same day. Even without an invitation, I'll definitely show up."
Despite her complete reluctance, she had to say, "Alright."
She had been crying all day, her eyes swollen and red. Sampa found herself inexplicably irritated by everything — the elders' commands and advice, her friends' laughter and teasing. On top of it all, the children next door had been blaring their speakers nonstop. Utterly annoying. When the groom's party arrived and the noise finally stopped, she felt a moment's relief. But soon enough, her friends' giggling and chatter resumed with twice the enthusiasm. She wanted nothing more than to cry her heart out.
During the viewing ceremony, her eyes remained closed. Suddenly, Shanta called out loudly from behind, "Mr. Atikuzzaman — I mean, Zaman saheb, are you listening? Take a good look at this moment." And she whispered near Sampa's ear, "What's wrong with you, silly girl? Don't you recognize your friend? Without seeing the formless jewel of beauty's ocean, without even knowing his full name, you're getting worked up over fragments? Good God!"
Ignoring the crowd in the next room, some mischievous boy had put on a strange, awful song. And yet, how lovely the melody sounded!