Reflection Of Life

Chapter : 11 - Back to life

It was true that dealing with a stupid disease was not good at all, still, Fariha did try to be as productive as she could be, and some of her efforts bore fruit as well. The two stories written on sickbed got published, which brought her quite an amount of fame amongst her short niche of readers. The magazine she wrote for was a widely recognized one. Fariha wanted to take up either journalism or teaching as her career, neither of which were not so easy to reach.


She was on a field trip to collect information for a certain feature she was assigned to write next month. The soft rays of the winter sun played on her skin, creating colors of the rainbow when she moved her arms. She could walk as fast as she wanted to, dressed in the blue shadow jeans and a black knee-length cotton top. Along with a few of her amateur journalist colleagues, she strode past the shabby houses one by one. Some of her co-workers avoided working in the slum areas, but she enjoyed doing photo features in that area. Being with the under privileged reminded her of her own blessings. Even a very cheap chocolate bar would bring a smile on those faces.


Sheltered inside tin shaded houses with plastics working as walls, the low income population would try to survive. Slums were one of the main residences for hotel helpers, peons, or part time domestic helpers.

There were other types of people too, like auto rickshaw or cycle rickshaw drivers.


Some people could be seen filling up washing lines with washed clothes, which still smelled of lemon, a common fragrance of detergents. Some children tried to concentrate on their studies. Women were chatting, thronged around one of their homes, oiling each other’s hair, or looking for a particular disgusting insect in the jungle of tangled hair.


The occasional hit of the unpleasant moist smell of mud did not stop the group of inquisitive young people. Fariha, along with her team walked gently past curious half nude children with their cameras, capturing significant scenes. “The consumers of inferior goods” was a suggested title for that particular photo feature. Fariha replied to all the hellos, waves and smiles appropriately, dropping a piece of candy or two on eager little palms, or maybe a five taka coin. The innocent smiles of gratitude made them smile too.

After about two hours, they had enough snaps to fill up the allotted spaces of the magazine. All of them had various fruits and dry snacks stuffed in their backpacks, which saved them from the expense of eating out. They liked fast food, but small snacks felt better when on the run.

By the time she got back home from her little office, drops of sweat formed on her forehead, even her top was soaked in sweat, thanks to the generous amount of walking.


“Hey, all wet? You need a long shower dear!” Her mother’s suggestion seemed most appropriate. A chilled jug of lemonade looked inviting; Fariha gulped down two glasses despite the extreme cold.


“Hey careful, that will harm your voice little singer!” Monir warned.


“It’s wise to drink cold at times, Abbu, don’t worry, I’m strong enough, it won’t do anything Insha Allah (God Willing).”


Fariha set off for a warm shower. Nothing could be more refreshing than warm water and pomegranate shower gel after a hard day’s work. She preferred to prepare her own aroma therapy with rose petals in the bathtub, and jasmine scented candles to create a nice atmosphere in what seemed like one of the most unpleasant rooms of a house, the bathroom.

Chemistry and Biology were two of Fariha’s most favorite subjects. Chemicals, especially reactions, fascinated her. Moreover, she was always curious to know about the mysteries of the human body and other living beings. But despite being a favorite, Chemistry was a very tricky subject, which obstructed the path of getting anything above a normal B+. Thank heavens she could make up with the other subjects.


It was very hard to maintain a balance between hobbies, job and studies, but where there was a will, there was always a way. She would prepare a “To do” list according to importance, and would finish everything one by one, with moderate breaks in between.

Parveen would keep on giving her daughter snacks after every three hours. No matter how much a child eats, he or she would always look thin to his or her mother. Though she does not like it, Fariha sometimes had to eat extra rice at lunch just to satisfy her mother. A cup of tea was a must after lunch, as rice made her drowsy.
Traditional dance was not something she could perform, but she liked watching it on TV. Sometimes even instrumental music soothed her ears. At times, she would even compose tunes of her own. Music was her own world away from the real world.


Even at times, she would just sit on her exercise cycle lost in thoughts. That might not seem normal for a teenage girl, but sometimes she just locked herself in her room for about thirty minutes or so, either practicing music, or writing her own online journal. Blogging allowed her writings to be displayed to a very wide audience across the globe, so blogging always was a better option over keeping a normal diary.

Of course, she hardly forgot her regular mother-daughter walks in the park. The Periwinkles seemed livelier than ever. Citrus butterflies flew from one petal to the other. Those naughty little insects were seriously difficult to catch.

Sometimes she would just take a piece of bread for the permanent unpaid guard of that place, a red skinned native puppy, along with his parents. The dogs would devour it ravenously. In return, the animals worked as her escort if it became too dark. The three dogs would follow her home, and then return to their usual place after she got into the house. Even Fariha’s parents always kept a little treat ready for her animal friends at their doorstep.

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