I have got a new assistant, named Susan while the current one got demoted. She came up to mix with me very soon, and something holds me towards her. It was the third day with here in my office when she saw an old picture of my parents in my purse.
“Whose picture is that?”, she asked with eagerness.
“Oh! My parents, I’ve lost them at childhood”, I replied.
At 1970, Pakistan armies had attacked our village without any warning. This made me separate from my real parents. I hardly remember what happened that time. The stories are told by Mr. Singh who’ve adopted me after the separated. He supported me until I was a man. He provided all my needs to educate myself. I saw him passed away about 4 months ago and I almost fell down at the thought that I couldn’t repay him.
The other day, my assistant didn’t show up. I had a little work with him in planning the underground segment of our latest project. So I decided to wait no longer and call him. “My mother went very ill last night. So I am with her today. I am sorry sir, I will not meet you in the evening”, she said.
Susan was like a sister to me. It is a religious duty to meet the ill one. So I made an application to get that day off. I went to meet her and when I arrived at the hospital my assistant took me to her mother.
Her mother looked very familiar to me. She got shocked at her first glance on me.
“Shawon?”, she called me by my name. She tried to sit but failed due to the ache in her back.
“My son, where did you go?”, she started weeping.
I was waiting for a moment to think what was going on.
“Come at me, I was waiting for you for so long.”
She started begging for forgiveness. Doctor came out to suggest her to have rest. She became furious and refused. She said that she lost her son in the liberation war and her husband died few years ago. She was trying to prove, she was my mother.
“Then who is Susan?”, I asked softly.
“Your younger sister.”
“This is not possible. I had no sister”, I replied.
“You do now.”