^{@arjinarahman ©
#Bangladesh 🇧🇩}

Marie Luplau - Sunset on Fanø-1916

This is the end of the Bengali month Falgun. The light of the day is fading away. Nature itself says a peaceful goodbye, the sky turns golden. Mysterious shadows of the last rays of sun covered the village. Arohi walks on the narrow dirt path of the village at this time. The earth under her feet crunches dry. Her lost childhood is remembered by the sight of the dust under her feet of the empty fields around her.

Arohi has just came back from the city. The city had eaten up her life and even in the midst of the busy life the memories of this village and the path always took her back. Coming to the village is not just coming home for her, but also try to connect to her root.

It is much quieter there now. People's noise has diminished. The road that once smelled of Rice and had Ox carts of running now just blows dry leaves in the wind. Arohi walks down this path to her grandfather's hut which she spent her childhood on.

The hut is very old now. The thatched roof is now covered with dust. The clay house has cracks in its walls. Next to the house there is a large mango tree. Under this tree Arohi used to sit with her mother and listen to stories. This tree was planted by her mother. The tree remains, like the last memory of her childhood.

Arohi stands under the tree. In the air comes a light scent of mango flowers. She has deep emotion inside of her. The tree seems to call her. Her lungs are filled with the smell of the earth. She knelt down and puts her hand on the tree’s trunk. Tears fill her eyes. So many memories, stories, are these hiding here.

As a child a lot of happy days have been spent here by Arohi. Her father was a literate man in the village. He began a small school on his land to help the village children. It was simple but it was good. Birds existed, fields and she had her mother's songs. Everything changed over time. The villagers moved to the city. That small school is now closed.

Obviously Arohi knows why the villagers left. Jobs, education and a better future are provided by the city. Arohi could never adapt at the bustling urban area. It suffocated her in these office, traffic, and buildings. She could not find the smell of the earth or the quiet nature much less the breeze in the city.

She then gets up and looks at the dried up canal next to the house. At one time this canal was the life line of the village. They fetch the water and the boys caught fish. Now the canal is empty, full of plastic and trash. It appeared that nature has been hurt. The soil of this village still calls her.

Arohi sits in the yard and looks at the sky. The moon had risen and the stars shone. It brings her peacefulness as she lays there listening to the cool night air. The village is part of her soul. The fast city, tall buildings couldn’t gave comfort her much. This village provide her roots,her identity, the smell of the earth, the silence of nature to her soul.

Arohi takes a deep breath. For a second she can hear her mother singing a song. She slowly gets up and walks into the house. She thinks she might never go back to the city. This village, in the embrace of nature is real home to her.

I invite following users for the contest
@chiquitin
@carmari
@vonnaputra

Here is: Contest Link .
Organized by @solperez Ma'am.