Asif slaps his face for his own stupidity.
'Even if my life's not worth living, my sister's is. What would happen to her if I die?... I'm such an idiot.'
Asif was eight when his parents died. They didn't own a home or leave any inheritance. His parents had struggled just to feed them.
At first, people showed sympathy at the funeral. But as money ran out, their true colors showed. Even relatives acted like strangers.
They were kicked out of their rented home and lived on the streets for days until Asif started doing manual labor. His perseverance and quick learning skills eventually secured them a shanty in the slums—barely stable, but shelter.
Even after years of struggle, he never let his younger sister work outside. Partly out of overprotectiveness, partly because they lived where even 10-year-old girls got raped.
"I'll be there in a bit."
Asif brushes his teary eyes with his palms. The past always makes him weak, but to survive the present, he has to make himself strong.
He approaches Ayra with a smile. Seeing her arrange plates on the table, he walks over silently and hugs her.
"Ayraaa! Did you forgive your brother for not bringing chocolate? I promise I won't forget tomorrow."
"Get your hands off me, you perv!" Ayra protests, her face flushing. "I'm already fourteen—don't treat me like a child!"
Asif doesn't reply, just kisses her forehead and sits at their "dinner table"—a worm-eaten table propped against the wall.
'I was blinded by love. My sister has to live all day surrounded by these cracked walls, and here I am, chasing after a skirt I'll never get.'
When both of them sit on the bench, it starts shaking. Without warning, the bench collapses onto the brick floor.
"Ayra, did you get hurt? Let me check."
"Don't worry bro, it's okay. Just a scratch."
When Asif looks carefully, he notices her hand is twisted - probably from landing on it.
"What's okay? You're clearly injured. You might've even broken your hand."
Ayra looks away from Asif, trying not to cry while forcing her mouth to stay silent.
'She's far stronger than me. I cried over rejection, while she won't even whimper with a broken hand.'
The hardened look on his sister's face makes Asif want to cry.
"Brother, let's eat first. You haven't even eaten breakfast today."
"Okay, but let me feed you, okay?"
She doesn't protest this time, though the shy look remains. The meal is nothing special - just plain rice, lentils, mashed potatoes, and salad. Most ingredients were bought cheaply from leftover groceries, especially on Thursday evenings when shopkeepers clear their shelves.
Ayra chews silently. She doesn't complain, not about her injury nor the meager food. She cooked it herself, though Asif bought the ingredients.
While feeding her, Asif notices her swollen joints. 'Her hand's swelling up. She needs treatment. I have to get medicine.'
After feeding Ayra and eating some himself, Asif goes to his room. 'There should be emergency money here. Enough for treatment.' In reality, he only has 150 taka ($1.20) - worthless during this inflation crisis.
"How much did you say?"
"400 Tk."
Asif is in a helpless situation. He came to buy medicine for his sister, but the price is too high for him.
"Can't you give me a discount?"
"I already gave you a 35 Tk discount."
"Can you change those meds with a cheap one?" he said with a wry smile.
The shopkeeper sighed, "It's the cheapest one. You came to a shop where only cheap meds are available."
The store is located at the entrance of the slum. Its condition is barely any better than the home Asif dwells in.
Clenching his fist, Asif said, "I only have 150 Tk. Can you sell them on credit?"
With a sympathetic look, the shopkeeper said, "I understand your situation, boy. But I'm just an employee working here, so I can't.
You should borrow money from your friends or relatives."
Asif sighs and leaves the shop.
______
"What? We came here not to work but to borrow money? What do you think of me? A tree of cash? I'm warning you again. If you skip another day without notice, I'll fire you."
Asif came to his employer to ask for some money, only to be scolded harshly. With a weak voice, he says—
"But sir, I've worked half the month. Can't you give me half a month's salary?"
"Do you think you can get salary whenever you please? You'll get it only after working a month. Ask me for money again and I'll kick you out of here."
With a slight bow, Asif leaves the place.
He works here tirelessly, almost full-time, but on payday he only gets the pay of a half-timer—barely 8,000 Tk (70 USD). Even then, he doesn't get the entire amount: lunch fee, skipping fine, labour union fee, or some tax he doesn't even know—he gets around 6,500 Tk at best. By no means enough to cover the expenses of two people, but he has to.
______
"Sorry, man. I'm short on money this month. You know my parents. They always send just enough to survive."
"It's okay." Asif leaves with a light smile.
_____
"Sorry, bro."
"Get lost."
"I'm short on money myself."
.......
Replies may be polite or not—the meaning is all the same.
They won't lend money, even though it's just 250 Tk. But the spirit of Asif didn't break from all this. He goes door to door like some beggar.
_________
"Sir, may I know the time by your watch?"
"9:12." Despite feeling disgusted by his appearance, the gentleman replied and left hurriedly.
"Thank you." Asif bows, despite knowing the gentleman won't notice. After the entire day, bowing has become his major habit.
With a heavy heart, he walks around aimlessly.
Life has already taught him a lot, but he has to keep learning.
He has friends, co-workers—but in times of need, there's none by his side.
He wants to hide and cry like a kid, but the face of his injured sister flashes before him.
"You seem to be going through a lot, kid."
A voice—perhaps the voice of the devil—reaches his ear, only to notice a man with long hair approaching him.
"I saw you begging all those times. You looked so pathetic," he starts laughing.
Asif takes the insult lightly, like it's a common reaction, and says with a smile—
"May I assume you wish to help this poor soul, sir?"
"There's no free money, kid."
So he just wanted to mock me... huh!
"Sell these things first. You might earn far more money than you need."
With shock, Asif takes the small package and notices the white substance he's all too familiar with.
_________
The dim light amidst the darkness is visible from afar. It shines like a candle battling against the wind.
"You've come just in time. I was thinking about shutting the store. So, did you get the money somewhere?"
Without answering, Asif puts down a 500 Tk note.
The shopkeeper finds his behaviour strange but doesn't bother about it. Quickly, he hands over the medicine, bandage, and 100 Tk change.
"I hope your sister gets well."
Asif takes the pack and leaves the store in silence, acting like a deaf guy.
The cold winter wind gives his hair a slight pat. The stoic, clueless expression on his face is vaguely visible.
Some drug addicts lie on the street like coma patients, just like any other night. But the scene before him makes Asif doom into an abyss of regret.
______
Just when Asif is about to knock, the door opens by itself, revealing a young girl with tears in her eyes. She hugs him without warning.
"Brother, you came. I was so worried. Stupid brother, why did you stay out all night?"
Asif is about to say something but notices the wounded hand of Ayra.
The joint has swollen like a big balloon with a light red color.
"Let's treat your wounds first. I've brought some medicine for you."
—
Ayra tries her best not to cry, but the pain in her hand is determined anyway.
"You'll feel some pain at first, but it's going to help you heal afterwards. You can handle this much pain, can't you, my dear?"
Asif shows brotherly affection while bandaging her.
"Make sure to take the medicine as the pharmacy guy instructed."
Well, for the poor folk, the pharmacy guy himself is the doctor. The little knowledge he has is enough for minor diseases. Anything more severe than that? Sorry — they can't afford it.
The government can spend millions of dollars on defense or paramilitary.
But for essential healthcare? Sorry — they don't have enough money to "waste."
"Where did you get the money, brother? We shouldn't have much left."
"Oh! I just... took this month's salary early. You don't have to worry about that."
Asif says in a shaky voice.
"All done. Make sure to get yourself a nice sleep."
Ayra pouts.
"Can't you sleep with your sister?"
"Ah!..."