Backu o Baba

Backul (Blacky>Backy>Backul) kal ekta chhoto kukur chhana ke akarane merechhe. Khubi anyay. Aaami chhilam na jakhan ghatana ti ghote. Baba, Sree Sourya Deb ghatonar protyokkho dorshee chhilen. Aami bari ferar por amake janiyechhen Backul er uttorottor berey othha dourattwer katha. Aami kichhui bolte/ bokte paarini, karon (shambhoboto) aporaadh bodhe kal Backul bari fere ni. Aaj shey abar gechhe Baba'r kachhe, dupurer khabarer aabdare. Takhan Baba taake bokechhen. Ei taar nidorshon.
Lyaj naarar speed dekhe amar onumaan Backul khubi anutapto.

"Bhagye khoka chhilo ma er shathe..."

Oi je doore kheen, asposhto, lyajbishishto oboyob ti dekha jay, kalponar obhaabe or naam, or gayer rong er shathe miliye Blacky rekhechhi. Adorer daaknaam Backy. Anyodin ei shamaye backy or dui bondhur sathe para beray, beral taaray, hullor kore.
Kintu aj Backyr baba, orofe Sourya Deb kaje atke gechhen. Raat hobe, nao firte paren. Tai backy aj beral taarate jay ni; amake aagle rakhte beerangana roop dharon korechhe. Kato bipad na achhe ~ doshyur bhoy, tar cheye bhoy, kakhan tiktiki orey!

Seems just like yesterday. Or, does it?
I can distinctly recollect what the real yesterday felt like, and it was nothing like that day which suddenly feels so near me, that I call it yesterday.
So close, it seems like I could turn around and see it unfold in all its vividly minute details. Like I could reach out and clasp it like moonbeams in my palm: such is its pulsating tactility.
Perhaps, its just that, all the years, months, minutes and moments that stood between that day and today, seemed to have closed in~almost collapsed~like the flaps of a piano accordion.