Saiful Baten Tito

 For the third time, I ignored the phone call. I didn’t pick up. Lately, even calls from familiar numbers irritate me. Talking on the phone has become an unbearable chore. The same number flashed on the screen again. I considered answering this time—perhaps I’d say, “Brother, I’m in an important meeting. Can you call me later?” But the moment I received the call, the voice on the other end uttered a name that instantly disarmed me. "Hello, Dada. This is Shishir—Shishir Adhikari from Satkhira. Adhikari Bookstore…” For a long time, I had been unconsciously searching for Shishir Adhikari’s number. I had taken it from him when we met but lost it somewhere along the way. "Namaskar, Shishir Da. How are you?" "I'm managing, Dada. And you?" "I’m well. I’m sorry—I lost your number, so I couldn’t call. Thank you for remembering me.” "Dada, I’m in Dhaka now." "Oh God! Really? Come over to my place right now. Where are you staying?...