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“I want to be a writer.” My little one announced. The immediate response of his father was, “I will not invest on your studies, then. What do you say? “These days I am striving to learn big words, increase the vocabulary list. And at the end of the day, I am feeling like I am passing my last days and nights. These days are too slow, too painful. I was a shy, introvert kid, probably I still am. After passing all moments of discussions, mutual understanding, I realized often times that I forgot to ask the most important question; and it is too late, now. I have tremendous trouble in doing eye-contact. Always feel like I am an open book in front of those scrutinizing pair of eyes. I am continuous in giving credit to a tremendously powerful opponent. It is not helping at all, not at all. Old memories softly pour on, like a softer tune, like a softer light. “You have your math test today, get up, quickly!” my mother softly tried to wake me up one day. A long-forgotten moment. I woke up, paused for a moment, and told my mother,” My name is Tamanna Ferdous.” She was surprised, obviously. “Why are you telling me, this? “She is gone, long time ago. Still feel like sometimes, I am telling my name to surprise her, again and again and again. That poor math test taker and that math test!

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