August 5, 2024
4:55 a.m.
Anushka makes herself breathe. Once, twice. A few more times. The faint sound of distant miking fills her room. Fajr? No, that was a while ago. It’s starting to get brighter outside. Blindly, she reaches out for the phone to check on one of her friends. On second thought, she hits dial.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey, you.” Anushka lays her head back. “I can’t type.”
“It’s okay.” Faiyaz keeps his voice deliberately calm, as he always does in a crisis. Anushka can hear the nerves anyway, but the effort should count for something. “Any news of Saif?”
“Got taken into the operating theatre a while ago. The bullet went through his arm.” Anushka gulps. “He lost a lot of blood.”
They both take a while, two friends letting their hearts calm down from the sheer terror of almost losing the third. Anushka pulls the drapes away from her window and looks out, watching the east get brighter by the minute. Looks like a calm day. Making herself get up, she walks over to the other side of the house, then opens the door to the balcony that overlooks the runway.
“I hear helicopters,” she says quietly, then looks up. “I hope it rains today.”
“Would be fun.”
“When are you going out?” She asks Faiyaz, making herself believe that this is the calmest her heart can get for now, and pulls out a notepad. “Deets. How many of you are in the group, estimated route, timing.”
Faiyaz fills her in with the information while she writes the details down. In the end, it probably won’t be a lot of help having all this information, but it’ll have to do—if only to make her feel like she was being useful. Anushka rechecks her saved lists of hospital contacts, lawyers, and families.
“Faiyaz, did you set the wallpaper?”
“Not yet, dost.”
“Do.” Anushka pulls up a sample she saved earlier from Facebook. “Your name, institution, blood group, two emergency numbers.”
“Okay,” Faiyaz types away. “I’m putting your number in with Ammu. If something happens… you let everyone else know. Tithi, and others.”
Anushka’s voice shakes just the slightest bit before she says, “Okay.”
They fall into silence again. The noise of helicopters grows louder overhead. Anushka does her usual drill, confirming people who would go out, reaffirming that her place is a safe zone should anyone need to drop by, checking for updates on Facebook. She hangs up with Faiyaz after a while, sending him off to get ready. She has to get ready too; she has her plans. Comfy clothes, a shrug with pockets big enough to fit a small knife, and some cards. Her phone. Her broken umbrella. And to add a finishing touch, her father’s old cap with the BAF logo on it. When done, Anushka calls Faiyaz again. She’d have to let someone know.
“You ready?”
“Almost. Waiting for my friends to prep.”
“Okay.” Anushka takes a breath. “I’m going out.”
“What?”
“Just a surveillance run. I’ll get as close as I can to Gonobhobon, then stroll back.”
“Nushka, no.” The rarely used older brother tone of Faiyaz starts booming out with each word.
“I’ll be safe.”
“You’re alone. They already shot people at Shahid Minar.”
“Dost, I’ll be safe.”
“Nushka, so help me god…”
“Listen, I have a plan, okay? I’ll go through the officers’ mess, through the residential area. Shishmohol is right up near the Gonobhobon. The whole street from here to there is being patrolled by BAF soldiers, and I’ve Abbu’s card with me, and his cap on me. The worst that can happen is they’ll stop me and send me back. This is as safe as it gets, Faiyaz.”
Faiyaz calms down. “Be back soon.”
“Soon.” Anushka looks out one last time. “It’s morning already.”
“Yeah.”
“I always love this part of the day. This, and sunset.”
“Very original, Nushka.”
Anushka laughs a bit, surprising herself. She forgot she’s capable of doing that. “I know, but it’s not just the view. It’s the transition. Night into day. Soft and slow. It’s not like turning the light on and bam, you know?”
“Yeah.” Faiyaz walks out to his own balcony, runs his finger over the bend on the rail where the bullet hit a couple of days ago. “Something’s gonna happen today. Feels like it.”
“Something good, we hope.”
“We hope.”
“Gotta go, dost.” Anushka pulls on her shoes. “Catch you in a bit.”
~*~
8:15 a.m.
“Sreshtha?”
“Sreshtha, up.”
Sreshtha jerks awake from her sleep. Was she sleeping? When did she fall asleep? The clutching terror returns to her body with sheer speed, grasping hold around her lungs like tentacles. She looks up, disoriented, at her younger sister Afia. Was she… did she look worried? What happened? Where’s…
“Saif bhai is out of OT.”
It takes her a while to process that. Afia speaks impatiently, “His mom called. He’s stable. He’s in post-op.”
“Is he… did they…” Inconvenient time for her lungs to decide not to let her breathe, Sreshtha thinks distantly. She has to know.
“He’s safe.” Afia, who has barely ever spent an hour in her life being nice to her elder sister, stoops down to run her fingers through Sreshtha’s hair. “He’s safe, the doctors said. It’s just going to take a while to heal, and then they’ll say more.”
“What more?”
“I’m not sure. Here, do you want to talk to Nushkapu?”
Anushka. That name sounds like salvation, as it always has in crises—through their seven years of on-again, off-again friendship. Sreshtha blindly reaches out for her phone. When she hears the familiar “Hey, you,” all she can do is let the insane whirlpool of tears and fear finally blow out.
Anushka lets her cry it out. She’s just happy they’re both alive, Saif and Sreshtha. Not that Anushka is a big believer in all things romantic, but she truly, deeply believes Saif and Sreshtha were made for each other.
If something went wrong… she shakes off the chills.
When Sreshtha calms down a bit, Anushka fills her in about the doctor’s details. Saif is safe. Stable. Not back yet. He might… might lose the use of his right hand, at least partially.
Sreshtha listens, processes. Then asks, “How do YOU know all that?”
She can hear Anushka smile through the phone. “Eh, I found out.”
“No, seriously, Nushka. How?”
“Someone at the hospital. Abbu knows them. I asked him to look into it.”
As casually as that is said, Sreshtha knows it had to be, given Anushka’s father—a big deal. So she says, quietly, “Thank you.”
“Don’t. I’m sorry.”
She better be, Sreshtha thinks. And she is. Anushka is. She spent the entire time Saif was missing going over and over her last conversation with Sreshtha. Argument, more like. Sreshtha didn’t want him to join the protests anymore. It was getting more dangerous out there every day—hell, it was getting dangerous at home. After the second time police raided Saif’s apartment, Sreshtha put her foot down. She wouldn’t let him go.
“I have to,” Saif told Anushka. “Can you please make her see that? I have to, Anushka, there’s nothing else to it.”
There wasn’t, Anushka knew. There still isn’t. So she pushed Sreshtha. Told her she was being selfish, told her there were things that were bigger than this, us.
All that logic went right out the window about 12 hours ago when Saif went missing. Now, even though Anushka knows they’ll all go back to the streets again, she’s sorry. Truly sorry. Maybe if Saif listened and stayed he wouldn’t…
“It’s okay.” Sreshtha fills in the silence. “He’s okay. That’s all that matters. I’ll take care of him.” She takes a breath. “What are you doing?”
“Cooking. Breakfast. Gotta stay fed for the day.”
“How’s Faiyaz?”
“Good. Shaken. Determined, though.”
“Anything happening at Uttara today?”
“Things happening everywhere, tbh. It’s Long March, Sreshtha.” Anushka checks her phone. “Faiyaz says he’s keeping updates. Whenever Uttara people feel safe enough to go out. It’s crowded with APCs right about now.”
“Some people already got shot.”
Anushka knows. She makes a hmm noise, letting it pass. Sensing what Sreshtha will say.
“What’s your plan?”
“For now, surveillance. And dealing with the funds. About…” She checks the phone, “57k and counting, as of now. Gotta deal with distributing this. Then,” Anushka makes her voice deliberately casual, “when the Shahid Minar procession heads for Gonobhobon, I’ll head out.”
“Do you have to?”
“Yes.”
Sreshtha knows that “yes.” She has known that “yes” for years. There’s no changing that “yes” to even a “maybe.” And honestly, she doesn’t have the energy to, she thinks, stifling a yawn.
“Go to sleep,” Anushka says.
“I’ve been sleeping.”
“Sleep again. Saif needs more time before he can talk or meet. I’ll let you know if there’s any updates. Abbu is keeping an eye on it.”
Sreshtha sighs. “Be safe.”
Anushka has hung up already.
Instead of sleeping, Sreshtha gets up from the bed, realizing she’s really thirsty. Even though it’s only been shy of 12 hours since Saif went missing, it feels to Sreshtha like a lifetime has passed since she has seen the sun. So she pulls back her drapes, letting the sunbeams make their way to her floor. It’s like a strange morning. Nothing SEEMS out of the ordinary, but there’s something. Sreshtha leans in over her window rail. Something… electric. Like a held breath waiting for something to happen.
No, Sreshtha changes her mind as the faint noise of mass people chanting starts sounding out from a distance. No, it started already, whatever is going to happen. This would be a slow transition, and as the crowd starts getting louder, Sreshtha feels a reluctant yet irresistible smile creep up her face.
The transition has started. All they have to wait for is to watch it end in triumph.
Leave a Reply