It was the time, while most people were having an 'American Dream' styled celebration which might distract the needy to have been persuaded by it. The people from lowest class were happy due to the joy and love that makes even little moments more touching. The highest society of people might show themselves to be overjoyed, hence, the deeper you explore, the circumstance might be an unpleasant experience. However, people cannot predict the consequences. If the expectations do not turn into reality, they stay with the utmost disappointment of the youngsters, lead themselves to take some unusual steps. Steps prohibited by the communal laws and in the religious texts.
Hence, the middle ones were quite calculative, and at the same time, demanding for the wealthiest individuals. The scattered city of Dhaka, while on the one side, the skyscrapers, to the other, the slums and the last, the building of only five stories, that would be the home to those who may be joyous but also be unpleasant while in odd situations. The streets that were on the surface, had small markets selling varieties of fruits or vegetables. The markets that were on the streets were made from brown sacks that were supported by dried bamboos kept standing on the ground. Some shops even had tin shades rather than the brown cloth. The fresh, organic fruits and vegetables were displayed, as most of the clients from the neighborhood were buying from the fruit and grocery stalls.
The lights, scattered with the lamp posts and the students were hanging out at the tea stall. The shop had a long bench on the outside where young adults in their 20s and teenagers trying to act like they were older were having tea, while laughing on their own inside jokes, most people would be later familiar with this. The tin shade might be the outside while the white-painted brick walls secured the frequent raining cats and dogs. The street dogs howling at the superstition that raves by the people of the intellectuals, never believing in ghosts, or any other entities such as time travel or dimensions creating a CHAOS! The streets were wet due to the rain, and a short, thin, stout, young man, was strolling on the footpath, while the cars were moving on the mud that splashed on his hooded leather jacket. He might take cover in his hood, but his face seemed dark and most of his features of a typical handsome men in the city. He was a teenager, maybe sixteen, seventeen?
His thoughts seemed jaded and not letting his mind be his usual self, distracting him from almost everything. His bag on his back always reminded him of his own work, in his High school. Family pressure, peer pressure, all of it never mattered to him. Until, he gets personally triggered. He has his own problems such as focusing on oneself, no motivation and the courage of a mouse. He reached to his apartment of a home two story high, decorated with the walls of old and rich colors. He walked to the staircase, old and damaged in the walls, and had wooden railing and the colors were on sky blue wallpapers. The adolescent slowly stepped upstairs to the second floor on with a light wooden door with a name plate written as:
"RAHAT KARIM
SABEDA BEGUM KARIM"
Rahat Karim was our protagonist's father, who used to work as a senior journalist in a newspaper press. You could say, from the mental health section. Ironically, he didn't even care for his son. He was extremely self-centered and was basically what you would call a narcissist. Sabeda Karim, still traumatized by her brother's passing, who died in cancer fifteen years ago. She thought about her daughter, but her son? It was critical. On the other hand, the only supporting source was his sister, Abeda, who was just fifteen while Jawad was just 2 years older than her.
Abeda might be fifteen, craving for education and wanted to be a journalist just like her mother. Who until some time ago still was one, until Abeda's uncle was shot in one of the cases, which as eventually solved by her father, Rahat. It was actually, searching on the entertainment mafia who killed some of the outsiders, especially the talented ones. Since, the death of Sabeda's brother, the part of Jawad's childhood had been numbed and unenthusiastic.
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The Third Dimension (2023) #Wattys2024
Science FictionThe story that is told, is a story that is close to my heart. As I am telling this story during my quarantined times, may it be odd but it is a story about Karim Jawad, or else, different names they prefer in other dimensions. He has a jaded phase a...