My long journey in this O level vacation has been to Shatkhira, with my family.We were a tight knot of thirteen people( scary number for any journey!).The journey was divided into two almost equal segments.The first segment saw us travelling for gross 5 hours, with our backs lazily glued to the seats of the air conditioned bus.They telecasted some dramas, which turned out to be our savior in this long and utterly boring journey.We stopped for an hour in a relative's house in Jessore and prepared for our second leg of the journey.At that time, we were unaware of the monster that was waiting, cunningly, for us.We started our journey to Shatkhira,which would eventually take a painful 4 hour,in a microbus.We were crammed, sweating, and miserable.And suddenly, after travelling roughly for 5 minute, I find myself flying, my body parts threatening to come off, my muscles trying to tear off from my bones, and all because of the horrendous condition of the road.
There were frequent times when I thought the car was plummeting down a ditch, or straining up a mountain; such was the condition of the road. With our ligaments extensively tested and retested, we limped off the bus,to our indescribable savor, and find ourself standing in front of a towering duplex building, a guest house of the Shushilon Organisation, who were our humble host. It was a magnificent white structure, enclosed by rows of emerald green trees, and neat hedges which were,for some reason, glistening mystically. The front of the house was guarded by a rectangular pond, just like ancient times, when ditches were used to protect a castle.
The real journey began the next day.Sorry for all those useless crap above.I was just testing my descriptive writing style.I'm good eh? Kay, no more crap.The next morning, we were literally pushed and plucked out of our beds at early morning. We went, half sleeping,half drooling, to the spot from where we would board the trawler, which would inject us into the heart of the green mythology of Bangladesh, the Shundarbans. We jogged to see the trawler, all smiling and boisterous, almost skipping like school girls. The trawler came into view, and......OMG! It's sinking! Isn't it? Oh wait, its rising again....what the? It took us the full portion of a minute to grasp the scenario and moreover, the challenge that was towering in front of us,mocking sadistically. The trawler was actually swaying due to the current, and the degree of the inclination was so much that we thought it was sinking.The degree was almost 30 to 40 degrees minimum, and we were expected to board onto it, by jumping from the cliff,against which it was bound.
I stepped forward.The last classes of swimming etched little streaks of courage into me. Throwing my sandles on board, I inched forward, the eldritch mud arranging a conspiracy to take my balance off! With a leap of faith, I soared on board.Well, I actually jumped a little bit, but I felt I was flying.Emotions were notched up a bit in me after my heroic act; seeing me triumph, others soon scampered behind me.
The trawler's engine was gunned on, the blades frantically trying to bully its way through the thick waves.The Kolpetuya River was angry, that was for sure.But soon, we were snaking our way into the belly of the Sundarbans.......
There were frequent times when I thought the car was plummeting down a ditch, or straining up a mountain; such was the condition of the road. With our ligaments extensively tested and retested, we limped off the bus,to our indescribable savor, and find ourself standing in front of a towering duplex building, a guest house of the Shushilon Organisation, who were our humble host. It was a magnificent white structure, enclosed by rows of emerald green trees, and neat hedges which were,for some reason, glistening mystically. The front of the house was guarded by a rectangular pond, just like ancient times, when ditches were used to protect a castle.
The real journey began the next day.Sorry for all those useless crap above.I was just testing my descriptive writing style.I'm good eh? Kay, no more crap.The next morning, we were literally pushed and plucked out of our beds at early morning. We went, half sleeping,half drooling, to the spot from where we would board the trawler, which would inject us into the heart of the green mythology of Bangladesh, the Shundarbans. We jogged to see the trawler, all smiling and boisterous, almost skipping like school girls. The trawler came into view, and......OMG! It's sinking! Isn't it? Oh wait, its rising again....what the? It took us the full portion of a minute to grasp the scenario and moreover, the challenge that was towering in front of us,mocking sadistically. The trawler was actually swaying due to the current, and the degree of the inclination was so much that we thought it was sinking.The degree was almost 30 to 40 degrees minimum, and we were expected to board onto it, by jumping from the cliff,against which it was bound.
I stepped forward.The last classes of swimming etched little streaks of courage into me. Throwing my sandles on board, I inched forward, the eldritch mud arranging a conspiracy to take my balance off! With a leap of faith, I soared on board.Well, I actually jumped a little bit, but I felt I was flying.Emotions were notched up a bit in me after my heroic act; seeing me triumph, others soon scampered behind me.
The trawler's engine was gunned on, the blades frantically trying to bully its way through the thick waves.The Kolpetuya River was angry, that was for sure.But soon, we were snaking our way into the belly of the Sundarbans.......
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