গাছ বাবা

 দিশারী পাব্লিক লাইব্রেরির সাহিত্য সংকলন "ধ্বনি"তে প্রকাশিত ছোট গল্প " গাছ বাবা " অডিও রূপে প্রকাশ করলাম আমার নতুন চ্যানেলে 

কেমন লাগলো মতামত জানাবেন ...

Fear : a micro fiction

Daddy’s shoes 👞

 

As a kid, I loved wearing Dad’s tan Oxford boots that were part of his Indian Police Service uniform and walking around the front verandah, where the shoe rack lived—outside shoes are not allowed indoors in my culture.

Growing up, I’ve realized it is not easy to be a father.

Those boots weren’t just leather and polish every day. They were long hours, quiet authority, and the weight of decisions he carried home without words. They were standing straight even when tired, choosing duty over comfort, and love expressed more through presence than praise.

Back then, I only felt their heaviness on my feet.

Now I understand the heaviness he carried every day—so I could walk freely, pretending to be him, not knowing how much of him was already walking ahead of me.

Why Pride Slips When Love Arrives

Pride is a spine—

Straight, deliberate, practiced.

It teaches you how to stand alone,

How to keep your name intact

Even when the wind insists otherwise.

Love asks you to bend.

Not in surrender,

But in offering—

Your throat exposed to the truth,

Your carefully folded dignity

Left on the chair like a coat

You forgot to pick up.

In love,

You want to be chosen

More than you want to be right.

You rehearse silence.

You forgive early.

You shrink the ache so it fits

Inside a smile.

Pride wants symmetry—

Equal effort, equal ground,

A ledger that balances at night.

Love is terrible at accounting.

It overpays.

It tips too much.

It stays even when

The music has already stopped.

You say you’ll walk away.

You don’t.

You say you deserve better.

You wait.

Because love teaches a dangerous math:

That being seen

Is worth being unarmored,

That losing face

Is sometimes the price

Of keeping a heart.

And maybe that’s why it’s hard—

Not because pride is weak,

But because love is a brave,

Reckless act

That asks you to choose connection

Over control.

Pride keeps you whole.

Love risks breaking you open.

And still—

You lean in.

গাছ বাবা - ছোট গল্প

বাকি গল্পটা আপনি পাবেন "ধ্বনি" তে।

দিশারী পাবলিক লাইব্রেরির সাহিত্য সংকলন "ধ্বনি" --

জানুয়ারি ২৮ কলকাতা বইমেলায় মোড়ক উন্মোচন। 

প্রাপ্তিস্থান : 

কলকাতা বইমেলায় - কমলিনী স্টলে। 

এছাড়া : 

কলকাতা, কলেজ স্ট্রিটে - দে'জ পাবলিশিং

বাংলাদেশ - বাতিঘর 

মার্কিন যুক্তরাষ্ট্র - www.bookmaniac.com 

পাওয়া যাবে সানফ্রান্সিস্কো, কলকাতা এবং ঢাকায়। ধ্বনির মোড়ক উন্মোচনের দিনক্ষণ জানার জন্য ফলো করুন দিশারী পাবলিক লাইব্রেরির পেইজ। 

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The Neon Rain

 

Nyra stood on the skybridge, purple hair darkened by the drizzle. Below her, traffic streamed like veins of light, autonomous cars gliding in obedient lines. Holographic billboards flickered faces and promises she had learned to ignore. 

She held the shard—thin, translucent, alive with scrolling glyphs. Not glass. Not quite data either. Memory.

The shard pulsed once, recognizing her biometrics, then unfolded a truth the city had buried.

Nyra Vale had been designed to forget.

***

Want to read more? 

In memories of Spring

Spring is not a miracle; it is a certainty. It arrives because life moves in cycles. Because endings are never absolute. 

No hardship is final, no darkness permanent. What feels like an endless winter is only a passage, and growth is already on its way. Even when the world is bare, and breath feels heavy, the earth is preparing to bloom again.