When school was over, I returned home and found her as heavily busy as she was before. She had no time even to have a look at me. But I was losing my patience. I decided to teach my mother a lesson for ignoring me.

I fled to Daria Nodi the nearest river. I sat there on the bank all day long counting waves. I was listening to the rustle of the leaves (of a Chatim tree) over my head and cluttering of bamboos clustering alongside and looking at surges of paddy fields made by strong winds. I saw the sky smeared with black cloud rain was due.

I felt strongly to go back home. But my ego was so overwhelming…

I was losing my strength. I could not resist having a look at the way behind me that might take me back home easily. All of a sudden, I saw my father in front of me with a stick in his hand.

My father hurt me on my back with his stick only once. I must remember that I was never beaten by my father before or after that day.

However, my father caught me by my hand not by ears as usually done by the guardians and pulled me straight to the way home giving me a chance to weep. He did not scold me not even a word.

My father entered into the room still holding my hand. The meal was ready there. White boiled rice with milk and mango juice. A meal that was not even available in heaven! I was fed by my father. I ate to my heart's content. I felt my mother was standing alongside the open door watching me with tears in her eyes not having her meal yet.