Stop, move, stop. It is just another Thursday morning at Tejgaon, the intersection leading to Bijoy Sarani is jampacked. They say there was previously a tower here, Rangs Tower, a corporate monument surely. They razed it to the ground and made a flyover, connecting the two main arteries of Dhaka city. Alleviate the traffic. Did it though?
Move, slow down, halt.
Amena doesn't care. Flyovers bring in more traffic and create more congestion. Congestion feeds her stomach.
Move, slow down, halt.
Hundreds of cars are stuck at the intersection. Amena looks at a Hyundai Tuscon, the price of which she can only imagine. How much of Amena's daily meal is that one Tuscon worth? Probably a lifetime of panta bhat.
Move, slow down, halt.
Amena approaches the vehicle and starts rubbing the window with a towel. Will clean the black tainted glass she thinks. People inside, please show mercy.
Moveeee
The intersection opens and the Tuscon screeches away. Amena thinks, what a rat head. Time to find some other merciful. To Amena, the most merciful, after God, is a person offering 10 taka to open the window.
Slow down, halt.
Amena's friends are standing on the divider, holding the yellow stuff in their hands. Amena immediately understands it's time, hopefully, there are no Police around. The cops are busy at the intersection, holding down some bikers.
Move, slow down, halt.
Everyone says, don't take this stuff much. It will kill you slowly. Huh, Amena thinks, the person offering this advice may get their meal cheap! A few puffs of the yellow miracle, and boom, you don't need to eat anything for four days.
Move, slow down, halt.
All this fiasco was being noticed by a person, a person sitting down in his car, listening to depressing music, on his way to an 8-hour shift at work, asking, "Why am I so unlucky? Why am I so depressed?"
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