A Box Full of Autumn

Maisun can see only a small patch of skystanding beside the window of their Dhaka home. The rest is hidden behind tall buildings. She lives in this city with her parents. One day, her father, Adilur Rahman, asked her, “Would you like to visit your grandfather’s house during the four-day holiday?”

Hearing it she jumped with excitement. Along with her clothes, she packed coloured pencils and a drawing notebook in her bag. Their destination was Gopinathpur in Meherpur.

It was the month of Ashwin, the beginning of autumn. When they reached the village and she saw the vast sky above her head. She felt as if someone had made her window much bigger. Instead of the horns of vehicles in Dhaka, she could hear the songs of birds here.

Her cousin Roshan held her hand. He said to her, “Come, I will show you a white sea!”

Maisun was surprised. “Where is the sea here?”

Roshan only smiled.

The Bhairab River flows beside their house. When they reached the riverbank, Maisun’s eyes grew wide. As far as she could see, there were only kash flowers everywhere! As the wind blew, the flowers swayed their heads together.

“Is this your white sea?”
“Yes! But here, instead of waves, flowers dance.”

Maisun smiled and stood beside the kash field. There were a few pieces of white clouds floating in the blue sky. Their reflections appeared in the clear water of the river. Small fish were swimming below.“The fish are swimming among the clouds!” Maisun said.

The clouds moved away in the afternoon. The two children sat on the grass of the high riverbank and watched the clear sky. Gentle sunlight touched their bodies. The heads of the kash flowers bent toward them in the breeze, as if they wanted to share a secret.

Maisun whispered, “When I return to Dhaka, I will take a little autumn with me.”
Roshan asked, “But what will you carry it in?”
“But I don’t know.” 

At night, Grandmother fried sweet palm cake. Attracted by the sweet smell, Maisun appeared at the kitchen door. Grandma said, “Go wash your hands. But remember to blow on the hot cake before eating.” Outside, crickets were chirping. The two children sat side by side and ate the fritters. One fritter was slightly crooked. Roshan named it the “moon boat.” Maisun said, “Then I am going to eat the boat!” Grandma smiled with them.

The next morning, Roshan and Maisun woke up early in the morning. Under the shiuli tree, white flowers were scattered like a carpet. Their orange stems looked like tiny pieces of sunlight. The fragrance of the flowers made the morning air sweet.
As soon as Maisun stepped on the dew-covered grass, she was startled.
“Oh! The grass has made me wet!”
The two children collected fallen shiuli flowers and made a garland. At first, Maisun started to make garland. But she failed. Roshan showed her how to do it properly. Finally, Maisun handed the garland she made to Grandma and said, “This is the price of your moon boat.”

In the morning, Grandpa took them to the crop fields. On one side there were small vegetable plots. Some plants had grown bigger, while some newly planted seedlings were just beginning to appear. Grandpa introduced them to bean vines, tomato plants, and capsicum seedlings. A little further ahead, he showed them peas, eggplants, and bottle gourd plants. Then he bent down and showed them the leaves of newly planted potato plants.

Maisun looked around.
“Where are the potatoes? Are they hiding behind the leaves?”
Grandpa smiled and said, “The potatoes will grow under the soil.”
“Oh! They will play hide-and-seek!”
“Yes. Now we have to let them grow. Not all vegetables become ready at the same time. Many of them need to wait until winter.”
Maisun drew the plants in her notebook. Under the potato plant, she drew the soil and added several round potatoes.
Grandpa looked at it and said, “In your notebook, the harvest has already arrived!”
Like this, the days passed quickly. Sometimes they visited the riverbank, sometimes they played in the courtyard, and sometimes they listened to Grandma’s stories. On the third night, Maisun asked Grandma for an empty biscuit box.
“What will you keep in it?”Grandma asked her.
“Autumn.”
Grandma smiled after hearing her answer.

The next day, Maisun went to the riverbank, opened the lid of the box, and held it in the air. Then she quickly closed it.
Roshan asked, “Did you catch it?”
They both opened the box and looked inside. There was nothing!
Maisun looked disappointed.
“Even the wind cannot be kept!”
When they returned home, Maisun opened her drawing notebook, and her eyes sparkled. She drew the Bhairab River, the kash field, the shiuli garland, and the taler bora on small pieces of paper. She wrote on one paper,“The sound of crickets.” On another, “The fragrance of morning flowers.”
Roshan drew a picture of themselves. Their arms became so long that they almost touched the river. Under the picture, he wrote “Come again.”

Maisun arranged all the papers inside the box and closed the lid. On the day of their departure, Father called, “Maisun, it is time to go.”
Maisun held her father’s hand and said, “Father, can we stay just one more day?”
Grandma gently caressed her head.
Father smiled softly and said, “We will come again. Tomorrow is your school day.”

At the bus station, they the Dhaka-bound coach. Roshan had also come to say goodbye to Maisun. The bus slowly began to move. Roshan stood beside the road waving his hand. Maisun leaned out of the window and kept waving back. Slowly, Roshan became smaller and disappeared from sight.
Father looked at the box beside her and asked, “Were you finally able to catch autumn?”
Maisun lifted the box with both hands and pressed it close to her chest. Smiling slightly, she said, “Yes, my four-day autumn!”

After returning to their Dhaka home, Maisun sat beside the window and opened the box again. Looking at the pictures inside, a smile appeared on her face. Inside the box were the Bhairab River, kash flowers, the shiuli garland, taler bora, and Roshan’s drawing-all were there.
Only the real autumn was missing.
Maisun thought for a while and picked up her coloured pencils. Then, with large letters, she wrote on the lid of the box-