Sometimes, I feel extremely guilty, but the very next moment, I feel like what I’m doing is absolutely right.
Be it for Ferdous’s sake or for my own. Right now, my sons are young and don’t understand much.
But what will happen when they grow up?
They will have to walk alongside the rest of society’s boys and girls, keeping pace with them.
And in that journey, I don’t want them to ever fall behind.
Besides, I’m sure everyone knows about my certain neighbor.
When she first visited her in-laws’ house after marriage, Ferdous had to give her a fitting reply to her face.
She had wanted me as a bride for her only son, Shamim.
But since Shamim had only passed his HSC, our family rejected the proposal.
Since then, they have harbored resentment against us.
And now, if they somehow find out that Ferdous doesn’t even have a minimum SSC certificate, they will leave no stone unturned to disgrace us in the village.
As it is, Ferdous is such a refined and well-mannered person that no one would ever guess he has such little education.
Only his contemporaries and a handful of others know this fact.
That’s why I want him to resume his studies as soon as possible.
I don’t want society or our children to ever point fingers at their father.
If sweet words don’t always work, sometimes you have to be a little strict to get the right things done.
What Ferdous’s parents couldn’t achieve with their excessive affection, I want to see if I can achieve with my loving discipline.
I know that many in society will judge me harshly for my strictness.
Some will even curse me in their hearts.
But I have no other choice.
Some may argue, “Does this mean less-educated men can never marry highly-educated women?”
Of course, they can—again and again, a thousand times over.
But in such cases, several factors matter.
And if a woman happily accepts her less-educated husband, then there’s nothing to debate.
However, in my opinion, in today’s world, lagging behind in education is not a matter of pride.
Rather, it’s about how well one can fight against adversity and place themselves among the competent—that is something to be proud of.
From what I’ve learned about Ferdous, I understand that he is by no means a man of low intelligence.
He definitely had the ability to pass with decent grades.
But due to being overly pampered by his family, he ended up in this situation.
As far as I know, the very classmates who used to sit behind him in class are now working proudly in government positions, solely due to their effort and their families’ pressure to study.
I am neither comparing my husband to others nor feeling envious.
My point is—if my husband has the ability to do something, why should he become a laughingstock just because he isn’t doing it?
I have seen many teachers in our primary education department.
Some of them entered the profession at a young age with just an SSC certificate, out of love for teaching.
As a result, they didn’t get the chance to continue their studies later.
But deep down, they always wished to study further while working, to update themselves for modern times.
As a result, many of them have eventually completed their graduation.
Moreover, nowadays, Bangladesh offers excellent facilities for adult education.
Millions of working professionals and older adults in Bangladesh are continuing their education through Open University.
I have personally seen teachers, older than my father, pursuing higher education through Open University and emerging with the highest qualifications.
If thousands of parents who are also teachers can continue their studies, then what’s stopping Ferdous?
The most important thing is to have the willingness.
And if someone lacks that willingness, then the circumstances around them must be shaped to create that interest.
I keep reminding myself of these things to stay strong from within.
But I can’t take it anymore!
Ferdous’s shortcomings haunt me more than ever these days.
A matter that we could have easily resolved ourselves has now stretched on for so long that we haven’t even seen each other’s faces for days!
Suddenly, the other day, Reshmi Apa came over and said, “Listen, Mina, I don’t like what’s happening.
Settle your issues with Ferdous as soon as possible.”
“I don’t quite understand what you mean, Apa.”
“That girl Fency—your sister-in-law’s friend.
She has been visiting your in-laws’ house a lot lately.
Last night, Mom called me and said that your father-in-law has decided to make Fency his son’s wife.
And ever since she heard that, she hasn’t been leaving their house.”
“I don’t like this at all.
Stop being stubborn and make amends with Ferdous before it’s too late.
Otherwise, one day, you’ll suddenly find that she has taken your place.
And men’s minds—who knows when they might start aligning with their parents?”
“You might end up losing everything in the process.”
After hearing Apa’s words, my heart has been filled with an ominous feeling.
What if Ferdous really marries the girl his father chose?
Then what will become of everything I’ve been fighting for—against my own family, against society?
What will be the result of this battle?
If I end up losing the one person who is dearest to me forever, what is the point of all this ego and pride?
As the night deepens, my anxiety grows stronger.
I keep staring at my sons’ innocent, sleeping faces, lost in thought.
Each face seems to be rising in protest, saying, “What was our fault?
Why did we have to become victims of your ego-driven battle?
Because of you, we lost our father. You are not our mother—we don’t want you.
Give us back our father!”
What an unrelenting cry!
I can’t bear it anymore!
It feels like my ability to hear is fading away forever!
And just then, my phone suddenly starts ringing.
An unknown number.
It keeps ringing!
But I have no desire to answer a call at this hour.
I thought if I ignored it, the caller would eventually give up.
But the phone keeps ringing persistently.
Annoyed, I finally pick it up, only to hear a long-awaited voice from the other end!
