This is how the game started, and perhaps for the first time in her life, Nishi lost. The victory was Abul’s—he got Nishi’s phone number, a visa to enter her friendship.
Nishi returned home, answered all of her father’s questions, and then faced her mother. While she could hide some things from her father, she could never deceive her mother’s eyes. The moment she looked into them, everything fell apart—she couldn’t tell a single lie. She tried her best to avoid facing her mother. She told her father that she had a terrible headache and would take a shower before going to bed.
She rushed to the bathroom. Standing under the shower for a long time, she started humming a tune. Hot water streamed down, but her mind was lost in the past. She had a short but eventful past—one filled with teenage recklessness.
At that time, Nishi had just finished her intermediate exams. She was performing at music shows day and night. One day at a college, the next at a club, then at weddings, universities, towns, villages—everywhere. Sometimes, she had two or three shows in a single day. She was a sensation in the city; everyone wanted her. She was among the top three highest-paid performers.
During this time, she met the best guitarist of that era. Let’s call him Wahid. Not only was he one of the country’s top two guitarists, but he also had an incredible voice for band music. He played regularly with legends like James and Ayub Bachchu. Wahid and his band invited Nishi to sing with them regularly.
At that time, her father was always by her side—like a shadow. Even during practice sessions, he would sit there, which Wahid and the others often teased her about. They loved to rile her up. And at that age, it really angered her; she felt humiliated.
Nishi: “Dad, why don’t you just drop me off and come back later? Do you have to sit here? No other parents do!”
Father: “There are no other girls here!”
Nishi: “Dad, all the musicians are practicing here, and you seem out of place.”
Father: “I don’t care. You’re not even eighteen yet!”
Nishi: “Dad, I hate this. They tease me because you’re here. I’m grown up now.”
Father: “If that’s the case, you don’t need to do music anymore. Stay home and study.”
Nishi: “I will do music. Besides, once I start university, I won’t have time for shows or practice. Let me enjoy it while I can!”
Father: “I made a mistake allowing you to perform. You should quit.”
Nishi: “Then just get rid of me instead!”
Father: “What do you mean?”
Nishi: “I don’t like having you follow me everywhere.”
Father: “I will stay with you like a shadow until you’re married.”
Nishi: “Wait, weren’t you the one who said I need to study and achieve great things? Now you’re thinking about marriage?”
Father: “If this is how you want to live, I don’t see another way. What about your admission coaching?”
Nishi: “It starts next week.”
Father: “Thank God. Focus on your studies.”
Nishi: “Hmph… I’ve spent years singing, worked hard to get here, and now you say this?”
Father: “Look, we’ve never compromised on your education. That’s always the priority. Learning music is fine, but you should sing on radio or TV—not with those junkie boys.”
Nishi was stunned. Her father, the person she loved the most, never spoke like this.
Nishi: “Have I ever said I won’t study? Haven’t I been winning scholarships since eighth grade? I ranked 22nd in my board exams! Even in my intermediate exams, I’m getting a scholarship. Haven’t I been studying well?”
Father: “I know you. If you wanted, you could have ranked second instead of 22nd. You need to put in more effort. And I will never let you be alone with those band boys.”
Nishi: “Fine, I’ll do whatever you say. Just let me perform. I haven’t even started my studies yet, and I’m enjoying this.”
Father: “As long as I’m with you, you can perform. But if I can’t be there, you won’t go.”
Nishi felt a little sad but said nothing. Because deep down, she knew that sometimes, she also felt uncomfortable in certain situations. Like when she saw Wahid and the others smoking weed before a show, or drinking afterward. She didn’t like it. Or when fans tried to get too close, she felt uneasy. In such moments, she silently thanked her father. He protected her. No one could bypass him. If anyone tried to talk to her or ask for her number, he would step in with a firm, “Talk to me instead. I handle her shows.” The disappointed boys and men had no choice but to deal with her father.
Back in the present, hot water continued to pour down as Nishi reminisced about Wahid.
It was just the other day. She was sitting in the front row. Wahid’s band was performing. Nishi thought she was imagining things at first, but no. She wasn’t. Every time Wahid sang the words “Mon kede niyeche shey dustumeye” from Duur Pahare, he was looking right at her. Not just in that line—the whole song. And when he sang Sundoritoma Amar, he even pointed at her while strumming his guitar.
His long hair, his lively singing, his smiles—everything made Nishi weak. During practice, he kept glancing at her, grinning. Inside, 17-year-old Nishi was a whirlwind of emotions. And when, during breaks, Wahid lightly brushed her hand under the pretext of handing her tea, she felt an indescribable sensation.
One day, something more happened.
During practice, everyone stepped out for a smoke—including her father. Usually, Wahid would go too, but this time, he stayed behind. Nishi felt nervous, unable to focus. She kept messing up the same part of a song. Wahid walked over and sat beside her, staring into her eyes.
Wahid: “What’s wrong? You never make mistakes in this part. Want to sing with me?”
Nishi: “I don’t know why I keep messing up.”
Wahid: “Can I hold your hand?”
Nishi wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t speak. She just looked down. Wahid gently took her hands in his lap. He lifted her chin slightly and said, “You can do this. Just trust me. You’ll get it right this time.”
And she did. She finally got it right. She was amazed—why couldn’t she do it before?
Just then, the others returned. Bobby, another band member, teased her: “Still stuck on that one line? Are you planning to sing just that all night? I need my turn too!”
Wahid scolded Bobby and told him to back off.
Back in the present, Nishi was startled by a knock on the bathroom door.
Mother: “Are you going to shower all night? What’s going on with you?”
Nishi: “Mom, I have a headache. Don’t bother me!”
Mother: “Oh, so I’m bothering you now? Where were you all day? You’ve never come home this late before!”
Nishi: “Late? It’s just evening!”
Mother: “Where were you? With whom? And why did you rush to shower the moment you got home? You never do this!”
Nishi: “Wow! So now I need a schedule to shower in my own house? You’re unbelievable!”
Annoyed, Nishi turned off the shower and came out humming. Her mother looked at her strangely—eyes scanning her neck, shoulders, back—with suspicion and disbelief.
Mother: “Why do you look so happy?”
Nishi: “Don’t you want me to be happy?”
Mother: “God knows what trouble you’re getting into this time!”
Nishi: “Mom, you’re always so suspicious!”
Mother: “Well, time will tell if it’s for no reason.”
