Smaller Circles.

The Bank Manager

That’s what he dreamed about. That’s what he was. It had been many years since he arrived with his four daughters from Bangladesh. What stood out was the happiness of his children. What stood out was his mourning for his wife. 

Saba did not survive her fourth childbirth. Medical care was not at fault. There were complications for which her doctors were prepared. They had had good training, maybe if…

 The lead obstetrician was of a higher caste than the other doctors. So they were unable to be appropriately persuasive when they saw the problems.

This same class-ingrained deference had been at the root of many plane crashes.

This stood out as something which could be addressed.

Saba herself was a physician. Highly regarded, highly trained. A woman of noble spirit. Giving, always giving. Her passing was more than a tragedy for Ahnaf, her children and her extended family. Her father still working, was an engineer, her mother born a month after her husband ran a school for girls. The couple bickered as joyously and made up just as lovingly as they had half a century ago. They we’re generous with their grandchildren:

Many relatives still lived in Banasree. There were endless smaller circles of family to disapprove of just about anything. Among their top 10 grievances was shy should Rodela, a college graduate want to be a rickshaw driver. They heard about that through Skype and Facebook.

Saba and Ahnaf’s four daughters Hridi, Ranya, Anuva and Rodela, who we’ve already heard about, graduated from American colleges. Three had fiancés, the fourth Rodela couldn’t make up her mind if she preferred men or women. That probably would have been a problem back in Dhaka. True that being such a mixed population of ethnicities and religions and with close to 19 million people, would one part-time lesbian would not really stand out?