đ āύিঃāĻļāĻŦ্āĻĻāϏূāϤ্āϰ | The Silent Thread
āĻŦাংāϞা | English |
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āϞāύ্āĻĄāύেāϰ āĻāĻĒāĻāĻŖ্āĻ ে āĻāĻ āĻŦৃāĻĻ্āϧা, āĻāϞিāϏ, āĻāĻা āĻĨাāĻāϤেāύ। | An old woman named Alice lived alone on the outskirts of London. |
āϤাāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤিāĻĻিāύেāϰ āϏāĻ্āĻী āĻিāϞ āĻāĻāĻা āĻিāĻ িāϰ āĻাāĻŽ—āϝেāĻা āϏে āĻāĻāύোāĻ āĻোāϞেāύি। | Her daily companion was an envelope she had never opened. |
āĻাāĻŽেāϰ āĻāĻĒāϰ āϞেāĻা āĻিāϞ: “āϝāĻāύ āϤুāĻŽি āĻ্āώāĻŽা āĻāϰāϤে āĻĒাāϰāĻŦে, āϤāĻāύāĻ āĻĒā§ো।” | On the envelope, it was written: “Read this only when you can forgive.” |
āĻিāĻ িāĻা āĻিāϞ āϤাāϰ āĻেāϞেāϰ। āϝিāύি ⧍ā§Ļ āĻŦāĻāϰ āĻāĻে, āĻāĻ āĻāĻā§াāϰ āĻĒāϰ, āĻŦাā§ি āĻেā§ে āĻāϞে āϝাāύ। | The letter was from her son, who had left home 20 years ago after a quarrel. |
āĻāϞিāϏ āĻাāĻāĻে āĻŦāϞেāύāύি, āĻিāύ্āϤু āĻিāĻ িāĻা āĻĒ্āϰāϤিāĻĻিāύ āϏāĻাāϞে āĻšাāϤে āύিā§ে āĻুāĻĒāĻাāĻĒ āĻŦাāϰাāύ্āĻĻাā§ āĻŦāϏāϤেāύ। | Alice never told anyone, but each morning she held the envelope and silently sat on the porch. |
āϏāĻŽā§ āĻā§াāϤে āĻĨাāĻে। āĻļāϰীāϰāĻা āĻĻুāϰ্āĻŦāϞ āĻšāϤে āĻĨাāĻে, āĻিāύ্āϤু āĻিāĻ ি āĻোāϞেāύ āύা। | Time passed. Her body grew weaker, but she never opened the letter.
āĻāĻāĻĻিāύ āĻšāĻ াā§ āĻŦৃāώ্āĻিāϰ āĻŽāϧ্āϝে, āĻāϞিāϏ āĻĒā§ে āϝাāύ। | One day, in the rain, Alice slipped and fell.
āĻšাāϏāĻĒাāϤাāϞে āύেāĻā§া āĻšāϞে, āύাāϰ্āϏāϰা āϤাāϰ āĻšাāϤāĻŦ্āϝাāĻে āĻাāĻŽāĻা āĻĒাā§। | At the hospital, the nurses found the envelope in her handbag.
āĻĄাāĻ্āϤাāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāĻļ্āύ āĻāϰেāύ, “āĻāĻা āĻি āĻুāϞে āĻĻেāĻāϤে āĻাāύ?” | A doctor asked, “Would you like to open this?”
āĻāϞিāϏ āϧীāϰে āĻŽাāĻĨা āύাā§েāύ। āĻোāĻে āĻāϞ। | Alice slowly nodded, eyes filled with tears.
āĻিāĻ িāϤে āϞেāĻা āĻিāϞ:
"āĻŽা, āĻāĻŽি āĻুāϞ āĻāϰেāĻিāϞাāĻŽ। āĻিāύ্āϤু āϤুāĻŽি āĻāĻŽাāϰ āĻĒৃāĻĨিāĻŦী। āϝāĻĻি āĻāĻ āĻিāĻ ি āĻĒā§āĻো, āĻāĻŽি āĻাāύি āϤুāĻŽি āĻ্āώāĻŽা āĻāϰেāĻো। āĻāĻŽি āĻĢিāϰে āĻāϏāϤে āĻাāĻ... āĻļুāϧু āĻāĻāĻŦাāϰ āϤোāĻŽাāϰ āĻĒাāĻļে āĻŦāϏে āύীāϰāĻŦ āĻĨাāĻāϤে āĻাāĻ।" | The letter read:
"Mom, I was wrong. But you are my whole world. If you're reading this, I know you've forgiven me. I want to come back... just once, to sit in silence beside you."
āϏেāĻ āϰাāϤে, āĻšাāϏāĻĒাāϤাāϞেāϰ āĻāϰিāĻĄোāϰে āĻāĻ āϝুāĻŦāĻ āĻĻাঁā§িā§ে āĻিāϞ—āĻোāĻে āĻāϤāĻ্āĻ, āĻšাāϤে āϞিāϞি āĻĢুāϞ। | That night, a young man stood in the hospital corridor—nervous, holding lilies.
āĻāĻŦং āĻāϞিāϏ, āϝিāύি āĻোāύো āĻļāĻŦ্āĻĻ āύা āĻāϰে, āĻļুāϧু āύিāĻেāϰ āĻেāϞেāϰ āĻšাāϤ āϧāϰেāĻিāϞেāύ—āĻ
āύেāĻ āĻŦāĻāϰ āĻĒāϰ। | And Alice, without a word, simply held her son’s hand—for the first time in many years.
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