Cynthia was about to wrap up her day when she got the notification of another news. She opened the mail from the correspondent. It was a suicide case. A woman had committed suicide in the Paribagh area.
She was not really in the mood to start working on the news again. She was so tired after her long working shift. Besides there was more pressure than the regular days as it was the time of the national parliament election.
- Mihir, let's skip this news now. It is just a suicide case. Who wants to know about random suicide now? People are interested in the political news at this moment.
- Yeah, I think you can skip it. Not breaking news though. Suicides have become so common these days. You remember that girl, who committed suicide just because her mother forbade her to go to a party. People these days are so...
Mihir is someone who could speak for hours. But now, Cynthia was not in the mood to listen to him. She was drained out and wanted to go to her home as soon as possible.
- Mihir, I am leaving for home now. See you tomorrow.
She came down to the road. It was around 10 o'clock in the night. She felt the cold winter breeze on her face. Winter was quite intense this year. Dense fog was everywhere. She started to shiver in the cold. She put a woollen cap on her head and slipped her cold hands into the side pockets of her black cardigan.
Cynthia looked over the street. No car, no bike, no three-wheelers, nothing on the road. She could hardly see any passersby on the road. Usually, this road buzzed with people in these hours, but the streets were now empty because of the national parliament election.
She started walking towards the nearest hospital. She was sure that she would get a vehicle there.
It was a five-minute walk to the hospital from her office. It was her second month working for the news agency. Cynthia had always dreamt about being a journalist. And now she was there. Holding a position in the news sector. An Identity card around her neck stating Press. She could not be happier.
But the workload was huge too. And specifically in this election period when the main opposition political party had boycotted the election. They demanded an election under a neutral government. And the ruling party did not listen to them. So there was so much news every single day. There was news of vandalism, arson attacks and whatnot along with the blame game played by both opposition leaders and ruling party leaders. The newsroom editors had to work long shifts to deliver news to the people. And as a fresh graduate and a newbie in this sector, it was really hard for her to maintain all these things.
In the empty streets, amid the cold wave and fog, her laughter echoed like a phantom
Cynthia was thinking about all these things while walking towards the hospital. And as she assumed, there were many vehicles in front of the hospital gate. She was thinking about getting a rickshaw. From the day Cynthia had started to spend her own money for her expenses, Uber rides became too expensive for her. And the job as a sub-editor did not pay her much.
She was about to hop on a rickshaw when someone called her from behind.
- Hey, I heard you calling a rickshaw for Ahmedbag. I am going in the same direction. Can I tag along with you?
Cynthia looked behind. A young girl aged around 25 was standing there. Cynthia looked at her from head to toe in the light of the roadside lamp. She was wearing a white salwar kameez. Messy hair, braided loosely. Dark circles under her eyes. She was looking way too exhausted.
-Hello! Can I share the rickshaw with you? I have been looking for one for the last half an hour but I could not find any. I need to go there. I will share the fare too.
Cynthia hesitated for a moment. How it would be to give a lift to a stranger! But the girl’s tiresome face was forcing her to help her. And then she gathered the courage to invite the stranger on her rickshaw. And then the girl hopped in.
- Oh, it was such a relief to get into a rickshaw finally. Thank you so much, the girl said to Cynthia.
- No, no. It is absolutely okay. Besides, it is not that easy to get public transport amid this critical condition in the country.
- So, have you ever shared a rickshaw with a stranger?
- No, I have not.
Cynthia answered with hesitation.
- Well, it is my first time too. Actually, I do not travel much. My school, college, and everything was within walking distance from my home.
- Lucky you are. By the way, what are you doing here then? Do you live in Ahmedbagh?
- No, I live in Paribag. I am an intern doctor at Saphora Medical College Hospital. What do you do?
- I have just stepped into the journalism sector.
- So you are a journalist. I adore you guys a lot. How dedicated they are to finding out a hidden truth.
The girl was quite a chatterbox. She was talking so much that Cynthia found it disturbing. Also, she had a headache. She kept mum while the girl was talking about almost everything.
-You must be so tired after doing so much news throughout the day. Ain’t you?
And this question somehow reminded Cynthia about that suicide. She said,
- Yes, I was pretty tired today with all that election news. I had to leave a news untouched because of that.
- What kind of news was that?
- Nothing interesting. Just a random suicide.
- How do you know it is just a random suicide? You know, there are so many ways to make a murder look like a suicide case. The murderer tortures their prey carefully until it dies. And then write a fake suicide note stating that she did not blame anyone for her death.
The girl started to laugh so loud but tears were rolling down her eyes. In the empty streets, amid the cold wave and fog, her laughter echoed like a phantom.
And Cynthia was struck with this answer. She was feeling nervous.
They approached Ahmedbag. Cynthia got down from the rickshaw and handed over a bill of Tk100 to the girl. Within a few moments, the rickshaw with the stranger girl vanished into the dense fog.
The next morning, when Cynthia came to the office, Mihir informed her that the body of the girl who committed suicide was brought to the hospital near to their office for the autopsy.
- Our reporter managed to click a picture of that young deceased. Although we did not add the picture to the news. It would look vulgar. You can check the published news, Cynthia.
Cynthia took the newspaper from Mihir. The news reads:
“Police recovered the hanging body of a young woman from the Paribagh area late on Tuesday.
The deceased was identified as Tania Islam, 26. She was an intern doctor at Saphora Medical College Hospital.
The OC of Mugda police station said that a letter was found on the bedside table. It stated that she did not blame anyone for her death.
The police said that it was a random suicide case without citing any evidence.
However, there were some blood stains on the deceased’s white dress.”
Cynthia asked Mihir for the girl’s photo in a trembling voice. And the girl in the photo was not a stranger to her.
Tahsina Inam Trisha is a Sub-Editor, Dhaka Tribune.
