The midnight passage
It was precisely 20 minutes past midnight when Sifah stole a glance at the time displayed in the right corner of her computer screen.
Swiftly, she shut down the PC and surveyed her surroundings, finding herself alone.
She rang Azim bhai for the office transport, but he informed her that it would arrive after dropping off the first passenger.
Waiting outside the office, she grew restless after 15 minutes and called Azim bhai again, only to receive no response.
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Another 10 minutes passed, and she made the decision to forgo the office transport.
She strolled along the deserted road, flanked by homes with expansive courtyards, adorned with flourishing flower plants and fruit-laden trees that brushed against the pavement.
This enclave was considered an elite neighborhood in the heart of Dhaka, where a few pre-war structures stood proudly, their spacious courtyards a testament to the past.
As she savoured the nocturnal beauty of the tranquil neighbourhood, she came across a rickshaw stationed beside the road near the government building that once housed the Ministry of Culture.
This edifice had once served as the East-Pakistan Governor's residence prior to liberation.
Stepping closer to the rickshaw, a man with an exceedingly peculiar attire revealed himself.
Sifah inquired if he could take her to Indira road.
The man responded with a slight nod. She inquired about the fare, but he remained silent, fixating his gaze ahead.
Sifah offered Tk60 and boarded the rickshaw.
During the journey, Sifah scrutinised the man closely.
His long, billowing black attire obscured any view of his hands or feet.
Although the path was just fifteen minutes long, it appeared to Sifah that the road was widening, and the rickshaw's front wheel spun rapidly, yet remained stuck in the same spot.
She urged the rickshaw-puller to hasten, but he paid no heed to her pleas.
An unsettling feeling crept over her.
She called out to the man again, yet received no response.
Suddenly, she found herself in an entirely unfamiliar place, with houses bearing peculiar facades.
She implored the rickshaw puller to halt, but he remained unmoved.
Sifah contemplated leaping from the rickshaw, but then she realised it was hovering above the ground, hurtling forward at an unnatural speed.
Panic surged through her, and she attempted to scream, but no sound escaped her lips.
In her desperation, she struck the rickshaw-puller with her handbag when he turned to face her.
However, the figure before her was not the man she had initially seen. It possessed no discernible features – only an abyssal, shapeless void.
Sifah leaped from the rickshaw and stumbled to her feet.
As she beheld the puller standing tall before her, his stature unnaturally towering, she tried to flee.
The terrain, however, was unfamiliar, and she couldn't determine which way to run.
She dashed in a directionless frenzy until she reached a dead end.
It felt as though she was suspended in a void, and then the dark figure emerged.
It hurled its obsidian attire toward Sifah, enveloping her so tightly that breathing became a struggle. She believed her end was imminent…
Then she heard a sound.
It was the alarm she had set for 4pm.
She awoke in a cold sweat, casting off the blanket that had veiled her face. Relief washed over her—it had all been a dream.
She left the bed and headed to the washroom to freshen up, knowing her night duty would commence at 5pm.
As she stepped out of her house, she looked to hail a rickshaw. The déjà vu from her dream crept in. She brushed it off smiling at how foolish it was.
Then a rickshaw stopped next to her and asked where she wanted to go.
Sifah turned.
The rickshaw-puller was a man with an exceedingly peculiar attire.
