THE LIFE-CHANGER

‘I won't be able to do it,' I thought. 'I don't have what it takes.'
I felt really miserable after giving an unsatisfactory test despite studying really hard the night before. I was fed-up with my life and was pretty sure, like today's test, I was going to fail in it too.
I stepped onto a bus and threw myself on the first seat by the window. After a while, a man sat beside me. I did not really notice what age he was. He could've been in his late thirties or he could have been a sixty year old. But what I did notice was that he smelled of betel leaf and had a gunny bag filled with books.
The bus started moving; and stopped again after two minutes in traffic. It was then that the man asked, 'Bhaijan, do you like studying?’
'Here goes,' I thought. These people love talking. I don't, but I'm always too nice to ask them to shut up.
I shrugged, which I thought would tell him I wasn't interested. But it didn't. In fact, he seemed encouraged.
‘Bhaijan, I studied till class five but had to stop because of poverty.’
'Happens,' I replied.
'But I still read a lot. These are my books,' he lifted his gunny bag, 'All borrowed from a well-wisher. Don't have the money to buy!' he gave a shaky laugh.
The guy was actually starting to intrigue me.
I looked at him carefully. He was dark skinned and looked weary. He was probably in his fifties. Life hadn't been kind to him. But his eyes gleamed.
‘What do you do?’
He noticed my interest and leaned forward.
‘I'm a construction worker. Do you want to see my handwriting?’
This question struck me as weird.
‘Yeah. Sure.'
He handed me an oily paper which had the date 13th September 1997 on it and contained a poem called 'Bostishishu.’
After I'd read it, he asked, 'What do you think?’
'Yeah, it's g -' I started to say when I realized it wasn't his handwriting he was talking about.
'Did you write this yourself?' I asked after a small pause.
‘Yes. Did you like it?’
‘Yes. Yes, I did. It's actually pretty good!’
‘Thank you! I have a few more. Don't have them with me now. But I can recite them if you want.’
'Of course. Go ahead.’
His poems all seemed fascinating but what he said next struck me the most:
‘2018. The Ekushey Book fair. You'll see Md. Abdul Mojid's book. I just have to work really hard to make the money.’
A guy who didn't know what he was going to eat the next day was working to achieve his dream when I was tired of my life in spite of all the opportunities I have.
I got down from the bus looking to my future with a whole new perspective.
I never noticed my wallet and phone were gone.