Our house was facing a major street in Dhaka. An old man rented the shop in the first floor for his book store. We called the old man ChaCha Mia. Infect, until today I am not sure what is his real name. I saw him everyday sitting on a stool in his shop, except Friday, when he used to go visit his son in Mirpur.

One afternoon when I came back from college, I happened to look inside the book store. I saw "chacha mia" standing in the corner of the store wearing a coat. It looked like he was feeling cold. I really did not think of anything and moved on to up stair.

In about 15 minutes, a young lady was yielding from the street asking for help. It was 2.00 in the afternoon. Hearing all the noise, I ran down to the book store. Most of the adult men were at work. I was the only one who was considered a adult man among 7/8 other women. We all found out that ChaCha Mia laying on the floor and lots of white stuffs coming out of his mouth. He was still alive but in pain.

No one knew what to do. Seeing that I ran upstairs and call the emergency hospital phone and ask for ambulances. In about 30 minutes later a fire ambulance showed up in front of our house and picked up ChaCha Mia. All the women insisted that I should ride with him in the ambulance.

That would be the first time ever, I will ride an ambulance. Anyway I am sitting in the ambulance next to him. Chacha mia was conscious and asked me " do you have my sandal". I said "I do" even I really did not have it.

We arrived in Dhaka Medical college hospital emergency room. The doctors and nurses took him inside. In about 30 minutes later I was able to see him and he asked me to contact his son. He looked ok to me at that time. I told him I will do that and left the hospital.

Around 5 in the evening, we got a phone call that ChaCha mia just died. It was really a very sad news for all of us especially for me. I guess, life is like that. Here today, not here tomorrow.