ওয়াসীম সোবহানের ভাবনা

I think of death often; as often as I think of life. But visuals of laying in blood clots during transition never occurred as much as it did in recent times. I visualize my dead body beside a highway - road accident perhaps; being dragged out from a dented vehicle and laying down with few others or not was my dread dream for long. Or will I comprise bullet wounds followed by sharp cuts all over the body? Likely my body, me within or not, would pass few hours in morgue before getting into a casket. In next life may be my blood will be white and the cover will be dead-red; contrary to what is in this life. I was 11 once as everyone was or will be. While heading towards Khagrachari from Chittagong, our convoy was halted in Guimara as there was a gunbattle between the army and tribal guerrillas. An overenthusiastic showed me bullet wounded and mortar hit bodies of both parties. I asked why they battle. No apt answer I got; perhaps they died for no reason other than grabbing sleep of a k