REFLECTIONS
A teacher named Mian Abul Hossain
The last time I saw Mian Abul Hossain, it was a hot afternoon on Elephant Road here in the city. And that was more than twenty years ago. He looked pretty sad and dishevelled. In his trademark kurta and pyjama, he certainly did not look in the best of spirits. I had heard earlier that he was no more with Notre Dame College, where he had taught me. Why he had left the college, or whether it had been the other way round, I never did find out. But on that steamy afternoon, when I walked up, indeed almost ran up to him, the grin that appeared across his face said it all.
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