The Old White Flowers

Abdur Rahman, now 65 years old, has spent most of his life alone. Many years ago, he lost his wife during childbirth, but a beautiful girl was born—Afia, the heart of Abdur Rahman. For ten joyful years, she filled his life with laughter and love. However, joy turned to sorrow when Afia fell ill with suspected lung cancer. Her health grew weaker, and despite Abdur Rahman’s desperate efforts, he never had the money to provide her with the treatment she needed.

One night, as Afia lay in pain, she looked up at her father with teary eyes and asked, “Abba, am I dying?” In her fragile voice, she added, “If I live, will you take me to the ‘Kash Bon’, where the beautiful white flowers bloom in autumn?” But it was monsoon season, and the memory of the flowers faded from her mind amid the pain. That night, Afia slipped away, leaving Abdur Rahman shattered.

Since then, his days have been filled with quiet memories and deep sadness. In Bangladesh, autumn arrives not with the usual yellow and orange colors but with fields covered in soft white Kash flowers. Each autumn, Abdur Rahman sits outside, staring at these delicate flowers. To him, they are more than just blooms; they remind him of his beloved daughter.

“I spend most of my autumns thinking of her,” he whispers softly. “Sometimes, I feel she comes to visit me in the form of these little white flowers.”

As he watches the Kash flowers dance in the wind, Abdur Rahman finds a sense of peace. He imagines Afia’s spirit among the soft petals, returning to him each autumn. Though he lost her long ago, he takes comfort in believing she is still with him, flying gracefully through the fields, reminding him of their love.