Story: White Approach Text: Adrita Paradise

The sound of crying crying from the next room is flowing,
Mother weeping, weeping and weeping, except for a short while, I am sitting in the corner of the room in front of the book, although my attention is all in the mother's cry, I am silent today, I have no say today, but I wish Once I tell my mother,
"" Mother, you do not cry, I have a lot of trouble "
After being silent for a long time, I started moving in front of my mother with faintness, as soon as I stepped in the room next to the room, the mother tried to remove the tears of the water very quickly, although she could not do all that. Shivering trembling voice said, "Do something?"
Fear began to increase in heart, but I kept eyeing my eyes, "Do you cry?"
Mom suddenly said, "Where are you?"
Well, I came to the room from the room.
.
.

I am Adiba Sultana. Dad died before my birth, due to lack of treatment. There's a big brother, my name is Russell. He told his father to make a doctor as a doctor, brother should be called a day doctor, but he uses himself for the poor helpless. Drink water to bring our salt, but brother is a very good student, so with the help of higher scholarship and school and college teachers, brother has completed college today. No teacher could ever read it, but he always stayed ahead of everyone. Because of his talent and hard work, today and he has reached. I now read in the seventh grade. The school where I read the mother works there, so I do not even have to spend the reading. Today, Brother got the results of Higher Secondary Examination, Brother Golden A + +. Everyone is excited about my brother, and my mother is crying. But I know the reason behind my mother's crying very well.
.
.

As soon as I came in the room, I sat in front of the book. But not for reading, for the sake of thinking. Thoughts are not related to reading. It's just a matter of repeatedly talking about the head. Wrong or wrong! Saying lies or sin is !!! These words, however, have taught me from my childhood. And so today a question is still on my head.
If it is a lie then there is a sin, but why is the mother lying?
Mother will not sin? Is not it wrong to say my mother lies? Or the mothers could lie?
It's not going to be thinking, maybe it seems to be tearing all of the head's wrings in the famine, I'll be in the middle of a moment. Humor body ......... !!!!!!!
.
.

Thinking of these things suddenly I remembered one thing. The English teacher of our class once said a word to us. He asked us once- how many lies are there?
We all remained silent, I started thinking - How many lies can there be? He said,
There are two types of lies. 1. White lie, 2. Black lie.
We laugh at the word. How is it again
He said - Some people talk so many lies, but there is no harm in those words. Maybe those falsehoods are said to keep someone good. These are white lie. And there are some lies that only people have a lot of harm. There can be many problems. They are - Black lie ........
Finally, remembering the words of Sir, I realized that there was no mistake in the words.
Maybe I laughed, but today I understand how much the words mean. And he also discovered that my mother and White are included under the lie.
.
.

I can say that my mother is a liar. At the end of the day, when the mother returned home, admiring me and feeding brother to me
When we ask, the mother responds smiling, I ate. Mother had to work in the evening in a big building next to our slum. Mother said that the owner or a very good man Mother used to eat dinner from most of the time there. I told mother for a long time to take me there too. But mother did not listen to me, why did not I ever take me. One day I thought, I myself will come here. One day after Mom went to work, I went there with famine. I can not be seen in the gate of the gate, at this opportunity I got inside the house. The sound of screaming came from behind the door. The owner is shouting with the mother. Mother was saying - Sir, I'll get the salary of my polatera college, how much does not give money, sir. The owner pushed the mother and threw it to the ground, my mother shouted "O father, Ore mother". I sat on the ground outside the door. I just started to think about it - someone might be pulling out my heart. I ran to the house and ran crying. I began to cry and began to think in my mind - "" The owner is really good. But you are better mother If you say that you are lying for the betterment of our life forever !!! "
.
.

I used to pray daily. And after praying, I used to pray first: "Allah, please remove all the pain from my mother." Give me the troubles of my mother, but keep the mother good ""
At one time it seemed that if the plants, animals could talk to the world, then maybe my mother would have heard their screams in the sky and in the wind. My mother works day-to-day work, and the owners have to be beaten and eat again. Nevertheless, I would never say to my mother that "I have trouble." "
I do not know that Allah made Mother with soil or with stones! Even after making it with soil, how could one be able to tolerate such tolerant power?