When Raju reached the Jamuna Bridge, he was stopped by the bridge authorities. Bicycles were not allowed on the bridge. Raju came to a halt; it felt as if his Eid joy had stopped at the gates of the Jamuna Bridge. If he couldn't cross the bridge with his bicycle, his son would be heartbroken. He had come too far-there was no way he could turn back to Dhaka. Standing there, he began to think. Occasionally, a pickup truck would pass by.
Raju approached one of the drivers and pleaded, "Please, I will pay you 100 takas. Could you help me carry my bicycle across the bridge?" Seeing the sadness and desperation in his eyes, the driver agreed. He helped Raju and his bicycle into the truck and took them across the Jamuna Bridge. Once on the other side, Raju resumed pedaling. A day and a night had passed. Still, Raju kept cycling. Night fell again.
The next morning was Eid-ul-Adha. In the middle of the night, Raju reached Bogura. From there, he headed toward Palashbari in Gaibandha. He felt a bit of relief. On the highway in Bogura, a patrol unit of the Bangladesh Army saw Raju cycling with a bag on his back in the dead of night and stopped him. An officer asked, "Where are you going this late on a bicycle?" "I'm coming from Dhaka, " Raju replied.
"I'm headed to Palashbari in Gaibandha." The soldiers were stunned. Why would someone travel hundreds of kilometers from Dhaka on a bicycle? They asked him why. Raju broke down in tears. "My school-going son wanted a bicycle for Eid, " he said. "I didn't have enough money to buy a new one, so I bought a used one and repaired it. When I got to Abdullahpur, I tried to transport it home on a truck, but the driver asked for 2000 takas.
I only had 2200. If I gave away 2000, there would be no Eid for my children. So I decided to ride the bicycle all the way home-through two nights and a day."
When Raju reached the Jamuna Bridge, he was stopped by the bridge authorities. Bicycles were not allowed on the bridge. Raju came to a halt; it felt as if his Eid joy had stopped at the gates of the Jamuna Bridge. If he couldn't cross the bridge with his bicycle, his son would be heartbroken. He had come too far-there was no way he could turn back to Dhaka. Standing there, he began to think. Occasionally, a pickup truck would pass by.
Raju approached one of the drivers and pleaded, "Please, I will pay you 100 takas. Could you help me carry my bicycle across the bridge?" Seeing the sadness and desperation in his eyes, the driver agreed. He helped Raju and his bicycle into the truck and took them across the Jamuna Bridge. Once on the other side, Raju resumed pedaling. A day and a night had passed. Still, Raju kept cycling. Night fell again.
The next morning was Eid-ul-Adha. In the middle of the night, Raju reached Bogura. From there, he headed toward Palashbari in Gaibandha. He felt a bit of relief. On the highway in Bogura, a patrol unit of the Bangladesh Army saw Raju cycling with a bag on his back in the dead of night and stopped him. An officer asked, "Where are you going this late on a bicycle?" "I'm coming from Dhaka, " Raju replied.
"I'm headed to Palashbari in Gaibandha." The soldiers were stunned. Why would someone travel hundreds of kilometers from Dhaka on a bicycle? They asked him why. Raju broke down in tears. "My school-going son wanted a bicycle for Eid, " he said. "I didn't have enough money to buy a new one, so I bought a used one and repaired it. When I got to Abdullahpur, I tried to transport it home on a truck, but the driver asked for 2000 takas.
I only had 2200. If I gave away 2000, there would be no Eid for my children. So I decided to ride the bicycle all the way home-through two nights and a day."
