#Obsession_Has_No_Escape
#Humayratul_Jannat
#Episode: 1
A rainy night in Dhaka. The wet glimmer of streetlights, the patter of rain on the window glass.
The story's hero: Ihsanul Mahmud Zubayer.
Age—seventeen. Tall, well-built. A strong jaw, always wearing dark black sunglasses, a trimmed beard—enough to intimidate the people around him. He is a freelance graphic designer, a businessman, and an underworld mafia—at the same time also a university professor.
Most of the time he sits at home in front of his computer. He doesn't mingle much with the outside world, but online he is a perfect observer.
Right now he sits at his desk. One name floats on his screen—Phulkumro (Flower-Frog / nickname). He zooms in on every picture. Beside the keyboard are some old things from his schooldays—a pen, a handwritten class-notes notebook, and a printed photo of her smiling.
Zubayer holds his breath and whispers—
"I'm only your brother… but I keep track of every step you take. When will you understand me? How much I love you… little bird."
---
Our story's heroine: Humayratul Jannat.
Age 20. Medium height, bright dusky skin. Long hair that, when left open, falls across her shoulders. Slim body but eyes are strangely deep—like a thousand unsaid words hidden inside. She's an English literature student at university. She has another identity too—that will be revealed within the story… Outwardly innocent, shy; but when she returns home another side of her appears.
The room's lights are off, only the laptop's blue glow brightening her face. Zubayer's photos are scattered across the desk—standing in class, sitting in a café, or walking down the street. Her diary pages are full—Zubayer's name and pictures cut and pasted on the wall.
Jannat bites her lip and mumbles—
"Do you think, Zub, you're mine… I remember all your photos, every step. You can't run away. Every breath of yours is imprisoned in my heart."
On the table, in trembling handwriting, she has written:
👉 "You are mine… forever."
---
Night deepens.
Zubayer hangs Jannat's pictures, one after another, on the wall and feels a strange satisfaction in his eyes.
Suddenly one photo catches his eye. He picks it up… In the picture she is smiling at her phone…
Immediately his right hand moves to his chest. Oh my—if only that phone belonged to me…
She never behaves like that with me… Even her phone makes me jealous… A sweet smile plays at the corner of his mouth. Zubayer whispers:
"You can't run from me… I will be your final destination."
Meanwhile, Jannat carefully pastes the picture of Zubayer taken today onto her wall, a mysterious upturned smile on her lips that makes him look even more strangely beautiful…
As she looks at the pictures, the sound of her heartbeat grows louder—thump… thump… thump…
She says,
"… I'm already inside you. My love…"
Both have secretly imprisoned the other. Yet neither knows—they are both playing the same game.
The afternoon sky is a pale sun. The city after the rain shines like wet glass.
Zubayer climbs up from the rooftop door holding an old diary. The sound of wind around, the scent of wet trees. In the distance Humayra sits alone—hair loose, fluttering in the wind, diary in hand. She looks so strangely beautiful to her Phulkumro… He wants to kiss her hair.
He smiles at his thought and then composes himself, laughs softly and says,
— "Writing in your diary again?"
Humayra raises her face and gives a shy smile.
— "Yes… some things can't be told to anyone."
A strange flicker passes through Zubayer's eyes, as if he already knows what's inside her diary???
Humayra has some secret pain… nobody understands it… once she tried to explain, but no one did, not even him… If he had understood a little, perhaps their relationship would have had a different name… Once the girl who went crazy for him would have been his.
Thinking all that, he sighs deeply.
But he doesn't know what Humayra has written inside the diary…
Suddenly Humayra looks at the diary in Zubayer's hands.
— "This diary? You still kept it?"
(It was actually an old school diary in which Humayra once wrote her name… countless poems scattered inside… which embarrass her now.)
Zubayer seems amused but doesn't smile; he just presses his lips together.
— "Some things can never be thrown away, don't you know?"
Humayra lowers her eyes and doodles in the diary with a pen. Inside she trembles, many questions crowding her mind but on the outside she seems normal.
Humayra:
"I had forgotten about this diary… and yet Zubu still kept it! Why? Does he know? Or is it just coincidence?"
Clouds gather in the sky. The wind picks up. Zubayer slowly moves closer to Humayra, stands very near. Eye to eye. The moment freezes.
Zubayer thinks to himself,
"She is so close yet so far. If she knew that I look at her every night… how much I want her?"
Humayra thinks to herself,
"Does he realize I actually wrote this diary about him?"
Suddenly Zubayer's presence snaps him back to himself. He thinks—no, he can't be so reckless… not like this…
So he frowns and says, "Oh you, the rascal… staying like this?"
Humayra's nose reddens with anger; she snaps back, "You rascal… number-one bully, naughty, wolf, slimy, I'll file a police case in your name, you bastard…"
Zubayer is about to reply when—
---
A gust of wind blows a page of Humayra's diary away. At the corner of the page written—👉 "Ihsanul Mahmud Zubayer… you are mine… only mine."
The page falls right by Zubayer's feet. He picks it up. For a moment everything becomes clear in his eyes… Does she still love me? Or has hatred taken its place… the love remains buried in the chest? He reveals nothing.
He hands the page back to Humayra with a faint smile.
For a second Humayra freezes.
Humayra:
"Did he read it? Or did he just return it? If he read it… no, if he had read it he would have slapped me…"
The two stand at the rooftop edge. Dark clouds above, the wet city below. A strange silence in their eyes—as if both know, but no one confesses.
Later at night the dining table is full—fried potatoes, khichuri, beef rezala, salad. The whole family laughs and chatters.
Zubayer sits next to Humayra. Zubayer and Humayra are cousin-siblings—meaning Humayra's mother and Zubayer's mother are paternal cousins.
Humayra lives at Zubayer's house and studies from here because the college is nearby.
Zubayer keeps glancing at Humayra—what hand she uses to eat, how she lifts a glass of water, how her eyes sparkle when she smiles… he's busy watching all those things.
Zubayer:
"You don't know, Huma, someone is watching you… and that someone is me."
Humayra suddenly puts a spoonful of salad on Zubayer's plate. Zubayer's father laughs and says,
"Ah, wife spoils the little roly-poly and feeds him like that?"
(Actually Zubayer's father secretly wants to get Humayra married to some son of his.)
Nearby Zubayer's middle brother Tanvir whispers, "Tell me, do you like her?"
Humayra just smiles. But inside her eyes look different.
Humayra:
"He probably thinks I'm not paying attention… but I note all his habits. Why would he think about such things? Even for a girl like me who has been assaulted before…"
Suddenly her mind grows heavy.
Zubayer doesn't understand what just happened… perhaps a mood swing.
After eating everyone chats and watches TV. Humayra goes to the kitchen and mindlessly washes a glass. Zubayer uses an excuse to come in.
— "I'll help?"
Humayra stares for a few seconds. No—she won't let Zubayer treat her like a burden… She composes herself.
Then she smiles.
— "You? Help? Since when?"
Their laughter cannot be kept inside.
Zubayer's hand comes close to Humayra's hand—pretending to hold a glass. For a second their fingers touch. A current runs through Humayra's body. A slight tremor on her lips… Carelessly she drops the glass; she closes her eyes tightly.
One… two… three.
No sound of breaking; she opens one eye and sees Zubayer looking at her, still holding the glass. She quickly opens her eyes fully—oh God, saved…
At that moment Zubayer's hand holds the glass and, looking at Humayra, she seems frozen—eyes and face contracted—so cute… He feels like popping up and kissing her.
When Humayra starts to walk away, she slips. Immediately her hero Zubayer catches her waist and holds her… In a rush of feeling or fear, Humayra closes her eyes.
Humayra thinks,
"This touch belongs to no one else… only mine."
Seeing this, Zubayer coldly says, "This shameless girl—no shame at all? Whenever she sees a handsome boy like me she falls on him…"
Humayra pouts and says,
"Who's talking about looks, you handsome."
Zubayer roughly pushes Humayra and angrily shouts, "What did you just call me, you rascal?"
—
Suddenly Humayra screams, "Ahhh… Khala-moni (aunt) look what your son is doing 😭🥱… he broke all my bones… aaahhh 😭"
Zubayer is stunned—he never knew this side of the girl…
By then his parents and brothers have rushed in. Zubayer's older brother Ruhan holds Humayra to his chest and says, "Are you hurt anywhere?"
At that moment a vein on Zubayer's forehead bulges—Ruhan touched her? And why didn't she resist? Does she crave boys' touch? When the time comes I'll ask for everything back from you…
Zubu looks at her and Humayra withdraws saying, "My waist hurts… that boy just dumped me down…😭"
Zubayer frowns, "Are you so delicate that your waist would break? Stop being dramatic."
Humayra's crying grows louder.
Suddenly Zubayer's mother tugs her ear and says, "What is this?"
Zubayer's father, understanding the situation, says, "Let's leave them to sort it out." And they walk away. But Humayra smiles slyly.
Suddenly she feels someone lifting her into their arms. She turns and sees Ruhan—Zubayer's eldest brother. When she asked to be put down, Ruhan says,
"Be quiet, don't struggle… I might lose control… you know, I can't resist your touch… let me lay you down in the room."
Humayra then looks at Zubayer and sees him looking—calmly. As if saying, "You will pay for this, you know…"
To be continued...