Golden Dreams 🏵️

(In Memory of the Milestone School Plane Crash Victims)
— Zahidul Jamy

I am Oni…
I used to rest my hands on the school window and say,
“When I grow up, I’ll be an astronaut!”
But today, the sky has turned to flames
And fallen into my eyes—
No more dreams, only burned hands remain…

I am Rafi…
I used to paint. Sir would say,
“You’ll be a great artist one day!”
But now my colors are lost
In the black hole of smoke,
My fingers are gone—
Only the pencil cries quietly…

I am Samira…
I used to recite poems in class:
“My Bangladesh, my golden land…”
But now that land’s roof has collapsed
Over my head like an eternal farewell.
Our teacher once said,
“Be careful on the stairs!”
Today she lies beside us—
A notebook in one hand,
A dead flower in the other.
It feels like she’s still writing on the board:
“Sacrificed Lives – Today’s Lesson.”

The school bell didn’t ring today,
Yet everyone left—silently.
Rows of empty shoes,
Blood-stained badges,
The board still holds the quiet line:
“My First Poem.”

Our mothers rushed in crying,
But we will not return.
We are asleep, but not in sleep—
For in this sleep, there are no dreams.
In this sleep, there are no eyes…

These were our golden dreams.
Each schoolbag stood
Like a window of hope—
Now turned to ashes,
Scattered over the giant city.

And to those of you still alive—listen:
This death is not just death.
This cry is not just sorrow.
This grief is a nation’s burden.
We only wanted to dream…
Just a single dream.

July 21, 2025