In the middle of the forest, Wahid went through the other coast of the lake. He might have a headache, looking at the yin-yang that was glittered around the sunlight. The lake and the forests, as well as the hills look beautiful with beautiful clouds waving. Cool breeze waved a lot that Wahid was enjoying quietly. However, Arshi walked into the coastline of the lake and sat beside him. Wahid was smiling at her. For the first time, he was as fresh as the sea water.

"Wahid, you look happier than ever. By the way, how did you and Arshad survived at the attack?" asked Arshi.

"According to the yin-yang theory, if an infinity and yang are together. As yang can be anyone positive, they could be protected by the infinity. Thanks to the amulet that brightened our minds, we were protected from the attack. Even the yin-yang cured Ama Didi's insanity, but Ronjon couldn't because there was a bit of yin here. Yin is a negative force, while yang is positive. However, if both are together, there will be infinity. That's how we survived, but the church's priest and the temple's monk could have been survived but at that time, they weren't purified before sleep" said Wahid.

"I know. Anyway, I need to tell you about something" said Arshi.

"About what?," said Wahid softly.

"Despite your training with Myour dad, how did you tame Arzgog so easily?" asked Arshi.

"Oh, that? We've been fighting with him since the beginning. Despite our powers and such, we've reconsidered our differences. Aside that, we've known for such cases such as being kind with the criminals, as per our ethics-is to interview them with some charm ahead. However, if they turn out to be aggressive, in defense we've too had to utilize survival tactics. As you cops just have done your action, both substantially and spiritually, I just tried to observe the situation. Anyway, do you have evidences of Shabnaz's crimes?" said Wahid.

Arshi took out her cellphones. There were pictures of Shabnaz who was hooded and kidnapped women when they were conscious. Some of the dead bodies were abandoned. Even, she showed some DNA reports that were sent by the doctor from Crime Branch Post Mortem. Wahid was shocked and collected from his email to keep it confidential. Wahid was a bit unsettled with his feeling, upset but satisfied.

"I know, it's terrible for you, my love. You've lost your mom and your wife, at you've got something better. But in my case, the reason that I've used to suspect you during high school was that, my dad and mom had an 'unhappy' marriage. Then, mom married to another man that infuriated him. That library incident was the time, I was constantly reminded of my mom. Then I've thrown your anger into you. Until, I've joined the police force, travelling the world, not only to solve crimes but also to understand the psychology of human beings. Until, I've seen my father dying, on his deathbed. He said that, we shouldn't be harsh on ourselves, because we are human and certainly have flaws. That was the moment that, I've realized my folly. Then, when I've seen my boss and your editor were friends, he mentioned proudly of you. A week later, he posted me to be on Meghpur. I've been looking for you, just to let you know, how much I missed you. Then, you've arrived, all these happened and now, our love looked real. Then, I realized the reason I loved you, it's because of your support and encouragement that I've been longing from the people I've dated. But it was a disastrous moment that, I couldn't understood the essence of love, until my father died and you arrived to take me a second chance" said Arshi.

"Never thought of that, you have also suffered a more terrible fate than I am. But you're a brave one, at least you haven't doubted on me this time. Now that, you've faith on me, you also have cared for me too. I never expected it, although, when I said 'I'm naked', you still were patient, and you are" said Wahid.

"Why are you so furious on Samar?" asked Arshi.

"Not furious, but he just lost his ways as a person. We've parted ways. Otherwise, it's for another time" said Wahid.

"It's great to be with you for longer!" said Arshi.

"Love you" said Wahid.

"Love you too" said Arshi.

Wahid was walking through the forest. There, he saw Shamsher who was smiling and taking some herbs, especially lemon, mint, rosemary and chili. His disturbed soul turned peaceful in one way or the other. He was no longer the man with a long black shawl, instead with a white cloak who was clean and moreover, delightful.

"Life is a graveyard, is it?" said Shamsher.

"What about the afterlife?," said Wahid.

"Afterlife is precious. Some says it to be a blessing and for some, it's a justice for nature. But I hear some spirits talk about it too. It's like if someone has that unconscious mind, the energy vibrates into a black hole, just to end its cycle or path. I don't heal because I am a healer, but I cure diseases with utmost dedication to show what their purposes are" said Shamsher.

"Well, how did you know that I am Marcello's son?" asked Wahid.

"The gravedigger could observe a person deeply. It's like the science of deduction from Sherlock Holmes, like post mortems or a morgue, it's a process of systematic conclusions. I mastered the art of spiritual purification and deeper connection with Devine. Also known as Sufism, that's why, I am not surprised at the worldly things, except for the absurdity of the people" said Shamsher.

"You are too mysterious!" said Wahid.

"I might be a gravedigger or a healer, but I have my own ethics and principles that prevent me for going to prison. I never declared myself as a holy man, but as a simple person. Hence, you know what you know" said Shamsher.

"Why was the ruin burnt?" asked Wahid.

"The ruin was for a longer story that...I remember, a roadside restaurant in Meghpur. But on the other hand, it was a castle that was from a king whose heir didn't maintained their legacy. That's why the castle was used as a ruin. But, Shabnaz! That devil was so blinded by her father's love that she crossed the limit as a Stockholm syndrome. Her father, Sheikh used to have intimacy with her as such that she doesn't understand the good and worst aspects of it. Until, she learnt about it, it was too late for her to get back to light. She was quite secretive of everything and manipulated a lot of people, and some were afraid to dispose Khalil and Shabnaz. Their daughter, Mahima is naïve to understand the world but Ayesha and your goodwill changed her life to the better" said Shamsher.

"That's really generous of you, dear uncle" complimented Wahid.

"Not a problem at all. All's good that ends the best" said Shamsher.

As in the valley, Ama Didi, Mahima and Mursheda were sleeping peacefully after a long time. Khalil, looking at his daughter, reminded of the sweet memories that might never triggered him for greater good. On the other hand, Asif cleaned up the library and a lot of teenagers, learnt a lot of stories and other books from there. He was pleasant. In that way, Galel was freely helping the new hermit Yuan and priest Francis to gather, plus preach around the people in Meghpur. Zuleikha was singing and took her father to the doctor for the checkup. Then, she happily help him to the farm. Wilson got a lot of money from his dues taken by Ronjon that even helped the mill work better than ever.

Lastly, Wahid walked through a hill that was filled with colorful flowers and corn fields. The sunlight reflected the greenery of the hills that the cool breeze waved its way. Butterflies were flying to observe the flowers and grounds were clean. He saw that his father was playing a flute. Wahid took out the piper from his bag pack.

The music was solemn that even Ama Didi was looking at the window, smiling and said "The New Hope Has Begun".

When Wahid approached, Marcello stopped the music and looked at him.

"Hey, junior!" said Marcello.

"Dad, may I join the flute with you? Umm...before that, you've read a lot of books and which one of those stories that reminded you of us?" asked Wahid.

"I might be reminded of a story from Mitra Mazumder's 'Thakuma'r Jhuli' or 'Grandma's Tales'. Although, another version of the tale is from Rajasthan, India by the name 'Duvidha' or 'Dilemma'. Our version is by the name 'A Ghost and A Monk Merchant' or 'Bhramon er Bhoot'. Remember, not all monks are unmarried.

It begins with a happy Monk who was going on a trip to the pilgrimage of Banaras from then Kolkata that was also a part of Bangladesh. Until he was about to return from there, in midway to the sea, the Sailor and the monk were crossing a Hindu pyre yard. There, a Spirit was trapped and the moment that he saw the monk, the Ghost almost sank the boat with a thunderstorm. However, it impersonated the Monk and tricked the Sailor to go to their house.

The Wife and the Mother greeted him. However, he was eating sweets as if he was too hungry for a longer time. His Mom did suspect it, but not the Wife who was tired of serving his food. Luckily, the real Monk survived. He swam and got into the house. Both the wife and mother got shocked and devastated. The Ghost and the Monk were complaining at each other for the impersonation.

Then, his wise mother decided to get him to the King. The King and his Vizier asked questions but they've answered so correctly that the King was confused.

Then the Vizier got an idea. He took a bottle and asked if one of them could enter that bottle. The Ghost turned into a smoke and got into the bottle. The vizier trapped him so well that The Spirit couldn't be able to get out of it. After that, the monk placed the bottle carefully in the seaside and never to be seen again.

This is the folklore I remember, along with the lines of Alexander Dumas's 'The Count of Monte Cristo', although different, despite having the similar element" said Marco.

"I see" said Wahid.

"Let's join" said Marco.

Marco continued to play the flute, while Wahid joined him. While playing, a lot of people in Meghpur were dancing the tunes of their music. It was a wonderful experience for both people who lost their love but didn't give up to honor them.

"Who are you playing it to?" asked Marco.

"The love of my life" said Wahid.

They were continued to play the flute. Until, Wahid's phone vibrated. He picked up the call. A familiar voice surrounded into his ears-his boss, Mr. Chowdhury.

"Hey Wahid, I received all your journals and photos from your mail" said Mr. Chowdhury.

"Sir, I have a last part of the journal, getting to the account" said Wahid.

"Will receive it too. By the way, nice music" said Mr. Chowdhury.

"It's my dad who's playing" said Wahid.

"Oh, your dad? I must meet him in person! Anyway, you got a new case to handle" said Mr. Chowdhury.

"What case?" asked Wahid.

"There had been accidents on the airport road, lately. You need to come back to Dhaka, right now!" said Mr. Chowdhury.

"Wait, what?" said Wahid.

Marco finished playing the flute. He saw Wahid who looked anxious.

"What happened son?" asked Marco.

"Your daughter-in-law has returned" said Wahid.

Marco smiled.

There might be ups and downs in every place. But what we need to do is to forgive but some might not deserve it, unless they have redeeming qualities. Human beings are bound to do mistakes but rectifying them would make a difference. Our unity will always land upon, even in greater threats. So that we must survive it in the best way as possible. Everything is connected, while fluctuations can be reformed in a way to understand and explore ourselves. At some point, we need to take a break, just to make a new version of ourselves. Hence, it is what it is.

THE END