I miss you.

Bangladesh my home, I miss you.

I miss waking up to the red sunrise.

I miss my kids meeting me at the gates and calling my name.

I miss singing you all to sleep.

I miss telling stories.

I miss giving hugs.

I miss appa de bows.

I miss rice.

I miss dirt.

I miss badminton and 5 crowns.

I miss street kids and hawkers.

I miss the smog.

I miss the people.

I miss everything.

Bangladesh when will I come see you again? I dont know. But I know I will not be able to stay away too long.