You don’t remember, do you? We imagined walking together, but we couldn't. Back in the day, we imagined staying together, but we couldn’t. We dreamed of cooking in a cauldron (বড় কড়াই), but never sat down together. We dreamed of going to the moon, but never got there. And yet here we are, digging through the wreckage of a dream unfulfilled. Each fragment holds the memory of something we once believed was possible. We keep gathering these fragments, build and rebuild the same dream, only to see it fall apart again. What remains is the road between these unfinished efforts. Perhaps utopia never begins, or ends. Perhaps it exists only in the act of remembering, of gathering, of imagining together as long as we keep on doing so. We still lie under the Royal Poinciana (কৃষ্ণচূড়া) tree, which, although not native to our country, has learned to bloom here.