In every culture there are ways in which one is expected to behave, rules set to differentiate between the good and the bad, the right and the wrong. Norms established to castigate those who exhibit actions of deviation, and step into the not-to-be-talked-about other side, to the chamber of demons and grotesque evil that turns them into one of their own. Yet how many of us have actually been there? Is it really a chamber where red tongued demons float about in harmonious vice and lick the blood of the innocent? Or is it the superficial image imposed in our minds so lucidly by the even more superficial society? Isn’t it the same society where the discrepancy between the rich and the poor exemplify the dysfunctional county that we call home?
It amuses me how the perpetual fear of actions that may be frowned upon by society are obliged religiously by us, the middleclass people of the society. Getting a divorce, seeing a mental health consultant or even the innocent friendships between two young people of the opposite sex, let alone dating, are only a few examples of such actions. You and I may regard these as some common phenomenon that are often necessary and are completely viable. Nevertheless, I can still recall the perturbation that occurred in my family when my aunt was compelled to end her marriage after having been severely abused. She and her husband resided in London back then, where he ensured that she was always locked inside the house. He beat her up in front of their young children, scarred her body with cigarette burns and even forced her head down the toilet. The reasons for such atrocious actions were because of the stunning beauty that my aunt was, and because her husband was unable to quell his paranoia regarding her. Even looking outside the window would arouse suspicion in her husband. Eventually after the turmoil with the divorce subsided, the untold conclusion agreed upon by society and much of the family was that my aunt was to be blamed; for it is the female who should be more considerate, who should endure the heinous tortures and keep the marriage going. She has ever since isolated herself from the world and has been living in a dark little room in my grandmother’s colossal house in Banani for the last 15 years, refusing to speak with anybody or willing to leave her room, if not for the utmost necessity. She is on the brink of silent insanity. Her teenage children had once came back after 13 years to take their mother back home, but a woman who has become apathetic towards all human relationships couldn’t accept the offer to be with her children. How can I still wish to support a society that has impaired a mother’s emotions to such an extent that she has lost the desire to want to be with her children? The question is yours to answer.
In today’s advanced world, when feminism is being prioritized to the maximum, we the Bangalis still find it difficult to conform to the fact that an incompatible marriage is a marriage impossible to be consummated. Women are expected to bear whatever the circumstances maybe to make a marriage work. The instant the marriage ends it is the woman to be censured, to be eyed with much contempt. Our actions only consolidate the fact that regardless of the numerous television shows on human/female rights, newspaper articles narrating stories of abused women, the existence of feminism in our society is still to be questioned.
It is true that for every society or nation to function orderly there should be laws introduced to reprimand the ones who fail or refuse to act accordingly. What would be a valid explanation for wrong? Is it wrong for a young child to want what is not his own? I can inevitably assume you will disagree for the child doesn’t know what he should or should not want. The idea of wrong and right various with age groups, personalities and background. Yet how can we so easily claim that a person is wrong if in fact what we perceive to be wrong might be right to several others? Of course those committing crimes such as murder or robbery should palpably be penalized by the state laws, but what about the petty street muggers? Had it ever occurred to you why mugging has increased so much in recent times? Had the crime rate been so high if resources were properly allocated and there had been more employment? With the insane rate of inflation every single person of the country is struggling to go through yet another day. I myself know how much a 100tk. note is worth and how difficult it is for middleclass people like us to persevere living a decent life. On top of the struggle for survival we are also expected to behave in a socially and politically correct manner and steer clear of the judgments society might throw upon us.
My father often drags me to weddings or social gatherings of people that I don’t even acknowledge and often detest, against my own will. I ask him why. He says ‘You have to be social, people expect you to be there’ I tell him ‘Are they the same people who would be there for me when I would really need a little help? Are these the people who would empathize with me in my times of trouble?’ I ask him the questions for in my twenty years of life I have had enough experience of human behavior, have had experienced the real troubles of life and have seen more of how selfish the society can be than most people, around me, twice my age have. Yet I consider myself to be exceptionally lucky to be where I am, because I know of the hardships that the people of our country go through that are nothing compared to what I had experienced.
In our dominant conservative society, freedom of speech or a candid expression is strictly prohibited. How do we continue to rely and willingly opt to abide by the rules set by society, when the ones who control the society seldom act according to their lofty words? When they are dinning with Satan himself and pointing fingers at us? When their sons and daughters are associated with all they have identified as wrong while they sit around and pass sardonic judgments on you and your offspring? Perhaps we are blind, blind to see all the obscenities, the injustice and the sycophancy so impeccably hidden. Or rather, are we frightened? Frightened of being labeled, being known in society as ‘the one’ who broke the rules and ‘the one' that should be discriminated and questioned, better yet discarded?
It goes beyond us to notice the intolerance that curbs our society. How many times have you shooed away a starving beggar for whom only a mere 2tk. would have sufficed and how many times have you spent thousands on KFC chicken and sizzling steaks? Before the previous statement misleads you, I would like to clarity that I am not against enjoying a fancy dinner; rather I myself grasp the opportunity when I am given one. But it just gets me perplexed as to why it is so difficult for the people in the posh cars who live in their own little world of glitz, to apprehend that they can assuage the hunger of at least one unfortunate battered child a day.
If it is an entire community that comprises of this so-called society, then why are only a certain group of vulnerable people to be questioned and victimized by clever ruses? I think it is time for all of us to take a moment and ponder about how our life functions for it is you who can make a difference. We are a free nation, but sadly enough, we are yet to be fully emancipated.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Lacking in coherence
These brief breaks are anything but pleasent.
With a 1000 trivial and unimaginably irritable issues transformed into intransient, clingy thoughts, circuits and electronics are having much difficulty in penetrating through my impermiable brain. Coming to think of it, it is not only the thoughts, which even though seems intansient now, will eventually turn out to be ephimeral with passing time; rather it is the sheer annoyance of studying electronics that makes me want to jump off my terrace in one swift motion! Yet here I am, writting down random thoughts when my electronics final exam will commence at 8 in the bloody winter morning of tomorrow! Damnit! It is 9:26 pm and counting. If only we could devise a mechanism to alter the flow of time...sigh..
With a 1000 trivial and unimaginably irritable issues transformed into intransient, clingy thoughts, circuits and electronics are having much difficulty in penetrating through my impermiable brain. Coming to think of it, it is not only the thoughts, which even though seems intansient now, will eventually turn out to be ephimeral with passing time; rather it is the sheer annoyance of studying electronics that makes me want to jump off my terrace in one swift motion! Yet here I am, writting down random thoughts when my electronics final exam will commence at 8 in the bloody winter morning of tomorrow! Damnit! It is 9:26 pm and counting. If only we could devise a mechanism to alter the flow of time...sigh..
Friday, December 7, 2007
In Guise of Law Enforcers
On November 28 2007, City Monetary Exchange was raided by members of the Joint Forces. The raid turned out to be a hoax and the law enforcers turned out to be robbers dressed in police and army uniform. Writes Kutubuddin Kamal
For Chan Mia, chairman of the City Monetary Exchange, it was just another working day. Even when nine men dressed in army and police uniforms arrived at his gate identifying themselves as members of the joint forces, he was more baffled than frightened. They demanded to see the company’s legal papers and transactions, and Chan Mia and his cashier were happy to comply to get whatever the complication was sorted out quickly, without any dispute. But they did not realise that the checks were merely a ruse, and after they had finished, Chan Mia found himself having been robbed of Tk.17 lakh in cash. The incident occurred on November 28 at around 3:00pm, on the ground floor of the Baitul Khair building in Purana Paltan. Md. Kamrul Hasan, the managing director of the company and the son of Chan Mia, usually looked after the management and transactions of the exchange but was absent on that particular day. Kamrul was at the airport leaving for Hajj, while his father was left in charge of the company. ‘The collapsible gate of the compound was open, and only the cashier and I were working; the rest of the employees were either out on work or had gone to the mosque for prayers’ says Chan Mia. Chan Mia explains that a total of nine men entered the compound, three of whom wore army uniforms, two in police uniforms and the four others in civil wear. ‘The men’s attitude and manner were of those with legal authority,’ says Chan Mia. ‘They even had “army” haircuts and were tall with robust physiques; features that are typical of army personnel’ The men entered through the open door and greeted Chan Mia in a very official manner. Those in army uniforms demanded to see the company’s legal documents, transactions and statements. One of the others locked the door behind him and stood guard to make sure no one entered or left the compound. ‘I always keep my papers up to date and send monthly reports to the Bangladesh Bank, so I was quite certain that they wouldn’t find anything wrong with the documents’ says Chan Mia. Chan Mia hurriedly gathered the required documents, while the men dressed in army uniforms discreetly took note of where Chan Mia’s safe was located. Meanwhile the men in police and civil attire went behind the counter where the cashier sat, and began emptying the cash register and started filling their bags with money and every other document in sight. ‘Aside from money from the cash register, they took all the paperwork that they could find, including several of my diaries with important contact numbers and information,’ says Chan Mia. Back in the room with the safe, the men studied the documents thoroughly and abruptly asked Chan Mia to open the locker. Although taken aback by the sudden command, Chan Mia brought out the key without much hesitation and was about to unlock the safe, when one of the men snatched the key from him and unlocked the safe himself. Within the next few seconds Chan Mia found himself blindfolded and forced to sit on a chair. In the meantime the cashier was blindfolded as well by the other men, as they finished stuffing their bags with all the documents and cash that were obtainable from the counter. After having completed their task behind the counter, the men in civil wear and police uniforms took mobile sets and money from the customers who were present at the compound during the made-up raid. ‘They asked me not to make any sound, and I had no idea of what was going on,’ recalls Chan Mia. ‘One of them asked me to present all the documents and transactions at the Motijheel Thana.’ Till then, Chan Mia was completely unaware of the activities taking place in the other sections of the store. Outside, owners, salesmen and customers from other stores began crowding around, but keeping a safe distance from the exchange compound, in anticipation of learning what was going on. ‘My owner went close to the collapsible gates of the compound, when a man dressed in a police uniform commanded him to get back into his store’ says Abdus Sattar of AB Card Center. ‘No one dared to speak or question them on what was going on,’ says Unus Ali (Not real name), another witness to the incident. Most of the other witnesses said that the people from surrounding stores all watched in silence, but none dared to get close to the guarded collapsible gate. ‘When I finally heard footsteps fading away, I removed the blindfold and rushed out to find that they had left with my cashier as a captive’ recalls Chan Mia. ‘Petrified, I went to my landlord and explained what had happened; I still oblivious of the fact that whatever happened was the execution of a robbery.’ ‘When I called the Motijheel Thana, they said that they were unaware of any such raid to have taken place,’ says Chan Mia, adding that the Paltan Thana and Army Camp also expressed ignorance towards the raid. ‘At that point, when I realised that there was the possibility of it having been a robbery, I was more worried about my employee than the money. The men left in the minivan with which they arrived, taking with them a blindfolded and terrified Abdus Samad, the cashier. ‘They didn’t beat me or hurt me’ says Samad. He was later dropped off near the Tejgaon Press Club. ‘They said that they would drop me off here and a major’s car that was following behind would pick me up,’ adds Samad. He also mentions that, during the entire time that he was in the vehicle, the men talked about camps and men in the army; in general, the ways in which army personnel would speak.’ The entire operation took place within a mere 7-10 minutes reflecting the expertise of such men. They took a reported Tk.17 Lakh, consisting of $12,450 USD, 2,100 Euro and approximately 6 and a half Lakh taka. Chan Mia, however, still has difficulty in accepting what has happened. ‘The police stations and RAB kept my full statements, but I confessed that it was still difficult for me to believe that the men were robbers,’ says Chan Mia. ‘With the current state of emergency under the interim government, civilians don’t dare question orders, hence, it had never occurred to me to ask for any identification cards from the men; I didn’t want to get into any trouble.’ A case has been filed with the Paltan Thana. The OC of Paltan Thana, Farid Ahmed said that investigations are underway, but no suspects were yet to be identified as of the December 3, five days since the infamous robbery took place. Although the police could not report of any development in the investigation, the Dhaka Metropolitan Police commissioner, Naim Ahmed tells New Age that the Detective Branch has been additionally assigned to work on the case. With the enduring state of emergency and the monopoly power shared by the RAB and Army, civilians are living under a constant fear of the supposedly invincible authority. In the process, criminals or robbers are performing such atrocious crimes, taking full advantage of the civilian’s vulnerability.
For Chan Mia, chairman of the City Monetary Exchange, it was just another working day. Even when nine men dressed in army and police uniforms arrived at his gate identifying themselves as members of the joint forces, he was more baffled than frightened. They demanded to see the company’s legal papers and transactions, and Chan Mia and his cashier were happy to comply to get whatever the complication was sorted out quickly, without any dispute. But they did not realise that the checks were merely a ruse, and after they had finished, Chan Mia found himself having been robbed of Tk.17 lakh in cash. The incident occurred on November 28 at around 3:00pm, on the ground floor of the Baitul Khair building in Purana Paltan. Md. Kamrul Hasan, the managing director of the company and the son of Chan Mia, usually looked after the management and transactions of the exchange but was absent on that particular day. Kamrul was at the airport leaving for Hajj, while his father was left in charge of the company. ‘The collapsible gate of the compound was open, and only the cashier and I were working; the rest of the employees were either out on work or had gone to the mosque for prayers’ says Chan Mia. Chan Mia explains that a total of nine men entered the compound, three of whom wore army uniforms, two in police uniforms and the four others in civil wear. ‘The men’s attitude and manner were of those with legal authority,’ says Chan Mia. ‘They even had “army” haircuts and were tall with robust physiques; features that are typical of army personnel’ The men entered through the open door and greeted Chan Mia in a very official manner. Those in army uniforms demanded to see the company’s legal documents, transactions and statements. One of the others locked the door behind him and stood guard to make sure no one entered or left the compound. ‘I always keep my papers up to date and send monthly reports to the Bangladesh Bank, so I was quite certain that they wouldn’t find anything wrong with the documents’ says Chan Mia. Chan Mia hurriedly gathered the required documents, while the men dressed in army uniforms discreetly took note of where Chan Mia’s safe was located. Meanwhile the men in police and civil attire went behind the counter where the cashier sat, and began emptying the cash register and started filling their bags with money and every other document in sight. ‘Aside from money from the cash register, they took all the paperwork that they could find, including several of my diaries with important contact numbers and information,’ says Chan Mia. Back in the room with the safe, the men studied the documents thoroughly and abruptly asked Chan Mia to open the locker. Although taken aback by the sudden command, Chan Mia brought out the key without much hesitation and was about to unlock the safe, when one of the men snatched the key from him and unlocked the safe himself. Within the next few seconds Chan Mia found himself blindfolded and forced to sit on a chair. In the meantime the cashier was blindfolded as well by the other men, as they finished stuffing their bags with all the documents and cash that were obtainable from the counter. After having completed their task behind the counter, the men in civil wear and police uniforms took mobile sets and money from the customers who were present at the compound during the made-up raid. ‘They asked me not to make any sound, and I had no idea of what was going on,’ recalls Chan Mia. ‘One of them asked me to present all the documents and transactions at the Motijheel Thana.’ Till then, Chan Mia was completely unaware of the activities taking place in the other sections of the store. Outside, owners, salesmen and customers from other stores began crowding around, but keeping a safe distance from the exchange compound, in anticipation of learning what was going on. ‘My owner went close to the collapsible gates of the compound, when a man dressed in a police uniform commanded him to get back into his store’ says Abdus Sattar of AB Card Center. ‘No one dared to speak or question them on what was going on,’ says Unus Ali (Not real name), another witness to the incident. Most of the other witnesses said that the people from surrounding stores all watched in silence, but none dared to get close to the guarded collapsible gate. ‘When I finally heard footsteps fading away, I removed the blindfold and rushed out to find that they had left with my cashier as a captive’ recalls Chan Mia. ‘Petrified, I went to my landlord and explained what had happened; I still oblivious of the fact that whatever happened was the execution of a robbery.’ ‘When I called the Motijheel Thana, they said that they were unaware of any such raid to have taken place,’ says Chan Mia, adding that the Paltan Thana and Army Camp also expressed ignorance towards the raid. ‘At that point, when I realised that there was the possibility of it having been a robbery, I was more worried about my employee than the money. The men left in the minivan with which they arrived, taking with them a blindfolded and terrified Abdus Samad, the cashier. ‘They didn’t beat me or hurt me’ says Samad. He was later dropped off near the Tejgaon Press Club. ‘They said that they would drop me off here and a major’s car that was following behind would pick me up,’ adds Samad. He also mentions that, during the entire time that he was in the vehicle, the men talked about camps and men in the army; in general, the ways in which army personnel would speak.’ The entire operation took place within a mere 7-10 minutes reflecting the expertise of such men. They took a reported Tk.17 Lakh, consisting of $12,450 USD, 2,100 Euro and approximately 6 and a half Lakh taka. Chan Mia, however, still has difficulty in accepting what has happened. ‘The police stations and RAB kept my full statements, but I confessed that it was still difficult for me to believe that the men were robbers,’ says Chan Mia. ‘With the current state of emergency under the interim government, civilians don’t dare question orders, hence, it had never occurred to me to ask for any identification cards from the men; I didn’t want to get into any trouble.’ A case has been filed with the Paltan Thana. The OC of Paltan Thana, Farid Ahmed said that investigations are underway, but no suspects were yet to be identified as of the December 3, five days since the infamous robbery took place. Although the police could not report of any development in the investigation, the Dhaka Metropolitan Police commissioner, Naim Ahmed tells New Age that the Detective Branch has been additionally assigned to work on the case. With the enduring state of emergency and the monopoly power shared by the RAB and Army, civilians are living under a constant fear of the supposedly invincible authority. In the process, criminals or robbers are performing such atrocious crimes, taking full advantage of the civilian’s vulnerability.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
'No Less Than 100 Taka'
Commuters are being harassed by CNG drivers who refuse short distances and ask for exorbitant fares ignoring the metres. The drivers meanwhile are held captive by owners while owners blame rising prices. Kutubuddin Kamal explores the vicious cycle
photos by Andrew Biraj
Yasmeen Ahmed stands in front of the Shooting Complex in Gulshan, carrying two bulky jute bags in both hands as she eagerly keeps looking both ways for a CNG auto-rickshaw. She was on her way to Mohammadpur Preparatory Girls College where she has been teaching for the last eleven years. It was 7:00am and as she anxiously waits, several CNG auto-rickshaws drive by, but none wants to take her to her desired destination. Finally after fifteen long minutes she manages to get a CNG auto-rickshaw but the driver insists on being paid Tk 80 to take her to Mohammadpur on a ‘contract’. The usual fare from Gulshan-1 to Mohammadpur is about Tk 50-60 depending on the flow of traffic, whereas the driver asked for an additional Tk 20 over the meter fare
‘It is still much easier to get an auto-rickshaw in the morning,’ says Yasmeen ‘after work I have to linger in the streets for at least an hour in the scorching sun to get a CNG.’ She regrets the fact that the government or relevant authority is unable to handle this dreadful situation that seems to worsen by the day and harasses commuters intolerably. This is just one case amongst the several thousand CNG commuters who are compelled to endure similar circumstances. It is not unknown to most citizens of the trouble one has to go through to convince an auto-rickshaw driver to take a fare.
‘I have to pay a fare of Tk 60 on ‘contract’ to come to my university in Banani,’ says Aumiya Nasir who resides in Indira Road. ‘It usually takes around 15-20 minutes before I can get a CNG auto-rickshaw that is willing to go to Banani.’
Ever since CNG metered auto-rickshaws have been introduced in 2003, the complaints and distress of local commuters have been massive. Despite the assurance by the police, that CNG drivers are bound to take any fare irrespective of the distance or location, has never been the case. Drivers of three-wheelers began by asking for a little extra money, about Tk 5-10 over the fare determined by the meter. Eventually they started to demand as much as Tk 20 over the meter fare. In recent months the meter is seldom used by auto-rickshaw drivers who take fares on ‘contracts’. Over the last couple of months auto-rickshaw drivers are reportedly refusing to agree at any fare offered by commuters. They usually prefer long distance trips and that also has to be to a location of their choice.
In April, the interim government introduced a new fare chart for CNG auto-rickshaws. The new chart increases the fare for the first two kilometers from Tk 12 to Tk 13.5, while the fare per kilometer has been increased from Tk 5.0 to 5.5. The daily rental has been set to Tk 450 from Tk 300. The revised chart was anticipated to reduce the variance between commuters, drivers and owners but ironically it seems to have made it worse.
‘I just asked a driver if he would go to Dhanmondi and he said ‘no’, I asked him if he would go to any of the places among Panthapath, Mohmmadpur and Mirpur and he drove by without even replying,’ says one frustrated Naimul Haq, a private service holder who was outraged for having to wait for an auto rickshaw in Mohakhali for over an hour after office.
‘I do not understand where these drivers would want to go to and this kind of behavior is infuriating.’ This recent trend is stirring up aggravation among commuters whose only means of transportation are the CNG auto-rickshaws due to the cheaper fare compared to taxi cabs. Hence, commuters have their hands tied and despite their unwillingness to agree to take rides on ‘contract’ they are not given the privilege of other options.
‘It is understandable that due to the large amount of deposit that the drivers have to pay to the auto-rickshaw owners, they ask for extra money,’ says Kazi, a buisnessman. ‘But it is simply deplorable that they demand absurd fares for ‘contract’ and refuse to go where we ask them to.’
However, the drivers of three wheelers say that they are living in such desperate conditions and the only way for them to support their families is by taking extra money from their passengers.
‘I have to pay a daily rent of Tk 550 to the owner,’ says Noyon, a CNG driver. ‘With the terrible traffic jams and large queues at CNG filling stations, there is not enough time for us to even manage the deposit money. If we are to abide by the fare set by the meter we will lose our jobs and fail to support our families.’
‘When a 15 minute ride takes an hour and thirty minutes, what can I do but go on contracts?’ asks fifty year old auto-rickshaw driver, Md. Abul Hossain. ‘I have to pay a monthly house rent of Tk 3600 and with other expenses considered, such as groceries and children’s school fees, around Tk 12000 – 13000 have to be spent each month. If the owners violate the law set for a deposit money of Tk 450, is it our fault that we demand extra money to run our families?’
‘Driving an auto-rickshaw is a very exhausting job and even after driving for the entire day, I am left with a mere maximum of Tk 200 each day after paying the daily deposit,’ says Lal mia.
Most drivers claim that they are threatened of being fired if they refuse to pay the daily rental as set by their owners which ranges from Tk 600 – 700. Also, owners are having their auto-rickshaws driven on shifts by two drivers in a day. Hence a driver, who used to drive for 12 hours before, has to pay the same amount by driving for only four to six hours. In the process the owners earn about a whopping Tk 1200 each day which is Tk 750 more than the set daily deposit. After the new fare chart has been announced, the police and RAB are known to have filed cases against drivers who demand extra money from commuters and even their driver’s licenses have been seized.
‘Before we could bribe the police with Tk 100 – 200 but now it is even difficult to comprehend if they are willing to take the money. Mostly such offers leads to more trouble,’ says driver Reza who resides in Badda.
The chairman of Bangladesh Road and Transport Authority (BRTA) ABM Shahjahan agrees that many owners are taking a daily rental of more than Tk 450 but states that there isn’t anything that can be done.
‘We have revised the fare chart and increased the daily rental to help decrease this conflict,’ says Shajahan ‘Yet if the drivers continue to exploit commuters there is only one solution, that is the commuters should take the three wheeler to the nearest police station and the police will take the necessary action required to punish the driver.’ He also adds that several drivers have been sent to jail for overcharging passengers and owners against whom written complaints were obtained, had their road permits seized and registrations cancelled. Also, mobile courts are functioning across the city. Shajahan mentions that no future steps can be taken, to act as a permanent solution.
MH Iqbal, the secretary of Dhaka CNG Auto-Rickshaw Malik Shamity, denied a widespread of such accusations against auto-rickshaw owners regarding exploitation of drivers. ‘There maybe one or two such rare cases where owners exploit drivers by taking a daily rental of over Tk. 450. Strict actions have been taken against such owners and their auto-rickshaws have been confiscated,’ says Iqbal. He mentions that the Malik Shamilty negotiates with the CNG Drivers Association often, and usually when asked why they refuse fares, the drivers deny such actions.
‘I am an owner of an auto-rickshaw myself, but I am also a commuter and I am aware of the harassment a commuter has to go through because of the unreasonable contracts,’ agrees Iqbal. ‘We earnestly ask the drivers to at least take fares and not leave people stranded on the streets for hours.’
Most owners deny the accusations set against them while some acknowledge it.
‘I have three auto-rickshaws and my drivers are willing to pay Tk 500 if they are allowed to drive till 10pm,’ said Shoma, a banker ‘Most of us perceive the drivers to have earned a tiny amount at the end of the day but surprisingly my drivers told me that they are able to earn at least Tk 300 daily.’
ATM Nazmul Hassan, the Secretary of Dhaka Mohanogor CNG Babsha Malik Shamity, deeply regrets the current situation and says that he has been urgently attempting to improve this disturbing trend. ‘It is true that CNG owners take more than the set rental of Tk 450, but with the appalling rate of recent inflation, it is impossible for even the owners to lead a decent life,’ says Nazmul. He explains that the price of mobil has rocketed from Tk 120 – 200 in recent times and that the tax rate is so high it becomes terribly difficult for owners to import engine parts and maintain their vehicles. ‘The current situation needs immediate attention, as both the owners and the drivers cannot continue to function in this manner,’ says Nazmul. ‘I have taken various steps and even written a letter of prayer to the communication advisor to look into the matter but I am yet to receive a reply.’ He explains that the only solution is to reduce the percentage of tax and inflation if the government is willing to keep this sector working and provide a long-term solution. ‘Through New Age I would like to plead to the government to help make conditions better.’
If the authority is indifferent towards such unethical actions after having introduced the new fare chart, how can the circumstances improve? With 2500 CNG drivers in the country and the number of commuters three times that amount, can a fair solution be attained whereby commuters would be relieved of their daily harassment and both auto-rickshaw drivers and owners would be satisfied?
‘I am willing to pay a little extra money over the meter fair, but I would at least like to be assured that drivers wouldn’t refuse to take fares,’ says Yasmeen
photos by Andrew Biraj
Yasmeen Ahmed stands in front of the Shooting Complex in Gulshan, carrying two bulky jute bags in both hands as she eagerly keeps looking both ways for a CNG auto-rickshaw. She was on her way to Mohammadpur Preparatory Girls College where she has been teaching for the last eleven years. It was 7:00am and as she anxiously waits, several CNG auto-rickshaws drive by, but none wants to take her to her desired destination. Finally after fifteen long minutes she manages to get a CNG auto-rickshaw but the driver insists on being paid Tk 80 to take her to Mohammadpur on a ‘contract’. The usual fare from Gulshan-1 to Mohammadpur is about Tk 50-60 depending on the flow of traffic, whereas the driver asked for an additional Tk 20 over the meter fare
‘It is still much easier to get an auto-rickshaw in the morning,’ says Yasmeen ‘after work I have to linger in the streets for at least an hour in the scorching sun to get a CNG.’ She regrets the fact that the government or relevant authority is unable to handle this dreadful situation that seems to worsen by the day and harasses commuters intolerably. This is just one case amongst the several thousand CNG commuters who are compelled to endure similar circumstances. It is not unknown to most citizens of the trouble one has to go through to convince an auto-rickshaw driver to take a fare.
‘I have to pay a fare of Tk 60 on ‘contract’ to come to my university in Banani,’ says Aumiya Nasir who resides in Indira Road. ‘It usually takes around 15-20 minutes before I can get a CNG auto-rickshaw that is willing to go to Banani.’
Ever since CNG metered auto-rickshaws have been introduced in 2003, the complaints and distress of local commuters have been massive. Despite the assurance by the police, that CNG drivers are bound to take any fare irrespective of the distance or location, has never been the case. Drivers of three-wheelers began by asking for a little extra money, about Tk 5-10 over the fare determined by the meter. Eventually they started to demand as much as Tk 20 over the meter fare. In recent months the meter is seldom used by auto-rickshaw drivers who take fares on ‘contracts’. Over the last couple of months auto-rickshaw drivers are reportedly refusing to agree at any fare offered by commuters. They usually prefer long distance trips and that also has to be to a location of their choice.
In April, the interim government introduced a new fare chart for CNG auto-rickshaws. The new chart increases the fare for the first two kilometers from Tk 12 to Tk 13.5, while the fare per kilometer has been increased from Tk 5.0 to 5.5. The daily rental has been set to Tk 450 from Tk 300. The revised chart was anticipated to reduce the variance between commuters, drivers and owners but ironically it seems to have made it worse.
‘I just asked a driver if he would go to Dhanmondi and he said ‘no’, I asked him if he would go to any of the places among Panthapath, Mohmmadpur and Mirpur and he drove by without even replying,’ says one frustrated Naimul Haq, a private service holder who was outraged for having to wait for an auto rickshaw in Mohakhali for over an hour after office.
‘I do not understand where these drivers would want to go to and this kind of behavior is infuriating.’ This recent trend is stirring up aggravation among commuters whose only means of transportation are the CNG auto-rickshaws due to the cheaper fare compared to taxi cabs. Hence, commuters have their hands tied and despite their unwillingness to agree to take rides on ‘contract’ they are not given the privilege of other options.
‘It is understandable that due to the large amount of deposit that the drivers have to pay to the auto-rickshaw owners, they ask for extra money,’ says Kazi, a buisnessman. ‘But it is simply deplorable that they demand absurd fares for ‘contract’ and refuse to go where we ask them to.’
However, the drivers of three wheelers say that they are living in such desperate conditions and the only way for them to support their families is by taking extra money from their passengers.
‘I have to pay a daily rent of Tk 550 to the owner,’ says Noyon, a CNG driver. ‘With the terrible traffic jams and large queues at CNG filling stations, there is not enough time for us to even manage the deposit money. If we are to abide by the fare set by the meter we will lose our jobs and fail to support our families.’
‘When a 15 minute ride takes an hour and thirty minutes, what can I do but go on contracts?’ asks fifty year old auto-rickshaw driver, Md. Abul Hossain. ‘I have to pay a monthly house rent of Tk 3600 and with other expenses considered, such as groceries and children’s school fees, around Tk 12000 – 13000 have to be spent each month. If the owners violate the law set for a deposit money of Tk 450, is it our fault that we demand extra money to run our families?’
‘Driving an auto-rickshaw is a very exhausting job and even after driving for the entire day, I am left with a mere maximum of Tk 200 each day after paying the daily deposit,’ says Lal mia.
Most drivers claim that they are threatened of being fired if they refuse to pay the daily rental as set by their owners which ranges from Tk 600 – 700. Also, owners are having their auto-rickshaws driven on shifts by two drivers in a day. Hence a driver, who used to drive for 12 hours before, has to pay the same amount by driving for only four to six hours. In the process the owners earn about a whopping Tk 1200 each day which is Tk 750 more than the set daily deposit. After the new fare chart has been announced, the police and RAB are known to have filed cases against drivers who demand extra money from commuters and even their driver’s licenses have been seized.
‘Before we could bribe the police with Tk 100 – 200 but now it is even difficult to comprehend if they are willing to take the money. Mostly such offers leads to more trouble,’ says driver Reza who resides in Badda.
The chairman of Bangladesh Road and Transport Authority (BRTA) ABM Shahjahan agrees that many owners are taking a daily rental of more than Tk 450 but states that there isn’t anything that can be done.
‘We have revised the fare chart and increased the daily rental to help decrease this conflict,’ says Shajahan ‘Yet if the drivers continue to exploit commuters there is only one solution, that is the commuters should take the three wheeler to the nearest police station and the police will take the necessary action required to punish the driver.’ He also adds that several drivers have been sent to jail for overcharging passengers and owners against whom written complaints were obtained, had their road permits seized and registrations cancelled. Also, mobile courts are functioning across the city. Shajahan mentions that no future steps can be taken, to act as a permanent solution.
MH Iqbal, the secretary of Dhaka CNG Auto-Rickshaw Malik Shamity, denied a widespread of such accusations against auto-rickshaw owners regarding exploitation of drivers. ‘There maybe one or two such rare cases where owners exploit drivers by taking a daily rental of over Tk. 450. Strict actions have been taken against such owners and their auto-rickshaws have been confiscated,’ says Iqbal. He mentions that the Malik Shamilty negotiates with the CNG Drivers Association often, and usually when asked why they refuse fares, the drivers deny such actions.
‘I am an owner of an auto-rickshaw myself, but I am also a commuter and I am aware of the harassment a commuter has to go through because of the unreasonable contracts,’ agrees Iqbal. ‘We earnestly ask the drivers to at least take fares and not leave people stranded on the streets for hours.’
Most owners deny the accusations set against them while some acknowledge it.
‘I have three auto-rickshaws and my drivers are willing to pay Tk 500 if they are allowed to drive till 10pm,’ said Shoma, a banker ‘Most of us perceive the drivers to have earned a tiny amount at the end of the day but surprisingly my drivers told me that they are able to earn at least Tk 300 daily.’
ATM Nazmul Hassan, the Secretary of Dhaka Mohanogor CNG Babsha Malik Shamity, deeply regrets the current situation and says that he has been urgently attempting to improve this disturbing trend. ‘It is true that CNG owners take more than the set rental of Tk 450, but with the appalling rate of recent inflation, it is impossible for even the owners to lead a decent life,’ says Nazmul. He explains that the price of mobil has rocketed from Tk 120 – 200 in recent times and that the tax rate is so high it becomes terribly difficult for owners to import engine parts and maintain their vehicles. ‘The current situation needs immediate attention, as both the owners and the drivers cannot continue to function in this manner,’ says Nazmul. ‘I have taken various steps and even written a letter of prayer to the communication advisor to look into the matter but I am yet to receive a reply.’ He explains that the only solution is to reduce the percentage of tax and inflation if the government is willing to keep this sector working and provide a long-term solution. ‘Through New Age I would like to plead to the government to help make conditions better.’
If the authority is indifferent towards such unethical actions after having introduced the new fare chart, how can the circumstances improve? With 2500 CNG drivers in the country and the number of commuters three times that amount, can a fair solution be attained whereby commuters would be relieved of their daily harassment and both auto-rickshaw drivers and owners would be satisfied?
‘I am willing to pay a little extra money over the meter fair, but I would at least like to be assured that drivers wouldn’t refuse to take fares,’ says Yasmeen
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Music with a mission
Music with a missionby Kutubuddin Kamal
Friday, the 19th of October. The Kozmo Lounge at Dhanmondi was abuzz with anticipation. 'Kozmo (A)live with Arnab & Andrew' was a sellout. The ticket sales had begun a month back. When the lights came on, a wave of excitement swept through the crowd. On stage were Arnab and Andrew Morris. The next two hours or so were a music lover's delight, as Arnab's soulful voice fused with the captivating tune of Morris's saxophone. Arnab has already cemented his place in the local music scene a number of hit singles. His 'shey jey boshey achhey' was virtually the song of the year when it came out. He is regarded as one of the most promising composers of Bangla music today. He has previously played with the popular band Bangla. Morris, on the other hand, is an education consultant and talented saxophonist. He has played saxophone for Blue Note and has recently been involved with a programme to raise fund for a Bangladesh National Women Lawyers' Association Hostel. Arnab and Morris met six months back in what could be called a random encounter. 'We have a common friend. One day Andrew came to my studio. When I started playing a song on my guitar, he joined in with his saxophone. We clicked instantly,' Arnab says. 'Playing with Andrew has been an enlightening experience and our collaboration has been very successful.' 'When I met Arnab I didn't know of many local musicians but I knew Habib and Arnab were very popular,' says Morris. 'Arnab is a talented composer and working with him has been a pleasure.' The response of music enthusiasts has been positive and they welcomed the new sound that has emerged from the collaboration. 'We both have learned a lot from each other during our collaboration,' says Arnab. 'I sing classical and folk music among others while Andrew plays the saxophone. There is a lot of scope for us to learn from each other.' The show at the Kozmo Lounge was also to support the humanitarian cause of the women lawyer's association, which came into being with the objective of protecting abused women and children by providing them with legal and rehabilitation support. The association has taken initiatives to build a shelter for the victims of rape, domestic slavery, trafficking and exploitation. They will be given training in various skills that will help them to re-establish themselves in society. Dormitories, auditorium, school and training facilities are also to be provided to the victims. A site has already been secured outside Dhaka. Approximately Tk 44 crore is required to implement the project. 'I read about the domestic worker Madhabi who was pushed from the balcony of a house where she worked as a domestic help by the landlord,' says Andrew. 'I came to know that the girl had been rescued by BNWLA workers and I visited her. The incident really moved me and soon I became involved with the project.' Previously the duo played at the Heritage Restaurant in Gulshan, where they had an even bigger audience and consequently raised a large sum of money for the project. Many were unfamiliar with the association before but through their music and involvement the duo has been able to raise the much-needed awareness among people. Also, signed posters of the duo from their recent gigs are up for sale, the earnings from which will be donated to the BNWLA fund. A couple of more performances are scheduled although the duo has not decided on a long-term collaboration yet. However, both are eager to work together in the future. Morris will feature in a few tracks in Arnab's upcoming album. The duo may also perform in New York and London next year.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
How To Save A Life
I, just like several others of my age agree that the music being made these days is like just another season that will eventually go away, lose its charms and character. Seasons come by again as the earth revoles, but here todays music fails to resemble the seasons for they won't be listened to again. Teenagers still crave for music by such legends as Eric Clapton, John Lenon, The Beatles and Led Zeppelin, but will the next generation crave for the music by Britney Spears or Eminem? Probably not, but that doesn't also rule out the fact that great music is still being made, music that conveys message that soothes the soul. A good example would be the song 'How to save a life' by the band 'The Fray'. The lyrics so wonderfully written in such simple deep words connects even more wonderfully with the piano and guitars and the soulful voice of the vocalist. Many might still consider this to be plain 'commerical' music but I would ask them to listen to the song again and listen to the lyrics and only then would they know how beautiful it really is.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
The Right, The Wrong
There are ways in which one is expected to behave, rules set to differentiate between the good and the bad, the right and the wrong. Laws established to punish the ones who cross the line and step into the not-to-be-talked-about other side, step down to decadence, to the chamber of demons and grotesque evil that turns them into one of their own. Yet how many of us have actually been there? Is it really a chamber where red tongued demons float about in harmonious vice and lick the blood of the innocent? Or is it the superficial image imposed in our minds so panoramically by the even more superficial society?
What would be a valid explanation for wrong? Is it wrong for a young child to want what is not his own? Most will disagree with me for the child doesn’t know what he should or should not want. But it is still ‘most’, not all. The idea of wrong and right various with age groups, personalities and background. Yet how can we so easily claim that a person is wrong if in fact what we perceive to be wrong might be right to several others? How do we continue to rely and want to abide by the rules set by society, when the ones who comprise of the society seldom act according to their lofty words? When all they are doing is dinning with the devil himself and pointing fingers at us? When their sons and daughters are associated with all that is wrong and they sit around and pass sardonic judgments on you and your offspring? Perhaps we are blind, blind to see all the obscenities, the injustice and the sycophancy so impeccably hidden. Or rather, are we frightened? Frightened of being labeled, being known in society as ‘the one’ who broke the rules and ‘the one' that should be discriminated and questioned, better yet discarded?
Relationships cease to remain the same with time. Most tend to take a downhill ride, crashing into stones and thorns on the way. We tend to contemplate and ruminate about what went wrong. Was I to blame? Where did i go wrong? And the questions too keep crashing like landslides in our heads, leaving us in a blurry world of bewilderment that only caters to the lost. Some of us are not the obsessing kind and seldom wish to ponder over what has been lost. These are the brave ones, the insensitive ones, the ones who would say ‘Never regret, Never apologize’ like John Le Carré had stated through one of his characters in the novel ‘The Naïve and Sentimental Lover’. We say we are individuals, each unique in our behavior and personality. As true as that is, my sociology professor once said ‘You say you are individuals but I do not see any of the young men wearing a skirt or anyone being naked. I do not see anyone standing on their desks or dancing around. But y’all are sitting down where you are supposed to be and wearing clothes that may have different colors and patterns, regardless the men are all wearing some form of shirts and pants and the women dressed in shalwar kameez”
Hence are we to consider that sociology has invalidated the obvious? We again fail to see the obvious. We may be unique and diverse but our actions put us all in groups or patterns which reveals that maybe we are not that different after all. Well then how do we acknowledge people with whom we have nothing in common, whose personality changes like the colors of a chameleon and ‘us and them’ could be compared to ‘ebony and ivory’? I assume some things are just beyond our comprehension and are a part of the wondrous, enigmatic, horrendous, unpredictable and dark journey that we call life.
Will the surprises ever end? Will we have peace of mind and will the questions finally fade away? I can’t help but smile because I just realized I’m again asking more questions. Maybe we shouldn’t question or maybe we should I do not know, but yes I do know that whoever said ‘Ignorance is bliss’ couldn’t have said anything more right in his/her life.
What would be a valid explanation for wrong? Is it wrong for a young child to want what is not his own? Most will disagree with me for the child doesn’t know what he should or should not want. But it is still ‘most’, not all. The idea of wrong and right various with age groups, personalities and background. Yet how can we so easily claim that a person is wrong if in fact what we perceive to be wrong might be right to several others? How do we continue to rely and want to abide by the rules set by society, when the ones who comprise of the society seldom act according to their lofty words? When all they are doing is dinning with the devil himself and pointing fingers at us? When their sons and daughters are associated with all that is wrong and they sit around and pass sardonic judgments on you and your offspring? Perhaps we are blind, blind to see all the obscenities, the injustice and the sycophancy so impeccably hidden. Or rather, are we frightened? Frightened of being labeled, being known in society as ‘the one’ who broke the rules and ‘the one' that should be discriminated and questioned, better yet discarded?
Relationships cease to remain the same with time. Most tend to take a downhill ride, crashing into stones and thorns on the way. We tend to contemplate and ruminate about what went wrong. Was I to blame? Where did i go wrong? And the questions too keep crashing like landslides in our heads, leaving us in a blurry world of bewilderment that only caters to the lost. Some of us are not the obsessing kind and seldom wish to ponder over what has been lost. These are the brave ones, the insensitive ones, the ones who would say ‘Never regret, Never apologize’ like John Le Carré had stated through one of his characters in the novel ‘The Naïve and Sentimental Lover’. We say we are individuals, each unique in our behavior and personality. As true as that is, my sociology professor once said ‘You say you are individuals but I do not see any of the young men wearing a skirt or anyone being naked. I do not see anyone standing on their desks or dancing around. But y’all are sitting down where you are supposed to be and wearing clothes that may have different colors and patterns, regardless the men are all wearing some form of shirts and pants and the women dressed in shalwar kameez”
Hence are we to consider that sociology has invalidated the obvious? We again fail to see the obvious. We may be unique and diverse but our actions put us all in groups or patterns which reveals that maybe we are not that different after all. Well then how do we acknowledge people with whom we have nothing in common, whose personality changes like the colors of a chameleon and ‘us and them’ could be compared to ‘ebony and ivory’? I assume some things are just beyond our comprehension and are a part of the wondrous, enigmatic, horrendous, unpredictable and dark journey that we call life.
Will the surprises ever end? Will we have peace of mind and will the questions finally fade away? I can’t help but smile because I just realized I’m again asking more questions. Maybe we shouldn’t question or maybe we should I do not know, but yes I do know that whoever said ‘Ignorance is bliss’ couldn’t have said anything more right in his/her life.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
The Norm
I’m back to the norm
But the norm is suddenly the exact opposite of the norm
Pretentious and deceptive
Rules, rituals and the vague society
Cruel enough to cut like a knife
Will we ever be understood?
Or simple drift by like a wandering wind?
But the norm is suddenly the exact opposite of the norm
Pretentious and deceptive
Rules, rituals and the vague society
Cruel enough to cut like a knife
Will we ever be understood?
Or simple drift by like a wandering wind?
Thursday, September 20, 2007
120 Performers in One Show
Kutub Uddin Kamal experiences the biggest ever music festival organised in Bangladesh in the five-day Music Festival 2007
photo by Al-Emrun Garjon
photo by Al-Emrun Garjon
For music-enthusiasts, the five day long Music Festival 2007 at the Bashundhara city was tantamount to history in the making when they witnessed, for the first time ever, 120 performers take part in one single event. Not only were they treated to the songs, albums of all these artists were launched through this event and was put up for sale. Several hundred people thronged level-7 of Bashundhara City from September 6 to 10 for the event 
which was organised by Showbiz Entertainment, the first of its kind in Bangladesh. It turned out to be a shrine for music-lovers all across the country. ‘The core motive of this festival was to try and bring all those involved in music including artists, record companies and people in the music arena together under one roof,’ says Mehdi Hassan of Showbiz Entertainment. Inspired by the South Park Music Festival, the festival was also the celebration of Showbiz Entertainment’s seven year anniversary. The event featured an astounding 120 artists including some
which was organised by Showbiz Entertainment, the first of its kind in Bangladesh. It turned out to be a shrine for music-lovers all across the country. ‘The core motive of this festival was to try and bring all those involved in music including artists, record companies and people in the music arena together under one roof,’ says Mehdi Hassan of Showbiz Entertainment. Inspired by the South Park Music Festival, the festival was also the celebration of Showbiz Entertainment’s seven year anniversary. The event featured an astounding 120 artists including someof the biggest names in the music industry like Bappa Majumder, Habib Wahid, Ornob, Mehrin, Kumar Biswajit, Mila, Kaniz Shuborna and previous Close Up-1 contestants and winners along with the bands, Cryptic Fate, Artcell, Yaatri, Renaissance, Abida & Pentagon, Nemesis. ‘The festival was not just about the performances but also an initiative to promote music in Bangladesh and expose more people to local music,’ mentions Mehdi. ‘We have organised several one day concerts at home and abroad but had never done anything this big.’ During its 5-day run, ‘Jhalmuri-1 & 2’, two mixed albums were launched. Both the albums featured tracks by several renowned music artists. The floor was surrounded by small stalls featuring thriving music companies like G series, Ektaar Music as well as popular radio stations and television channels. While music albums could be purchased from the record company stalls, the festival also sported a celebrity corner where celebrities could sit and enjoy music. This allured more people to visit the festival in an attempt to see their favourite stars. Celebrities were not just restricted to music artists but came from all media backgrounds such as television and movies to show their support in helping the promotion of music. The festival continued from 10am till 7pm everyday during the five days. While people of all age groups continued to arrive throughout the days, Mehdi adds, ‘The maximum of the visitors were teenagers or young adults.’ Organising such an enormous event and especially to be able to schedule performances for all the artists is palpably challenging. However, Mehdi mentions that the artists have been very co-operative and extremely enthusiastic about this event and its outcome. Above all, the event was entirely non-commercial. ‘We did not charge any money for the stalls and have also had to bear a considerable amount of loss. Yet we decided to go along with this project because we believe it would make a difference in the music scene of Bangladesh today,’ he says. The music artists who performed at the festival did so voluntarily without any payment from the organiser, reflecting their keenness towards promoting music and creating a better atmosphere for future music artists and music-lovers. Events like this should be prevalent in all media sectors to help our entertainment industry to go one step forward, expressed organisers.
Monday, September 10, 2007
A New Era in Fashion Designing and Education
“I don't design clothes, I design dreams” as Ralph Lauren had once stated, we too design a dream, a dream of boasting about our own fashion industry, comprising of globally acclaimed brands and we as a nation, would beam with pride. The dream is no longer a fantasy but is in the making of a reality. We have come a long way from the time when children’s clothes were the products of their mother’s wondrous weaving expertise, when fashion was a term seldom acknowledged by most. Yet not many could have prophesied the introduction and need for fashion in our society. Today, it doesn’t require a keen observer to notice how fashion is associated in our lives, for even a simple garment worker tries to keep up with the latest trend as allowed by her meager salary.
This transformation didn’t occur overnight and was backed by several individuals and institutions who worked effortlessly to promote fashion and help those interested in fashion education to pursue their dream.
The first of such institutions is INIFD – an international design institute that was launched in Bangladesh in 2002 at Banani. A sister concern of Giant Management & Services Limited, the core aim of the institution is to help those students who are deprived of fashion education rather than making a large profit, mentions Sharmeen Hassan, the executive director of INIFD. ‘Today everyone wants to make their own fashion statement as opposed to before when whatever was available at the malls was considered to be fashion’ says Sharmeen. She explains that there is a lot more to fashion designing than what people perceive, there is much to learn including lessons on the history of costumes, the different eras etc. Aside from the minimum requirements, students have to sit for an entrance test before enrollment. Scholarships are given to meritorious students.
INIFD has a fine environment and rich laboratory & library facilities. ‘It is a brilliant institution for studying fashion with an experienced faculty; students willing to join should work hard and the results will speak for themselves’ says Nusrat Fatema, a student of INIFD.
It is a widespread misconception that students studying fashion will end up being unemployed, but Sharmeen explicates that individuals with a background in fashion are required in garments, buying houses and may open their own boutiques. ‘Teaching at INIFD is a pleasure and the enthusiasm of the students is amazing’ says Kazi Kamrul, who teaches Graphics and also says that the institution is a promising one for fashion education.
Eight students from INIFD participated in ‘The Lakme Next Gen Designer Search 2007’ - the first televised competition held for designers in Bangladesh, and three made it to the top ten of the competition.
The institution which stated off with merely twenty five students has palpably come a long way and Sharmeen has soaring expectations ‘I dream that one day my students will design clothes for grammy winning celebrities’
Pearl Fashion Institute (PFI) started in Bangladesh in March 2006 at its Baridhara campus. It is a branch of Pearl Academy of Fashion, India and is affiliated with the prestigious Nottingham Trent University, UK. PFI is a leading institute which provides quality education and includes mostly recognized international faculty members. It occupies a four storey building and provides a tranquil atmosphere for studies with a proper library & well equipped laboratories for sewing, graphics etc. Scholarships are available for commendable students. ‘The industry for fashion in Bangladesh has tremendous possibilities and it is just a beginning’ says Rajat Bhattacharya, the executive director for PFI. He also assures that there are incredible opportunities for employment in the sector.
‘People misconstrue the garment industry to be only producing jackets or sweat shirts, but they fail to see the glamour involved’ mentions Rajat. He says that every country is driven by youth and it is the young generation who will take this industry forward. ‘Bangladesh has had a consistent positive growth in the garment industry which is an exception and it will sustain itself with the help of trained professionals who we help to make at PFI’ states Rajat. He also adds that if Bangladesh has such local professionals a giant amount of foreign currency will be saved for the country and help the economy massively.
‘It is extremely gratifying and fulfilling to be working at PFI. To be able to see my students become successful is a gift’ says Garima Sribastaba, the head of academics at PFI and adds that with the international access that PFI has, students need not worry of employment.
‘At PFI job assurance is 100%’ says Prokash Dash, a graduate from PFI who is currently an executive merchandiser at Beximco. ‘PFI not only focuses on academics but also trains students for the work place and gives emphasis on learning English’ He adds.
Archana an international consultant and a visiting faculty at PFI says ‘PFI is a very interactive institution and the system of studying is quite unlike from what students are habituated to in colleges or universities and the commitment of students is remarkable’
The time has come for an evolution in our country. Be it fashion, music or art, but one should be able to choose the career of his/her desire. Nurturing ones talents can help a person to gain the true zest one needs for success. The basic reason for spending nearly one-third of a person’s life in education is to obtain a respectable job, but if satisfaction at work is unattainable, is there really any joy in working? Occupations are not just restricted to engineering and medicine, as our society may have one believe, but it is us who can alter this disturbing trend and make a difference. With fashion schools such as INIFD and PFI, the choice is yours.
INIFD:
Location: 41, Kemal Ataturk Avenue (5th Floor), Banani.
Courses: fashion designing, Textile designing, manufacturing, marketing, merchandising, pattern making and grading
Minimum Requirement: ‘O/A level’ or H.S.C
Duration: 6 month courses to 2 years of Advance Diploma.
Fees: Tk. 22,000 (6 months) - Tk. 42,000 per year depending on course.
Contact: 9893510, 9862341
Pearl Fashion Institute (PFI):
Location: H#11, R#6, Baridhara.
Courses: Fashion designing, merchandising, production technology, marketing, clothing technology, knit wear merchandising.
Minimum Requirement: ‘A level’ or H.S.C
Duration: 1-2 years depending on course
Fees: Tk. 90, 000 – Tk. 205,000 depending on course
Contact: 8857763, 9887419
This transformation didn’t occur overnight and was backed by several individuals and institutions who worked effortlessly to promote fashion and help those interested in fashion education to pursue their dream.
The first of such institutions is INIFD – an international design institute that was launched in Bangladesh in 2002 at Banani. A sister concern of Giant Management & Services Limited, the core aim of the institution is to help those students who are deprived of fashion education rather than making a large profit, mentions Sharmeen Hassan, the executive director of INIFD. ‘Today everyone wants to make their own fashion statement as opposed to before when whatever was available at the malls was considered to be fashion’ says Sharmeen. She explains that there is a lot more to fashion designing than what people perceive, there is much to learn including lessons on the history of costumes, the different eras etc. Aside from the minimum requirements, students have to sit for an entrance test before enrollment. Scholarships are given to meritorious students.
INIFD has a fine environment and rich laboratory & library facilities. ‘It is a brilliant institution for studying fashion with an experienced faculty; students willing to join should work hard and the results will speak for themselves’ says Nusrat Fatema, a student of INIFD.
It is a widespread misconception that students studying fashion will end up being unemployed, but Sharmeen explicates that individuals with a background in fashion are required in garments, buying houses and may open their own boutiques. ‘Teaching at INIFD is a pleasure and the enthusiasm of the students is amazing’ says Kazi Kamrul, who teaches Graphics and also says that the institution is a promising one for fashion education.
Eight students from INIFD participated in ‘The Lakme Next Gen Designer Search 2007’ - the first televised competition held for designers in Bangladesh, and three made it to the top ten of the competition.
The institution which stated off with merely twenty five students has palpably come a long way and Sharmeen has soaring expectations ‘I dream that one day my students will design clothes for grammy winning celebrities’
Pearl Fashion Institute (PFI) started in Bangladesh in March 2006 at its Baridhara campus. It is a branch of Pearl Academy of Fashion, India and is affiliated with the prestigious Nottingham Trent University, UK. PFI is a leading institute which provides quality education and includes mostly recognized international faculty members. It occupies a four storey building and provides a tranquil atmosphere for studies with a proper library & well equipped laboratories for sewing, graphics etc. Scholarships are available for commendable students. ‘The industry for fashion in Bangladesh has tremendous possibilities and it is just a beginning’ says Rajat Bhattacharya, the executive director for PFI. He also assures that there are incredible opportunities for employment in the sector.
‘People misconstrue the garment industry to be only producing jackets or sweat shirts, but they fail to see the glamour involved’ mentions Rajat. He says that every country is driven by youth and it is the young generation who will take this industry forward. ‘Bangladesh has had a consistent positive growth in the garment industry which is an exception and it will sustain itself with the help of trained professionals who we help to make at PFI’ states Rajat. He also adds that if Bangladesh has such local professionals a giant amount of foreign currency will be saved for the country and help the economy massively.
‘It is extremely gratifying and fulfilling to be working at PFI. To be able to see my students become successful is a gift’ says Garima Sribastaba, the head of academics at PFI and adds that with the international access that PFI has, students need not worry of employment.
‘At PFI job assurance is 100%’ says Prokash Dash, a graduate from PFI who is currently an executive merchandiser at Beximco. ‘PFI not only focuses on academics but also trains students for the work place and gives emphasis on learning English’ He adds.
Archana an international consultant and a visiting faculty at PFI says ‘PFI is a very interactive institution and the system of studying is quite unlike from what students are habituated to in colleges or universities and the commitment of students is remarkable’
The time has come for an evolution in our country. Be it fashion, music or art, but one should be able to choose the career of his/her desire. Nurturing ones talents can help a person to gain the true zest one needs for success. The basic reason for spending nearly one-third of a person’s life in education is to obtain a respectable job, but if satisfaction at work is unattainable, is there really any joy in working? Occupations are not just restricted to engineering and medicine, as our society may have one believe, but it is us who can alter this disturbing trend and make a difference. With fashion schools such as INIFD and PFI, the choice is yours.
INIFD:
Location: 41, Kemal Ataturk Avenue (5th Floor), Banani.
Courses: fashion designing, Textile designing, manufacturing, marketing, merchandising, pattern making and grading
Minimum Requirement: ‘O/A level’ or H.S.C
Duration: 6 month courses to 2 years of Advance Diploma.
Fees: Tk. 22,000 (6 months) - Tk. 42,000 per year depending on course.
Contact: 9893510, 9862341
Pearl Fashion Institute (PFI):
Location: H#11, R#6, Baridhara.
Courses: Fashion designing, merchandising, production technology, marketing, clothing technology, knit wear merchandising.
Minimum Requirement: ‘A level’ or H.S.C
Duration: 1-2 years depending on course
Fees: Tk. 90, 000 – Tk. 205,000 depending on course
Contact: 8857763, 9887419
Monday, July 16, 2007
Midnight Boredom
Its 12:02 am. Some where over the course of time the idea of ‘midnight’ as being the time when one should be sleeping, lest demons come to possess oneself, has been lost. Boredom, confusion, clubbing and random thoughts have replaced the fear that maybe once used to haunt our ancestors. Although watching “The Shining’ before going to bed, may help to restore that fear in some of us.
Boredom as I see it now, has become a chronic disease which has spread among several thousands of people across the country, including me and my friends. The irony is that in this 21st century we are exposed to more forms and methods of entertainment than ever before, yet the level of boredom among teenagers and adults has reached an alarming rate. Have all the forms of entertainment become monotonous to us? Or do we simply refuse to be entertained and would rather sit all the live long day chatting on the internet and complaining to our friends about how boring life has become that we could possibly die?
Life back in the 12th century with only barbaric wars somehow seems more appealing to me now, than sitting in front of my 16inch computer monitor, browsing through a little social network known as 'facebook' without a reason.
The internet is infectious. Undoubtedly it is an outstanding source for any kind of information, not to mention an incredible means of communication. It however, has also introduced the instant messaging service, which maybe is absolutely essential to many, while most stay glued to their computer screens chatting with friends who may even be living in the house next to theirs! When the internet has replaced mobility, why blame kids for obesity?
It is 1:26 am now and somehow I have gone through almost an hour and a half without being able to complete this little piece of writing. When my instant messaging windows keep blinking in orange like a constant fire alarm, it’s hard to stay focused.
Boredom as I see it now, has become a chronic disease which has spread among several thousands of people across the country, including me and my friends. The irony is that in this 21st century we are exposed to more forms and methods of entertainment than ever before, yet the level of boredom among teenagers and adults has reached an alarming rate. Have all the forms of entertainment become monotonous to us? Or do we simply refuse to be entertained and would rather sit all the live long day chatting on the internet and complaining to our friends about how boring life has become that we could possibly die?
Life back in the 12th century with only barbaric wars somehow seems more appealing to me now, than sitting in front of my 16inch computer monitor, browsing through a little social network known as 'facebook' without a reason.
The internet is infectious. Undoubtedly it is an outstanding source for any kind of information, not to mention an incredible means of communication. It however, has also introduced the instant messaging service, which maybe is absolutely essential to many, while most stay glued to their computer screens chatting with friends who may even be living in the house next to theirs! When the internet has replaced mobility, why blame kids for obesity?
It is 1:26 am now and somehow I have gone through almost an hour and a half without being able to complete this little piece of writing. When my instant messaging windows keep blinking in orange like a constant fire alarm, it’s hard to stay focused.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Scratch Scratch!
I woke up today scratching, scratching my legs like a lunatic, as if digging up land in search of gold. And wait it gets better, the itching is not just restricted to my legs but apparently extends to my arms and neck, not to mention my left cheek!
Regardless of the tempestuous cyclone that I had stormed up in my brain, I failed to figure out atleast one reason that may have triggered my insane allergy. With the pace and intensity of my scratching I soon expect to reach my bones as I have already succeeded in revealing flesh at many a different places all over my body!
Allergy is like a pest or rather one of those impossible little children you see every time you go to a restaurant, who keep on screaming their tiny heads off for attention. The frustrating part is I am giving my allergy attention, more so than anything else, yet it refuses to calm down for even a minute! It has reached such a horrific state that I almost feel like it is worse than the time I had chicken pox, or maybe my mind is a little exaggerated in its thoughts. I am in a dilemma.
As I type the words my right wrist feels like I put it inside a blender. I had scratched the skin at the right corner of my wrist, just where I place it as I type and it looks and feel appalling. To make things worse, the friction between my wrist and the surface of my computer table almost has me on the verge of crying out loud, yet the itching continues there, what more could I scratch? It goes beyond me!
I presume it is about time I stopped typing. My hands need me for my own self loathing scratching action!
Regardless of the tempestuous cyclone that I had stormed up in my brain, I failed to figure out atleast one reason that may have triggered my insane allergy. With the pace and intensity of my scratching I soon expect to reach my bones as I have already succeeded in revealing flesh at many a different places all over my body!
Allergy is like a pest or rather one of those impossible little children you see every time you go to a restaurant, who keep on screaming their tiny heads off for attention. The frustrating part is I am giving my allergy attention, more so than anything else, yet it refuses to calm down for even a minute! It has reached such a horrific state that I almost feel like it is worse than the time I had chicken pox, or maybe my mind is a little exaggerated in its thoughts. I am in a dilemma.
As I type the words my right wrist feels like I put it inside a blender. I had scratched the skin at the right corner of my wrist, just where I place it as I type and it looks and feel appalling. To make things worse, the friction between my wrist and the surface of my computer table almost has me on the verge of crying out loud, yet the itching continues there, what more could I scratch? It goes beyond me!
I presume it is about time I stopped typing. My hands need me for my own self loathing scratching action!
Grading - A Barrier to Learning
“Grading hinders teaching and creates a bad spirit, going as far as cheating and plagiarizing” - This line taken from Paul Goodman’s essay ‘A Proposal to Abolish Grading’ may seem insanely absurd to most, while others might just agree to the message being conveyed by this statement. Being a student myself, I couldn’t agree more with this particular statement along with the entire essay where Goodman clearly explicates the adverse effects that accompany the grading system and how the average student is made to compete against one another, often compelling one to feel rejected and like a failure. We often tend to forget that the purpose of education is not merely for the grades, but more importantly to attain knowledge. Goodman suggests an alternative method where teachers and students should discuss each student’s progress individually, helping one to ascertain his/her own competence rather than comparing the potency of students. Hence, students would be able to apprehend their performance in school without the curse of grades hanging above their heads. I consider this to be an excellent proposal which should be considered favorably by our intellectuals and professors for it will undoubtedly be benefiting for our students and may lead to a better society overall.
A child is introduced to the grading system at the beginning of school life. It may not seem quite as harsh during the early school years, but by the time a child reaches middle school grading tends to act more like a burden rather than a blessing that encourages a child to study and do better. With more distractions and forms of entertainment in this 21st century, the primary concern should be to try and keep children focused and interested in studies, not to repel them. A student who may not have prepared for a certain test, but is nevertheless capable, is usually terrified of receiving a bad grade and hence the only way out is cheating. Not only are we depriving our students from gaining knowledge in a neutral atmosphere, we are, ironically, teaching them the methods of misdemeanor during tests as they are left with no other options. Most parents in our dormant consevative society prefer to be distant from their children. Their perception of getting respect from their children is to behave a manner that would make their children scared of them. Parents, like teachers often judge their children on the grades they obtain. This plays a major role in demoralizing a child, as the child would simply seek for a good grade regardless of the methods undertaken in obtaining it. Such situations also leave pupils frustrated and lead to a lack of self confidence and determination. The concept of gaining knowledge seems have become obsolete.
The worst effect of grading however can be experienced in college. The sudden pressure of studies, part-time jobs, hectic schedules, combined with the desperate desire for getting a decent grade, leaves a student devastated. I am in my second year in college and I can assure that getting a good grade in college is anything but easy. There have been numerous occasions where I had to cheat just to ensure that I didnt end up with a bad grade. Today learning comes only second to grading, for a decent grade can assure a respectable job and the core motive for spending nearly one-third of a person’s life in education, is to get a decent job. The biggest challenge that students today are facing after graduation is at the work place. One might not be completely capable despite the grades obtained in college (which maybe due to cheating and plagiarizing). As this scenario is beginning to become a widespread, it is palpably a drawback for the society at large, not to mention economic growth for a nation.
The harsh reality is that people have been so reliable on grades for so long, that to many, studies appear to be worthless without grades. Steps should be taken to make people comprehend the need for an alternative, as suggested by Goodman and it should be now. Each individual has their own uniqueness and consequently separate talents at which they can excel. Would it not be better to nurture those talents and help one to prosper at what a person is already good at, rather than comparing one to the other in a meaningless manner? It is only then, that the majority of our working population may find pleasure in their work and we could help create a more harmonious and prosperous future for our students.
A child is introduced to the grading system at the beginning of school life. It may not seem quite as harsh during the early school years, but by the time a child reaches middle school grading tends to act more like a burden rather than a blessing that encourages a child to study and do better. With more distractions and forms of entertainment in this 21st century, the primary concern should be to try and keep children focused and interested in studies, not to repel them. A student who may not have prepared for a certain test, but is nevertheless capable, is usually terrified of receiving a bad grade and hence the only way out is cheating. Not only are we depriving our students from gaining knowledge in a neutral atmosphere, we are, ironically, teaching them the methods of misdemeanor during tests as they are left with no other options. Most parents in our dormant consevative society prefer to be distant from their children. Their perception of getting respect from their children is to behave a manner that would make their children scared of them. Parents, like teachers often judge their children on the grades they obtain. This plays a major role in demoralizing a child, as the child would simply seek for a good grade regardless of the methods undertaken in obtaining it. Such situations also leave pupils frustrated and lead to a lack of self confidence and determination. The concept of gaining knowledge seems have become obsolete.
The worst effect of grading however can be experienced in college. The sudden pressure of studies, part-time jobs, hectic schedules, combined with the desperate desire for getting a decent grade, leaves a student devastated. I am in my second year in college and I can assure that getting a good grade in college is anything but easy. There have been numerous occasions where I had to cheat just to ensure that I didnt end up with a bad grade. Today learning comes only second to grading, for a decent grade can assure a respectable job and the core motive for spending nearly one-third of a person’s life in education, is to get a decent job. The biggest challenge that students today are facing after graduation is at the work place. One might not be completely capable despite the grades obtained in college (which maybe due to cheating and plagiarizing). As this scenario is beginning to become a widespread, it is palpably a drawback for the society at large, not to mention economic growth for a nation.
The harsh reality is that people have been so reliable on grades for so long, that to many, studies appear to be worthless without grades. Steps should be taken to make people comprehend the need for an alternative, as suggested by Goodman and it should be now. Each individual has their own uniqueness and consequently separate talents at which they can excel. Would it not be better to nurture those talents and help one to prosper at what a person is already good at, rather than comparing one to the other in a meaningless manner? It is only then, that the majority of our working population may find pleasure in their work and we could help create a more harmonious and prosperous future for our students.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
River Of Joy
The early years gave birth to it
Youth and innocence nurtured it
Lonesome company embraced
From one to many
It conquered little hearts
Built an impeccable wall of trust
And brought a river of joy
The zenith was reached
Years later
It wandered in delusion
From one to the other
Could find no pleasure
Like a clever ruse
It could only bruise
Penchant was lost subtly
But the memories returned vividly
Joy there was, plain wonderful joy
Decadence had begun
Defamation followed
Politics and misconceptions
Tore down the wall
Little pain too was felt
But none was to be regretted
For friendship is not for life.
Youth and innocence nurtured it
Lonesome company embraced
From one to many
It conquered little hearts
Built an impeccable wall of trust
And brought a river of joy
The zenith was reached
Years later
It wandered in delusion
From one to the other
Could find no pleasure
Like a clever ruse
It could only bruise
Penchant was lost subtly
But the memories returned vividly
Joy there was, plain wonderful joy
Decadence had begun
Defamation followed
Politics and misconceptions
Tore down the wall
Little pain too was felt
But none was to be regretted
For friendship is not for life.
Women Empowerment in Bangladesh
With the outstanding advancements in economics, technology and the growing literacy rate of the world population, women empowerment has also increased noticeably among the nations of the world. Yet the society at large is perceived as male-dominant which even in the dawn of the new millennium remains unaltered. As the eternal fight for women rights still continue, several western countries claim to have set equal rights for men and women and consequently women are said to be given the privilege of equal freedom as men. If acutely examined the scenario is not as such. Rather, women empowerment is still kept in the shadow. Only a small proportion of the leaders of the nations across the world are females, which if not a major issue, can at least convey a pretty clear message of who holds the highest authority of running a nation. A significant example would be the United States of America, for till today there have been no women president of the United States and it palpably shows that despite women working in demanding jobs in several sectors of the different industries, authority of running the world’s most influential and powerful country, still remains under the grip of the male.
However in Bangladesh, the leaders of the two most dominant and influential political groups of the nation, are women. They have both had their shares of being the Prime Minister of the country more than once, and their popularity among the people of the country is overwhelming. As ironic as it sounds, since the country is still much deprived of women empowerment, women prime ministers in this case do not exactly represent the state of the average woman of the country. It should be noted that apart from the prime minister, most of the remaining members of the parliament are men, revealing the fact that women empowerment is yet to be taken seriously. Sadly, despite having women leaders for much of the time span after the country’s independence, women empowerment is still not a widespread. A large proportion of the conservative society refuses to see women working beside men, and the several campaigns that speak for women’s rights seldom seem to raise awareness among the ignorant males of the society not to mention many such women.
There are various factors that refrains women empowerment. Initially there is the basic perception of the society, of women as not being as smart as men. Although a large number of women are now working in several sectors of the country’s different industries, most married women still continue to be housewives. This can be a cause of a woman having doubts about her own abilities but most often it is the husband who refuses to let his wife get employed or attain adequate education required to obtain a respectable job.
Secondly, in the rural areas and suburbs, women are not given the opportunity of proper education and in today’s fast-paced world education is a vital necessity for one to be employed.
Sexual harassment in the workplace is also common and hence women are not inclined towards working for fear of losing their dignity.
Women are also judged on their physical ability and almost never hired in strenuous jobs.
Lastly, superstitions considering women working in the society may also play a role in the refraining of women empowerment. Many short-sighted employers view women as a symbol of causing adverse effects on their business.
Regardless, women empowerment has definitely improved over the past years in Bangladesh at a slow pace, but the effects have been positive. The result can be observed in our everyday life. For example, even a couple of years ago it would be hard to imagine seeing a woman driving a car in the capital city but today, a small proportion of women are driving cars and not just in the capital city. Women are doing errands that were previously only done by men and they are more involved in business and technological sectors than they had ever before.
In the conservative society where the average person still believes in several vague superstitions, it is a long way to go for women empowerment. I believe for any nation to function proficiently the male and female should both participate and consist of the working population for only the men cannot guarantee economic growth and welfare of an entire nation when almost half of the population (ie. Women) is unemployed. The road ahead for women empowerment definitely looks promising but there is still a lot to work on and with due time, women empowerment can be regarded as a widespread.
However in Bangladesh, the leaders of the two most dominant and influential political groups of the nation, are women. They have both had their shares of being the Prime Minister of the country more than once, and their popularity among the people of the country is overwhelming. As ironic as it sounds, since the country is still much deprived of women empowerment, women prime ministers in this case do not exactly represent the state of the average woman of the country. It should be noted that apart from the prime minister, most of the remaining members of the parliament are men, revealing the fact that women empowerment is yet to be taken seriously. Sadly, despite having women leaders for much of the time span after the country’s independence, women empowerment is still not a widespread. A large proportion of the conservative society refuses to see women working beside men, and the several campaigns that speak for women’s rights seldom seem to raise awareness among the ignorant males of the society not to mention many such women.
There are various factors that refrains women empowerment. Initially there is the basic perception of the society, of women as not being as smart as men. Although a large number of women are now working in several sectors of the country’s different industries, most married women still continue to be housewives. This can be a cause of a woman having doubts about her own abilities but most often it is the husband who refuses to let his wife get employed or attain adequate education required to obtain a respectable job.
Secondly, in the rural areas and suburbs, women are not given the opportunity of proper education and in today’s fast-paced world education is a vital necessity for one to be employed.
Sexual harassment in the workplace is also common and hence women are not inclined towards working for fear of losing their dignity.
Women are also judged on their physical ability and almost never hired in strenuous jobs.
Lastly, superstitions considering women working in the society may also play a role in the refraining of women empowerment. Many short-sighted employers view women as a symbol of causing adverse effects on their business.
Regardless, women empowerment has definitely improved over the past years in Bangladesh at a slow pace, but the effects have been positive. The result can be observed in our everyday life. For example, even a couple of years ago it would be hard to imagine seeing a woman driving a car in the capital city but today, a small proportion of women are driving cars and not just in the capital city. Women are doing errands that were previously only done by men and they are more involved in business and technological sectors than they had ever before.
In the conservative society where the average person still believes in several vague superstitions, it is a long way to go for women empowerment. I believe for any nation to function proficiently the male and female should both participate and consist of the working population for only the men cannot guarantee economic growth and welfare of an entire nation when almost half of the population (ie. Women) is unemployed. The road ahead for women empowerment definitely looks promising but there is still a lot to work on and with due time, women empowerment can be regarded as a widespread.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Life As We Know It
The purpose of life to me resembles a mind boggling mathematic problem that will remain unsolved, for the complexity maybe too overwhelming for the average human mind, such as mine, to comprehend. As I ruminate and reminisce of time to come and time gone by, I find myself in the midst of several questions that revolve around the purpose of life. Is it just to grow up into an urbane person who would have decent manners and be perfectly courteous? Who would try to please the people around him/her and turn into the impeccable image of a person that others expect of him/her? Get a job, desperately earn money like a drowning man trying to stay afloat, get married, have kids and soon perish?
It might all seem humorous or harsh in a strange way when summed up in just one line, but given a little bit of thought, isn’t this exactly how we are meant to live our lives?
Of course there are exceptions that are seldom visible among the majority who follow the same monotonous or as I would call it, robotic life pattern. How would our lives be if we could live by our own rules? Strive to achieve our own goals and just live each day to the fullest, not having to abide by the superficial laws set by society.
Who wouldn’t want to live vehemently and feel the zest of life? Wouldn’t even the safest living person want to experience living life on the edge, even a minute?
Would that be considered as breaking the rules or would that mean living life for a purpose? The purpose of experiencing adventure, or a little more sanguinity.
For sadly we only live once, unless I come back as a crazy giraffe in my next life after death, I wouldn’t consider restating the fact mentioned.
It might all seem humorous or harsh in a strange way when summed up in just one line, but given a little bit of thought, isn’t this exactly how we are meant to live our lives?
Of course there are exceptions that are seldom visible among the majority who follow the same monotonous or as I would call it, robotic life pattern. How would our lives be if we could live by our own rules? Strive to achieve our own goals and just live each day to the fullest, not having to abide by the superficial laws set by society.
Who wouldn’t want to live vehemently and feel the zest of life? Wouldn’t even the safest living person want to experience living life on the edge, even a minute?
Would that be considered as breaking the rules or would that mean living life for a purpose? The purpose of experiencing adventure, or a little more sanguinity.
For sadly we only live once, unless I come back as a crazy giraffe in my next life after death, I wouldn’t consider restating the fact mentioned.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Vision
I have been on a summer zephyr
Traversed the skies, drifting by
I have been under the titanic ocean
Swimming away in peaceful glory
I have been in the white Arctic
Watched the ice melt as the auburn rays embraced
I have wandered in the Sahara
Felt the rage of the sun above
I have been lost in the Amazon
Chased by a mighty cheetah
I have been in the Himalayas
Fighting the tempestuous winds of the Gods
I have been inside your head
Tried to untangle the twisted mesh that remained
I have seen a man starve
Till he returned to where he belonged
I have seen through the eyes of a child
Candies and toys with innocence unbound
I have seen the dawn
I have seen the dusk
I have seen it all
With the vision in my heart
Traversed the skies, drifting by
I have been under the titanic ocean
Swimming away in peaceful glory
I have been in the white Arctic
Watched the ice melt as the auburn rays embraced
I have wandered in the Sahara
Felt the rage of the sun above
I have been lost in the Amazon
Chased by a mighty cheetah
I have been in the Himalayas
Fighting the tempestuous winds of the Gods
I have been inside your head
Tried to untangle the twisted mesh that remained
I have seen a man starve
Till he returned to where he belonged
I have seen through the eyes of a child
Candies and toys with innocence unbound
I have seen the dawn
I have seen the dusk
I have seen it all
With the vision in my heart
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Mind
The mind is an enigma
Often diabolic, often blissful
Bemused illusions linger silently
Invisible questions have no answers
Yet the mind wonders
Vision is blurred
Speech is curbed by ignorance
Salvation is yet to be revealed
The eyes tell a story of a perplexed world that knows no joy or glory
The lips curve to a compelled smile
To protect or to pretend?
The mind wonders
Love is a constant dilemma
Torn between trust and faith
And the whirlpool remains
Yet to be comprehended
Deception smiles like a crooked soul, with a tainted heart
Yet the cycle continues
Is life for love or for living?
And the mind wonders, still it wonders.
Often diabolic, often blissful
Bemused illusions linger silently
Invisible questions have no answers
Yet the mind wonders
Vision is blurred
Speech is curbed by ignorance
Salvation is yet to be revealed
The eyes tell a story of a perplexed world that knows no joy or glory
The lips curve to a compelled smile
To protect or to pretend?
The mind wonders
Love is a constant dilemma
Torn between trust and faith
And the whirlpool remains
Yet to be comprehended
Deception smiles like a crooked soul, with a tainted heart
Yet the cycle continues
Is life for love or for living?
And the mind wonders, still it wonders.
Go!
“C.N.G!” I had screamed out those three letters an uncountable number of times in my life but not as insanely loudly as I had been screaming on that afternoon. I was an hour late for meeting my friends and the humidity, combined with the heat and the stagnant air felt the same as being inside a pre-heated oven. For the last 60 minutes several C.N.Gs and Cabs had come and gone and not one driver was willing to listen to me, let alone take me to Dhanmondi from Gulshan. I have tired offering them extra money, I tried pleading, yelling and not to mention begging but nothing works with these absurdly arrogant aliens who operate the green colored space ships that we all know as C.N.Gs. It was after another ten minutes that I finally found a C.N.G driver who was willing to go for Tk.80!
The long and tiring C.N.G ride, during the summer rush hour left me even more exhausted and cranky. I finally reached Dhanmondi and entered Café Mango, a place that I loathe for its annoying waiters, who lack the ability of having a normal waiter-customer interaction. To my relief, my friend Atif was already there, sipping chilled coke. He looked up at me with his usual satanic smile, which I always find confusing and weird and said “Nicee!”
I realized I was completely soaked in perspiration and that was the basis of his comment. I sat at his table for a while, finishing off the rest of his coke. After I was done I dragged Atif out of Mango with me as fast as I could. We sauntered around for another five minutes on the street outside Mango, waiting for our other friend Aumiya to show up, who was surprisingly punctual. Aumiya wasn’t in her best mood that evening and neither was I, which wasn’t hard to capture from our disturbed faces while Atif still had the awkward smile on his face.
The reason for our meeting that day was to run a couple of errands. Only a few days earlier the Care-taker Government had imposed the new rule of having all shopping malls and other stores closed by 7pm with the exception of restaurants and drug stores. It was already 4:30pm and we had to go to Elephant Road, come back to Green Road and finally go to Rifles Square. Hence, we had to get everything done by 7pm and not a minute later.
At first we headed towards Elephant Road. I needed to buy new sunglasses and although Elephant Road was the last place I preferred for shopping, I just couldn’t afford to buy more sunglasses from Navana at Tk.500 each.
We hired two rickshaws, Aumiya and I on one and Atif on the other. Halfway to Elephant Road, we couldn’t trace Atif’s rickshaw behind us and had no idea of how to reach Elephant Road; apparently neither did our rickshaw-puller. Annoyed, I called Atif on his cell phone and to my disgust he told me he got caught up with a long lost friend who he had suddenly met and would catch up with us in 10-15 minutes.
As time was passing by, the scorching sun was not getting any kinder but seemed to be glaring down on us with its eyes of fire. With the help of several strangers we finally reached Elephant Road. Atif’s 15 minutes had transformed to 25. When he finally showed up, it was already 5:15pm and we were infuriated. Instead of yelling at him and ruining more time, we all went in search of cheap sunglasses.
I do not shop often, but when I do I make sure I buy something I love and I happen to be a very picky shopper. It took me another hour to literally browse through every single store in Elephant Road, failing to like any of the sunglasses they had to offer. Being sarcastic and making fun of the grotesque sunglasses that the stores had on display, was our only entertainment. Time was running out and I was constantly blaming myself for coming all the way to Elephant Road, which obviously wasn’t the best idea. Eventually I bought two sunglasses at Tk.200 each that I didn’t have any strong feelings towards but they weren’t completely hideous. The sun had finally begun to give in to the evening sky and the heat was getting bearable, making it a little easier for us to roam around.
Next stop was Green Road, where Aumiya had to get her picture taken for her passport. We needed to go to her place at Indira Road first, since we were a little short of cash. No rickshaws would go from elephant Road to Green Road but fortunately we managed to hire a black cab just as we were on the verge of losing our minds. The clock was ticking and a rush of excitement was flowing through our veins like tidal waves. Despite the constant tension, we couldn’t help but admit to ourselves that this was turning out to be a fun day. After picking up the money, we made it to the studio to get the pictures taken.
Another 15 minutes were spent on taking the pictures and thankfully, the cabbie agreed to wait all this while, unlike most cabbies of the city. It was 6:30pm when we started out for Riffles Square, where Atif had to exchange a DVD. However, to our dismay there was a disastrous traffic jam at Panthapath with the traffic hardly moving. Another 10 minutes passed by with the traffic moving at the same pace as a tortoise when abruptly the road cleared ahead and all the cars shot through, taking us by surprise.
We all sat tight in silence as the cabbie took us for a wild ride through the streets to Riffles Square. I wasn’t exactly supportive of his reckless driving but I thought it was better not to object than to reach Riffles Square and find it closed. The cab came to a screeching halt in front of Riffles Square, almost throwing us off our seats. It was minutes before 7pm and I hurriedly paid off the cab. We ran all the way to the 3rd floor of Riffles Square to the DVD section. Atif went to his DVD store to exchange the disc, while Aumiya and I stood at a corner panting heavily for breath.
While disembarking from the elevator of Riffles Square we were all stressed out from being on the constant run for the last almost 3 hours. Somehow we were all smiling. It was a smile of accomplishment; the one warriors have on their faces after they have come back from war. No matter how trivial our errands were, we had won the race against time and it felt great! After hanging out for another 30 minutes, we all headed back to our homes but not before we swore to each other to go on another crazy ride like this again!
The long and tiring C.N.G ride, during the summer rush hour left me even more exhausted and cranky. I finally reached Dhanmondi and entered Café Mango, a place that I loathe for its annoying waiters, who lack the ability of having a normal waiter-customer interaction. To my relief, my friend Atif was already there, sipping chilled coke. He looked up at me with his usual satanic smile, which I always find confusing and weird and said “Nicee!”
I realized I was completely soaked in perspiration and that was the basis of his comment. I sat at his table for a while, finishing off the rest of his coke. After I was done I dragged Atif out of Mango with me as fast as I could. We sauntered around for another five minutes on the street outside Mango, waiting for our other friend Aumiya to show up, who was surprisingly punctual. Aumiya wasn’t in her best mood that evening and neither was I, which wasn’t hard to capture from our disturbed faces while Atif still had the awkward smile on his face.
The reason for our meeting that day was to run a couple of errands. Only a few days earlier the Care-taker Government had imposed the new rule of having all shopping malls and other stores closed by 7pm with the exception of restaurants and drug stores. It was already 4:30pm and we had to go to Elephant Road, come back to Green Road and finally go to Rifles Square. Hence, we had to get everything done by 7pm and not a minute later.
At first we headed towards Elephant Road. I needed to buy new sunglasses and although Elephant Road was the last place I preferred for shopping, I just couldn’t afford to buy more sunglasses from Navana at Tk.500 each.
We hired two rickshaws, Aumiya and I on one and Atif on the other. Halfway to Elephant Road, we couldn’t trace Atif’s rickshaw behind us and had no idea of how to reach Elephant Road; apparently neither did our rickshaw-puller. Annoyed, I called Atif on his cell phone and to my disgust he told me he got caught up with a long lost friend who he had suddenly met and would catch up with us in 10-15 minutes.
As time was passing by, the scorching sun was not getting any kinder but seemed to be glaring down on us with its eyes of fire. With the help of several strangers we finally reached Elephant Road. Atif’s 15 minutes had transformed to 25. When he finally showed up, it was already 5:15pm and we were infuriated. Instead of yelling at him and ruining more time, we all went in search of cheap sunglasses.
I do not shop often, but when I do I make sure I buy something I love and I happen to be a very picky shopper. It took me another hour to literally browse through every single store in Elephant Road, failing to like any of the sunglasses they had to offer. Being sarcastic and making fun of the grotesque sunglasses that the stores had on display, was our only entertainment. Time was running out and I was constantly blaming myself for coming all the way to Elephant Road, which obviously wasn’t the best idea. Eventually I bought two sunglasses at Tk.200 each that I didn’t have any strong feelings towards but they weren’t completely hideous. The sun had finally begun to give in to the evening sky and the heat was getting bearable, making it a little easier for us to roam around.
Next stop was Green Road, where Aumiya had to get her picture taken for her passport. We needed to go to her place at Indira Road first, since we were a little short of cash. No rickshaws would go from elephant Road to Green Road but fortunately we managed to hire a black cab just as we were on the verge of losing our minds. The clock was ticking and a rush of excitement was flowing through our veins like tidal waves. Despite the constant tension, we couldn’t help but admit to ourselves that this was turning out to be a fun day. After picking up the money, we made it to the studio to get the pictures taken.
Another 15 minutes were spent on taking the pictures and thankfully, the cabbie agreed to wait all this while, unlike most cabbies of the city. It was 6:30pm when we started out for Riffles Square, where Atif had to exchange a DVD. However, to our dismay there was a disastrous traffic jam at Panthapath with the traffic hardly moving. Another 10 minutes passed by with the traffic moving at the same pace as a tortoise when abruptly the road cleared ahead and all the cars shot through, taking us by surprise.
We all sat tight in silence as the cabbie took us for a wild ride through the streets to Riffles Square. I wasn’t exactly supportive of his reckless driving but I thought it was better not to object than to reach Riffles Square and find it closed. The cab came to a screeching halt in front of Riffles Square, almost throwing us off our seats. It was minutes before 7pm and I hurriedly paid off the cab. We ran all the way to the 3rd floor of Riffles Square to the DVD section. Atif went to his DVD store to exchange the disc, while Aumiya and I stood at a corner panting heavily for breath.
While disembarking from the elevator of Riffles Square we were all stressed out from being on the constant run for the last almost 3 hours. Somehow we were all smiling. It was a smile of accomplishment; the one warriors have on their faces after they have come back from war. No matter how trivial our errands were, we had won the race against time and it felt great! After hanging out for another 30 minutes, we all headed back to our homes but not before we swore to each other to go on another crazy ride like this again!
Paralyzed
Silence lingered in the doorway
As another bullet shot through him
His world spinning inside his head
As darkness fell upon him
Winter seemed to arrive soon
And he was numb and cold;
Blood poured from his chest
Like a flowing river, never jaded
He lay there motionless in an ocean of red
As she stared at him in disbelief
The newspaper slid from her hands
Her mind reeling and bemused
Horror seemed to have clutched her by the throat
And it was hard to breathe
A drop of silvery tear rolled down her cheek
Followed by an eternal flow
Of memories that are too vivid, too painful
The son wiped away her tears,
Twenty seven years later
He still haunted her mind, too real, too wounding
She smiled in pain, as she greeted him with white roses
The son took her hand, and she fought to fight back the tears
He stared back at them in silence
Weeping inside of him,
He was no more.
As another bullet shot through him
His world spinning inside his head
As darkness fell upon him
Winter seemed to arrive soon
And he was numb and cold;
Blood poured from his chest
Like a flowing river, never jaded
He lay there motionless in an ocean of red
As she stared at him in disbelief
The newspaper slid from her hands
Her mind reeling and bemused
Horror seemed to have clutched her by the throat
And it was hard to breathe
A drop of silvery tear rolled down her cheek
Followed by an eternal flow
Of memories that are too vivid, too painful
The son wiped away her tears,
Twenty seven years later
He still haunted her mind, too real, too wounding
She smiled in pain, as she greeted him with white roses
The son took her hand, and she fought to fight back the tears
He stared back at them in silence
Weeping inside of him,
He was no more.
Whatever Happened to Innocent Fun?
“Pillow Passing!” the instant someone would scream out those two words, a rush of excitement would race through the air, several eager pair of eyes would look at each other with sheer joy and the children would begin to make a circle to play the much anticipated game. This would have taken place several years ago in our lives when we were merely children and “Pillow Passing” along with several other such games were able to bring immense pleasure to our little hearts. As time went by and the beginning of the teen years came along, there were more mature games for us to play like “Truth or Dare” and various board games which include “Monoploy” and “Scrabble”. These were able to quench our thirst for something entertaining to do indoors. Needless to say that football and cricket have always had their share of great appeal towards teenagers (and adults alike) esp. boys, although that doesn’t completely rule out the option of girls playing such competitive sports or their interest in them.
All of the activities mentioned above were our idea of ‘fun’ or if I may rephrase that at this age “innocent fun” .As we have just ended our journey of the much hectic, delightful and at times horrendous teen years, we are faced with a pretty palpable truth - Innocent fun does not exist anymore. It shouldn’t be misconstrued that I would still prefer to play “Pillow Passing” with my friends! We all have matured into young people and of course such games do not appeal to us any longer and that is the norm. But what happened to plain innocent fun?
The only escape for most people our age from today’s busy schedule of going to college, doing part-time jobs etc, would have to be hanging out with friends. It is easy for us to realize that each other’s company or just watching a movie, fails to generate the same rush we used to experience while playing “Truth Or Dare” when we were younger. The answer lies in smoking, doing occasional drugs, boozing, clubbing and in some cases one night stands. I should probably mention that I’m not against any of the activities mentioned, as the previous statement would have you believe. In fact, I would consider myself to be one of them, but often I cant help but ponder as to what happened to the days of innocent fun, when we would just hang out, enjoy each other’s company and laugh at one another’s silly, maybe sarcastic jokes that made no sense but still cracked us up!
It was in last summer that I had an experience, which changed my perception of the existence of this so-called ‘innocent fun’. It was during my vacation and my friends and I had reached a state of boredom that would have left us deformed or turned us into grotesque retarded mutants (like most bored teenagers of our country). We abruptly decided to go for a boat ride on one of the local boats that one can find in several lakes across Dhaka. Daily workers mostly avail them to reach from one side of the river to the other, given that the lake has slums on the other side where these people live.
It was a tranquil afternoon and the weather was almost impeccable with warm sunshine and smooth summer zephyrs that felt like giant hugs. Four friends and I hired one such boat for Tk. 60 an hour. It was in the little lake right beside Gulshan-1, next to The Aristocrat Restaurant, and it led all the way to Banani. The lake was somewhat clean then, as opposed to the huge amount of garbage that can be seen to be floating all over now. The narrow lake had slums on one side of it and tall sky scrapes dominated the other. Watching the people in the slums washing their clothes and small children bathing themselves almost made us feel like we were taking a boat ride in some far away village, but the view on the side was there to shoot us right back to reality. It was so peaceful, that for a moment we all became quiet without realizing it and just tried to soak in the beauty of serenity and nature around us, it felt wonderful.
We had my guitar with us and although I couldn’t play much except for the intro to “Wake me up when September ends” I had to let one of my friends play it, and we sang our hearts out all the way. Occasional birds would fly out of nowhere and sit on one of the several electric cables that ran from one side of the lake to the other. We were stunned and amused at the same time by their presence, since we had never seen such species of birds before in the city. However, the most surprising of all was to see an eagle glaring at us while sitting comfortably on a tall bamboo stick that stood up from the middle of the lake.
After about 30 minutes on the boat, the zephyrs began to turn into strong winds and there was a slight drizzle, which soon transformed into pretty heavy rainfall. Panic-stricken as we were, since none of us knew how to swim, we almost couldn’t contain ourselves with excitement, because the rain brought a whole new sense of adventure to our boat ride and it was exhilarating! The best part however came along shortly after the rain stopped in approximately 10 minutes time. To our utter surprise and amazement, a huge rainbow appeared across the afternoon sky in an extraordinary fashion that dazzled us in a way we couldn’t have imagined before. It was probably the largest rainbow we had ever witnessed and to see it while being on a boat was simply mesmerizing! After taking several pictures and singing several other songs with our distorted vocal chords, we returned back to the busy street from where we had begun.
It was after this particular incident that I got to realize that innocent fun had not vaporized, it was still to be found, maybe a little lost in the midst of the smoky flashy dance floors or the disturbing odor of weed but if we searched for it we could still retrieve the days of innocent fun. The inviting world of gadgets and glamour that seem too irresistible cannot provide us with the true zest for life that we all deserve to experience.
All of the activities mentioned above were our idea of ‘fun’ or if I may rephrase that at this age “innocent fun” .As we have just ended our journey of the much hectic, delightful and at times horrendous teen years, we are faced with a pretty palpable truth - Innocent fun does not exist anymore. It shouldn’t be misconstrued that I would still prefer to play “Pillow Passing” with my friends! We all have matured into young people and of course such games do not appeal to us any longer and that is the norm. But what happened to plain innocent fun?
The only escape for most people our age from today’s busy schedule of going to college, doing part-time jobs etc, would have to be hanging out with friends. It is easy for us to realize that each other’s company or just watching a movie, fails to generate the same rush we used to experience while playing “Truth Or Dare” when we were younger. The answer lies in smoking, doing occasional drugs, boozing, clubbing and in some cases one night stands. I should probably mention that I’m not against any of the activities mentioned, as the previous statement would have you believe. In fact, I would consider myself to be one of them, but often I cant help but ponder as to what happened to the days of innocent fun, when we would just hang out, enjoy each other’s company and laugh at one another’s silly, maybe sarcastic jokes that made no sense but still cracked us up!
It was in last summer that I had an experience, which changed my perception of the existence of this so-called ‘innocent fun’. It was during my vacation and my friends and I had reached a state of boredom that would have left us deformed or turned us into grotesque retarded mutants (like most bored teenagers of our country). We abruptly decided to go for a boat ride on one of the local boats that one can find in several lakes across Dhaka. Daily workers mostly avail them to reach from one side of the river to the other, given that the lake has slums on the other side where these people live.
It was a tranquil afternoon and the weather was almost impeccable with warm sunshine and smooth summer zephyrs that felt like giant hugs. Four friends and I hired one such boat for Tk. 60 an hour. It was in the little lake right beside Gulshan-1, next to The Aristocrat Restaurant, and it led all the way to Banani. The lake was somewhat clean then, as opposed to the huge amount of garbage that can be seen to be floating all over now. The narrow lake had slums on one side of it and tall sky scrapes dominated the other. Watching the people in the slums washing their clothes and small children bathing themselves almost made us feel like we were taking a boat ride in some far away village, but the view on the side was there to shoot us right back to reality. It was so peaceful, that for a moment we all became quiet without realizing it and just tried to soak in the beauty of serenity and nature around us, it felt wonderful.
We had my guitar with us and although I couldn’t play much except for the intro to “Wake me up when September ends” I had to let one of my friends play it, and we sang our hearts out all the way. Occasional birds would fly out of nowhere and sit on one of the several electric cables that ran from one side of the lake to the other. We were stunned and amused at the same time by their presence, since we had never seen such species of birds before in the city. However, the most surprising of all was to see an eagle glaring at us while sitting comfortably on a tall bamboo stick that stood up from the middle of the lake.
After about 30 minutes on the boat, the zephyrs began to turn into strong winds and there was a slight drizzle, which soon transformed into pretty heavy rainfall. Panic-stricken as we were, since none of us knew how to swim, we almost couldn’t contain ourselves with excitement, because the rain brought a whole new sense of adventure to our boat ride and it was exhilarating! The best part however came along shortly after the rain stopped in approximately 10 minutes time. To our utter surprise and amazement, a huge rainbow appeared across the afternoon sky in an extraordinary fashion that dazzled us in a way we couldn’t have imagined before. It was probably the largest rainbow we had ever witnessed and to see it while being on a boat was simply mesmerizing! After taking several pictures and singing several other songs with our distorted vocal chords, we returned back to the busy street from where we had begun.
It was after this particular incident that I got to realize that innocent fun had not vaporized, it was still to be found, maybe a little lost in the midst of the smoky flashy dance floors or the disturbing odor of weed but if we searched for it we could still retrieve the days of innocent fun. The inviting world of gadgets and glamour that seem too irresistible cannot provide us with the true zest for life that we all deserve to experience.
The Torn Apart Biped
You are impassive and bleak
Weeping in the dark, in the midst of unknown dangers
Away from the world
Hidden in the cold that made you so numb
All the memories of pain entangled in your brain, hard to efface
It seems like you’re alone
And your world is painted with the darkest shade of blue
Your terrified soul finds no rest
Burning away in a crimson flame
With not a single drop of silver to heal the burning
The burning of pain
And its hard too clam down
You wish you were a bird
You could spread your wings and fly away into the blue
But that’s just a dream
A dream only you can make real
Just reach for it and you’ll know it’s yours
It’s hard to quell your emotions but it’s worth a try
You finally get to know the world so selfish and proud
And you so humble and helpless
Cannot find any shelter from the cruelty
You are not the only one in this mess that is killing you from within
There are others crying in the dark with you
Crying for the eternal freedom that they crave for
Crying for peace, for shelter, for love
Wipe away your tears now and come out in the light
Discover the world full of exquisite wonders
Which remained as an enigma to you
I’ll be there for you
Whether you know it or not
I’ll be right beside you
Guiding you, consoling you and giving you strength
Solace yourself and reach out for that lightIn the end you’ll find the world is not all that bad
Weeping in the dark, in the midst of unknown dangers
Away from the world
Hidden in the cold that made you so numb
All the memories of pain entangled in your brain, hard to efface
It seems like you’re alone
And your world is painted with the darkest shade of blue
Your terrified soul finds no rest
Burning away in a crimson flame
With not a single drop of silver to heal the burning
The burning of pain
And its hard too clam down
You wish you were a bird
You could spread your wings and fly away into the blue
But that’s just a dream
A dream only you can make real
Just reach for it and you’ll know it’s yours
It’s hard to quell your emotions but it’s worth a try
You finally get to know the world so selfish and proud
And you so humble and helpless
Cannot find any shelter from the cruelty
You are not the only one in this mess that is killing you from within
There are others crying in the dark with you
Crying for the eternal freedom that they crave for
Crying for peace, for shelter, for love
Wipe away your tears now and come out in the light
Discover the world full of exquisite wonders
Which remained as an enigma to you
I’ll be there for you
Whether you know it or not
I’ll be right beside you
Guiding you, consoling you and giving you strength
Solace yourself and reach out for that lightIn the end you’ll find the world is not all that bad
The Auburn Sky
The auburn sky was getting gloomy. Distant clouds traversed the sky ingeniously while a gentle breeze wandered around. She sat near the riverbank alone, studying the water running by without a worry. Her luminous brown eyes stared into some unknown space, her disheveled hair tied in an untidy knot above her head. The memories came flooding back to her like tidal waves crashing onto the shore. In her 14 years of life she had never felt so alone, so helpless.
Her father’s voice still echoed in her head, the words piercing through her soul. Her mother’s face soaked in tears created a picture in her mind that was hard to efface.
Her whole life seemed to be flashing in front of her eyes and she tried to quell the emotions that had bundled up and were about to erupt like a volcano.
The breeze was getting stronger now and the memories kept coming back.
Mina was the only child of her parents, living in the small village of Comilla. The family owned a shabby two-roomed cottage; her father was a fishmonger and her mother stayed home all day, often cleaning the house or cooking. Money was never abundant in the family, unlike her mother’s love for her, who always treated her like a little princess in her own little ways. Her mother would make her little dolls out of old weathered pieces of cloth, stitched together and would always cook her daughter’s favorite meals whenever she would get the opportunity. Mina’s amiable and modest nature earned her the affection of her teachers and neighbors who adored her.
Despite all the love she got, Mina had a constant aching in her heart that haunted her, night and day.
Ever since Mina was old enough to be aware of her surroundings, she developed a tiny void in her heart. She had never gotten to know her father. He had built an icy exterior around himself, which was never to be penetrated especially not by his daughter. Mina feared his arrogance and inexplicable temper, and was tremendously intimidated by him. Even as a young child she could comprehend that her father was completely indifferent towards her and would detest any initiative taken by her to make conversations with him. Once she had asked her mother
“Amma, why does Abba hate me?”
Her mother looked alarmed and instantly put on a awkward smile and replied saying,
“Oh dear, Your Abba doesn’t hate you, who told you that?”
“Well...he never talks to me”
“He is just very busy, he loves you more than I do”
She smiled again reassuringly and ran her hand across Mina’s forehead.
Mina was not to be fooled and it wasn’t long before she was hit by the truth.
It was a cold winter afternoon and the air felt like iced water. Mina was 8 years old then and on that particular Tuesday, was sent back home early from school. She ran all the way home in the bitter weather. As the ecstatic little girl was about to enter the house, she heard voices coming from inside and stopped. Her father was yelling at the top of his voice and she could hear her mother crying.
“It is all your fault! You gave birth to a girl, and I am ashamed to even show my face in public!”
The words hit her like a dagger, cutting through deep into her flesh. Terrified, She ran away from the house and wandered around till it was the usual time for her to come back home from school. She had finally learned the reason for her father’s total disregard of her existence. She did not cry and neither did she hate her father. She wanted him to love her; she wanted him to see that she was no less than a son. She wanted to belong.
When she returned, everything was calm; her father had left and her mother was quietly weeping at the corner of the room sitting on her bed. When she saw Mina, she was a little taken aback, managed a forced smile and wiped her eyes.
“I had a really bad headache”
Even if she hadn’t known the truth, Mina would still know that her mother was lying. The sorrow in her eyes was inevitable.
From that day onwards, Mina worked hard at school and did as much of the house chores as she possibly could. All for a little appreciation from her father, maybe just a vague smile. Knowing that her father loathed her, she still tried her best to trigger a little bit of emotion in her father’s unyielding heart but in vain.
Years passed by like silent nights and Mina never expressed the pain she felt, it was all safely locked up in her little heart, never to be revealed.
It was early in the morning today, right after dawn, when Mina was awoken by loud voices booming inside her room like satanic demons flying about. Confused and a little panic-stricken, she slowly got up from her bed and almost soundlessly made her way to the tiny opening of her shattered room that led to the adjoining room of her parents. The girl was trembling in fear, as the voices got louder by each step she took. Her heart pounding heavily, she peeked inside the room. To her horror, she saw her father standing at the far end of the room with a huge bamboo stick in his right hand, constantly swearing and yelling, his enraged face had turned red.
Her mother lay on the floor, on the other side of the room, sobbing uncontrollably. Her hair spread all across her face, like a lunatic. Little drops of blood trickled down from her arms and cheeks, from where the bamboo stick had smashed into her.
Her father was still yelling, like an obscene monster whose hunger was yet to be satisfied. The bitter words spoken, passed by like a blurry train to Mina and she couldn’t capture the words. What she was seeing was too appalling for her to absorb. Eventually the words seemed to make sense to her.
“I’m leaving, I’ll go to the City for a job. You can go where ever you want with your daughter!”
“Please...Please..don’t leave us. Where shall we go? This is my home!” The words were almost inaudible through her sobbing.
“I don’t care! You gave birth to a daughter and now I’m cursed!”
Mina could no longer bear to listen to what her father had yet to say. She ran, she ran as fast as her legs would allow her, trying to run away from the words, from the blame. She stopped right next to the river, numerous thoughts racing through her head.
“Had she not tried to be a good daughter?”
“Is gender all that it takes to please a father, or to make a good human being?”
She couldn’t answer her own questions.
It had been hours since she sat by the secluded river. A sudden drop of tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. It was the first time she had cried. She looked up at the night sky; the moon had silently crept into the sky and seemed to stare back at her inquisitively. She smiled back, numb on the inside.
A new day was to begin from tomorrow. A new struggle. A new phase of life. She took one last look at the celestial moon, beaming proudly, and started back towards home. What other wondrous surprises does life have in store for me? She wondered as she carelessly walked through the muddy road.
Her father’s voice still echoed in her head, the words piercing through her soul. Her mother’s face soaked in tears created a picture in her mind that was hard to efface.
Her whole life seemed to be flashing in front of her eyes and she tried to quell the emotions that had bundled up and were about to erupt like a volcano.
The breeze was getting stronger now and the memories kept coming back.
Mina was the only child of her parents, living in the small village of Comilla. The family owned a shabby two-roomed cottage; her father was a fishmonger and her mother stayed home all day, often cleaning the house or cooking. Money was never abundant in the family, unlike her mother’s love for her, who always treated her like a little princess in her own little ways. Her mother would make her little dolls out of old weathered pieces of cloth, stitched together and would always cook her daughter’s favorite meals whenever she would get the opportunity. Mina’s amiable and modest nature earned her the affection of her teachers and neighbors who adored her.
Despite all the love she got, Mina had a constant aching in her heart that haunted her, night and day.
Ever since Mina was old enough to be aware of her surroundings, she developed a tiny void in her heart. She had never gotten to know her father. He had built an icy exterior around himself, which was never to be penetrated especially not by his daughter. Mina feared his arrogance and inexplicable temper, and was tremendously intimidated by him. Even as a young child she could comprehend that her father was completely indifferent towards her and would detest any initiative taken by her to make conversations with him. Once she had asked her mother
“Amma, why does Abba hate me?”
Her mother looked alarmed and instantly put on a awkward smile and replied saying,
“Oh dear, Your Abba doesn’t hate you, who told you that?”
“Well...he never talks to me”
“He is just very busy, he loves you more than I do”
She smiled again reassuringly and ran her hand across Mina’s forehead.
Mina was not to be fooled and it wasn’t long before she was hit by the truth.
It was a cold winter afternoon and the air felt like iced water. Mina was 8 years old then and on that particular Tuesday, was sent back home early from school. She ran all the way home in the bitter weather. As the ecstatic little girl was about to enter the house, she heard voices coming from inside and stopped. Her father was yelling at the top of his voice and she could hear her mother crying.
“It is all your fault! You gave birth to a girl, and I am ashamed to even show my face in public!”
The words hit her like a dagger, cutting through deep into her flesh. Terrified, She ran away from the house and wandered around till it was the usual time for her to come back home from school. She had finally learned the reason for her father’s total disregard of her existence. She did not cry and neither did she hate her father. She wanted him to love her; she wanted him to see that she was no less than a son. She wanted to belong.
When she returned, everything was calm; her father had left and her mother was quietly weeping at the corner of the room sitting on her bed. When she saw Mina, she was a little taken aback, managed a forced smile and wiped her eyes.
“I had a really bad headache”
Even if she hadn’t known the truth, Mina would still know that her mother was lying. The sorrow in her eyes was inevitable.
From that day onwards, Mina worked hard at school and did as much of the house chores as she possibly could. All for a little appreciation from her father, maybe just a vague smile. Knowing that her father loathed her, she still tried her best to trigger a little bit of emotion in her father’s unyielding heart but in vain.
Years passed by like silent nights and Mina never expressed the pain she felt, it was all safely locked up in her little heart, never to be revealed.
It was early in the morning today, right after dawn, when Mina was awoken by loud voices booming inside her room like satanic demons flying about. Confused and a little panic-stricken, she slowly got up from her bed and almost soundlessly made her way to the tiny opening of her shattered room that led to the adjoining room of her parents. The girl was trembling in fear, as the voices got louder by each step she took. Her heart pounding heavily, she peeked inside the room. To her horror, she saw her father standing at the far end of the room with a huge bamboo stick in his right hand, constantly swearing and yelling, his enraged face had turned red.
Her mother lay on the floor, on the other side of the room, sobbing uncontrollably. Her hair spread all across her face, like a lunatic. Little drops of blood trickled down from her arms and cheeks, from where the bamboo stick had smashed into her.
Her father was still yelling, like an obscene monster whose hunger was yet to be satisfied. The bitter words spoken, passed by like a blurry train to Mina and she couldn’t capture the words. What she was seeing was too appalling for her to absorb. Eventually the words seemed to make sense to her.
“I’m leaving, I’ll go to the City for a job. You can go where ever you want with your daughter!”
“Please...Please..don’t leave us. Where shall we go? This is my home!” The words were almost inaudible through her sobbing.
“I don’t care! You gave birth to a daughter and now I’m cursed!”
Mina could no longer bear to listen to what her father had yet to say. She ran, she ran as fast as her legs would allow her, trying to run away from the words, from the blame. She stopped right next to the river, numerous thoughts racing through her head.
“Had she not tried to be a good daughter?”
“Is gender all that it takes to please a father, or to make a good human being?”
She couldn’t answer her own questions.
It had been hours since she sat by the secluded river. A sudden drop of tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. It was the first time she had cried. She looked up at the night sky; the moon had silently crept into the sky and seemed to stare back at her inquisitively. She smiled back, numb on the inside.
A new day was to begin from tomorrow. A new struggle. A new phase of life. She took one last look at the celestial moon, beaming proudly, and started back towards home. What other wondrous surprises does life have in store for me? She wondered as she carelessly walked through the muddy road.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)