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A teacher
Age: 40
Age: 40
Gender: M
Location: Bangladesh
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Two Disasters
Posted 7/8/2008 1:56:20 PM
The world is going on as usual without me because the world is for going. Since I last wrote in the blog, two disasters struck me: first, my Internet compatible mobile phone (Nokia 6630) was stolen and my right eye began to discharge water. After examining, doctor said that the water pipe on my right eye is blocked. After ECG and necessary other tests, I was operated upon.
Before going to the OT, I felt nervous but when I saw my wife shedding some tears of love, I felt happy thinking there is someone who feels for me. This month I have bought a new set and internet SIM. I called my stolen Number out of curiosity thousands of times before one day I got through. I talked with the thief who has audacity to use my SIM.
The proverb goes, ‘when the cat is away, the mice will play.’ In our country the police realize huge amount of money by arresting innocent people and blackmailing them by threatening them to file rape or other criminal cases against them. Hence this sense of immunity from punishment.
For my part, my faith in Allah did not diminish because of those disasters rather I came out of the ordeal as a more vigorous and enlightened one. I came to evaluate more the God-given priceless parts of the body. My treatment in a private medical Hospital gave me a clear idea of Bangladesh’s burgeoning private medical Sector.
Thanks Allah, I am in again with full vigor. I shall continue to write into my favorite blog where I hope to be inspired by Figgy, Flapperball and few other golden hearts.
Posted 7/8/2008 1:56:20 PM
The world is going on as usual without me because the world is for going. Since I last wrote in the blog, two disasters struck me: first, my Internet compatible mobile phone (Nokia 6630) was stolen and my right eye began to discharge water. After examining, doctor said that the water pipe on my right eye is blocked. After ECG and necessary other tests, I was operated upon.
Before going to the OT, I felt nervous but when I saw my wife shedding some tears of love, I felt happy thinking there is someone who feels for me. This month I have bought a new set and internet SIM. I called my stolen Number out of curiosity thousands of times before one day I got through. I talked with the thief who has audacity to use my SIM.
The proverb goes, ‘when the cat is away, the mice will play.’ In our country the police realize huge amount of money by arresting innocent people and blackmailing them by threatening them to file rape or other criminal cases against them. Hence this sense of immunity from punishment.
For my part, my faith in Allah did not diminish because of those disasters rather I came out of the ordeal as a more vigorous and enlightened one. I came to evaluate more the God-given priceless parts of the body. My treatment in a private medical Hospital gave me a clear idea of Bangladesh’s burgeoning private medical Sector.
Thanks Allah, I am in again with full vigor. I shall continue to write into my favorite blog where I hope to be inspired by Figgy, Flapperball and few other golden hearts.
The Poetry Evening
Posted 5/9/2008 11:35:33 PM
That I have to lecture audience of the rooftop ‘Poetry Evening’ to be graced by the presence of local elites and officers as its president unnerved me. The day before yesterday saw a heavy storm and rain. But May 3, 2008 was a sunny cloudless and windy day. A big canopy was fluttering in the afternoon breeze. Robindra song was wafting in the air prior to the meeting as a prelude. A cultural and urbane ambience was created which attracted some educated crowd on the roof of Lini market in the late afternoon.
My casual dress kept nagging my mind taking away my comfort. Though the program was lengthy, it did not seem boring because the presentation was good and the guests’ lectures alternated with recitations of poems by the Library members. It must be mentioned that the program was arranged by the Lalpur Public Library.
All the guests praised the TNO in their speeches terming him the ruler of this area. Establishment locally represented by TNO((Thana(Police station) Nirbahi(executive) Officer)) wields a huge power hence the adoration and showy venerations. So a modest teacher, I was not the centre of attraction. Of course I don’t want to be so. Everybody was busy to make themselves noticeable to TNO so that they can later take an advantage of their acquaintances. However I don’t care whether I am acquainted with someone in power or not. I only rely on Allah, my Creator.
At long last, my turn came to round up the meeting with my closing address. Encouraged by TNO who recited from his stories in the midst of his lecture, I recited my poem on my native village to spice up the lecture. Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment I forgot to thank the audience and declare the meeting closed. I was befuddled by this bad closure for a long time. However, the experience of the meeting gave me an impetus to develop myself intellectually.
In the morning Saiful, a local education officer, came with his grievance that he was one of the special guests but was not allowed to lecture or recite his poem. He said that his wife told him not to recite any poem. Actually, he had a run-in with his wife before the meeting and in the meeting he was excluded from playing any role. So it was double shock for him. Tommy, one of the organizers, excluded Saiful from plying any role. This is the very Tommy who once made love with his wife and nearly broke their family life. Saiful’s grievances salved my hang-up about my bad performance in the meeting.
Thus, many of our problems can evaporate if we look at the less privileged and less graced ones.
Posted 5/9/2008 11:35:33 PM
That I have to lecture audience of the rooftop ‘Poetry Evening’ to be graced by the presence of local elites and officers as its president unnerved me. The day before yesterday saw a heavy storm and rain. But May 3, 2008 was a sunny cloudless and windy day. A big canopy was fluttering in the afternoon breeze. Robindra song was wafting in the air prior to the meeting as a prelude. A cultural and urbane ambience was created which attracted some educated crowd on the roof of Lini market in the late afternoon.
My casual dress kept nagging my mind taking away my comfort. Though the program was lengthy, it did not seem boring because the presentation was good and the guests’ lectures alternated with recitations of poems by the Library members. It must be mentioned that the program was arranged by the Lalpur Public Library.
All the guests praised the TNO in their speeches terming him the ruler of this area. Establishment locally represented by TNO((Thana(Police station) Nirbahi(executive) Officer)) wields a huge power hence the adoration and showy venerations. So a modest teacher, I was not the centre of attraction. Of course I don’t want to be so. Everybody was busy to make themselves noticeable to TNO so that they can later take an advantage of their acquaintances. However I don’t care whether I am acquainted with someone in power or not. I only rely on Allah, my Creator.
At long last, my turn came to round up the meeting with my closing address. Encouraged by TNO who recited from his stories in the midst of his lecture, I recited my poem on my native village to spice up the lecture. Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment I forgot to thank the audience and declare the meeting closed. I was befuddled by this bad closure for a long time. However, the experience of the meeting gave me an impetus to develop myself intellectually.
In the morning Saiful, a local education officer, came with his grievance that he was one of the special guests but was not allowed to lecture or recite his poem. He said that his wife told him not to recite any poem. Actually, he had a run-in with his wife before the meeting and in the meeting he was excluded from playing any role. So it was double shock for him. Tommy, one of the organizers, excluded Saiful from plying any role. This is the very Tommy who once made love with his wife and nearly broke their family life. Saiful’s grievances salved my hang-up about my bad performance in the meeting.
Thus, many of our problems can evaporate if we look at the less privileged and less graced ones.
Soaring Demand for Sharia Law
Posted 4/20/2008 2:23:29 PM
When the government is already caught up in the whirling vortex of rice price hike, it opened another war front by promulgating sensitive laws regarding women. The government should be aware that Islamic movement is on in various incarnations: moderate and radical. Sharia law is being debated whether to be introduced for the Muslim community in London. So being a second largest Islamic country, the people of Bangladesh can demand the government promulgate laws in line with Sharia or at least in a manner that is not contradictory to Islam.
Posted 4/20/2008 2:23:29 PM
When the government is already caught up in the whirling vortex of rice price hike, it opened another war front by promulgating sensitive laws regarding women. The government should be aware that Islamic movement is on in various incarnations: moderate and radical. Sharia law is being debated whether to be introduced for the Muslim community in London. So being a second largest Islamic country, the people of Bangladesh can demand the government promulgate laws in line with Sharia or at least in a manner that is not contradictory to Islam.
I celebrated Pahela Boishakh
Posted 4/14/2008 12:14:10 PM
Have I become an important person in this locality? Why then they invite me to social functions killing my leisure time? Today I attended a prize giving ceremony of Kinder Garten School. When I reached school, the students and the guardians were away in the street in a rally to welcome the Bengali New Year. A short while after, the students with their guardians streamed into the narrow corridor of the house now turned into school. The Owner of the house has sacrificed some of his rooms to house the school. It is no mean feat in context of Bangladesh.
There is a wide gap between the education in the town and that of rural areas. These kinder garten schools are trying their best to narrow the gap. But lack of of good teachers is taking a heavy toll on quality education. My turn of addressing came; I dwelt on importance of teaching every subject in English along with Bengali. After the meeting was over, we the invited guest were taken to the Principal’s room for a slight refreshment. Then I was requested to teach some elementary things of English to the teachers. I tried to be introduced with the teachers in English. But the teachers were not able to express themselves in English. So the principal requested me to train them on special training programs.
Taking leave from them, I went to my in-law’s house to celebrate Pahela Baishak (Benglai New Year). Ilish was a must on the menu. I don’t know whether the poor people who are reeling under price hike of rice are able to buy any elish (Hilsha) fish. After lunch, we had a short nap, then we(my wife, kids and sisters-in-law) went to the Padma River on whose bank a Bishakhi mela was going on. When we reached there a ladhi Khela ( a mock fight between two teams armed with bamboo sticks). Village women were enjoying the game sitting behind the bamboo fence. Hand driven merry-go-round was circling with gleeful children and the makeshift sweet and cheep toy shops were making brisk business. The shops in the markets were decorated with streamers to hold halkahta( hal-present, Khata-account book). As I do not buy anything in credit, I got no invitation from any shop.
The panoramic view of the river and her vast green charlands were inviting us so leaving the podium to corrupt, influential police officers, I went to the lap of nature. Crossing a narrow strip of water we reached the high green charlands (sandy lands by the rivers). Farmers has grown nuts, sugarcane and other crops. All the vast area of charlands were spotted with sari-clad girls and ladies with their pajamas-clad male counterparts. Everybody was enjoying this non-communal day. I knew what was happening in Dhaka. Rich and corrupt people there would leave no stone unturned to celebrate the day with fanfare while the country is reeling under hidden hunger. They will eat stale rice with costly hilsha fish, hold cultural functions and participate in the colorful rally. I also know that after this day when we show extraordinary love for our Bengali culture, we will revert to our old ways of western style of living which is characterized by pop music, funky dress and junky fast food. We will again start to use foreign goods leaving aside indigenous ones. I don’t know when we will mature into a saner nation.
Posted 4/14/2008 12:14:10 PM
Have I become an important person in this locality? Why then they invite me to social functions killing my leisure time? Today I attended a prize giving ceremony of Kinder Garten School. When I reached school, the students and the guardians were away in the street in a rally to welcome the Bengali New Year. A short while after, the students with their guardians streamed into the narrow corridor of the house now turned into school. The Owner of the house has sacrificed some of his rooms to house the school. It is no mean feat in context of Bangladesh.
There is a wide gap between the education in the town and that of rural areas. These kinder garten schools are trying their best to narrow the gap. But lack of of good teachers is taking a heavy toll on quality education. My turn of addressing came; I dwelt on importance of teaching every subject in English along with Bengali. After the meeting was over, we the invited guest were taken to the Principal’s room for a slight refreshment. Then I was requested to teach some elementary things of English to the teachers. I tried to be introduced with the teachers in English. But the teachers were not able to express themselves in English. So the principal requested me to train them on special training programs.
Taking leave from them, I went to my in-law’s house to celebrate Pahela Baishak (Benglai New Year). Ilish was a must on the menu. I don’t know whether the poor people who are reeling under price hike of rice are able to buy any elish (Hilsha) fish. After lunch, we had a short nap, then we(my wife, kids and sisters-in-law) went to the Padma River on whose bank a Bishakhi mela was going on. When we reached there a ladhi Khela ( a mock fight between two teams armed with bamboo sticks). Village women were enjoying the game sitting behind the bamboo fence. Hand driven merry-go-round was circling with gleeful children and the makeshift sweet and cheep toy shops were making brisk business. The shops in the markets were decorated with streamers to hold halkahta( hal-present, Khata-account book). As I do not buy anything in credit, I got no invitation from any shop.
The panoramic view of the river and her vast green charlands were inviting us so leaving the podium to corrupt, influential police officers, I went to the lap of nature. Crossing a narrow strip of water we reached the high green charlands (sandy lands by the rivers). Farmers has grown nuts, sugarcane and other crops. All the vast area of charlands were spotted with sari-clad girls and ladies with their pajamas-clad male counterparts. Everybody was enjoying this non-communal day. I knew what was happening in Dhaka. Rich and corrupt people there would leave no stone unturned to celebrate the day with fanfare while the country is reeling under hidden hunger. They will eat stale rice with costly hilsha fish, hold cultural functions and participate in the colorful rally. I also know that after this day when we show extraordinary love for our Bengali culture, we will revert to our old ways of western style of living which is characterized by pop music, funky dress and junky fast food. We will again start to use foreign goods leaving aside indigenous ones. I don’t know when we will mature into a saner nation.
Rabindranth Tagore and Lalon
Posted 4/9/2008 1:35:35 PM
Being a chairman of Ikra computer Academy, I was invited to join its picnic. Two buses carried us to the spot. On the way we saw the twin bridge: Lalonshah and Hardinge Bridge. We hired a spot for relaxing, doing toilet, cooking and playing at its precincts. After little snacks, we all went to visit the Rabindranath’s Kuthibari.
Buying tickets at the main gate, we entered the wide royal green, flower- bed spotted precincts landscaped with t rare varieties of ancient trees and mango groves. Stepping into the Kuthibari, we walked around the galleries watching portraits of Rabindranath Tagore, photographs of his different phases of life, his work of art and furniture used by him and different types of palanquin
.
Compared to that time Rabindranath led a very luxurious life. He was no Thoreau and luxurious Kuthibaris at Kushtia, Shahzadpur and Nawgan were not his waldens. He was always carried by palanquin across villages and on rivers he had his luxurious house boat. Even he did not use to go to the bathtub outside by the well walking.
As it was his tax collecting house the people living around it was extremely poor. A short essay narrating the poet’s life and achievements hangs on the wall. I studied it so that I could write an essay on the poet for the students. I wished I could stay there for long.
My love for that place came from my love for literature. People don’t visit the place merely to see the building in the rural setting but to reminisce about poet’s glorious life .
We walked around the ancient pond, took tea by its side watching the naughty college students dip in the pond and cheering girl students standing on the concrete steps and the children enjoying the ride on hand-run roundabout.
At last we had to depart the beloved place, but before departing I did not forget to meet Moslem, an unlettered poet who dictated many poems and got them compiled into a book named “From the Procession of Salty Sweat”. I also bought Rabindranath’s Shonchita and a CD of his famous songs from Moslem, the pauper poet.
I also bought some souvenir: a clock placed on the wooden map of Bangladesh and two framed pictures of rural landscape. We felt that our excursion will remain incomplete if we do not visit Lalon’s shrine.
Through the high white gate we entered the mazar (shrine), I offered fateha (making dua) standing by the grave of the great saint. Candle lights got reflected on the studs and sequins sewn to the highly embroidered sheet covering the grave. Some were bowing in front of the grave. I, however, cursorily prayed to Allah uttering the name of the great soul lying in the grave.
Then I enjoyed Lalon songs sung by a girl. Among the audience were two foreigners who were videoing the show all through. Outside the mazar is a big souvenir market where I bought a musical instrument with a tight wire at the middle locally called Aktara ( ak=one, tara=wire). It is a must for every visitor to buy this Aktara as a memento. People love this instrument because it was used by the great rural baoul singer Lalon who influenced Tagore to write our nation anthem using his boul tune. All along the way back home we repeatedly struck on the string of Aktara creating that mysterious sound and reached home late at night with a sweet memory of Tagore and Lalon
Posted 4/9/2008 1:35:35 PM
Being a chairman of Ikra computer Academy, I was invited to join its picnic. Two buses carried us to the spot. On the way we saw the twin bridge: Lalonshah and Hardinge Bridge. We hired a spot for relaxing, doing toilet, cooking and playing at its precincts. After little snacks, we all went to visit the Rabindranath’s Kuthibari.
Buying tickets at the main gate, we entered the wide royal green, flower- bed spotted precincts landscaped with t rare varieties of ancient trees and mango groves. Stepping into the Kuthibari, we walked around the galleries watching portraits of Rabindranath Tagore, photographs of his different phases of life, his work of art and furniture used by him and different types of palanquin
.
Compared to that time Rabindranath led a very luxurious life. He was no Thoreau and luxurious Kuthibaris at Kushtia, Shahzadpur and Nawgan were not his waldens. He was always carried by palanquin across villages and on rivers he had his luxurious house boat. Even he did not use to go to the bathtub outside by the well walking.
As it was his tax collecting house the people living around it was extremely poor. A short essay narrating the poet’s life and achievements hangs on the wall. I studied it so that I could write an essay on the poet for the students. I wished I could stay there for long.
My love for that place came from my love for literature. People don’t visit the place merely to see the building in the rural setting but to reminisce about poet’s glorious life .
We walked around the ancient pond, took tea by its side watching the naughty college students dip in the pond and cheering girl students standing on the concrete steps and the children enjoying the ride on hand-run roundabout.
At last we had to depart the beloved place, but before departing I did not forget to meet Moslem, an unlettered poet who dictated many poems and got them compiled into a book named “From the Procession of Salty Sweat”. I also bought Rabindranath’s Shonchita and a CD of his famous songs from Moslem, the pauper poet.
I also bought some souvenir: a clock placed on the wooden map of Bangladesh and two framed pictures of rural landscape. We felt that our excursion will remain incomplete if we do not visit Lalon’s shrine.
Through the high white gate we entered the mazar (shrine), I offered fateha (making dua) standing by the grave of the great saint. Candle lights got reflected on the studs and sequins sewn to the highly embroidered sheet covering the grave. Some were bowing in front of the grave. I, however, cursorily prayed to Allah uttering the name of the great soul lying in the grave.
Then I enjoyed Lalon songs sung by a girl. Among the audience were two foreigners who were videoing the show all through. Outside the mazar is a big souvenir market where I bought a musical instrument with a tight wire at the middle locally called Aktara ( ak=one, tara=wire). It is a must for every visitor to buy this Aktara as a memento. People love this instrument because it was used by the great rural baoul singer Lalon who influenced Tagore to write our nation anthem using his boul tune. All along the way back home we repeatedly struck on the string of Aktara creating that mysterious sound and reached home late at night with a sweet memory of Tagore and Lalon
Long live my IT Club
Posted 4/7/2008 11:26:14 AM
Some of my students has formed an organization named IITA(Ishwardi Information Technology Association) selecting me its president. Yesterday was its inaugural ceremony in a small auditorium of a local news weekly office. The guests addressed the handful of students sitting on plastic chairs. In Bangladesh everything is done on political lines but I am happy to head some students who do not share my Islamic or political Ideals in toto. I was apprehensive of my week voice but thanks Allah, I addressed the meeting boisterously highlighting the importance of IT education among the information- starved rural area students. Everybody in the meeting was hopeful of its bright future but I was skeptical about its success given the fact that the state of English in Bangladesh is still miserable.
Posted 4/7/2008 11:26:14 AM
Some of my students has formed an organization named IITA(Ishwardi Information Technology Association) selecting me its president. Yesterday was its inaugural ceremony in a small auditorium of a local news weekly office. The guests addressed the handful of students sitting on plastic chairs. In Bangladesh everything is done on political lines but I am happy to head some students who do not share my Islamic or political Ideals in toto. I was apprehensive of my week voice but thanks Allah, I addressed the meeting boisterously highlighting the importance of IT education among the information- starved rural area students. Everybody in the meeting was hopeful of its bright future but I was skeptical about its success given the fact that the state of English in Bangladesh is still miserable.
Shattered Dream of Sonar Bangla
Posted 4/3/2008 1:49:44 PM
I cannot but admit that good progress has been achieved towards decriminalization of the society. The previous governments destroyed every institution. This caretaker government has tried its best to bring back the taste of rule of law though we cannot expect of them cent percent success in view of the overwhelming corruption that has seeped to the bones.
The culture of earning money holding hostage innocent and trusting people is still going on. People of every profession are still earning money disproportionate to their known legal income. Doctors are taking the advantage of the gravity of the patients and realizing unusually high fees. Teachers are doing corruption by not teaching in the classes but doing the same privately to earn money. Police are getting fatter still by thousands of illegal means. Even some journalists have established nexus with law enforcing agencies to put people into the vicious circle of harassment and exploitation.
That day some of the teachers of Ishwardi government college who got selection grade said that they could not draw their arrears without greasing the palm of the account officer who were dilly dallying telling that necessary papers from the government was yet to reach them. Such false pleas are the tools of procrastination which is synonymous with corruption. It is an open secret that accounts offices get a certain amount of percentage over every government bills. Will the government look into this matter?
That day I was reading Anthony Mascarenhas’s A Legacy of Blood that tells of Bangladesh whose people sacrificed most but her leaders betrayed people’s dream of sonar Bangla. People once again want a golden Bangladesh where every citizen will be treated equally and the culture of immunity will go forever. Will this government also fail the people?
Posted 4/3/2008 1:49:44 PM
I cannot but admit that good progress has been achieved towards decriminalization of the society. The previous governments destroyed every institution. This caretaker government has tried its best to bring back the taste of rule of law though we cannot expect of them cent percent success in view of the overwhelming corruption that has seeped to the bones.
The culture of earning money holding hostage innocent and trusting people is still going on. People of every profession are still earning money disproportionate to their known legal income. Doctors are taking the advantage of the gravity of the patients and realizing unusually high fees. Teachers are doing corruption by not teaching in the classes but doing the same privately to earn money. Police are getting fatter still by thousands of illegal means. Even some journalists have established nexus with law enforcing agencies to put people into the vicious circle of harassment and exploitation.
That day some of the teachers of Ishwardi government college who got selection grade said that they could not draw their arrears without greasing the palm of the account officer who were dilly dallying telling that necessary papers from the government was yet to reach them. Such false pleas are the tools of procrastination which is synonymous with corruption. It is an open secret that accounts offices get a certain amount of percentage over every government bills. Will the government look into this matter?
That day I was reading Anthony Mascarenhas’s A Legacy of Blood that tells of Bangladesh whose people sacrificed most but her leaders betrayed people’s dream of sonar Bangla. People once again want a golden Bangladesh where every citizen will be treated equally and the culture of immunity will go forever. Will this government also fail the people?
White Americans’ psyche will prevail
Posted 3/5/2008 8:34:54 PM
Barack Obama’s coming to the forefront in the race to getting the nomination of Democratic Party gave the world a hope that America is maturing into a saner nation. We are now shocked to have an inkling that America is going to elect McCain, a hawk like Bush. Even after winning in Texus and OhioHillary is still trailing Obama but she is likely to win the next primary also given the white American’s psyche. Even if Obama wins the nomination and is elected president of America white Americans will kill him as it is prophesized by Doris Lessing, the present Nobel Prize winner for literature.
Posted 3/5/2008 8:34:54 PM
Barack Obama’s coming to the forefront in the race to getting the nomination of Democratic Party gave the world a hope that America is maturing into a saner nation. We are now shocked to have an inkling that America is going to elect McCain, a hawk like Bush. Even after winning in Texus and OhioHillary is still trailing Obama but she is likely to win the next primary also given the white American’s psyche. Even if Obama wins the nomination and is elected president of America white Americans will kill him as it is prophesized by Doris Lessing, the present Nobel Prize winner for literature.
The neglect of village
Posted 3/3/2008 7:18:04 PM
No wonder our projected GDP growth is less than expected. The immediate past government as well as the present government did nothing to decentralise facilities. When I wake up at dawn I see streams of bikes whose riders go to towns to work there everyday. It indicates that villages have lost their viabilities and self-reliant status. The long neglect of farmers by every government has sapped the village economy. Our plump politicians and rich people vie to possess highly expensive cars while farmers do not get fertiliser to grow crops. Rural areas being shorn of amenities, officers tend to go to big cities creating a vacuum of talent and lack of service in the rural areas. The few officials who work in the rural areas exploit the simple people of village.
Posted 3/3/2008 7:18:04 PM
No wonder our projected GDP growth is less than expected. The immediate past government as well as the present government did nothing to decentralise facilities. When I wake up at dawn I see streams of bikes whose riders go to towns to work there everyday. It indicates that villages have lost their viabilities and self-reliant status. The long neglect of farmers by every government has sapped the village economy. Our plump politicians and rich people vie to possess highly expensive cars while farmers do not get fertiliser to grow crops. Rural areas being shorn of amenities, officers tend to go to big cities creating a vacuum of talent and lack of service in the rural areas. The few officials who work in the rural areas exploit the simple people of village.
Reasons for Rising Robbery
Posted 2/6/2008 5:33:42 PM
The incidents of robbery and burglary had increased across our country, I think, for three reasons. First, many petty businessmen lost their capital during this government’s wholesale demolition of shanties, business and establishments. Secondly, law enforcers especially police still maintain connection with the criminals for their illegal material gratifications. Last but not least, still persisting corruption has made some people unusually rich provoking criminals into acts of robbery and other criminal activities.
Posted 2/6/2008 5:33:42 PM
The incidents of robbery and burglary had increased across our country, I think, for three reasons. First, many petty businessmen lost their capital during this government’s wholesale demolition of shanties, business and establishments. Secondly, law enforcers especially police still maintain connection with the criminals for their illegal material gratifications. Last but not least, still persisting corruption has made some people unusually rich provoking criminals into acts of robbery and other criminal activities.
Dr. Sanaullah, God’s Light Radiant
Posted 1/24/2008 9:05:05 PM
Behold the beauty of the flower garden
And the verdant scene of different trees
Their smiles and fragrance that attract
Thousands of butterflies and honeybees
As if it is Shakespeare’s forest of Arden.
Can you tell me whose golden touch
Brought about this change in this arid land?
He is no other than our outgoing Principal,
Dr. Sanaullah, a diamond, God’s radiant light.
Who is this Prometheus who Stole honors course
From the jaws of Zeus, the government,
For the infusion of cool waves of more students?
For whom this mammoth meetings, flowers and garlands
Tears and sighs, songs and poems?
He is no other than our outgoing Principal,
Dr. Sanaullah, a diamond, God’s radiant light.
Posted 1/24/2008 9:05:05 PM
Behold the beauty of the flower garden
And the verdant scene of different trees
Their smiles and fragrance that attract
Thousands of butterflies and honeybees
As if it is Shakespeare’s forest of Arden.
Can you tell me whose golden touch
Brought about this change in this arid land?
He is no other than our outgoing Principal,
Dr. Sanaullah, a diamond, God’s radiant light.
Who is this Prometheus who Stole honors course
From the jaws of Zeus, the government,
For the infusion of cool waves of more students?
For whom this mammoth meetings, flowers and garlands
Tears and sighs, songs and poems?
He is no other than our outgoing Principal,
Dr. Sanaullah, a diamond, God’s radiant light.
It was not my day
Posted 1/24/2008 8:06:58 AM
Today we celebrated the farewell ceremony of our much-loved Principal, Dr. Md. Sanaullah. It was a grand one. The dais was edged with flower tubs. The table was furnished with costly covers with flower vases on them. When the dignitaries that included ex associate professor Ruhul Amin Pramanic, vice principal and secretary of the stuff council and of course the outgoing principal slated to be the Chairman of Dinajpur Education Board walked onto the dais, girl Students threw petals of flower on them. Some flowers were also sprinkled upon the teachers sitting in front of the dais. Students, teachers , bearers and even sweepers came with bouquets, garland and wreaths to express their love for the principal. The table got piled up with flowers and gifts. It was a rare occasion for every body because it was for the first time that our college had seen such a farewell ceremony full of fanfare and outpouring of love.
But it seemed it was just not my day as I was edged out of giving a speech. It was after much request that the presenter, my junior recited my poem on the outgoing Principal. After taking lunch I met the Principal to take leave of him. He hugged me close and gave me a bouquet and a garland of flower. It was a rare show of his genuine love for me and I turned to go home with contented mind.
The main feature of the meeting was that no person from the establishment such as TNO was invited in view of the fact that teachers are not invited to the farewell meeting of any outgoing administrators.
Posted 1/24/2008 8:06:58 AM
Today we celebrated the farewell ceremony of our much-loved Principal, Dr. Md. Sanaullah. It was a grand one. The dais was edged with flower tubs. The table was furnished with costly covers with flower vases on them. When the dignitaries that included ex associate professor Ruhul Amin Pramanic, vice principal and secretary of the stuff council and of course the outgoing principal slated to be the Chairman of Dinajpur Education Board walked onto the dais, girl Students threw petals of flower on them. Some flowers were also sprinkled upon the teachers sitting in front of the dais. Students, teachers , bearers and even sweepers came with bouquets, garland and wreaths to express their love for the principal. The table got piled up with flowers and gifts. It was a rare occasion for every body because it was for the first time that our college had seen such a farewell ceremony full of fanfare and outpouring of love.
But it seemed it was just not my day as I was edged out of giving a speech. It was after much request that the presenter, my junior recited my poem on the outgoing Principal. After taking lunch I met the Principal to take leave of him. He hugged me close and gave me a bouquet and a garland of flower. It was a rare show of his genuine love for me and I turned to go home with contented mind.
The main feature of the meeting was that no person from the establishment such as TNO was invited in view of the fact that teachers are not invited to the farewell meeting of any outgoing administrators.
I visited my injured friend
Posted 1/13/2008 10:58:58 AM
Yesterday I went to visit my friend who is also a teacher in Natore Govt College learning of his accident. I set out at noon. Fortunately I got a micro that was going to Malanchi, a place that jog my juvenile memories. On the both sides of the road you cannot find that old humble cottages any more. Bangladesh is a vibrating country. Even a very poor people now can afford a tin roof. People in large numbers are seen wearing western style dresses. Private schools, colleges and universities are mushrooming across the country to cater to the growing number of youths. The yields of crops are comparatively high. The sugarcane crop grows high. Gone are those days when we saw the sorry looking low crop fields. The ever-decreasing arable lands are being intensively cropped. People everywhere are trying to do something their the corrupt government fail them. More and more girls are getting education. But cyclone, tidal bore and floods destroy our labour and capital almost every year. For example because of recent cyclone SIDR the people of 18 districts have lost everything-dwellings, crops, cattle and near and dear ones.
For a few miles I was traveling along the road that ran parallel to the Baral River Which has become now lazy, stagnant, narrow and shrunken because of Farakka river diversion barrage built by India. In summer it becomes just a trickle. People then can wade across it. The river is like my beloved. This is the very river that conjures up the memory of my juvenile playmates.
Reaching Natore I phoned my friend to know how to reach his residence. I bought half a kg of grapes, took a rickshaw to a bridge by Natore College. Then I began to walk by the western side of the canal as I was told and on the veranda of the ground floor I found my friend standing. He stood tucking up his lungi (kinda a skirt worn by man) to avid burning pain on scabs. He is badly injured. Sitting on the sofa he related how he met with the accident.
When he was riding a motorbike, another bike with a sack at the back tried to overtake him and his front wheel stuck with the bulging sack. He lost his balance and crashed to the middle of the busy road. He could have been run over by running vehicles. How uncertain our life is! My friend has suffered a lot in his life. During his student life he was a leader of a political party. In one clash with the rival political parties he had to jump from a cornice of a student Hall. From then on he is suffering from a waist pain. It seems that some people come to the world to suffer one pain after another.
But nothing could slacken his taking class and conducting a study circle of teachers. He is an outspoken critic of militants and obscurantism. He says that paying floral tribute or prayer at any monument is not unislamic. His opinion that Shia Muslims are better Muslims and thousand times more formidable to the enemies of Islam has alienated him from many of his comrades.
While we were discussing sundry matters, some girls came for private tuition so my friend took leave of me while Bhabi, his wife, gave me noodles to eat. I took leave of both of them. A feeling of joy coursed through my veins. It was because of meeting two great souls.
Posted 1/13/2008 10:58:58 AM
Yesterday I went to visit my friend who is also a teacher in Natore Govt College learning of his accident. I set out at noon. Fortunately I got a micro that was going to Malanchi, a place that jog my juvenile memories. On the both sides of the road you cannot find that old humble cottages any more. Bangladesh is a vibrating country. Even a very poor people now can afford a tin roof. People in large numbers are seen wearing western style dresses. Private schools, colleges and universities are mushrooming across the country to cater to the growing number of youths. The yields of crops are comparatively high. The sugarcane crop grows high. Gone are those days when we saw the sorry looking low crop fields. The ever-decreasing arable lands are being intensively cropped. People everywhere are trying to do something their the corrupt government fail them. More and more girls are getting education. But cyclone, tidal bore and floods destroy our labour and capital almost every year. For example because of recent cyclone SIDR the people of 18 districts have lost everything-dwellings, crops, cattle and near and dear ones.
For a few miles I was traveling along the road that ran parallel to the Baral River Which has become now lazy, stagnant, narrow and shrunken because of Farakka river diversion barrage built by India. In summer it becomes just a trickle. People then can wade across it. The river is like my beloved. This is the very river that conjures up the memory of my juvenile playmates.
Reaching Natore I phoned my friend to know how to reach his residence. I bought half a kg of grapes, took a rickshaw to a bridge by Natore College. Then I began to walk by the western side of the canal as I was told and on the veranda of the ground floor I found my friend standing. He stood tucking up his lungi (kinda a skirt worn by man) to avid burning pain on scabs. He is badly injured. Sitting on the sofa he related how he met with the accident.
When he was riding a motorbike, another bike with a sack at the back tried to overtake him and his front wheel stuck with the bulging sack. He lost his balance and crashed to the middle of the busy road. He could have been run over by running vehicles. How uncertain our life is! My friend has suffered a lot in his life. During his student life he was a leader of a political party. In one clash with the rival political parties he had to jump from a cornice of a student Hall. From then on he is suffering from a waist pain. It seems that some people come to the world to suffer one pain after another.
But nothing could slacken his taking class and conducting a study circle of teachers. He is an outspoken critic of militants and obscurantism. He says that paying floral tribute or prayer at any monument is not unislamic. His opinion that Shia Muslims are better Muslims and thousand times more formidable to the enemies of Islam has alienated him from many of his comrades.
While we were discussing sundry matters, some girls came for private tuition so my friend took leave of me while Bhabi, his wife, gave me noodles to eat. I took leave of both of them. A feeling of joy coursed through my veins. It was because of meeting two great souls.
Our Government in retrospect
Posted 1/11/2008 7:12:33 AM
In the past the government officials did corruption for both personal greed and political pressure. But now in the absence of any political government they have become tyrant like Kurtz of Heart of Darkness. There are still no laws and its implementation to make police force pro-people. Still there is no monitoring in place to find out the reasons behind unusual delay to have a job done in government offices.
Still government college principals put by a huge amount of money to pay the corrupt audit officials and some Principals are devouring a huge amount of money which might otherwise have been used for academic development.
Because of the myopic wholesale eviction by the present government, Bangladesh lost a huge amount of capital and petty businessmen had to count the cost of demolition of their legal shops apart from losing their clientele. But it is true that without this government some illegal establishments would not have been destroyed.
During this government the education sector remain as usual in a shambles. True, because of private universities, some dropouts are getting education but they have become in most cases the certificate vending institutions. That is why after getting first class in English in a private university, a student cannot write a letter correctly or correct others’ writings.
Talking of achievement of this government, the fist thing that comes to the mind is the law and order situation. With the major leaders in jail and their gangs on the run, the crimes have come down satisfactorily but the hydra head of inflation are driving people mad. It has become the big question that in spite of the absence of high profile corruption the government is unable to do anything tangible for the economic development of the mass. Rather it has put the economy on the back gear by closing jute factories and failing to attract foreign investment.
Posted 1/11/2008 7:12:33 AM
In the past the government officials did corruption for both personal greed and political pressure. But now in the absence of any political government they have become tyrant like Kurtz of Heart of Darkness. There are still no laws and its implementation to make police force pro-people. Still there is no monitoring in place to find out the reasons behind unusual delay to have a job done in government offices.
Still government college principals put by a huge amount of money to pay the corrupt audit officials and some Principals are devouring a huge amount of money which might otherwise have been used for academic development.
Because of the myopic wholesale eviction by the present government, Bangladesh lost a huge amount of capital and petty businessmen had to count the cost of demolition of their legal shops apart from losing their clientele. But it is true that without this government some illegal establishments would not have been destroyed.
During this government the education sector remain as usual in a shambles. True, because of private universities, some dropouts are getting education but they have become in most cases the certificate vending institutions. That is why after getting first class in English in a private university, a student cannot write a letter correctly or correct others’ writings.
Talking of achievement of this government, the fist thing that comes to the mind is the law and order situation. With the major leaders in jail and their gangs on the run, the crimes have come down satisfactorily but the hydra head of inflation are driving people mad. It has become the big question that in spite of the absence of high profile corruption the government is unable to do anything tangible for the economic development of the mass. Rather it has put the economy on the back gear by closing jute factories and failing to attract foreign investment.
Looking back : Eunuchs, the baby rockers
Posted 1/1/2008 9:15:37 PM
On Wednesday, February 11, 2004 when I was sitting in the veranda to mind my baby son, a eunuch named Badsha came and took my son in her/his arm. Three other eunuchs followed her. They began to sing songs playing a small cylindrical drum. I knew them to be smugglers but I did not know that they had started a new business of ‘baby rocking’ as they named it.
They demanded of me two measures of rice and two and a half thousand taka. I told Popy, our housemaid, to give them rice. After getting the rice they demanded the money, I gave them one hundred taka, but they demanded another one hundred taka.
So far I was in a cozy and good mood. Though their sudden soirée shocked me a little, I enjoyed their song and unusual body structures. Especially I looked at the rolls of fat on one the eunuch’s lower back, but later their obstinate tone of demanding money piqued me. So I took the baby from the eunuch and went inside the house locking the witches outside in the veranda. But they were hard nuts to crack. One of the eunuchs began to bang at the door. Fearing that the door may break down, I opened it. Then happened the most horrendous incident.
The eunuch that was hammering at the door got furious at me and in her fury she lifted her lower garment upward and showed me her secret organ and told that they would stay at my house, pee and shit there till they got the money they had demanded. In her feat of anger, she stripped her sari as a result only her chest remained covered with only a small blouse that was swelled by two small darts of her breasts.
Though I was taken aback by this sudden turn of the event and were hard put to pacify the crying baby, I could see her secret organ which was nothing but an uneven shapeless thing, that is, it was neither a penis nor a vulva. However, they got pacified and went away only after I managed to give them twenty more taka. Nervous and humiliated, I phoned the police station but a policeman there dismissed the whole thing as funny. He told me there was such party of eunuchs who lived on this profession of ‘baby rocking’. My wife, a teacher, was in the school. So I winched lonely thinking the humiliating incident.
Their grotesque look and uncouth behavior and wild and unruly deportment unnerved me so much that for a long time I could not get that incident off my head. I wished hundred times that I could smash their heads and dip them in the pond in front of my house.
Posted 1/1/2008 9:15:37 PM
On Wednesday, February 11, 2004 when I was sitting in the veranda to mind my baby son, a eunuch named Badsha came and took my son in her/his arm. Three other eunuchs followed her. They began to sing songs playing a small cylindrical drum. I knew them to be smugglers but I did not know that they had started a new business of ‘baby rocking’ as they named it.
They demanded of me two measures of rice and two and a half thousand taka. I told Popy, our housemaid, to give them rice. After getting the rice they demanded the money, I gave them one hundred taka, but they demanded another one hundred taka.
So far I was in a cozy and good mood. Though their sudden soirée shocked me a little, I enjoyed their song and unusual body structures. Especially I looked at the rolls of fat on one the eunuch’s lower back, but later their obstinate tone of demanding money piqued me. So I took the baby from the eunuch and went inside the house locking the witches outside in the veranda. But they were hard nuts to crack. One of the eunuchs began to bang at the door. Fearing that the door may break down, I opened it. Then happened the most horrendous incident.
The eunuch that was hammering at the door got furious at me and in her fury she lifted her lower garment upward and showed me her secret organ and told that they would stay at my house, pee and shit there till they got the money they had demanded. In her feat of anger, she stripped her sari as a result only her chest remained covered with only a small blouse that was swelled by two small darts of her breasts.
Though I was taken aback by this sudden turn of the event and were hard put to pacify the crying baby, I could see her secret organ which was nothing but an uneven shapeless thing, that is, it was neither a penis nor a vulva. However, they got pacified and went away only after I managed to give them twenty more taka. Nervous and humiliated, I phoned the police station but a policeman there dismissed the whole thing as funny. He told me there was such party of eunuchs who lived on this profession of ‘baby rocking’. My wife, a teacher, was in the school. So I winched lonely thinking the humiliating incident.
Their grotesque look and uncouth behavior and wild and unruly deportment unnerved me so much that for a long time I could not get that incident off my head. I wished hundred times that I could smash their heads and dip them in the pond in front of my house.
An afternoon in the countryside
Posted 12/27/2007 8:48:32 PM
After a few days of day-to-day life, my family members get restless like a goat long tied to a post. So yesterday we went to our wheat field by a man driven van. Dismounting from the van my kids ran to our wheat field. The wheat has grown green and lush. Some goats have cropped wheat low on a small area on the southern edge. Seven lean looking nascent mango trees are as if standing vigil on the field.
After a while we went to the nearby brickfield owned by my brother in law. By the way, because of my education I was able to marry financially above me. Walking along the piles of silvery raw bricks we reached the burning kiln. At the bottom of mammoth tall chimney a dog family set up their homes. My 13-year-old daughter Mim was eager to see them and started walking over the surface, which is covered with gravel so she was not aware of the hole of fire underneath. Fortunately, a stoker of fire timely stopped her. The workers there are walking on the kiln with ease but it’s very dangerous for a green horn. Dust coal mixed with chaff is feeding fire inside the kiln. O God! How hot will be your hellfire that you have prepared for the wrongdoers!
After being warmed in the heat of the kiln, we started let loosing the child in us running along the lonely date-tree-lined country road which is completely covered with moorland grass and less trodden. I ran with my son Rahi in excitement. I lifted him high to show how drops of juice were dripping into the pots fixed to the date trees. I felt like tasting the sweet juice which I used to do in my childhood.
The sun turned red in the western sky when we were walking along the solitary southern bank of a pond excavated to feed soil to the brickfield. The wildness of the bank almost clogged with bean vines gave me a signal that there might be snakes somewhere. No sooner had I thought than I saw a snake slithering on the edge of the protruding vine structure into the pond and another played possum for a while or reluctant to leave his cozy and sunny green bed. Trying to look better, I saw it not to my disappointment. So with fearful tread we walked to the farthest edge of brickfield and reached the waiting van.
But to give the finishing touch, I mounted a hillock of soil to be used in brick making. From there we got a wider view of countryside with humble cottages, ponds and bamboo clumps. Then I visited a ghostly pond nearby which was choked with hyacinth and different kinds of aquatic blooming plants. Our past political leaders siphoned off millions of dollars into their own bank account in foreign countries while the poor farmers cannot completely tap their properties for the lack of capital. That is why we see choked ponds and incomplete houses etc. everywhere. While I was thinking all those things, a ‘Gachi’ meaning ‘a man who procures date juice and boils into molasses’ was busy tapping one of hundreds date trees on the banks of the pond.
The enjoyment of my kids will not consummate if I don’t take them to my in-law’s house. So we went there. One of my brothers in law is a teacher in a privileged college in Dhaka, the capital. He told me to get transferred to Dhaka so that I can earn a lot of money by tutoring students privately. Almost all monetary and administrative privileges being concentrated in Dhaka, the temptation to go there is high in the country. But how can I leave the ease of living in a less busy area of Lalpur and its rolling countryside around?
The van was about to start again when we found Mim missing. The van driver saw her running towards the river nearby with her friend. Dipto my son ran to collect her. At dusk we reached our sweet home. Our Gachi came to fix pots to our date trees in the homestead. He offered to give a pot of juice next morning. When I opened the gate this morning, the Gachi had come and left a pot of juice on the high wall outside. It is the juice and puffed rice that is still churning inside me when I’m hitting on the keyboard to write these things.
Posted 12/27/2007 8:48:32 PM
After a few days of day-to-day life, my family members get restless like a goat long tied to a post. So yesterday we went to our wheat field by a man driven van. Dismounting from the van my kids ran to our wheat field. The wheat has grown green and lush. Some goats have cropped wheat low on a small area on the southern edge. Seven lean looking nascent mango trees are as if standing vigil on the field.
After a while we went to the nearby brickfield owned by my brother in law. By the way, because of my education I was able to marry financially above me. Walking along the piles of silvery raw bricks we reached the burning kiln. At the bottom of mammoth tall chimney a dog family set up their homes. My 13-year-old daughter Mim was eager to see them and started walking over the surface, which is covered with gravel so she was not aware of the hole of fire underneath. Fortunately, a stoker of fire timely stopped her. The workers there are walking on the kiln with ease but it’s very dangerous for a green horn. Dust coal mixed with chaff is feeding fire inside the kiln. O God! How hot will be your hellfire that you have prepared for the wrongdoers!
After being warmed in the heat of the kiln, we started let loosing the child in us running along the lonely date-tree-lined country road which is completely covered with moorland grass and less trodden. I ran with my son Rahi in excitement. I lifted him high to show how drops of juice were dripping into the pots fixed to the date trees. I felt like tasting the sweet juice which I used to do in my childhood.
The sun turned red in the western sky when we were walking along the solitary southern bank of a pond excavated to feed soil to the brickfield. The wildness of the bank almost clogged with bean vines gave me a signal that there might be snakes somewhere. No sooner had I thought than I saw a snake slithering on the edge of the protruding vine structure into the pond and another played possum for a while or reluctant to leave his cozy and sunny green bed. Trying to look better, I saw it not to my disappointment. So with fearful tread we walked to the farthest edge of brickfield and reached the waiting van.
But to give the finishing touch, I mounted a hillock of soil to be used in brick making. From there we got a wider view of countryside with humble cottages, ponds and bamboo clumps. Then I visited a ghostly pond nearby which was choked with hyacinth and different kinds of aquatic blooming plants. Our past political leaders siphoned off millions of dollars into their own bank account in foreign countries while the poor farmers cannot completely tap their properties for the lack of capital. That is why we see choked ponds and incomplete houses etc. everywhere. While I was thinking all those things, a ‘Gachi’ meaning ‘a man who procures date juice and boils into molasses’ was busy tapping one of hundreds date trees on the banks of the pond.
The enjoyment of my kids will not consummate if I don’t take them to my in-law’s house. So we went there. One of my brothers in law is a teacher in a privileged college in Dhaka, the capital. He told me to get transferred to Dhaka so that I can earn a lot of money by tutoring students privately. Almost all monetary and administrative privileges being concentrated in Dhaka, the temptation to go there is high in the country. But how can I leave the ease of living in a less busy area of Lalpur and its rolling countryside around?
The van was about to start again when we found Mim missing. The van driver saw her running towards the river nearby with her friend. Dipto my son ran to collect her. At dusk we reached our sweet home. Our Gachi came to fix pots to our date trees in the homestead. He offered to give a pot of juice next morning. When I opened the gate this morning, the Gachi had come and left a pot of juice on the high wall outside. It is the juice and puffed rice that is still churning inside me when I’m hitting on the keyboard to write these things.
The way I celebrated this year’s Eid ul Azha
Posted 12/24/2007 7:52:46 PM
Eid comes every year to dislocate me from my family because on Eid days I am to go to the village house to enjoy Eids with my widowed mother while my wife and kids go to my in-law’s house. On the last Eid day I woke up early in the morning, said my Fajr prayer, studied the Holy Quran and then took bath in the warm water gushing out directly from the pipe connected to the running pump. Thanks are due to Allah who boils water in winter in the underground layers for the comfort of the poor like us.
The welcome winter sun peeped through the hazy eastern sky and we got ready to go to my father in law’s house in Ramkrishnapur. Reaching there I took a slight breakfast, and set off for my village house. There was no question of buses plying on the street. I hoped that I would get machine-powered van. It was Eid ul Azha so there was no fair being held in Bagha. So even vans were not plying. A lone van driver claimed 30 taka that baulked me. But don’t think me to be so miser.
At last I took a van that took me only unto Madhappur where on a raised Eidgah by a big ancient pond I saw an imam named Helal giving an informal lecture to some handful Musollis. Finding no vehicle I decided to perform my Eid prayer in that Eidgah. It was a new experience.
Some educated up-starts began to remonstrate with the Imam about starting the prayer at the appointed time that is on 9.00 am. But the Imam was reluctant to start with a few Musollis. So the founder of the Eidgah, retired major Johur took votes from the Musollis present and it was decided that prayer would be held at 9.30 am. This is the go in the remote areas that Eid prayers cannot be held on the fixed time. Streams of People clad in Pajamas and caps and armed with prayer mats were converging on Eidgah. I feasted my eyes on the festive look everywhere.
At last main prayer began with a huge number of Musollis. Then followed Imam Shaheb’s ritual lecture. After a short while, some people began to collect money for the development of the Eidgah and for the remuneration of the Imam. People donated generously and the napkins got filled up with notes and coins. At long last Imam Shaheb led Dua in which he urged Allah to save Muslims all over the world from the persecution by the enemies of Islam. Then everybody stood to embrace each other and dispersed.
A very sorry looking old van driver consented luckily to take me to my sister’s house scolding me for bargaining with him over the fair on the Eid day. On the way, however, I was given a lift my one my relatives who was going to his village to offer Fatiha over his mother’s grave.
Everybody of my sister’s family became happy finding me among them after a long time. My sister gave me hotchpotch to eat. After a while I started for my village house. Walking through the country road, I reached the village and found my relatives busy mincing meat from the sacrificed animals. I felt a little embarrassed because I could not say my Eid prayers with my simple village people who expect me to give special Eid lecture in the Eidgah on Islam and the political situations of home and abroad. I failed to give a vent to the ideas that I collected from Internet.
However, several animals had been slaughtered under our mango groove. The specialty of the scene prompted me to take a video. After the proper distribution of meat among the poor and relatives, my bother Hamid took my portion of meat to my house on a bike
And I walked back through lonely corn fields, took some photograph of beautiful mustard fields in their full bloom and date trees fixed with pots getting filled with sweet juice bit by bit. Reaching the main road I took an engine van to Ramkrisnopur, collected my flesh and blood, my wife, and my heart and soul, my kids from my in-law’s house and came to our own sweet home in Upazila town Lalpur where my brother Hamid was watching Eid special packages on TV.
Posted 12/24/2007 7:52:46 PM
Eid comes every year to dislocate me from my family because on Eid days I am to go to the village house to enjoy Eids with my widowed mother while my wife and kids go to my in-law’s house. On the last Eid day I woke up early in the morning, said my Fajr prayer, studied the Holy Quran and then took bath in the warm water gushing out directly from the pipe connected to the running pump. Thanks are due to Allah who boils water in winter in the underground layers for the comfort of the poor like us.
The welcome winter sun peeped through the hazy eastern sky and we got ready to go to my father in law’s house in Ramkrishnapur. Reaching there I took a slight breakfast, and set off for my village house. There was no question of buses plying on the street. I hoped that I would get machine-powered van. It was Eid ul Azha so there was no fair being held in Bagha. So even vans were not plying. A lone van driver claimed 30 taka that baulked me. But don’t think me to be so miser.
At last I took a van that took me only unto Madhappur where on a raised Eidgah by a big ancient pond I saw an imam named Helal giving an informal lecture to some handful Musollis. Finding no vehicle I decided to perform my Eid prayer in that Eidgah. It was a new experience.
Some educated up-starts began to remonstrate with the Imam about starting the prayer at the appointed time that is on 9.00 am. But the Imam was reluctant to start with a few Musollis. So the founder of the Eidgah, retired major Johur took votes from the Musollis present and it was decided that prayer would be held at 9.30 am. This is the go in the remote areas that Eid prayers cannot be held on the fixed time. Streams of People clad in Pajamas and caps and armed with prayer mats were converging on Eidgah. I feasted my eyes on the festive look everywhere.
At last main prayer began with a huge number of Musollis. Then followed Imam Shaheb’s ritual lecture. After a short while, some people began to collect money for the development of the Eidgah and for the remuneration of the Imam. People donated generously and the napkins got filled up with notes and coins. At long last Imam Shaheb led Dua in which he urged Allah to save Muslims all over the world from the persecution by the enemies of Islam. Then everybody stood to embrace each other and dispersed.
A very sorry looking old van driver consented luckily to take me to my sister’s house scolding me for bargaining with him over the fair on the Eid day. On the way, however, I was given a lift my one my relatives who was going to his village to offer Fatiha over his mother’s grave.
Everybody of my sister’s family became happy finding me among them after a long time. My sister gave me hotchpotch to eat. After a while I started for my village house. Walking through the country road, I reached the village and found my relatives busy mincing meat from the sacrificed animals. I felt a little embarrassed because I could not say my Eid prayers with my simple village people who expect me to give special Eid lecture in the Eidgah on Islam and the political situations of home and abroad. I failed to give a vent to the ideas that I collected from Internet.
However, several animals had been slaughtered under our mango groove. The specialty of the scene prompted me to take a video. After the proper distribution of meat among the poor and relatives, my bother Hamid took my portion of meat to my house on a bike
And I walked back through lonely corn fields, took some photograph of beautiful mustard fields in their full bloom and date trees fixed with pots getting filled with sweet juice bit by bit. Reaching the main road I took an engine van to Ramkrisnopur, collected my flesh and blood, my wife, and my heart and soul, my kids from my in-law’s house and came to our own sweet home in Upazila town Lalpur where my brother Hamid was watching Eid special packages on TV.
Correct the Wrongs First
Posted 12/24/2007 7:24:50 PM
I commute from Lalpur to Ishwardi by bus and often find students locked in altercation with the bus conductor over bus fare while the other passengers grumble about students’ bellicose behavior and question the education they get in the educational institution. So it is not without reason when one of our eminent poets termed Dhaka University a dacoit’s village. We saw how quickly some students leaders in different leading educational institutions got rich thanks to the culture of extortion under the aegis of corrupt politicians. Obviously teachers are partly responsible for this overall degradation. Armed not with character and Education, teachers no longer guide the students to right path. We get shocked when teachers act as the political leaders instigating their particular student front to pursue some vested interest. It is time teachers correct their wrongs before demanding the release of the teachers.
Posted 12/24/2007 7:24:50 PM
I commute from Lalpur to Ishwardi by bus and often find students locked in altercation with the bus conductor over bus fare while the other passengers grumble about students’ bellicose behavior and question the education they get in the educational institution. So it is not without reason when one of our eminent poets termed Dhaka University a dacoit’s village. We saw how quickly some students leaders in different leading educational institutions got rich thanks to the culture of extortion under the aegis of corrupt politicians. Obviously teachers are partly responsible for this overall degradation. Armed not with character and Education, teachers no longer guide the students to right path. We get shocked when teachers act as the political leaders instigating their particular student front to pursue some vested interest. It is time teachers correct their wrongs before demanding the release of the teachers.
Stop raking over the past
Posted 12/19/2007 8:48:28 PM
We the secular minded people have lost battle to the Islamists here in Bangladesh who have established a niche in the hearts of the countrymen by doing welfare activities. We squandered our opportunity to make them insignificant by squandering public money while we were in power. We indulged in activities which characterizes the antagonists of Bengali Film. So no matter how vehemently we now clamor for stopping Islam based politics here, it will not strike the chord with the people. We had better stop bickering and start to rebuild the country united without fomenting civil war like situation once again.
Posted 12/19/2007 8:48:28 PM
We the secular minded people have lost battle to the Islamists here in Bangladesh who have established a niche in the hearts of the countrymen by doing welfare activities. We squandered our opportunity to make them insignificant by squandering public money while we were in power. We indulged in activities which characterizes the antagonists of Bengali Film. So no matter how vehemently we now clamor for stopping Islam based politics here, it will not strike the chord with the people. We had better stop bickering and start to rebuild the country united without fomenting civil war like situation once again.
Helping the Hapless people
Posted 12/9/2007 6:07:54 AM
Cyclone and tidal surge have snatched away everything of the surviving people in 18 districts of coastal areas of Bangladesh. The ball is now in the court of those unaffected by this calamity. Calamity visits earth just to test human being’s sympathy for his fellow brothers. We should now rush to the affected area with succor and help the hapless people there out of love not expecting praise or advertisement.
Posted 12/9/2007 6:07:54 AM
Cyclone and tidal surge have snatched away everything of the surviving people in 18 districts of coastal areas of Bangladesh. The ball is now in the court of those unaffected by this calamity. Calamity visits earth just to test human being’s sympathy for his fellow brothers. We should now rush to the affected area with succor and help the hapless people there out of love not expecting praise or advertisement.
Targeting the likes of Taslima
Posted 11/28/2007 7:29:36 PM
Rev. Bosworth-Smith said, "Islam is the most complete, the most sudden and the most extraordinary revolution that has ever come over any nation on earth." But unfortunately, some Muslims like Taslima Nasrin unreasonably question the precepts of Islam. What’s more, she denies outright the existence of any creator. But almost all the scientists now are at one with the fact that life is too difficult to have arisen by chance i.e. without any creator. So when some people vent their anger at one who get succor from the creator but still deny the hand that feeds him/her and play with religious sentiment of teeming millions, I become anything but surprised.
Posted 11/28/2007 7:29:36 PM
Rev. Bosworth-Smith said, "Islam is the most complete, the most sudden and the most extraordinary revolution that has ever come over any nation on earth." But unfortunately, some Muslims like Taslima Nasrin unreasonably question the precepts of Islam. What’s more, she denies outright the existence of any creator. But almost all the scientists now are at one with the fact that life is too difficult to have arisen by chance i.e. without any creator. So when some people vent their anger at one who get succor from the creator but still deny the hand that feeds him/her and play with religious sentiment of teeming millions, I become anything but surprised.
Islam Bashing Again
Posted 10/29/2007 2:43:52 PM
Left-leaning parties have again started Jamaat bashing. Though the main problem of Bangladesh is now corruption, some politicians seem to be up and doing in speaking undemocratic things in demanding the closure of Islam-based politics. Whatever is good for this world is permissible in Islam, then why do you question Islam’s share in politics when people do politics with other idealism like communism. I think some people’s hard line against Islam ignite Jihadism among some fervent Muslims which is creating dire situations in many countries. In Turkey Islamists are at the help of the government and Iran was precursor in this regard. Why cannot it be emulated in our country?
In fact, speaking against political nature of Islam is one kind of blasphemy because politics is integral to Islam. If most people accept Islamic party why you some bickering corrupt leaders complain? AL ruled this country for decades with the end result that Bangladesh became the most corrupt country of the world. Islamic parties had no part in that vile game of corruption. What is most important at this juncture is to shun age-old obscurantism, highhandedness, and favoritism and much ado about nothing and excel in welfare activities to win back peoples’ regard for the politicians.
Posted 10/29/2007 2:43:52 PM
Left-leaning parties have again started Jamaat bashing. Though the main problem of Bangladesh is now corruption, some politicians seem to be up and doing in speaking undemocratic things in demanding the closure of Islam-based politics. Whatever is good for this world is permissible in Islam, then why do you question Islam’s share in politics when people do politics with other idealism like communism. I think some people’s hard line against Islam ignite Jihadism among some fervent Muslims which is creating dire situations in many countries. In Turkey Islamists are at the help of the government and Iran was precursor in this regard. Why cannot it be emulated in our country?
In fact, speaking against political nature of Islam is one kind of blasphemy because politics is integral to Islam. If most people accept Islamic party why you some bickering corrupt leaders complain? AL ruled this country for decades with the end result that Bangladesh became the most corrupt country of the world. Islamic parties had no part in that vile game of corruption. What is most important at this juncture is to shun age-old obscurantism, highhandedness, and favoritism and much ado about nothing and excel in welfare activities to win back peoples’ regard for the politicians.
Eid ul Fitr/07
Posted 10/25/2007 6:34:08 AM
This years Eid- ul- Fitr is special for me. I felt a sense of achievement when I mediated a dispute between two families. Negotiating the mud of the country road and cursing the government for not doing anything to metal the road, I reached my house. Mother was busing preparing Eid’s special food. There was a festive look all around. The house was abuzz with children’s joyous voice. I got to clean the house. The people of our village are remaining as clumsy and untidy as before. I took down the mosquito curtain, folded it and put in the shelf. Mother told us to have breakfast which included Semai, chapatti and meat. After doing my ablution and donning Eid dress I went to the Eid gah maidan which was already full. I was going to sit in the rear row but I was told to come forward and take my seat behind Imam. After the special Eid prayer, I was told to say something to the village people. I started my lecture thanking the people, and praising Allah and Our beloved prophet Muhammad (s). I briefed them on the political situation of home and abroad. Then I suggested them to read the Holy Quran and Hadeeth and books of knowledge to better their life stiles. Specifically I told them not to be miser and materialistic. I urged them to forget all enmity and mend all differences. I mentioned about the case filed against each other which are eating into their meager income.
After the Eid prayer I visited houses of the rival families and heard their grievances. Then after the asr prayer we the village people sat in front of the mosque to settle the dispute over a piece of land that was bought by two rival factions. After much deliberation, we came to the decision that until the court gives a verdict over the ownership of the land, the land will be under the supervision of the Mosque authority. It was also agreed that the standing sugarcane will go to the cultivator. When I was writing the resolution, Hazrat of the notorious Abu family disagreed with the decision of handing the standing sugarcane to the cultivator Narul. The meeting ended in a chaos but we did not budge from our agreed decision. I duly signed the agreement and sealed it.
Now I came to know that the notorious Abu family members are threatening to cut the standing sugarcane of the disputed land by force. An FIR has been filed with the local Lalpur Police station informing police of the matter. I suffered for a few days from the hangover of the failed negotiation. I wonder why some people are so incorrigible.
Posted 10/25/2007 6:34:08 AM
This years Eid- ul- Fitr is special for me. I felt a sense of achievement when I mediated a dispute between two families. Negotiating the mud of the country road and cursing the government for not doing anything to metal the road, I reached my house. Mother was busing preparing Eid’s special food. There was a festive look all around. The house was abuzz with children’s joyous voice. I got to clean the house. The people of our village are remaining as clumsy and untidy as before. I took down the mosquito curtain, folded it and put in the shelf. Mother told us to have breakfast which included Semai, chapatti and meat. After doing my ablution and donning Eid dress I went to the Eid gah maidan which was already full. I was going to sit in the rear row but I was told to come forward and take my seat behind Imam. After the special Eid prayer, I was told to say something to the village people. I started my lecture thanking the people, and praising Allah and Our beloved prophet Muhammad (s). I briefed them on the political situation of home and abroad. Then I suggested them to read the Holy Quran and Hadeeth and books of knowledge to better their life stiles. Specifically I told them not to be miser and materialistic. I urged them to forget all enmity and mend all differences. I mentioned about the case filed against each other which are eating into their meager income.
After the Eid prayer I visited houses of the rival families and heard their grievances. Then after the asr prayer we the village people sat in front of the mosque to settle the dispute over a piece of land that was bought by two rival factions. After much deliberation, we came to the decision that until the court gives a verdict over the ownership of the land, the land will be under the supervision of the Mosque authority. It was also agreed that the standing sugarcane will go to the cultivator. When I was writing the resolution, Hazrat of the notorious Abu family disagreed with the decision of handing the standing sugarcane to the cultivator Narul. The meeting ended in a chaos but we did not budge from our agreed decision. I duly signed the agreement and sealed it.
Now I came to know that the notorious Abu family members are threatening to cut the standing sugarcane of the disputed land by force. An FIR has been filed with the local Lalpur Police station informing police of the matter. I suffered for a few days from the hangover of the failed negotiation. I wonder why some people are so incorrigible.
English Language Club : a new sun on our college
Posted 9/17/2007 1:27:25 AM
Today I with the help of some enthusiastic students was able to open an English Language Club in my college. As the state of English teaching in our counry is very deplorable, I think such Language clubs if introduced in every schools and colleges, will go a long way in promoting English.
In the first class, I introduced the students with internet. They read newspapers and looked up the words on the online dictionaries.
I am always ready to serve the students beyond my class but other teachers are reluctant to serve without money. They say that thy will not drive willd buffalows eating at their own cost.
But if some people do not come forward to help others our society will not grow. But how long I can carry on with my noble pursute facing the music of other teachers is a big question.
Posted 9/17/2007 1:27:25 AM
Today I with the help of some enthusiastic students was able to open an English Language Club in my college. As the state of English teaching in our counry is very deplorable, I think such Language clubs if introduced in every schools and colleges, will go a long way in promoting English.
In the first class, I introduced the students with internet. They read newspapers and looked up the words on the online dictionaries.
I am always ready to serve the students beyond my class but other teachers are reluctant to serve without money. They say that thy will not drive willd buffalows eating at their own cost.
But if some people do not come forward to help others our society will not grow. But how long I can carry on with my noble pursute facing the music of other teachers is a big question.
Having a tooth out
Posted 8/7/2007 6:10:33 PM
After suffering heavy bout of toothache, yesterday (07/08/2007) I went to the dentist’s to get one of my teeth extracted. The doctor lay me on a special divan like chair and said it wont hurt. But when he pushed the syringe in the gum it belied his word and when he pulled the affected teeth out , I heard a sound like a tree being uprooted. The dentist showed me the extracted tooth, which looked longer and badly decayed. At chemist’s, I met a friend who said that from then on I would face difficulty eating meat. I have lost a small gift given to me by Allah. Should not we give thanks to The Creator for every gift to us?
Posted 8/7/2007 6:10:33 PM
After suffering heavy bout of toothache, yesterday (07/08/2007) I went to the dentist’s to get one of my teeth extracted. The doctor lay me on a special divan like chair and said it wont hurt. But when he pushed the syringe in the gum it belied his word and when he pulled the affected teeth out , I heard a sound like a tree being uprooted. The dentist showed me the extracted tooth, which looked longer and badly decayed. At chemist’s, I met a friend who said that from then on I would face difficulty eating meat. I have lost a small gift given to me by Allah. Should not we give thanks to The Creator for every gift to us?
Journey to Chittagong
Posted 8/4/2007 4:34:40 PM
I went to Chittagong with some of my fellow teachers though I was suffering from fever. Our bus started for Dhaka at night after much dilly-dallying. Our bus coursed through the dark night and reached Dhaka at dead of night when people were sleeping in the apartments and homes but only I could not sleep for my fever. The slower speed of the bus angered my bickering travel mates. We cooked our breakfast in front of a Madrasha compound whose toilet was too filthy for me to use that prompted me to go to a restaurant nearby. We took our lunch at another Madrasha compound whose latrine was also too filthy to use. However, when we reached Cox’s Bazaar the sun was setting with its immense crimson glory. At dusk we reached the roaring waves of the sea, took some photographs. I could not enjoy the beauty of the sea because of my fever. I only looked at the vastness of the sky above and the sea below. The teeming millions on the beach seemed to me fools with no feelings for the real meaning of life. We put up in a mosque at Cox’s Bazaar and in the morning went to Himchhori , a place beautified with rugged hills, gorges and streams by the rumbling blue sea. The bus journey to Himchhori by the marine drive was a memorable experience. Walking up the steep stair we reached the peak of a hill from where we had a bird sight view of the sea below to the south beyond the immense greeneries by the hills. The main attraction of Himchhori of course is a natural stream that is coursing down from a low hilltop. Some of our travel mates took a pleasure bath under the stream.
We got on the bus to visit Technaf. The beech in Technaf is rich with natural beauty: the tranquil village almost covered with gardens in and around in one side and the sounding splashes of waves on the other uncorrupted by the richer people. I enjoyed the Technaf beach because of its few visitors and the natural beauty. After taking some photographs we returned to the Technaf Bazaar, took our lunch under the open sky. Then some of us went to Technaf market which is famous for Burmese goods. As my wife was against my visiting Chittagong, to please her I bought her a Sari and a slipper, a slipper for my younger son Rahi. I wanted to buy many more things but for the thinning of my pocket.
Returning to Chittagong, we again put up in a mosque. The cold weather and my fever proved a nightmare for me. The next morning we went to Bandarbon to visit the Buddhist Monastery built on a tall hill. The fever sapped my energy so I had difficulty climbing all the way to the top. The golden monastery with it highest vintage point and rolling hills all around was worth visiting.
Our next leg of visit was Rangamati. Walking across the suspension bridge built over the natural lake was a thrilling experience. We made friend with a Chakma woman. She invited us to his house on a hillock. Thinking that going further into the remote area may invite trouble, we returned to our camp. The bus started for Lalpur, my home town. After a long tedious night journey we arrived in the morning.
Posted 8/4/2007 4:34:40 PM
I went to Chittagong with some of my fellow teachers though I was suffering from fever. Our bus started for Dhaka at night after much dilly-dallying. Our bus coursed through the dark night and reached Dhaka at dead of night when people were sleeping in the apartments and homes but only I could not sleep for my fever. The slower speed of the bus angered my bickering travel mates. We cooked our breakfast in front of a Madrasha compound whose toilet was too filthy for me to use that prompted me to go to a restaurant nearby. We took our lunch at another Madrasha compound whose latrine was also too filthy to use. However, when we reached Cox’s Bazaar the sun was setting with its immense crimson glory. At dusk we reached the roaring waves of the sea, took some photographs. I could not enjoy the beauty of the sea because of my fever. I only looked at the vastness of the sky above and the sea below. The teeming millions on the beach seemed to me fools with no feelings for the real meaning of life. We put up in a mosque at Cox’s Bazaar and in the morning went to Himchhori , a place beautified with rugged hills, gorges and streams by the rumbling blue sea. The bus journey to Himchhori by the marine drive was a memorable experience. Walking up the steep stair we reached the peak of a hill from where we had a bird sight view of the sea below to the south beyond the immense greeneries by the hills. The main attraction of Himchhori of course is a natural stream that is coursing down from a low hilltop. Some of our travel mates took a pleasure bath under the stream.
We got on the bus to visit Technaf. The beech in Technaf is rich with natural beauty: the tranquil village almost covered with gardens in and around in one side and the sounding splashes of waves on the other uncorrupted by the richer people. I enjoyed the Technaf beach because of its few visitors and the natural beauty. After taking some photographs we returned to the Technaf Bazaar, took our lunch under the open sky. Then some of us went to Technaf market which is famous for Burmese goods. As my wife was against my visiting Chittagong, to please her I bought her a Sari and a slipper, a slipper for my younger son Rahi. I wanted to buy many more things but for the thinning of my pocket.
Returning to Chittagong, we again put up in a mosque. The cold weather and my fever proved a nightmare for me. The next morning we went to Bandarbon to visit the Buddhist Monastery built on a tall hill. The fever sapped my energy so I had difficulty climbing all the way to the top. The golden monastery with it highest vintage point and rolling hills all around was worth visiting.
Our next leg of visit was Rangamati. Walking across the suspension bridge built over the natural lake was a thrilling experience. We made friend with a Chakma woman. She invited us to his house on a hillock. Thinking that going further into the remote area may invite trouble, we returned to our camp. The bus started for Lalpur, my home town. After a long tedious night journey we arrived in the morning.
Shylock and the same old tactic
Posted 7/29/2007 9:07:11 PM
I studied Merchant of Venice by Shakespeare with interest. It is a fine love story involving love; it’s test and racial conflict between Christianity and Jewish religion. Bassanio needed money to woo his lover Portia, an accomplished lady who inherited a fortune from her father who wished before his death that portia choose her husband according to whoever suitor chooses the right one from the three caskets.
Suffering a heavy loss in business Bassanio sought money from his friend Antonio but Antonio failed to give him money because he invested all his money in his ships. So Antonio advises him to secure the money from Shylock, the usurer. Antonio runs surety for the money that if he fails to pay the money by a certain date, he will allow Shylock to cut a pound of flesh from his body. Shylock’s intention was to revenge the ill- treatment meted out to him by Christians and especially by Antonio who gives money to people gratis.
Arriving at Belmont, fortunately Bassanio chooses the right casket and marries Portia and with that he becomes a rich and happy man but his happiness is cut short when a letter comes from Antonio telling that he is in jail having failed to pay the money in time.
Bassanio rushes to Venice from Belmont to help rescue his friend. Before his departure Portia gives him a ring taking a word from him that he will in no case part with it. Instead of being embarrassed by the fact that Bassanio borrowed money from Antonio, Portia begins to love Bassanio all the more. So we see that with the help of his counselor uncle, she manages to be present in the court in the guise of a young lawyer.
The trial begins with Portia entreating Shylock to be merciful. She begins her pleading Shylock with these impassioned words-
The quality of mercy is not strained,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
But all the entireties fails to melt Shylock. He arrogantly demands the penalty forfeited in the bond. Having failed to convince Shylock, Portia now in the guise of a layer tells Shylock to cut a pound of flesh from Antonio’s body. But shortly afterwards cleverly twisting the clause of the bond denies shylock of his bond. She tells shylock to cut the flesh but tell him to make sure that Antonio does bleed to death. She tells him that the bond does not allow him to shed any blood. Thus shylock finds his bond forfeited.
Now the ball is in the court of Portia representing Christianity. But instead of showing mercy she brings Shylock to his knees and take away all his properties. All his wealth is divided into two halves-one half goes to the state and the other to Antonio who apparent shows mercy to Shylock by offering to surrender his half of Shylock’s property provided firstly that Shylock promises to will that property to his daughter Jessica who married Lorenzo a Christian and a friend of Antonio and secondly Shylock accept Christianity. It should be mentioned that, Shylock disinherited his daughter because of her marrying a Christian.
The same is true with some present day Christians who speaks mercy but do the quite opposite. The western countries are now exploiting the poor countries by multinational companies and by conditioned aid, which ultimately sap the economy of the already impoverished countries. It is the same old tactics of the western civilization that inspired Conrad to write his novella The Heart of Darkness.
Posted 7/29/2007 9:07:11 PM
I studied Merchant of Venice by Shakespeare with interest. It is a fine love story involving love; it’s test and racial conflict between Christianity and Jewish religion. Bassanio needed money to woo his lover Portia, an accomplished lady who inherited a fortune from her father who wished before his death that portia choose her husband according to whoever suitor chooses the right one from the three caskets.
Suffering a heavy loss in business Bassanio sought money from his friend Antonio but Antonio failed to give him money because he invested all his money in his ships. So Antonio advises him to secure the money from Shylock, the usurer. Antonio runs surety for the money that if he fails to pay the money by a certain date, he will allow Shylock to cut a pound of flesh from his body. Shylock’s intention was to revenge the ill- treatment meted out to him by Christians and especially by Antonio who gives money to people gratis.
Arriving at Belmont, fortunately Bassanio chooses the right casket and marries Portia and with that he becomes a rich and happy man but his happiness is cut short when a letter comes from Antonio telling that he is in jail having failed to pay the money in time.
Bassanio rushes to Venice from Belmont to help rescue his friend. Before his departure Portia gives him a ring taking a word from him that he will in no case part with it. Instead of being embarrassed by the fact that Bassanio borrowed money from Antonio, Portia begins to love Bassanio all the more. So we see that with the help of his counselor uncle, she manages to be present in the court in the guise of a young lawyer.
The trial begins with Portia entreating Shylock to be merciful. She begins her pleading Shylock with these impassioned words-
The quality of mercy is not strained,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
But all the entireties fails to melt Shylock. He arrogantly demands the penalty forfeited in the bond. Having failed to convince Shylock, Portia now in the guise of a layer tells Shylock to cut a pound of flesh from Antonio’s body. But shortly afterwards cleverly twisting the clause of the bond denies shylock of his bond. She tells shylock to cut the flesh but tell him to make sure that Antonio does bleed to death. She tells him that the bond does not allow him to shed any blood. Thus shylock finds his bond forfeited.
Now the ball is in the court of Portia representing Christianity. But instead of showing mercy she brings Shylock to his knees and take away all his properties. All his wealth is divided into two halves-one half goes to the state and the other to Antonio who apparent shows mercy to Shylock by offering to surrender his half of Shylock’s property provided firstly that Shylock promises to will that property to his daughter Jessica who married Lorenzo a Christian and a friend of Antonio and secondly Shylock accept Christianity. It should be mentioned that, Shylock disinherited his daughter because of her marrying a Christian.
The same is true with some present day Christians who speaks mercy but do the quite opposite. The western countries are now exploiting the poor countries by multinational companies and by conditioned aid, which ultimately sap the economy of the already impoverished countries. It is the same old tactics of the western civilization that inspired Conrad to write his novella The Heart of Darkness.
Water and love: vital for life
Posted 7/26/2007 8:54:48 PM
Yesterday morning it was pouring to my satisfaction that the newly constructed upper story will get wet and fortified, I was teaching a student in the drawing room privately when my wife shouted, “our motor is gone”.
I rushed to the veranda to see. The bricks that made a loose shed for the motor were lying scattered. The same became the condition of my mind anticipating all the troubles in the house for the lack of a water motor in the house.
My wife began to get on my nerve blaming me for facilitating the theft. I thought that no one would steal the motor so I disregarded my wife’s suggestion to get the motor secured with the help of a mason. She also pointed that our neighbor’s motor is also stolen.
Petty crimes are on the rise because many people have got dispossessed of their petty incomes from roadside shops, which were removed by the present government.
I felt lost at the loss of the motor but what seemed unbearable to me is the continuous bickering of my wife. Today she understood my torment and mellowed down and with that all my stress is blown away and the environment is again airy and lovely. How essential woman’s love is for a man or vise versa!
I’ve got a new motor firmly fixed and secured. Now I hope I can sleep a sound sleep as now I’ve got a flow of water and a lady’s love.
Posted 7/26/2007 8:54:48 PM
Yesterday morning it was pouring to my satisfaction that the newly constructed upper story will get wet and fortified, I was teaching a student in the drawing room privately when my wife shouted, “our motor is gone”.
I rushed to the veranda to see. The bricks that made a loose shed for the motor were lying scattered. The same became the condition of my mind anticipating all the troubles in the house for the lack of a water motor in the house.
My wife began to get on my nerve blaming me for facilitating the theft. I thought that no one would steal the motor so I disregarded my wife’s suggestion to get the motor secured with the help of a mason. She also pointed that our neighbor’s motor is also stolen.
Petty crimes are on the rise because many people have got dispossessed of their petty incomes from roadside shops, which were removed by the present government.
I felt lost at the loss of the motor but what seemed unbearable to me is the continuous bickering of my wife. Today she understood my torment and mellowed down and with that all my stress is blown away and the environment is again airy and lovely. How essential woman’s love is for a man or vise versa!
I’ve got a new motor firmly fixed and secured. Now I hope I can sleep a sound sleep as now I’ve got a flow of water and a lady’s love.
The river and my beloved
Posted 7/24/2007 5:58:31 PM
My desire to visit those places where I spent most of my High School days was fulfilled the day before yesterday when I went to Natore, my district town to pay off insurance money. After depositing the money, I took a rickshaw to Tebaria where I found a machine powered homemade three-wheeler locally called Nosimon throbbing to take one more passenger. So when I sat at the rearmost seat, the van started and soon we were passing through the verdant field on the both sides of the narrow single road. My heart was quivering with joy anticipating seeing those memory-laden places once again after about 27 years. Much water has flowed down the small algae infested brook I swam in, the boys I played with must have grown like me and the girl, my distant relative, I madly loved is now surely married and mother of a few children.
When I reached a completely changed Tamaltala. I found difficulty finding the High school I studied from grade six to eight. Where are those girls I met on the banks of Baral river-I began digging up those memories. I passed by the house of my beloved, looked at her but she could not perhaps recognize me in my present get up and state, my baldhead and a little austere look. I was worried about becoming face to face with someone I knew. So I passed those places very quickly. Of course, I wished I would meet my beloved, pray for a last chance to fondle her as before 27 years ago. I wished to walk by the side of the riverbank savoring the memory of the past but it was not possible then. I didn’t desire to be exposed. I wanted to be impersonal so that I can freely look at the changed villages and their people who once loved me. I walked along the country road, communed with the lush green lonely field, singing with ecstasy. And I reached home, I felt high. I feel now mean and empty again facing the drudgery of routine life, waiting for the next opportunity to be among the pristine nature.
Posted 7/24/2007 5:58:31 PM
My desire to visit those places where I spent most of my High School days was fulfilled the day before yesterday when I went to Natore, my district town to pay off insurance money. After depositing the money, I took a rickshaw to Tebaria where I found a machine powered homemade three-wheeler locally called Nosimon throbbing to take one more passenger. So when I sat at the rearmost seat, the van started and soon we were passing through the verdant field on the both sides of the narrow single road. My heart was quivering with joy anticipating seeing those memory-laden places once again after about 27 years. Much water has flowed down the small algae infested brook I swam in, the boys I played with must have grown like me and the girl, my distant relative, I madly loved is now surely married and mother of a few children.
When I reached a completely changed Tamaltala. I found difficulty finding the High school I studied from grade six to eight. Where are those girls I met on the banks of Baral river-I began digging up those memories. I passed by the house of my beloved, looked at her but she could not perhaps recognize me in my present get up and state, my baldhead and a little austere look. I was worried about becoming face to face with someone I knew. So I passed those places very quickly. Of course, I wished I would meet my beloved, pray for a last chance to fondle her as before 27 years ago. I wished to walk by the side of the riverbank savoring the memory of the past but it was not possible then. I didn’t desire to be exposed. I wanted to be impersonal so that I can freely look at the changed villages and their people who once loved me. I walked along the country road, communed with the lush green lonely field, singing with ecstasy. And I reached home, I felt high. I feel now mean and empty again facing the drudgery of routine life, waiting for the next opportunity to be among the pristine nature.
The Characters of Desdemona and Emilia
Posted 7/23/2007 11:35:47 AM
Some critics’ statement that Shakespeare is a feminist is well established through his depiction of the Characters of Desdemona, Emilia et al.
In the very beginning of the drama we come to know that Desdemona is a woman of strong will because she decided to marry Othello, a moor of black complexion, defying all thought of adverse consequence entailing this marriage. And when her father challenged their marriage she came forward with her characteristic uprightness to assert her rights as a married woman to her father and that Othello should not be blamed because she was ‘half the wooer.’
Desdemona loved her husband with unalloyed heart where there was not a slightest iota of meanness and unfaithfulness but she became the victim of her own greatness. She pleaded for the reinstatement of Cassio at a time when Iago poisoned Othello against Cassio that the later was in love with Desdemona.
The fire of jealousy turned into inferno when Desdemona failed to produce the handkerchief. She tried to pacify her husband by simple jokes but her husband who was unaware of the fact that Iago got the handkerchief stolen by his wife Emilia, became furious and suffocated Desdemona to death. Before death, Desdemona tried to assert her innocence but her husband did not listen to her plea. Earlier she was numbed by the false allegation made by her husband against her and went to bed but could not protest. Some critics are unwilling to take it as her weakness rather take it as her protest against her husband’s change of mind.
On the other hand, Emilia is a good but weak woman who expressed her willingness to go to bed with other men. We find her not protesting her husbands derogatory remarks against woman rather She stole the handkerchief from Desdemona’s chamber on the plea of copying its design but by her act she served the evil design of her husband who fell the handkerchief on Cassio’s way. Though she didn’t protest at first against her husband’s wickedness but at long last she come out from her cocoon and exposed her husband’s Mephistophelean design. In act 5, she refuses to be sent away by Iago and tells everyone what he has done and refers to Othelo as a devil for suffocating and murdering Desdemona without just reasoning.
In fact, both Desdemona and Emilia grow tiresome of being spoken down to and treated inferior by the dominant males within the play but ultimately it is Emilia who breaks down these barriers and refuses to be dictated to any longer whereas Desdemona is unable to plead her case to Othelo when he confronts her in the bedroom despite the fact she is innocent.
Thus we see that though Desdemona was a strong willed woman in the beginning but before the unexpected allegation of her infidelity she remained mild and submissive. It seems she became too shocked to protest. As if she submitted to the cruelty of her fate. On the other hand, Emila at the end break the ice and assert herself though in the beginning we find her to be a weak woman. In short, we can say that Desdemona is the pure virgin and Emilia is the dutiful wife.
Posted 7/23/2007 11:35:47 AM
Some critics’ statement that Shakespeare is a feminist is well established through his depiction of the Characters of Desdemona, Emilia et al.
In the very beginning of the drama we come to know that Desdemona is a woman of strong will because she decided to marry Othello, a moor of black complexion, defying all thought of adverse consequence entailing this marriage. And when her father challenged their marriage she came forward with her characteristic uprightness to assert her rights as a married woman to her father and that Othello should not be blamed because she was ‘half the wooer.’
Desdemona loved her husband with unalloyed heart where there was not a slightest iota of meanness and unfaithfulness but she became the victim of her own greatness. She pleaded for the reinstatement of Cassio at a time when Iago poisoned Othello against Cassio that the later was in love with Desdemona.
The fire of jealousy turned into inferno when Desdemona failed to produce the handkerchief. She tried to pacify her husband by simple jokes but her husband who was unaware of the fact that Iago got the handkerchief stolen by his wife Emilia, became furious and suffocated Desdemona to death. Before death, Desdemona tried to assert her innocence but her husband did not listen to her plea. Earlier she was numbed by the false allegation made by her husband against her and went to bed but could not protest. Some critics are unwilling to take it as her weakness rather take it as her protest against her husband’s change of mind.
On the other hand, Emilia is a good but weak woman who expressed her willingness to go to bed with other men. We find her not protesting her husbands derogatory remarks against woman rather She stole the handkerchief from Desdemona’s chamber on the plea of copying its design but by her act she served the evil design of her husband who fell the handkerchief on Cassio’s way. Though she didn’t protest at first against her husband’s wickedness but at long last she come out from her cocoon and exposed her husband’s Mephistophelean design. In act 5, she refuses to be sent away by Iago and tells everyone what he has done and refers to Othelo as a devil for suffocating and murdering Desdemona without just reasoning.
In fact, both Desdemona and Emilia grow tiresome of being spoken down to and treated inferior by the dominant males within the play but ultimately it is Emilia who breaks down these barriers and refuses to be dictated to any longer whereas Desdemona is unable to plead her case to Othelo when he confronts her in the bedroom despite the fact she is innocent.
Thus we see that though Desdemona was a strong willed woman in the beginning but before the unexpected allegation of her infidelity she remained mild and submissive. It seems she became too shocked to protest. As if she submitted to the cruelty of her fate. On the other hand, Emila at the end break the ice and assert herself though in the beginning we find her to be a weak woman. In short, we can say that Desdemona is the pure virgin and Emilia is the dutiful wife.
FeedBack
Mistletoe
7/8/2008 2:43:07 PM
Thank you for the FR. :o)
figgyjslyme
4/5/2008 10:45:52 AM
Hi Tinku! I'm very happy to be your friend! Thanks for the FR!
Lunalupa
1/13/2008 11:15:37 AM
Answer to your question:
I glorify God.
wierderthanthou
1/12/2008 3:53:00 PM
Thanks, but i've already read it...and the Tora, and the Kaballa, and the writings of confucius, and.....almost every religious and holy text on the planet...comes with the turf of being a Warder
Nusaiba
1/12/2008 10:44:34 AM
Thank you, sir, you seem to have understood my words.
Lunalupa
12/27/2007 9:49:56 PM
I'm glad that you are here on Newblog. I believe that many of the prejudism we may hold drop as we relate to one another as people.
I hope that we can all get to know and understand you and your life better.
flappertball
12/23/2007 9:07:01 PM
Hello, Tinku. I enjoy reading your blogs; I have already learned a little about life in angladesh through them. I left some comments on some of your blogs.
bpasdaddy2
12/19/2007 10:01:23 AM
the original cause of the formation of the universe is unknowable many people believe in a supreme creator (I wish I could). the question of how life arose on earth (which is a little different), can be explained without relying on a creator.
Nusaiba
12/7/2007 4:50:36 AM
Dear sir, thanks for the comment. i understand how hard it is to practice islam in such a controvertial environment. keep recalling the eternal destination. that will give u a reason to live.
bpasdaddy2
11/29/2007 4:23:40 PM
thanks for accepting my friend request - good to see you back here.
Nusaiba
11/24/2007 8:14:48 AM
dear sir,
haven't u written anything about the cyclone sidr?
bpasdaddy2
10/29/2007 3:34:04 PM
tinku - thanks for the comment - how old are your kids? did you grow up in bangladesh?
shawn
9/4/2007 11:44:18 PM
thank you for friend invitation
7/8/2008 2:43:07 PM
Thank you for the FR. :o)
figgyjslyme
4/5/2008 10:45:52 AM
Hi Tinku! I'm very happy to be your friend! Thanks for the FR!
Lunalupa
1/13/2008 11:15:37 AM
Answer to your question:
I glorify God.
wierderthanthou
1/12/2008 3:53:00 PM
Thanks, but i've already read it...and the Tora, and the Kaballa, and the writings of confucius, and.....almost every religious and holy text on the planet...comes with the turf of being a Warder
Nusaiba
1/12/2008 10:44:34 AM
Thank you, sir, you seem to have understood my words.
Lunalupa
12/27/2007 9:49:56 PM
I'm glad that you are here on Newblog. I believe that many of the prejudism we may hold drop as we relate to one another as people.
I hope that we can all get to know and understand you and your life better.
flappertball
12/23/2007 9:07:01 PM
Hello, Tinku. I enjoy reading your blogs; I have already learned a little about life in angladesh through them. I left some comments on some of your blogs.
bpasdaddy2
12/19/2007 10:01:23 AM
the original cause of the formation of the universe is unknowable many people believe in a supreme creator (I wish I could). the question of how life arose on earth (which is a little different), can be explained without relying on a creator.
Nusaiba
12/7/2007 4:50:36 AM
Dear sir, thanks for the comment. i understand how hard it is to practice islam in such a controvertial environment. keep recalling the eternal destination. that will give u a reason to live.
bpasdaddy2
11/29/2007 4:23:40 PM
thanks for accepting my friend request - good to see you back here.
Nusaiba
11/24/2007 8:14:48 AM
dear sir,
haven't u written anything about the cyclone sidr?
bpasdaddy2
10/29/2007 3:34:04 PM
tinku - thanks for the comment - how old are your kids? did you grow up in bangladesh?
shawn
9/4/2007 11:44:18 PM
thank you for friend invitation
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