Thought: Six Hundred and Ten
……………………………………………………
3 January 2015
Some strange questions. Along with my answers. A few that I remembered. Sharing them:
Brother, how did you get admission to IBA,
and also do well in BCS?
By studying.
Well, what would I need to do to break your written exam marks record?
You’d need to get a total of 645.
Brother, what should I wear to the viva?
Green shirt,
yellow pants,
red shoes.
Brother, I don’t feel like studying at all. What can I do?
Tell your parents to get you married. What’s the point!
It’s only for you that anyone studies.
Which company’s pen did you use to write in the exam?
A Bangladeshi company’s.
What color ink pen is best for writing in exams?
White ink.
Which publisher’s guidebooks would be the best?
The market publisher’s.
Brother, you said
you answered in Bengali in the BCS exam. Did you write all subjects in Bengali?
No, I took the English exam in English,
and the math exam in math.
What’s the easiest way to become a BCS cadre on the first try?
Taking the exam well on the first try.
What did you do when you felt sleepy while studying?
I slept.
What did you do when you didn’t feel like studying?
I’d send someone a Facebook text like this.
Tell me the name of a good book
that would help me learn English well.
English dictionary.
Would it be okay to buy the Oxford Dictionary English-to-Bengali?
No, buy the Bengali-to-English one.
How many hours a day did you study? How many hours did you sleep?
I never knew anyone would ask this.
If I had known beforehand,
I would have measured it with a stopwatch.
My girlfriend quite possibly loves another guy too. What should I do?
You should quite possibly love another girl too.
Brother, it’s my girlfriend’s birthday today. Could you write a beautiful message for her? I’ll send it to her.
Give me her number. You don’t need to trouble yourself,
I’ll send it myself.
Why do you selectively like girls’ photos?
Because I like girls,
that’s why.
Brother, why aren’t you getting married?
No one’s marrying me, that’s why.
Well, why don’t you have a girlfriend?
You don’t love me,
that’s why.
Brother, I want to write like you. What should I do?
Use the Avro keyboard.
Do you love someone?
If so, whom?
I do. You.
Brother, I want to speak as beautifully as you do. What should I do?
You need to speak beautifully.
Brother, how can I pull myself away from Facebook?
Turn off your internet connection.
Brother, sometimes I feel like dying. I want to live.
Alright, then live.
Brother, I’d be so happy if you accepted me.
As what?
Brother, why did you come to civil service after studying engineering?
Sorry, friend,
it was a mistake. This mistake won’t happen again.
Why do you leave girls’ friend requests hanging?
They hang there themselves, that’s why.
If I send you math problems sometimes, will you solve them for me?
Not sometimes, please,
send them all the time.
Will you prepare 10-12 sets of model test questions for us,
please?
Brother, isn’t that too few?
Brother, you said you want to be a writer. Will you write a BCS guide for us, please?
Only BCS?
What did bank jobs do wrong?
You’re so busy all day. Could you kindly talk to me for 15 minutes sometimes after 12:00 at night?
I don’t talk to boys that late at night.
Why don’t you answer my calls?
Why should I have to answer your calls?
So many more like this!! The punishment for coming first in BCS. I can’t remember any more right now. Sometimes I think,
let me just abandon everything and become a family man.
6 January 2015
About yesterday’s status.
# I didn’t say anything that curtails women’s freedom in that piece. Why would I? Even if I don’t have as much learning and wisdom as you all, I’ve at least learned this much from watching my mother since childhood:
so much depends on the familial, social, and state freedom of the wife in the family.
# I have spoken of an ugly, troubling problem in our society. If we discussed it openly, everyone would benefit. Some have pointed out that this problem affects not only girls but boys as well. I accept this completely. In the case of girls, however, the manifestation of this problem is both more frequent and more horrifying. In both cases, a child’s healthy psychological and physical development is disrupted. Closing our eyes to this reality will not make the problem vanish.
# I did not say that women working is wrong. I said they should keep their children’s safety in mind. Please don’t accuse me of showing more concern than the mothers themselves. I said that this ugly problem is such that you might not recognize it even when you see it, that it happens beyond your awareness, that the victim often suppresses the very knowledge of what has happened.
# My mother used to teach at a kindergarten school. Why did she teach?
For money?
Yes, that was part of it. But the need wasn’t for money—it was for self-respect. My mother felt awkward always asking my father for money. Don’t think that my father refused to give her money. When we were small, we used to ask our mother for pocket money. Why only when we were small?
As I grew older, I developed a passion for buying books. I would often buy many books at once. For some reason, I felt embarrassed asking my father for money. Mother would give it to me from her own earnings or by asking father herself. Mother still teaches students today. Why does she teach now? Why did mother teach students then?
Mother has taught many for free as well. How accomplished they’ve become! They’re in good positions now. They still remember mother. Mother loves teaching deeply. Mother is alone. I have no sister—we are two brothers. Neither I nor my younger brother has married, so we have no wives either. Whom would mother talk with?
Mother enjoys doing this. Mother’s time doesn’t pass easily,
it didn’t before either. Mother taught students to spend her time beautifully. It keeps her spirits up too. She has less time for idle gossip. The feeling “I am self-reliant” brings joy. Now the question is,
how did mother manage it all?
Through tremendous mental and physical effort. Mother’s world was small, after all! Her desires were few. Husband, children,
family and some books, songs, movies—this was my mother’s
small world.
Her sons’ happiness was her happiness. Before our exams, she would sometimes stop teaching altogether. She would take us to our teachers’ homes. Father was a very shy person. Mother
would speak with all the teachers herself. I doubt she slept even five hours properly each day! If women can be this attentive, where is the problem with their working?
Mother received every kind of support from father in this matter. Just as we call mother “Ma,” we call father “Baba” too. Children don’t belong to the mother alone.
# Some friends have attacked me on a deeply personal level. I say this with all humility: you have entirely missed the thread of my writing. Say I want to speak about a social problem. Very well. How can I speak of it without engaging with the elements of society? I have grappled with these elements out of necessity for my writing. It would have been good if you had discussed the problem itself. Had you spoken of some ways to solve it, everyone would have benefited. Brother, I am a small man. Even if you kick me, I will remain who I am. But if you had kicked at the problem, perhaps the problem would no longer be a problem. Or if it remained, some wisdom might have emerged to reduce its severity. Wouldn’t it? Instead of doing that, what have you done? You have written that BCS cadres like me have no brains in their heads. (Sister, why are you dragging all BCS cadres into this? What have they done? If you must abuse someone, abuse me. Please say that I have no brains in my head.) That educated people like me are of very low character. That I am a loser shit. That I am a goat. That I am unworthy of respect. That my mentality is medieval. That I am a perfect example of sour grapes theory. (Tsk tsk, sister! Did I say anything in my writing that warranted such comments? Your comment has revealed to me the extent of your wisdom.) There’s more. I have presented some of these remarks that can be said in polite society. You haven’t stopped at just this—you’ve rallied everyone around you. If you don’t understand my writing, you should make only one comment about the writing: “Brother, what have you written? I don’t understand. Please explain.” I would be happy, I wouldn’t be hurt, and my respect for you wouldn’t diminish either. What friends have written and sent in my inbox! Let it be, I won’t say more about this. It offends my sensibilities. Besides, my mood hasn’t deteriorated so much that I must bring up those things and ruin my mood all over again.
# For the needs of life, livelihood. This much is right. But let it not be that for the needs of livelihood, life itself is sacrificed. How much is lost in this, isn’t it? Love is lost, happiness is lost, affection is lost. The family could be more beautiful, but it isn’t. Problems that go unspoken and cannot be spoken keep growing. Due to household pressures, women go to work. In this case, the man too must make many concessions. For his sake or his family’s sake, the woman cannot properly attend to the children, isn’t that so? Both father and mother have roles to play in this. Have I said anything in my writing against these sentiments? I don’t think so! Why would I? I too think this way. If you have understood something different, then it is your misunderstanding, or I failed to make myself clear to you. Please forgive me, I am sorry. Well, couldn’t this have been asked of me? Couldn’t my writing have been critiqued? Did you have to hurl those hard stones at me? Why are you all so cruel? From what sense of ego does this violence come?
I am hurt. I will say nothing more. Now there is no time to say anything more. Now I am busy being sad. The business of being sad always keeps one busier.
I am very angry. Yes, this anger of mine runs deep. What should I do, tell me! I am human after all! If I could become a mischievous devil, I would be saved.
Listen, could you share this post on your wall, please?
Until I fell asleep last night, I kept thinking—only today was truly the day. This morning I woke up to find, Ahhh! It’s another day! Still I know,
many won’t read my writing anymore.
(Oh! What pain, what pain!)
They’ll deliberately skip this piece too. Why wouldn’t they?
I scolded them so much yesterday!
What can I do,
tell me! They’ve been scolded! Shouldn’t I scold them?
I did, and I did well!
Thought: Six hundred eleven
……………………………………………………
6 January 2015
Well, I mean,
I’m itching to pick another fight, but I can’t find any issue. What to do, what to do!
I keep thinking and thinking.
How about I throw out another little provocation:
Men dig into women’s past while women dig into men’s present.
Like the issue? So,
Dear ladies and gentlemen,
begin. Why delay when there’s good work to be done?
Remember Sukumar Ray’s
‘Narad Narad’
rhyme?
If you don’t remember, read it again, it’ll do you good. I want a fight, a fight! Fresh hot fights!
What’s life without them! I do government work, it’s so easy to curse me. Guru, let it begin then!
Alas, no worthy opponents have arrived. This servant’s patience is wearing thin. I am very very sorry.
6 January 2015
feeling amused!
Sharing an inbox message.
“When I saw
this headline on bdnews, I was a bit shocked at first, brother……finally you too went from being alive to being dead…..
Later I saw the whole thing and laughed at my own foolishness for a while.”
Aha! Ankita please
say ‘yes’. Please Ankita
……………
so was my ex-gf!!
…………. I was happy too, you fool.
Brother, the way the sisters love you, I fear you might be attacked by miscreants on your wedding day. Such an incident happened recently in some district. So brother, if you marry, maintain secrecy. This is my advice as your younger brother-in-law.
I haven’t married, how did you know??
No brother, you haven’t married. We understand this. If you had married, you would have gone on honeymoon with sister-in-law. You wouldn’t have appeared on Facebook for a month. I mean she wouldn’t have let you come to Facebook. Therefore, if you claim to be married, our sisters won’t be afraid. Get married and post a picture with sister-in-law.
I haven’t gone on honeymoon, how did you figure that out? Can’t one post provocations when living with a wife?
7 January 2015
I’m single, so are my girlfriends!
Some are married but available, some
are single but available!!
did I just speak your mind? Oops!!!
I m a big fan of susant.
Best not to cast your eyes upon the married/committed party, dear fellow!
What need is there to become the cause of another’s sorrow?
abba, married men……got it?
Let all the married, committed
people be happy in their own ways!!!
8 January 2015
Semester finals were underway. Fifth semester, I believe. I finished teaching at my coaching center half an hour early—at 8:30—and went to the Book Garden in Andarkilla. (Why did I let the students go half an hour early? It was a courtesy, or perhaps a consolation. Of what sort? I’ll come to that later.)
I would buy engineering books from there. I often bought books in English Language and Literature that weren’t needed for my honors degree. That day I was going to buy an engineering book. What book, I can’t remember. When I arrived, I saw a new consignment had come in, and everyone was busy. The shop owner was entering book titles. Two shop assistants were calling out book names and shelving them.
How are you doing?
*** Give me that book.
Brother, how are you?
Please sit. Here, bring a cup of tea this way. That book isn’t available right now. Come tomorrow afternoon, you’ll get it.
But brother,
I need it right now.
Won’t it do if you take it tomorrow,
boss?
I have an exam tomorrow morning at 10.
(The shop owner had been keeping his head down, making entries. Hearing my words, he snapped his head up like a spring…..)
What! Exam tomorrow!
Buying books today!
Yes, brother. Please manage it somehow, even if it’s a bit of trouble. I have a lot to study; I’ll have to read all night.
The shop owner sent his worker to hurriedly bring the book from a nearby library. He told me,
“Brother, you go home. Study well.” He thought I was a very good student, and thinking this made me feel somehow embarrassed. Ah!
Such a good man.
I took the book,
would study all night,
came home with this hope filling my chest,
freshened up,
had dinner,
drank two mugs of hot black coffee,
sat down to study,
all the writing in the book and the teacher’s sheets began to look like Greek and Latin, I felt like thinking to myself,
too difficult,
so no point in reading it, I’ll have to try writing by making things up, I even thought this with great satisfaction, convinced myself that the teacher would pass everyone anyway, began to feel drowsy, then,
somehow or other,
I’d get up very early the next morning and start studying, making this solemn vow, I fell asleep.
The next day I woke up at six in the morning. I sat down to study. I couldn’t manage anything. I started flipping through photocopied class lectures from Sohel’s (Abu Sayed Mohammad Khan E Alam) notebook. I began to feel as if I was looking at the most difficult things in the world. I touched the book and silently vowed: no more—from next time I would study extraordinarily well. Coaching was the root of all evil. So I would quit coaching. Then I thought, if I study now, I’ll realize I know nothing at all. This would destroy my confidence. What’s the point! Better to just write whatever comes to mind on the exam paper, making things up as I go.
(Let me mention,
I never copied from anyone during exams. Not out of honesty, but from fear and shame. Desperately poor, I would rather starve than beg. No matter what! The intellectual self-respect of the middle class.) I closed all my books and notebooks and opened Facebook to see what everyone was up to. When it struck 7:30, I had breakfast and set off for CUET.
When I got the question paper, I saw that the professors hadn’t disappointed me. I couldn’t do any of what had come. Nor was I expected to, though I did know the correct Bengali meanings of all the sentences and words. I decided mentally that if I made things up and wrote them down, I wouldn’t get absolute zero. As a science student, I had the right to do this much in an engineering exam! I took the exam with tremendous confidence, making things up, imagining, and when imagination failed, forcing myself to imagine with great effort. Whatever it took, I had to write full answers! I had clearly understood the entire question. My pen didn’t stop. Mixing the sweetness of my mind with whatever came to me and whatever didn’t come to me, I kept writing everything. Once I thought of making up some quotations—what’s the point of leaving the answer sheet empty! Then I thought, no, let it be—quotations in an engineering exam paper would look bad. I recovered much of the exam fee I had paid by taking loose sheets. Those who knew me weren’t particularly surprised.
(They know Sushanto doesn’t study; he only writes and fails.) When I didn’t see them looking at all surprised as I took loose sheets, I thought the questions must have been easy. None of them were taking loose sheets. I took them twice. I was secretly delighted that I had written the most. And needless to say, full answers as always!
Later, after coming out of the exam hall, I learned that the questions had apparently been difficult. Since I knew nothing and understood nothing, I hadn’t even realized the questions were difficult. I wasn’t telling anyone anything, but the troublemakers, to make fun of me, kept prodding and poking until they extracted from me that I had written full answers in that day’s exam. But I didn’t have the courage to tell them which 8 out of 10 options I had answered. I somehow escaped from them. So while everyone was calculating whether they would get passing marks, I was calculating the bill for samosas and onion fritters in the canteen. What’s the point of stressing! I only felt bad for the professor, thinking he would have to read my engineering-literature. I don’t remember feeling ashamed. I shouldn’t have—I was used to this.
The results came out. Sir got his money for marking my trash
(read: exam paper),
yet showed not an ounce of mercy. Even if he’d given me 2-1 marks per page, I would have passed. Alas!
The boy who wrote the most failed. What routinely merciless irony of fate!
Thought: Six hundred twelve
……………………………………………………
8 January 2015
My life’s first crush: Divya Bharti.
1992. I was in class three or four, I think. That year Deewana was released. Shah Rukh Khan’s first released movie. Co-starring Divya Bharti. CDs didn’t exist then. Those were the days of VCP/VCR. At that tender age, how many times I listened to the song “Aisi Deewangi”! Just to watch Divya Bharti. I would go very close to the television and just watch with unblinking eyes. I remember,
even when I needed the bathroom during the song, I would hold it in. Back then my prayer list to God was enormous. Along with
“May I come first in exams,” that list also included Divya Bharti. I would fold my hands and pray
that my wife would look like Divya Bharti.
(I truly wanted this!)
Now I think,
we consider children much safer and of the “understands nothing”
type,
but they’re really not like that at all. If you playfully touch their aunt’s hair in front of them, they’ll definitely tell their mother about it. Sometimes they’ll blackmail you just right to get chocolates and ice cream. They are terrifyingly clever children!
My most favorite food is crush. I eat crush quite often.
My latest crush so far: a young married woman whose name I don’t know.
How did I know she was married?
She wore conch shell bangles on her hands, vermillion on her forehead. This made my regret even deeper. I saw her 2
weeks ago on a US-Bangla Airlines flight to Dhaka. At least five and a half feet tall.
(The fool’s height must be 5’7″, at most. I was missing God terribly at that moment. Actually, Manik is right.)
Elongated eyes, as if saying something constantly. When she
smiled, it struck right in the middle of my chest. Those rosy thin lips don’t just smile, they practically murder you!
The magical movement of smooth fingers like those of Iranian women. The charm of her physical grace was also enchanting; swaying as if! Hair soft and silken like dense silk, gradually concealing her eyes, arousing thirst as it fluttered in the breeze. Her wonderful aura seemed to spread some magical enchantment on her forehead, cheeks, chin, neck……..everywhere. She doesn’t just look,
she plants a dagger;
right in the middle of the chest. Ufff…!!!
What magic!
What enchantment!!
Unbearable!!! As if playing endlessly in my head, endlessly playing………
Lalalalalala ……. Lalalalalala
……. Lalalalalala ……. Lalalalalala
……. Lalalalalala ……. Lalalalalala
……. Laaaaaaa ……. Lalalalalaaaaaa
…….
Goodness! I’ve said quite a lot! Won’t say more. Don’t I feel any shame!
Now it’s your turn. First crush? Last crush? Today’s game is the crush crush game!!
Oh yes!
Let’s also play a little quiz,
how about it? So, let’s do it!
One. ‘Deewana’ wasn’t supposed to be Shah Rukh’s first movie though. Tell me, which one was supposed to be?
Two. The music that was playing in my head—it was from a Hindi movie. Should I say which movie?
Three. The phrase “getting a crush”—where did it come from?
Let me tell you about another crush:
The heroine from “Ballad of a Soldier.” What need does a girl have to be so beautiful? How absurd!!
Don’t people have work to do??
9 January 2015
After listening to this track, I feel like forgiving those friends of mine who copy my writing and pass it off as their own.
Tell me, haven’t you heard some part of this track in one of our songs before? You have, you have. Let’s see,
think and tell me which song?
Those who love instrumentals,
should listen to Silk Road, from which this has been taken. The track is by Kitaro. He’s a pioneer of New Age music. I believe
his creation isn’t his own. This melody comes from some celestial realm. When it touched his body and mind, he merely captured it. I bow to this composer.
I tell you,
you’ll be amazed thinking about how many movies and songs have borrowed that melody,
yet it’s never been acknowledged anywhere. What does the creator lose by this! He is magnificent!
On this holiday, dive into it. After a while, it will feel just like our beloved Rabindranath… I have plunged into the ocean of form / hoping for formless jewels …..
11 January 2015
Details of my next career session:
Date: 14th January (Wednesday)
Time: 3:00 PM to 9:00 PM
Venue: District Shilpakala Academy,
Chittagong
What the session will include:
Motivational session
BCS exam preparation strategies (Preliminary+Written+Viva)
Dhaka University IBA MBA admission exam preparation strategies (Written+Viva)
Q&A session
The chief guest of the career session will be the Vice Chancellor of Premier University, Bangladesh’s renowned sociologist Dr. Anupam Sen.
The session is organized by Rotary Club of Chittagong, Khulshi.
Financial support is provided by Equity Property Management Limited.
Overall coordination is by Additional Commissioner of Income Tax Department Abu Daud Sir (Facebook name Badal Syed).
Assistant Commissioner of Income Tax Department, my younger brother Ayan Sarkar, is helping with coordination activities. You can contact him for any information about the session.
Those of us who will speak with you at the session: Sir. Me. Ayan.
Like all my sessions, there’s no entry fee for that day’s gathering, no need to register—just show up at the time. The session is open to everyone.
Various print and electronic media are supporting the promotion and publicity of this career chat.
(I humbly request everyone to share this post and let everyone know.)
Thought: Six Hundred Thirteen
……………………………………………………
14 January 2015
I’m going to Dhaka tomorrow. For six months. I’ll stay in Savar. PATC training begins from the 18th. Civil servants have to complete this training as one of the conditions for making their jobs permanent. I’ve heard this training is quite torturous! Having to wake up at 5 AM in this winter! Staying busy all day. To me, training means nothing but torture! But I still have to go. There’s no escape. I don’t know how regular I’ll be able to stay on Facebook during this time. We’ll see. Friday and Saturday are holidays. Holidays meaning the kind of freedom where you can do whatever you want (break down; I mean, fall apart piece by piece, whatever you wish) — meaning, no one will call you to the office. Ah! This is peace! I’ll roam around like a spinning wheel on these two days. Whether this training gives me something or not, I want it to at least give me the opportunity to wear my stylish shirts and t-shirts again. I want to be carefree and colorful like before. “I let my younger brother Prashanta wear one of my shirts.” I want this sentence to no longer be in the indirect object case. Enough has happened. Enough is enough! I want to sing at the top of my voice, The belly came only once in life… Seeking everyone’s prayers.
I’ve received quite a few requests about today’s career chat. Such as:
# The preliminary is coming up. Please talk a bit more about the prelims.
# They’ve given the viva date. Please spend more time talking about viva techniques.
# If you don’t talk much about written exam topics, you can talk more about other subjects.
# I have a job, so I might not be able to come at 3 PM. By the time I take leave from office and arrive, it’ll be 4 PM. It would be good if you could kindly start your session after 4 PM.
# I’ve come with great difficulty from Dhaka (or many other places) for today’s program. You don’t even thank those who come from far away with such effort to your career chat. Please give us a thanks.
I say to everyone: So be it!
I’m also saying, you’ve heard enough of my chatter. Today you’ll also hear the life-oriented words of Badal Syed sir. Speaking from our experience with Theatre Institute programs, sir’s words will truly be very useful in life. And I myself am a fan of Ayan’s confident way of speaking! Brother, how do you manage it, man!
Now to the main point. The story goes like this:
This morning when I woke up, I made an epoch-making discovery. My throat is feeling scratchy,
about to break at any moment!
I have a fever too. No matter! I’m gulping down ginger water and getting on with it!
(Quite literally!)
In my mind, I’m trying to draw inspiration from Amitabh Bachchan. With a 103-degree fever,
he shot the song “Khaike Paan Banaraswala” in the movie ‘Don.’ Listen to that song once more!
Can you tell anything’s wrong? You can only notice it slightly during a few dance steps. And that’s probably only because I know about it!
My salute to Amitabh,
the great artist! You have to perform when you are performing.
Friends! See you there,
let’s chat!
At 3 o’clock at Shilpakala Academy.
15 January 2015
A few words:
One. Many of you noticed the news on page 2 of today’s Prothom Alo. For those who didn’t, I’m letting you know that tomorrow’s Prothom Alo job section will carry my article on preparation strategies for the 34th BCS viva examination. You’re invited to read it. Thank you to Sajib bhai of Prothom Alo for helping this piece reach everyone.
Two. At yesterday’s career chat, I myself was quite out of place. Why am I saying this?
What I taught at yesterday’s session
was far less than what I learned myself!
First to speak was my younger brother Ayan, Assistant Commissioner at the Income Tax Department. How
well he speaks!
I was deeply impressed. He handled the difficult responsibility of organizing all the younger brothers and sisters who came from Chittagong University from start to finish beautifully. Thank you, Ayan.
Next came Dr. Moinul Islam Mahmud, Chairman of Equity Property Management Limited. His thoughts about the country were captivating. His analysis of our achievements as a nation and how to progress further was deeply meaningful. I sincerely thank him.
Then took the stage Sufi Mohammad Mizanur Rahman, Founding Chairman of PHP Group. In the time I spent with him, I felt that
if one could learn even the smallest bit from his humility,
knowledge, and conduct, it would be a great gain for anyone. I’ve seen very few people speak to others with such respect. One thing he said in his speech was:
“How big a person becomes depends on how much extra work they can do beyond what’s required.”
Another thing he said was, “A person who doesn’t respect teachers cannot go very far.” These two statements still ring in my ears. He praised my initiative wholeheartedly and blessed me. I often say,
“Praise openly,
listen to praise humbly.” I saw this quality in him too. I learned a great deal from him yesterday. Thank you to him.
Yesterday’s chief guest was Dr. Anupam Sen sir, who is revered by all of us. For many years, he has been guiding people toward the light. Coming on stage with a torch in hand, sir once again illuminated all of us. Sir’s presence honored us all. Thank you to sir for giving us some of his precious time.
Conveying a message through interaction with an audience is no simple task. This difficult work was accomplished with remarkable finesse by Abu Daud Sir, Additional Commissioner of the Income Tax Department, who held everyone spellbound. About his speech, one can only say: “I came, I spoke, I conquered.” Working silently behind the scenes, his role in yesterday’s overall program organization was paramount. The plan to hold the program in the open courtyard outside the Academy of Fine Arts was also his brainchild. This brought two advantages. First, even with 1200+ spectators, there was ample space for everyone to sit or stand comfortably. Second, throughout the entire event, there was an aesthetic ambiance that enchanted us all. Papyrus Event Management demonstrated their expertise in stage design and seating arrangement. Our gratitude to them.
We extend our thanks to our radio partner Radio Today and all other print and electronic media for their proper publicity and coverage of yesterday’s program. Like the past few days, today too many local and national newspapers have covered yesterday’s event, and numerous channels and radio stations have broadcast news of the program. We express our heartfelt gratitude to them.
We offer special thanks to Joint Commissioner Shamina Islam Madam of the Income Tax Department and Rabeya Bhabi, Daud Sir’s wife, for excellently handling the challenging task of hosting the program.
On behalf of everyone, I thank the Abul Khayer Group and Nescafe for taking responsibility for refreshments for all of us who attended the program.
We express our heartfelt gratitude and thanks to Equity Property Management for financing the overall arrangements, including distribution of the program’s content CDs to everyone.
I thank the Rotary Club of Chittagong, Khulshi on behalf of the participants for beautifully organizing yesterday’s career adda. This was my second career adda under Rotary’s auspices. The first was held at the Theatre Institute. Mahfuzul Haque Bhai, President of the Rotary Club of Chittagong, Khulshi and Director of Equity Property Management, informed me that the Rotary Club will now organize this adda nationwide. We express special gratitude and thanks to him for standing by us in such noble work. Thanks also to him and the Rotary Club for yesterday’s dinner.
I salute those ‘unsung heroes’ whose tireless efforts and guidance made yesterday’s career adda successful.
We extend our thanks and gratitude to all the younger brothers and sisters, guardians, friends, well-wishers, and revered elders who came from far and wide.
Due to the scope of yesterday’s program and time constraints, I shortened my session to finish within two and a quarter hours. I hope this did not disrupt the main rhythm of the career adda. (By the way, did anyone catch that I was speaking with a 101-degree fever? If you didn’t notice, the credit goes to Amitabh Bachchan. If you did catch it, the failure is entirely mine.) The question-answer session and photo session were also enjoyable. Everyone surrounded us, many touched our feet in greeting, embraced us; I couldn’t hold back the tears. The darkness of night conceals much, saves us from much. Sometimes one feels a deep urge to love even the darkness.
We express our gratitude and thanks to the Academy of Fine Arts and the District Administration for their overall cooperation in organizing yesterday’s program.
Before my session began, Daud Sir brought my mother onto the stage and introduced her to everyone. The entire audience stood to honor her. When Ma took her seat among the spectators, many came to touch her feet in greeting, seeking her blessings. If someone had asked me,
“What was your greatest achievement at yesterday’s Career Chat?”
I would have said, “Being able to honor my mother.”
Let me end this post about yesterday’s program with words from Daud Sir and Mahfuzul Haque Bhai. At one point during dinner, Daud Sir said,
“Sushanta, keeping 1200 young people engaged for six and a half hours is no simple feat. If we assume even ten percent of those boys smoke,
they sat there for this entire duration without smoking.” Then Mahfuzul Haque Bhai said,
“I’ve only seen a program hold its audience like a magnet in this way at Jafor Iqbal Sir’s events. Brother, these days people don’t even sit through music concerts for this long.”
(I humbly request everyone to share this post with others.)
Reflection: Six hundred fourteen
……………………………………………………
15 January 2015
There’s a little boy hanging off the back of the rickshaw ahead. The tiny fellow is grinning from ear to ear. Looking at him, you’d think the rascal is having the time of his life. That’s not the issue. The problem is, seeing him makes me want to hang off the back of a rickshaw too. I can’t figure out what to do. Tell me,
if I got out of the car now and hung off the back of a rickshaw, would my driver mind?
Or would the rickshaw tip over? I don’t feel like getting cursed out by the rickshaw-puller. Such a mess! Why did I have to grow up?
Go ahead and hang.
I didn’t hang. I rolled down the car window and called out “Hey!” to that monkey of a boy, and the kid stuck his tongue out at me. Got annoyed.
16 January 2015
Career Chat
— It’s free and always will be.
The first two lines are mine,
and I’ve stolen the tagline straight from Facebook!
This morning I spoke with Daud Sir, Additional Commissioner of the Income Tax Department. After attending my Career Chat, listening to our conversations, and witnessing the enthusiasm of the younger generation, PHP Group Chairman Sufi Mizanur Rahman decided on the spot that PHP Group would like to take responsibility for organizing all my future Career Chats. Seeing our courage, strength, and good intentions in the work of inspiring young people’s dreams, he wants these chats to spread everywhere in the country,
even abroad. If needed, we’ll take his helicopter and travel to different corners of the country, peddling dreams among the youth. I believe
if this generation moves forward with dreams, passion,
the right perspective, and the right decisions at the right time,
the country’s progress is inevitable! We want no one to be lost. The Rotary Club will stand by us in all such endeavors.
I dream deeply
that my Career Chat will guide millions of people toward their path. Everyone please pray for me that I may accomplish this.
I will continue working for this society and country with Daud Sir, under his guidance, out of social commitment. I believe from my heart that I am not worthy of what I have received. But then why did I get all this? Let me answer that in a roundabout way. If you deserve 10 takas and Allah gives you 20 takas, surely there must be some divine indication behind it. If you don’t distribute at least 5 takas from that extra 10 among those who are in hardship, then Allah will reward someone else who has the mindset to help others with that extra reward, not you. So, whether anyone stands by me or not, I will continue to chase the wild buffalo of the forest while eating at home! I say again, Career Adda — It’s free and always will be.
To those who wish to stay with me, I request you to just tell me this much: How can I help you? The rest is my responsibility. If you don’t use my Career Adda commercially, then just call me and I will come on my own responsibility.
21 January 2015
This Friday, for the first time, I’m going to visit Jahangirnagar University campus. I’ll roam from morning till evening. Raise your hands if you’re interested in spending the whole day wandering this green campus with me. Those of you who are on the university campus and free that day, can call me at ***** tomorrow afternoon or later to talk. I heard you can get bhuna khichuri and duck meat there? Let’s explore together, eat bhuna khichuri and duck meat in this winter — if needed, you/you all can pay the bill.
23 January 2015
At Jahangirnagar campus . . . . . . Awesome!! I’ll stay till twilight.
If anyone is around here, you can join us. Would be nice. I’m at ****** this number.
25 January 2015
I ate bhuna khichuri with lemon squeezed over vegetables (labra) and soft chomchom mixed with crunchy raw green chilies.
(Saraswati Puja prasad.)
You can try it. Honestly, it tastes amazing! Surely you must have liked my previous 3 recipes. What? You didn’t? You’ll like this one too.
Faith brings taste, argument takes you far astray!
I’ll give details in ‘PATC Diary’. Coming soon……
27 January 2015
“How old is your job?”
I really wanted to say, “Sir, a job is like a woman. It doesn’t listen. Tell it to go east, it goes west; tell it to go north, it goes south. It doesn’t understand what I say, but understands even more what I don’t say. Do something slightly wrong and it sits with puffed cheeks. You have to say ‘yes sir, yes sir’ to both. How much maneuvering it takes to appease them! When you have it, it’s trouble; when you don’t, even more trouble. Sir, you don’t ask a woman’s age.”
Ah! Well then,
so much experience
without even marrying…….good….
Who was it that had to die to write about death, where, when??
6 February 2015
(I was writing ‘PATC Diary’,
when suddenly these thoughts came to mind. I took a little break, that’s all! Writing is such a burden!
Does it hurt so much to cut earth with a spade?
Those who don’t have to write—
lately I feel such a desire to envy them.)
Those who find it difficult to understand the impersonal nature of writing, if they explain it by writing comments, everyone will catch on. Better to
speak understanding the tone of the writing, or if you don’t understand the tone, don’t comment and go away to eat puffed rice with Sprite. Just because I’m of the goat species, why must I write and publish that?
The public has brains, after all!
Thought: Six hundred fifteen
……………………………………………………
7 February 2015
Tomorrow I’ll be at the book fair from 3 PM till evening. If any friends are around that area,
you can call **** this number.
There’s an anthology published at this book fair with many of my writings. The anthology is called Akshara. I’ve written about this book on my wall before. The piece is in one of my Facebook notes. The book is published by Shiri Prokashon,
available at stall number 214. Thanks to the editor Maymuna Lina’s courtesy, I’ve received a copy. I’ve read through the pieces. I liked them. You should read them too,
I hope you’ll like them.
We’ll meet tomorrow, we’ll talk.
11 February 2015
This love I have for flowers,
I learned this from my mother.
This love I have for birds,
I learned this from my mother.
This love I have for trees,
I learned this from my mother.
This love I have for songs,
I learned this from my mother.
This love I have for books,
I learned this from my mother.
This love I have for beauty,
I learned this from my mother.
This love I have for people,
I learned this from my mother.
I’m sharing some pictures of flowers that bloomed in my mother’s garden. I know, nothing extraordinary. But to me they’re infinitely precious. A little while ago my younger brother
Prashanta sent these pictures.
Ma, why are you growing so old?
Why are these wrinkles appearing on your face?
Pappu, your camera hasn’t learned to lie, has it? Ma,
are you really truly growing old?
Ma, are the other flowers in your garden well? Keep them well too,
won’t you? You and Baba stay very well. Then Pappu and I will be well. Tell me Ma,
is Baba growing old too? Ma,
we’re all quite well, aren’t we?
God has kept us very well. What is there for you to worry about?
Now you have only one job: to stay well.
Mother, do you know how beautiful you look when you smile?
Why do our parents grow old before we do?
What if it could be different—what if all of us, all the people we love, could share age among ourselves and grow old together, die at the same time? Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
12 February 2015
Even now, sometimes,
when I log into her profile from another account, something twists inside my chest, a cry rises up, and I keep feeling
that something is missing, something is missing!
For nothing!
Was she ever really there at all?
12 February 2015
This status is for those who read my writing, especially the ‘PTIC Diary’ series.
# Which part of this series, which I write almost daily, do you like most?
# What other sections do you think would be good to add?
# Which parts feel a bit tedious to read, and do you think it would be better if I wrote less about those?
# What kind of changes in language would be good?
Should I write more simply? Or
should I write in a more roundabout way? Or
is it fine as it is?
# Do the various references I give on different topics feel annoying to read, or do they disrupt the flow of thought while reading?
# What other subjects do you think I should include to help you feel the whole atmosphere here more fully?
# I deliberately avoid using people’s names much in my writing. This has sometimes put me in awkward situations in the past. Should I include names?
Or is it fine as it is?
I can’t write very comfortably. I mean,
it’s not that words just flow out when I sit down to write. Each piece takes me a long time, causes me great difficulty. And I can’t write just anything I want. Because
I keep feeling
that many of those who love my writing or love me
wait to read what I write. When someone loves you, you can’t treat them carelessly, can’t give them just anything. I give “whatever I can offer to the divine, I give that same to my beloved…”
I know
many people don’t read this series for two reasons:
One. The daily pressure of work during training leaves very little leisure time. I’ve had to abandon many aspects of my life simply for the necessity of writing this. Writing and reading are like prayer to me. When I engage in this prayer, I even keep my mobile phone at a distance. Since I don’t get enough time, preparing through study and watching movies becomes almost impossible when writing this diary. If I were to write with proper preparation and sufficient time, the little leisure I get here wouldn’t allow me to write so much. The lack of preparation diminishes the quality of writing. This has happened with this diary too. Many who have been reading my work regularly for a long time have told me so. It doesn’t feel good to read, so they don’t read it.
Two. These writings are somewhat long and sometimes become tedious due to near-repetition of the same subjects. Either they don’t have time or don’t feel like it, so they don’t read.
Still I write. Why? For two reasons:
One. Because I enjoy writing. Besides, apart from this one thing, I can’t really do much else.
Two. Some friends read, appreciate, like, comment, share, or do nothing but read and wait for the next piece.
I would be very, very happy to receive my friends’ opinions about the ‘PATC Diary’ or my other writings. Please share your thoughts in the comments or inbox. Write whatever you feel when reading my work. I would truly be delighted.
Well, good question. Many ask whether they can share my writings. I’ve said before, and I’ll say again. You can do whatever you want with any of my writings, except steal them. I mean, it should be clear that the writing is mine, not yours. If someone steals my child, I can’t exactly arrange offerings on a plate and worship them. I’m completely small-minded/possessive about my creations. Sorry. The less wealth one has, the more attached one becomes to one’s possessions. What can I do, tell me! Thank you.
Thought: Six hundred sixteen
……………………………………………………
12 February 2015
Whether anyone gives you flowers or not
Tomorrow is spring
Twelve years ago, my friend Zunaeed probably once wrote and sent on the first day of Phagun,
In the spring breeze
…….. I love! Say it with emotion.
Everything is there, yet
……… why do I feel so alone!
My friend is no longer alone. With him is his fairy-like, adorable daughter. I pray that when she grows up, she becomes more enchanting than even Humayun Ahmed’s heroines.
Friend, I’m telling the truth—when Phagun comes, I remember you.
I’m remembering someone else too. My heart wishes that she stays very well.
I extend spring greetings to Zuckerberg. May the “It’s Free” on Facebook never change. May those whose days still revolve around Facebook remain well without paying a penny.
For so long now, Rabindranath has been echoing in my head……. “Let those who are happy remain happy”……
May no couple in this world ever part.
May the flower business flourish. May the tissue business decline.
May beautiful processions of words come from Facebook statuses into real life.
Yesterday I wanted to go to Dhaka. I won’t go. Going to campus on Pohela Fagun makes me melancholy. These days I don’t like to stay melancholy anymore. I can’t be a hypocrite. I can’t keep my heart heavy and still flash a smile.
I’ll go the day after tomorrow. Go, meaning I’ll have to go. Final presentation for MBA at IBA. After the presentation, I’ll wander around the book fair. They’ll take love. I’ll take books, take my degree. They’ll get one thing, I’ll get two. From that day forward, I’ll become: Sushanta Paul, BSc in CSE (CUET), MBA in Finance (IBA, DU)
There could have been another: MDS (DU)…….. didn’t happen, I dropped it. Why? Simply out of whim. Sometimes I think, in this short life, I’ve played too many games with this life of mine.
Well, wasn’t it this very absent-minded madman who once decided not to complete honors? Wasn’t he supposed to become a shopkeeper with just an intermediate pass? Ma, are you listening? Baba, won’t you come and see for a moment? I made you cry so much, didn’t I? Pappu, didn’t people used to say things to you? That your brother would remain uneducated all his life? Where are they now?
13 February 2015
Tomorrow’s presentation at IBA is at 11 AM. The last presentation of my master’s. I haven’t even started preparing it yet. My old habit, the eleventh-hour syndrome.
This afternoon I put detergent on a bucket of clothes. I don’t feel like washing them. But I have to wash them before sleeping. Tomorrow morning’s PT dress is also in there. If I don’t wash it tonight, it won’t dry. I’ll leave at 8 AM tomorrow. Won’t be able to wash it tomorrow either.
Mosquitoes are biting. I don’t feel like getting up to light a coil. Let them bite.
I’m hungry. There’s an apple right in front of me. I feel too lazy to eat even that.
Tomorrow I have so much to do. Have to give the presentation, have to roam the book fair, and what else I need to do…….. I can’t remember. Don’t feel like remembering either.
Right now I have so much work. I didn’t do any actual work all day. So, what did I do all day today? Got up in the morning and looked at flowers, looked at trees, saw some birds, looked at the lake, came to my room and fell asleep. Slept all day. My eyes are swollen from sleeping so much. Today’s greatest achievement: touching and examining the morning dew gathered on rose petals.
I’m sitting at my laptop with a head full of work weighing me down. What am I doing as I sit here?
All the women in the world have posted pictures for Pohela Boishakh. I’m looking at the pictures. Not giving many likes though. If I do, they might realize I’m secretly looking at their photos! So I’m not giving that many. Women look absolutely gorgeous in sarees!
I feel like falling in love with some of them. Wait, this isn’t love, is it? This is just attraction.
I’m listening to old Bengali songs. The music feels wonderful with a mischievous smile. My heart wants to love these songs more and more. I want to love those who wrote them,
composed the melodies,
sang them. I want to forgive everyone in the world, even those who hurt me and live happily. I even want to love the gecko in the corner of the ceiling. Wait, was its call always this beautiful?
What do I do when I sit with a head full of work?
My mind goes blank. I stare into such emptiness that anyone watching would think I’m deep in thought. Actually, I’m thinking nothing at all. I sit for hours without doing any of what needs to be done. I do other things instead. Everything else in the world starts seeming necessary. This way, evening arrives. Knowing I won’t be able to do the work when I wake up, I fall asleep chanting ‘all is well.’
Who else can provide such peaceful sleep with a head full of work weighing me down?
Ugh! I won’t write anymore. I need to light the mosquito coil. These damn mosquitoes don’t understand love either! They’re as clueless as old girlfriends!!
………… Brother,
seeing your comment made me read this carelessly written status once more. I’m feeling good about my own writing again. Thank you.
14 February 2015
The most irresistible drug in the world: books
At the book fair, the backpack’s weight makes my back stoop, the bags laden with books drain the last strength from both hands,
pink hues become clearly visible on fair palms. Yet this addiction to books can only be cured by more books. The pain of carrying books dies only in more books. Even while bearing the tremendous agony of this weight of books throughout the body, I can cheerfully say hello to acquaintances met while wandering the fair. Carrying book loads heavy as stone, I can swim from stall to stall through books for hours. I buy books like a madman, arrange them like a fool. The frustration of not being able to buy a single book despite having the means equals several deaths. This touch of books carries such intoxicating magic. There are three scents in the world that are alike: the scent of a beloved’s hair,
the scent of flower petals, and the scent of book pages. All three awaken unabashed intoxication.
Today’s book fair had fewer crowds. This shouldn’t have happened on a day like today. Has love suddenly diminished? Or have breakups increased? Or both?
Alas! On Valentine’s Day, love didn’t increase,
dust did. I could feed Laboni, Shifat, and Pappu nothing but dust. Women can also tolerate this extremely irritating book-browsing and chat while wandering!
Thank you for putting up with me.
On today’s Valentine’s Day, instead of selling my heart, I’m returning to PATC having sold my lungs.
15 February 2015
A weary traveler, exhausted from walking, knocked on a house door seeking shelter for the night. The master of the house opened the door and politely said, “I have a marriageable daughter in my house. Please try another house.” The next two houses gave similar responses. The tired traveler thought, it isn’t right to keep disturbing people by knocking on their doors like this. Besides, he himself was getting embarrassed by repeated rejections. Better to think of another approach. At the fourth house, he knocked and asked the master, “Sir, do you have a marriageable daughter in your house?”
The master asked in surprise, “Why?”
The traveler’s quick reply: “I want to stay the night, that’s why.”
In today’s class, our professor told this joke while teaching about communication problems. I’d heard or seen this joke before. Wait, isn’t there a part of this joke in one of Dildar’s movies? I can’t quite remember. If anyone knows, please tell me?
15 February 2015
Beehive on the right. Careful! Don’t throw stones.
This notice was pasted on a pillar right beside the mango grove on the way to the dormitory. After reading it, I went down into the mango grove on the right and searched for a long time “to avoid throwing stones,” but couldn’t find any beehive.
16 February 2015
Announcement! Announcement!! The mystery of the ‘stone-throwing at beehive’ solved! The mystery of the ‘stone-throwing at beehive’ solved!!
Yesterday I had written,
“Beehive on the right. Careful! Don’t throw stones.
This notice was pasted on a pillar right beside the mango grove on the way to the dormitory. After reading it, I went down into the mango grove on the right and searched for a long time ‘to avoid throwing stones,’ but couldn’t find any beehive.”
Today, PATIC’s special detective team’s evening lightning operation has revealed that there actually is no beehive in the mango grove on the right side of that pillar. The real story is this: directly opposite that pillar, meaning on the left side of that spot in the corridor, beside the jujube grove, lies the ladies’ dormitory, and this special misleading warning was placed so that we Romeo-types wouldn’t “look up” in that direction.
The nation wants to know: did we want this foolish PATIC?
19 February 2015
Blessed rain-kissed Falgun morning
The day begins touched by sulking rain
20 February 2015
Cadres don’t make people great; people make cadres great.
Cadres don’t diminish people; people diminish cadres.
Always beware of the people whom you can judge only by what they do, not by what they are as well. Judging someone by their job is one of the worst forms of judgement.
But in our society, everyone does exactly that.
What’s the harm in not counting those who carry such attitudes?
Not everyone is needed for life’s journey. Let them be as they are, they have arranged themselves in their own way . . . . . . . Deciding whom not to
make friendship with is more important than deciding whom to make friendship
with.
20 February 2015
On the way to Baliati Zamindar House . . . . . . .
When some one searches for his vital thing, therefore
he/she wishes to be available that in detail, so that thing is maintained over here.