Reflection: Two Hundred Seventy-Four.
……………………………………..
The very thought that I know you
brings me such joy. My best wishes to you.
I’ve been thinking for quite some time now that I should text you,
for some reason I feel like sharing so many things with you. It seems to me
that all my unspoken words could easily be said to you. You feel so much like family, I want so much to trust you. You’re probably thinking, who am I really?
I don’t seem like anyone familiar!………Hmm,
you’ve guessed correctly.
I am a stranger, someone who isn’t friends with you on Facebook, who doesn’t comment on any of your posts. Sagnik, you are greater than me in both intellect and age, yet still I don’t call you sir or elder brother. Because we don’t address God with titles either. That’s what Sagnik is to me. My speaking with you is rather like confessing to God in the middle of the night. Enough introduction, now let me come to the main point.
What began as friendship transformed into love after 5 years. The drama called love continued for another 6 years;
in between, many joyful memories were created, many painful ones too,
sometimes it even descended into fights or physical altercations,
yet the love remained somewhere. When the relationship—friendship and love combined—reached 11 years,
that’s when the boy suddenly began to change. He started getting badly entangled in one girl-related complication after another. When I caught him at it,
he would cleverly hide the whole affair. I would think, perhaps I was just misunderstanding. It went on like this. After some time, the same thing happened again,
after I caught him I met with that girl named Sadma. Hearing everything, I understood
the girl wasn’t at fault,
my virtuous man was continuously trying to win her over. Deeply hurt, I wanted to walk away.
Oh my! He came back pleading and begging, admitting all his mistakes and brought me back! And……..I melted too. Women do melt!
Even ice takes longer to melt!
Love was flowing again, when suddenly I discovered his duplicity once more. I grew suspicious. Hmm,
exactly that! Again that Sadma affair was going on, he was desperate to get that girl, this time I became determined,
no more with him. Let him be happy in his own way,
I only requested that he not maintain any contact with me.
But exactly every two days he would contact me. I would feel hurt,
I felt so small, you know!
Today I spoke with Sadma, I learned
that he texts that girl constantly from 15 different numbers, calls her! The girl is thoroughly annoyed and tells me these things!
I am stunned,
what should I say,
what should I think,
I cannot understand. He tells Sadma and my friend Kankan
that I am supposedly psycho, that I’ve supposedly gone mad.
Today I had my final conversation with him,
today he
admitted
that he never really loved me, that he had only come out of pity. Hearing this, I couldn’t say anything. I only stared at him.
I have walked away from her presence forever. Whatever else may happen, I do not want to live on anyone’s pity. I owe her much gratitude—today, after eleven long years, she finally acknowledged the ultimate truth. For this alone, I have forgiven her. May she be well………tremendously well.
Sagnik, when I came home, I felt I should suffocate myself to death. I even tried. Suddenly it occurred to me that I should tell someone these things, that I should confess, and so I sat down to write to you. I feel terribly suffocated. A hundred million hands are emerging from the walls of my mind, these hands are gripping my throat, I want to breathe but I cannot, my throat simply keeps going dry. Today I remember father intensely. If father were alive, I would have told him, asked him to hold me tight with his strong hands. Mother and I share very little intimacy, mother remains far from me. Yet today I feel, if only I could embrace mother a little, if only I could cry freely! There is no greater suffering in this world than not having someone to hold close and cry with. When people become helpless, they only seek shelter. Sagnik, I am very afraid, you know………the entire world seems dark, I feel as though I cannot see anything, or perhaps in a moment I will not be able to see anything at all. Tell me, will I survive? I desperately want to live…….desperately! Desperately!
Tell me, will you read this writing of mine? Will you see it at all? When you do see it, will I still be alive?
I could not sleep at night. Toward dawn, there was something like a brief doze. I kept vigil over myself all night. Staying awake from the fear of death. Standing guard so that I might remain alive. When I woke in the morning, I felt that I was successful, how marvelously I am alive! This itself is quite something for me!
After finishing the routine morning tasks, I leave for the office. I never turn on the PC so early at home, but how strange—today I went online and found your text. You had written! Reading it, I was amazed to think that even gods know how to reply! Sagnik, Atreyee is grateful to you. “Get a life! Don’t waste your time anymore on the wrong person! OK? If I had you in front of me right now…………” These words are ringing in my head. They will keep ringing. For how long, I don’t know. But for quite a while, certainly! Good thing you didn’t say what you would have done if you had me in front of you! Well, what would you have done anyway! Given me a good slap in mock anger, isn’t that right? I spent quite some time thinking about this incomplete line……didn’t mind it at all! How are you? Very well, very badly, or so-so? I’ve heard that God often remains just so-so. How many people torment the poor fellow for how many silly reasons, tell me!
Would you have picked me up and slammed me down? Hahaha………the very thought brings me joy. You have never seen me, after all, so……the laughter probably won’t stop! You’ve given me today’s finest entertainment!
Sagnik, when my heart grows heavy with sorrow, I don’t know why, but I remember you most vividly. How are you? You know,
today we spoke for quite a long time,
and I learned so much.
When you were talking with me,
I was watching you, mesmerized. Again and again I kept thinking,
I had never really seen you like this before. Do we ever truly see the people we love?
You are so very good,
different, the most beautiful exception……….are you getting angry?
Oh, you fool,
none of this is real,
these are made-up stories. All of this is just my imagination. A mere sliver of my madness!
You see, when nothing feels right,
I retreat into such strange fantasies and see myself in my own mirror. As long as I think these thoughts, time passes in a kind of trance. Will I ever be normal again?
I am so very, very afraid.
Thought: Two hundred seventy-five.
……………………………………..
What I’m about to say now has never been told to anyone except those closest to me. I don’t understand how I can write it all down. This causes me some anxiety too.
I was an excellent student from childhood, so I never existed in any world beyond studies. After taking my SSC exams, I went to visit my grandfather’s house,
where I met a boy who was a distant brother-in-law of my cousin. I only got to see him up close and spend some time with him. Then I returned home and my SSC
results came out. Unexpectedly, I didn’t get the so-called GPA five,
but scored slightly lower.
My parents were so angry they didn’t speak to me for two weeks. I thought to myself, I won’t cause my parents any more pain, I’m not cut out for studies anymore. So I called that young man and said, Brother,
please take me with you,
I won’t study anymore………He agreed to come, and a few days later he did come,
and I went away with him. I didn’t know then that
going with him meant I would have to marry him and build a life together!
It was an accident! And my husband was also very young then,
he had just taken his HSC exams. To describe him,
he was just an ordinary village boy. Only recently he completed his honors degree from National University, now he has a job at BARI,
though the position isn’t permanent. I could never call him bad, because his knowledge is so limited. He doesn’t understand well how to do things, when, why. In short,
the intellectual gap between us is vast as the sky and earth.
And while living at their house, within a year I had a daughter. My father’s family is much more established than theirs. So they could never accept this marriage of ours. But now, seeing no other option, my parents maintain relations somewhat! I come to my father’s house and start studying again.
I got into Dhaka University,
completed my MA with excellent results, maintaining a merit position throughout. Now I have only one target,
and that is to take care of my family. For that, I need a good job.
My life with her has been nothing but compromise for over ten years now. When I look at our child, I feel
I could never even think of doing anything else!
Yet sometimes I fall into deep despair,
feel tremendous anguish. But everyone knows
I’m doing very well,
getting along just fine. Sometimes merely surviving becomes difficult for me.
I have struggled so hard to reach this point today. If I want to live beautifully, I must secure a good job! I understand this. But how do I rid myself of the problems that have bound me hand and foot?
I never let anyone understand how much suffering I live through! I’m a very friendly girl,
so I have many friends. I laugh a lot. Everyone knows me differently. When someone feels down, when someone can’t make a decision about something, I counsel them. To everyone, I’m a cheerful,
sorrowless person. Only I know what I’m going through in life! I often listen to Ayub Bachchu’s song:
Forever sorrowful in their own world,
truly no one is happy………
Reflection: Two hundred seventy-six.
……………………………………..
One.
I’ve asked this question
to many people,
gotten more or less the same answer………All my dreams of becoming a BCS cadre end here!………My parents worked so hard to put me through private education, I thought
even if I couldn’t fulfill their dreams in the admission test, I’d try my utmost to fulfill their dream through the BCS exam. But what was meant to happen became something else entirely………A 7-year relationship turned into a lie! The girl meant nothing to the boy. The boy got married on March 11, 2016.
How cruel fate is! The girl is no longer surprised by anything now. She keeps feeling,
somehow, that anything is possible for humans! Despite
7 years together, she couldn’t become that man’s life partner simply because her physical beauty was lacking and her social position wasn’t strong enough, yet someone who met him for a single day achieved the qualification to be his lifelong companion merely through the power of Facebook!
I just watched silently. Never asked him a single question. I continue living as a silent observer. My exam is on March 20,
but I can’t study anything,
I’ve forgotten everything I studied before!
I can’t get him out of my head for even a moment. I don’t know how I’ll find release from this torment! I can’t take it anymore! I could never explain in writing what I’m going through. Often it happens that I feel no interest in anything at all.
How foolish I was! I believed every single word of his!
I loved him like a madwoman! I valued him more than my own life. I have an exam the day after tomorrow, yet I can’t study anything. I’m in such pain, I feel like crying. I want to hold my mother close and ask for her forgiveness. It feels like if I could just embrace my mother and cry, all the sins of the past would be wiped clean, and I’d feel a little lighter. But I can never do that. Because my mother is already so anxious about us. I’m afraid to share my troubles with anyone. For some reason I feel—what if someone shows me pity! Even many of my friends don’t know about my situation. I can’t forgive myself. All I think is, how much I deceived my family!
Today I took my exam. Even in the exam hall, he seemed trapped inside my head!
Sometimes I feel like I’m going insane! Seven whole years! How many of life’s disappointments I accepted just for his happiness. How many of my own desires I forgot just because he didn’t like them! The last time we spoke was February 15th. I’ll never be able to talk to him again—accepting this is so painful!
Yet I must accept it. Life doesn’t stand still for anyone!
In life, everything can be adjusted to!
Two.
Let me say first, all the blame is mine. In 2008, following my father’s wishes, I got admitted to the Genetic Engineering and Biotechnology department at Chittagong University. Somehow I fell in love with a girl! I came first in my first year. From then on I became serious about love. You could call it a kind of infatuation. At one point, love became more important to me than studies. Because the teachers would encourage us so much and paint such dreams of going abroad that I began to feel—with good results and publications, going abroad would be no trouble at all for me! But reality proved the opposite. When I graduated with my bachelor’s, my girlfriend said, come on, let’s get married. You talk to your family. At that time both my mother and sister were unwell. In that situation, there wasn’t an atmosphere at home to discuss marriage.
I asked her for a year and a half, and told her I’d figure something out by then. I tried for many scholarships, didn’t get a single one. The problem was my IELTS score. I’m weak in English. I never had any inclination toward BCS or government jobs. Because it’s simply impossible for me to memorize general knowledge, Bengali, and all that! Seeing that I wasn’t getting scholarships, I leaned toward taking the BCS exam. But due to mental pressure, that didn’t work out either. The pressure being that out of my promised year and a half, only three months remained. During this time I gradually started being dishonest with my beloved, because she thought I wouldn’t marry her, and all my efforts were just excuses. Hearing the word ‘dishonest’ from her lips struck at my self-respect. I was forced to turn toward private jobs. After much effort, within a year I got a job as a microbiologist at a pharmaceutical company. My girlfriend was so happy!
My family—my mother, father, everyone—knew about my relationship. They never even spoke about it.
Whatever the case,
I was hit hard the moment I entered the job. The work pressure was tremendous, and my senior microbiologist feared me. He believed that because of me, both his job and popularity would be threatened! He began working actively to push me out,
and I, in my desperation to save my job, did something I had never done in my entire life—I started playing politics, dirty office politics. Carrying tales from one person to another, and so much more!
Meanwhile, my girlfriend couldn’t convince her family. In the midst of all this, she cleared her BCS exam,
and her father readily agreed to the marriage on his own. Both our families sat together. She told me, after you marry me, you can build whatever career you want,
do as you please, just marry me first, please. I tried to explain to her that the job I was doing had no good future. There were many problems at the office. Seeing me so troubled, she said, quit this job and do something else. I said,
what if your family objects? Besides, I have no savings. If I marry without money, we’ll be in trouble. She said,
don’t worry about it, I’ll support you. Around this time, she informed me that her posting might be on the other side of Dhaka. I asked, why? What’s the problem if it’s in Cumilla?
She replied,
no, you’ll quit your job and come live with me in Dhaka. A few months later the gazette was published, and I told her, all right,
let me quit the job now.
Look, the entire scenario had completely changed!
She told me, do one thing, quit the job,
but don’t come to Dhaka right now,
stay in Cumilla. After some more conversation with her, I realized
she was actually saying these things because she wanted to stay with her family in Dhaka. I was furious! But there was nothing I could do. When a wife has a bigger job than her husband and tries to dominate him,
the husband becomes utterly helpless.
Whatever the case,
we got married. After the wedding, my parents began to misunderstand me. They started thinking
their son had become a stranger. After marriage, I had only visited my in-laws’ house two or three times. Just because of this, my mother said one day,
you’re no longer our son, you’ve become theirs. Hearing my mother’s words, I was astonished! I had to hear many more such things that had never even crossed my imagination. Meanwhile, my wife also pays me no attention. When I call, she shows how busy she is. Sometimes,
we don’t even speak for two days. When I get angry, she says,
I’m not unemployed like you, I fulfill government responsibilities,
I have to stay busy with various important tasks. Yet,
I’m actually not unemployed either—I give three private tuitions. During this time of mental anguish, my family isn’t beside me either. They say, you got married,
you’re doing well on your own. We never even get to see your wife.
I’m growing more alone by the day. Sometimes the pain swells so much I feel like ending my life. With great effort I pull myself together again. After leaving my job, I filled out the BCS exam form but didn’t go to take the test. Because when my mind is heavy, I have no desire to study. I have no preparation at all. From morning to evening, I wander outside. I come home and fall asleep. I have no money saved. My wife couldn’t care less about my condition. She thinks I’ll never amount to anything. Whatever comes to her mind, she says right to my face. I try to convince her that perhaps I should go abroad, try to do something there. But she doesn’t like the idea of my going away. I feel like a live-in son-in-law in my own home. Life has become the life of a pet parrot!
Thought: Two hundred seventy-seven.
……………………………………..
One.
Friend, I’m coming home today.
So! Who gives a damn!
I’ll stay a few days.
So, what were we supposed to do?
It’s been ages since I came to Chittagong.
God! Really? You’re going to save the people of Chittagong then! What will happen now?
Why are you doing this?
Why? Gotten too big for your britches? Can’t say anything to you?
Maybe I have. Any problem?
Good God! Brother!!
I’m coming to Mom’s. I won’t leave the house this time! I’ll eat, sleep, and watch movies! Get lost, you bastard!
If you don’t come out, we’ll die! God help us!
You’re all bastards! I’m not talking to you.
No need to talk, just eat the feast. You celebrity brat, we’re slaughtering a goat, come to the house.
Your sister-in-law coming?
Hey bastard! What do you need my sister-in-law for?
We’re siblings, you know?
From which lifetime?
From lifetimes upon lifetimes!
I declare you unwelcome within the boundaries of my home.
After the sacrifice?
For life.
Why would your sister-in-law stay at your house for life? What’s the story?
Shut up, bastard!
Why? Does it sting?
Listen here, you foolish boy! Did the government allocate that cart to you so you could sit upon it and take morning selfies? Have you come here with the sole intention of squandering public resources? Who ever found the gates of heaven by sipping on Facebook likes? Your appearance may be unsightly—that is merely an inscrutable sign from the Almighty. But do you have the slightest right to repeatedly present it before the peace-loving citizens of Facebook, spreading terror and disturbing their blissful slumber? Just because you’ve become a BCS cadre, have you purchased all seven islands of this earth, the fourteen worlds across land and sea? Immediately abandon this pointless time-wasting narcissism and focus on your work. Do not provoke others’ envy. Live in peace, and let others live in peace.
Two.
Ocean…
What? Are you surprised that I’m calling you Ocean? I’ve been thinking of calling you by this name for a long time now. You know, that name everyone knows you by—I don’t like calling you that at all. There’s something so… public about it. It feels like it belongs to everyone! But when I call you Ocean, there will be something intimately personal about it, this call mixed with reverence and love will be mine alone. Do you understand?
I know you’re very angry with me. What can I do—I’m not like everyone else. You grew up receiving everyone’s love; I didn’t grow up that way. I’m so afraid of this word “love”! It feels like it’s there in front of me, but the moment I try to grasp it, it will disappear. You know, I can accept any situation very easily, no matter how painful it might be! I don’t know if this is a virtue of mine or not. The most precious person in my life, the one for whom I’ve perhaps been able to come this far, often says… you can never be happy through arrangement, no one can be happy that way; those who are happy, they simply are. Being sad and being happy—both are human habits. That’s why I’ve never busied myself with arrangements to make myself happy.
Oh, I’ve been chattering away! Do you know why I felt like writing to you today? Last night I had a dream. Such a beautiful dream. I’m embarrassed to tell you… but I’ll tell you anyway.
I dreamed I was terribly angry. To calm my anger, you brought me a gift. I unwrapped it to find a sari—a bright red sari. Suddenly my anger subsided, and I felt such joy. Then it occurred to me: why did you buy a red sari when you prefer blue! When I asked you this, you told me that since I love red, you brought me a red sari. Then do you know what else you said? You said I should wear this sari with shell bangles, vermillion, and anklets, and wander around the house while you just watched me. Oh, how shy I felt, tears came to my eyes. I had never felt myself so happy before. It felt like the most beautiful and precious moment of my life.
That’s when the dream broke! I felt such sorrow, you know? Why was this only a dream, and if it was only going to be a dream, why did I dream such a dream at all? I’m terribly angry, you know?
I’ve been restless since morning,
you know? Who knows what I’ve ended up writing!
Tell me, does this seem like a love letter to you?
Oh my! What have I done!
I’ve written a love letter!
I’m terribly embarrassed!
I know,
you’re laughing!
I’m telling you not to laugh at all! What are you thinking, tell me?
Who I am,
are you thinking about that?
I won’t tell you that!
Try to figure it out if you can. And be careful………stay well.
Reflection: Two hundred seventy-eight.
……………………………………..
A person with a house full of books—this is quite enough to drive a bookworm like me out of my mind. On top of that, good-looking,
and beyond that brilliant, with a great sense of humor too. If you weren’t a follower of the eternal faith, I would have eloped with you,
you’ve escaped by sheer luck! Don’t make a status update about this!
Who was it that invited you to a wedding feast? Go enjoy that wedding, sir!
Invite me to your own wedding,
I’ve never been to Khulna.
Humayun Ahmed’s
‘Kobi’ must be read with a raging fever. When you have a fever of one hundred and four or five degrees and everything around becomes hazy like a dream, that’s the perfect time to read
‘Kobi’. You must finish the book slowly, taking plenty of time. For those deep nights when sleep won’t come without reason, save ‘Megh Boleche Jabo Jabo’; for lazy afternoons,
‘Modhyahno’ or ‘Andhokarer Gaan’; and for moonlit nights, ‘Tomakei’.
How are you?
You asked about Humayun Ahmed’s books in your post,
so I told you. My name is Indu, I study at BRAC University, in BBA. If I’m bothering you, I am not sorry. Without knowing you at all,
not knowing who you are,
I’ve become a fan,
for one reason only: your house full of books. I had assumed that among so many messages mine wouldn’t even catch your eye, so I was writing quite freely. Seeing your reply, I feel uneasy! I’m in an awkward state, rather like being caught red-handed sneaking chocolate as a child!
You write quite well!
There was a small mistake. I mean,
not quite well,
well.
Good afternoon. Or is it morning?
I thought boys didn’t like watching soft movies! I never imagined any boy would want to cry watching a movie!
I have a friend,
the only girl I know who watches tons of World War movies and is head over heels in love with Hitler!
You’re like that girl,
I mean, opposite in nature!
You guys are truly unpredictable! Is it raining
there?
On rainy days one must watch romantic movies and cry, like
Roman Holiday, or Daisy.
I’m not bothering you, am I?
I mean, it’s not right to interrupt among all the important messages!
I saw the post. Ugh! This won’t do! Just “Mom, Mom!”
Mom’s not on Facebook,
doesn’t have her own account,
wife doesn’t have one either!
You’ll have to tell the mothers offline, offline. Your luck is truly rotten! If I were in your gang, I’d have found a girl for you ages ago! Your juniors are absolutely useless!
Just “Brother,
Brother” they say, and then search for Cleopatra. Listen,
if you keep searching this long, by the time you find her, that milk-drinking baby moon will have become an old crone spinning her wheel!
These boys understand nothing!
Or do they go looking for sister-in-law and end up finding wives for themselves? You absolutely cannot rely on others in these matters!
Haven’t you heard what The Great Khan said?
He said, you must beat your own drum yourself—give it to someone else and they’ll either make it disappear or burst it!
Do you understand anything?
I’m telling you, once time passes, there’ll be no salvation!
Is there a shortage of girls in Khulna? Even your followers, I see, are each one crazy to that degree,
I mean for you!
At least like one of them!
I’ve given you plenty of wisdom. I stay well by default,
so I go around giving everyone advice on staying well. Seeing your sorrow late at night made me feel rather bad, actually.
There’s a certain type of girl—
Humayun Ahmed used to call them
‘Mayaboti.’
You might look for one. Once you find her, your whole life will pass filled with tenderness!
Most people’s lives pass searching for love, but the fortunate spend their lives loving and being loved by those close to them! May the company of loved ones surround you forever, may unbearable joy overflow in the courtyard of your heart. Even if you live another hundred years,
may life still seem colorful then. Happy living……happy birthday………
Thought: Two hundred and eighty-nine.
……………………………………..
Today various questions are peeking into my mind! For some reason everything feels very unfamiliar. From childhood I’ve seen life as extraordinary within the very ordinary. I’ve been touched by many experiences. I grew up terribly alone. In childhood, my only friend was my mother. I lived in my own world. I was spirited in sports and games. Along with that was the effort to recite poetry. Fourteen years of life passed in solitude. Hmm, I have no siblings either. When I became acquainted with this world,
everything became even more unfamiliar. Then even my close friend was distant from me. Whenever I extend the hand of friendship, somehow the natural relationship no longer remains. The capital of my life consists of honesty and self-respect. I move forward relying on these. From what I’ve seen of you,
it seemed your capacity to understand people is infinite. I had wished to have you as a good friend. I don’t know if that will ever come to pass.
If what you said is true,
then I need to know from you,
why did you get such an impression seeing me?
Is there some fault in me? The way people approach me—
I don’t do anything that would warrant such behavior!
Then why?
Why does this keep happening in my life?
Even in trying to speak, much remained unsaid. Today a wise person like you can help me by answering some long-unknown questions. Friend,
I keep looking toward you in hope that you might extend your hand toward me,
in that hope……..
Why aren’t you answering my phone?
I say again, I have told you no lies. I am both emotional and
practical. I would never have dared to contact you,
but from various angles it seemed to me that God had given me the opportunity to speak with you. Even after the way you mistreated me today, I still say that somehow or other I will reconnect with you. After that connection, you will distance yourself from me. They say,
revenge is a dish best served cold! The same will happen with you. You’ll see later.
Excuse me,
sir! Most probably I can’t get the right point. Actually, based on what little idea I could gather from your Facebook profile, I tried to think practically. But perhaps I didn’t understand the matter properly, so I appeared foolish to you! As I said,
I respect your wish of being a ‘merchant of dreams,’ and I hope
you can understand, I am a well-wisher to you!
In my BBA, my CGPA was 3.84; in the eighth semester my result was between 3.6
and 4. You can understand I’m not someone who stresses about results. I stay attentive in class and before exams, I study as much as I feel like studying, then take the exam. Reading is something I enjoy, but taking exams is quite tiresome. Now the thing is, without a minimum result, one faces various unpleasant questions. So I’m in favor of good results. Besides, not everyone can handle the shock of poor results. What’s the need
for taking such risks?
I’m not as simple a person as you, so I fall into terrible doubt over life’s various small matters, and then I don’t feel like taking exams. They say a woman’s birth isn’t fulfilled unless it’s full of cunning and artifice! So to fulfill myself, I remain immersed in such deceptions! Hahahaha………
Even when trying to understand the simplest words, I unnecessarily complicate things! Sometimes even the most straightforward talk leaves me somehow bewildered,
and I start feeling that
I need to be born again and journey from childhood to adulthood with a very simple mind! Your behavior is meaningless and simple. Meaningless simplicity is better than meaningful complexity! No matter how convoluted or circuitous my thoughts become,
I want no one to take my ideas the wrong way. I want to live with someone with whom I can speak without thinking so much. To me, the twists of my mind are more precious than the complications of the earthly world. Love is blind and true……also, uncivilized. As in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, “Journeys end in lovers meeting,/
Every wise man’s son doth know.” Similarly
I feel that my journey will continue until I meet that person I love.
What are you doing?
Do you really spend so much time on Facebook every night?
I was actually a decent student,
but the state my results are in now—
that happened because I started following you,
I mean, following a failure of a doctor has turned me into a failure of a student! Anyway,
good morning. Do you think I’m psychotic? If you do, so be it—the choice is yours! If I am psychotic, then no matter what you think of yourself, I’ll remain psychotic,
and if I’m not psychotic, your thinking won’t make me one. I will suffer for what I am,
not for what you think of me. Listen to Tahsan’s song “Premataal.” That meaningless vibe you give off when you casually speak about your own existence—it has a lot in common with the theme of that song. “Point, I and you around me,
within the circle only you exist…”—this song must be understood not through the brain’s intellect,
but through the heart’s intuition.
Thought: Two hundred eighty.
……………………………………..
I don’t know whether my story is worth telling or not. But this much I know: the narrative of my life could provide material for storytelling,
however modest it may be!
But my discomfort lies elsewhere. I don’t quite know where the ending of my story would fit best,
I mean, at what point should I take my leave so that the story, whatever else it may or may not become, can survive quite well as simply a story.
Well, let me begin. Let’s assume the girl in the story is named Kuhu. Quite ordinary, not bad looking. Average in studies. (I know story heroines should be made good at studies,
but what can I do, tell me—
even as a writer, a little honesty still works within me.)
Their family is good. Father is a primary school headmaster. They are two brothers,
two sisters. Kuhu is the second. Among the siblings, Kuhu looks the best. Almost everyone calls her beautiful.
God gives everyone something a little less. Kuhu has a physical problem—one of her hands is affected by polio. With this problem, the girl completes her BSS,
MSS. During her studies, many boys wanted to enter her life, whether genuinely or falsely. The girl avoids everything because of her physical problem. It’s good for people to have some flaw or other; it helps one stay restrained. Nearly perfect people nearly walk the path of destruction.
A time comes when Kuhu can no longer bear avoiding everyone like this. She felt terribly alone. Almost every night she would spend crying, thinking what would become of her life?
The girl understood everything. Yet she couldn’t make her heart understand. Perhaps the environment around her then compelled her to be this way. Life continued to move forward amid all this.
Suddenly, a change began to come into her life. In 2007, her father gave the girl a mobile phone. The SIM card had been bought about a year earlier. Because of this, many people already knew her number. She had, of course, done a little mischief with the SIM card using her cousins’ wits. When she continued using the phone regularly,
around mid-2007, a call came from an unknown number.
Kuhu picked up the phone. From the other end, a boy spoke in a very flippant, frivolous manner. Hearing this, the girl scolded him as best she could. Such a scolding that she had never given anyone in her life. Meanwhile, the boy had called knowing everything about the girl. Where she lived, what she was like, what her family was like, what her problems were—everything! Because the boy was a friend of the girl’s distant maternal uncle. His intention was to make the girl fall in love. It was a kind of wager—with that uncle. Naturally, he employed every trick in the book for wooing girls. On the other hand, the girl was going through a particularly anguished time then. So, dear reader, you can understand that the girl eventually melted. But she didn’t want someone she could fall in love with; she simply made space in her life for someone with whom she could share all her sorrows. Finding someone to whom she could tell everything about life, from whom she could find peace, made the girl very happy.
Women think one thing, but something else happens. That’s it! And so, gradually, love blossomed. But one problem remained—the girl hadn’t told the boy about her two vulnerable aspects. Her hand condition, her poor academic results. She had also told some lies. Because a kind of fear of losing always worked within the girl. She thought, any moment now the boy would leave her! Because the boy studied at Jahangirnagar University. And that too in English. Naturally, he deserved a better girl. At least that’s how Kuhu thought.
Their love continued quite well. But they met once or twice a year, because the girl lived in Sylhet and the boy in Dhaka. Either the boy came to Sylhet, or the girl went to Dhaka. The girl would cry a lot about this, wanting to meet, wanting to talk. But the boy would almost always avoid such demands from the girl. To this day, they had never met on any special occasion. The boy had never even wished her on her birthday, let alone other days! They would have proper fights about all this.
Days passed this way. The girl accepted everything. Because the boy had accepted her most vulnerable aspect. That one of her hands was polio-affected—Kuhu had told the boy this two months into their relationship. Hearing this, the boy had laughed heartily that day. He said, I know everything already. I was waiting for when you would tell me this yourself. Then the girl just dissolved into tears. That such a person existed, who loved her so much? Then the girl vowed that no matter what, she would keep this boy happy! Even with her life, she would keep a smile on the boy’s face.
So she always kept herself small. She silently endured all the boy’s bad behavior. Her one thought was: the boy who had accepted such a big problem of hers, why couldn’t she accept all his problems? So whatever he said, Kuhu did exactly that. This is how their love story progressed.
Meanwhile, the boy loves her deeply too. Days pass, years pass; and so 2016 arrives. They still haven’t married. Their lives grow more troubled by the day. Almost everyone in the girl’s family and lineage has come to know that she has a relationship with a boy. Yet the boy still cannot bring himself to say that he loves a girl. Just last year, the girl was forced to tell her family that there was someone she cared for—because her family had begun pressing earnestly to arrange her marriage. The boy has become quite acceptable to them. But from the boy she loves, there is no response at all. Theirs is a relationship of nearly nine years. Here the girl can neither endure it nor leave him. Her family is in near-desperate straits over her.
The boy had perhaps mentioned something about the girl to his mother. Hearing of the girl’s predicament, she has done what any other mother would do—informed her son of her disapproval of the marriage. Whenever the boy tries to bring up Kuhu’s name, his mother falls ill. This is melodrama in the traditional mold! Meanwhile, the girl has turned twenty-nine. One can easily imagine the state of her family with such a daughter on their hands. And the boy’s family can offer no destination for this relationship.
The girl says nothing anymore—she only weeps.
How many more stories remain untold. Dear reader, what good would it do to hear more of the girl’s painful tale? Stories of the Kuhus are never brief. Yet we must gauge them from these glimpses alone. The boy can keep Kuhu at his home for a while, but he cannot bring her home for life. Thinking this, Kuhu feels very small, yet she finds no path from this life to any other. A bird that dwells in a cage—its entire world revolves around that cage. Even when the cage door is opened, that bird doesn’t leave, fearing some indefinable loss!
Well, if I were Kuhu, would there be a little time for me? After writing all this, don’t I deserve that much, at least? Will there be a small, everyday story—a story? Will someone have a moment to enter my heart and understand me? Will someone’s pen write an ordinary story of what has been happening, what continues to happen in my life? How much longer will this go on—how much longer must I wait—how much more must I weep before joy and laughter come contentedly from my heart? I know none of these answers. Please don’t let anyone finish my story, sir… I cannot reach the end of my story myself! I live in some sort of labyrinth… I don’t know the way out. I only know that I walk through a dark tunnel with no light visible in any direction.