The Plaster of Thought-Walls (49th Part)

Thought: Three Hundred Thirty-Seven

…………………………………

One. When a weapon comes into hand, intelligence diminishes from the head. Natural. Anyone with a weapon can simply use it for self-defense! What need is there to exercise the mind! Pulling a trigger is easier than thinking, after all!
But one without a weapon must use their head for self-defense! There’s no other way! As a result, their brain becomes sharper day by day.

Two. Before dancing to the tune of someone helpless, consider your own safety first. Because when you fall into a pit, the first kick you’ll receive will come from them. The more you stand by the helpless, the more endangered your own future becomes. The main problem with standing by helpless people is that since helpless people are invariably confused and given to mob mentality, they can harm you at any time, or stand by your enemies. Generally, helpless people have no fixed principles, party, opinion, or character. If born, one must die—this is true; and if you do good, you’ll have to die several times before actually dying—this is an even greater truth. Those who never help anyone are the safest. Those for whom you bare your chest will be the first to plunge a knife into it… Those who haven’t had to go through this experience won’t understand the meaning of this post.

Three. Never put yourself in new danger by listening to someone who wasn’t by your side during times of trouble.

Four. By Android’s grace—results come to nothing!
Don’t believe it? Look at the SSC and HSC exam results, you’ll understand. Keep money in your pocket—not your child’s, but your own.

Five. To know how a man really is, you must marry him. To know how a woman really is, you must marry her. You can never know the real face of anyone until and unless you marry them.

Six. I’m reading Somoresh’s writing about Humayun. It feels wonderful to read good things about one beloved person written by another beloved person’s pen.

Seven. Finishing well is more important than starting well. Saw it again! France’s victory against Croatia with two goalkeepers versus a goalkeeper-less (!) team!! The World Cup went to Sunil’s land of images, land of poetry! Congratulations, France! Love, Croatia! Feeling so sorry for you. Only your result is rewarded, not your efforts! After everything, winning is what matters!

Eight. The more income increases, the less one eats. I’m thinking, I’ll reduce eating to increase income!

Nine. Inspiration doesn’t accomplish much unless you yourself start the work and keep doing it despite hundreds of obstacles!
Still, I’ll say, if you’re going to read five inspirational pieces in life, then read the story of Belgium’s Romelu Lukaku’s journey from nobody to somebody. It will serve you in life.

Ten. Those who are beating you—
when they were beating us,
you stood by their side. Now you want us by your side. Our indifference appears to you as evidence of our base mentality. The fact that we do not stand with them now—doesn’t this prove
that we possess a higher mentality than yours? (The soliloquy of a tribal patriarch during some tribal war a few centuries before Christ)

Eleven. We are quite a cute nation. Whoever has served us, serves us,
will serve us—we abuse them, we strike them. We stab them in the back and say, Father,
bare your chest for me!
There’s no point thinking about all this. We will never change. Better to listen to ghazals instead. Ghazals are superior to abuse.

Twelve. Before following someone, you must know how to follow. If you want someone’s current lifestyle, you need to follow not their present
but their past lifestyle—
the one that helped them achieve their current lifestyle. Becoming something great overnight doesn’t mean becoming great in one night,
but rather becoming great in one night through the practice of many nights.

Thirteen. Brother,
how do you remember to call and wish me on my birthday,
how do you keep track of the date?
Brother, if I didn’t remember your birthday, my household would fall apart!
What do you mean? Your birthday and my wife’s birthday are on the same date!
Hahahaha………… No one else
will call like this anymore. No one will stand in front of the canteen at Fazle Rabbi Hall in Dhaka Medical and say, “Sushanta,
are you in Dhaka? Come to Fazle Rabbi Hall!”
Palash bhai has left us. However painful it may be, this too must now be believed. How many things we must believe to keep living! My head went blank when I heard the news. I spent such beautiful times with bhai. All the memories are coming back one by one. Palash bhai is gone—
must this too be accepted???
This is how people become memories! The living, breathing man has become a photograph like this!
Occasionally bhai would call. Just like that, to check in. Just a few days ago he called and said, I see Lalmonirhat too, I’ll come visit there,
we’ll meet. I’ll take you around all of Kurigram and Lalmonirhat. You couldn’t come to Jessore, miya!………Bhai won’t come anymore. Since morning, Palash bhai’s face has been fixed before my eyes!
I just can’t think of anything. Looking at bhai’s photographs, it’s still hard to believe
that bhai is gone. No one should have any anger toward such a person. Yet if anyone harbors even the slightest anger toward Palash bhai, please forgive him. If you must curse, curse me instead. I am willing to be punished for him. We will all become photographs one day,
become a number in a phone. That day could be today. May God keep us alive as good people.

Fourteen. The friend you introduce to someone today—
you’ll see, tomorrow that very person will cause your friend to drift away from you. Your friend will consider that third person closer than you. Through your hand the connection was made,
but in maintaining that connection, they’ll diminish their connection with you. People are more enthusiastic about making strangers their own than keeping their existing loved ones close. And if that third person happens to be of the opposite sex to your friend,
this
distance becomes almost inevitable! (Men often push friends aside for women. I wonder,
do women do the same?)
And you’ll develop a certain coolness with that third person as well.
(This has happened countless times in my life.)

Thought: Three hundred thirty-eight

…………………………………

One. O God! May every lover’s limbs awaken suddenly and timely like Tony Kroos’s feet!

Two more hours. I’m staring at Cristiano Ronaldo’s feet……..

Two. If someone like Kaushiki were to mistakenly come and take my hand,
I could say ‘no’ to all old relationships
to walk a new path! ……….I know,
I’m thinking wrongly. Alas, the sorrow of not being able to make certain mistakes never leaves you in a lifetime!

Three. The basic difference between men & women: For sex, Men
need a place, Women need a reason.

Four. Some overrated things:

Wedding photography

Facebook friendship

Virginity . . . . . . . Add
more…………..

(Some things we make too much fuss about beyond necessity:
Wedding photography,
Facebook friendship,
Chastity . . . . . . . . You too
add something.)

Five. Winner’s smile always talks louder than loser’s shout.
Winners speak by actions, losers speak by words. Let’s smile while they’re
shouting. Always only losers have to shout. Winning is sexier than playing
well. Go, Brazil, Go!!!

At the end of the day, Brazil
remains Brazil!!! That’s the beauty!!! Well done, Champs!!! Thumbs up for the
Costa Rican goalkeeper!!! When life gives you an extra chance, prove your extra
worth!!! The game is still ON!!!

It’s not a goal, it’s a feeling!!!
Love you, Coutinho!!!

Can you really hide shame just by hiding your face,
you fool?

Feeling the old rhythm of Brazil!
Yes, it’s the style we’re familiar with! Let’s shout…….Go, go, Brazil! Good
luck, boys!

There was nothing I could do, my dear……there was nothing I could do. I just watched as they scored the goal…………
Listen to music,
cool your anger. You know already,
if you get angry, you’ve already lost. (Though you’ve already lost even before getting angry!)

Dear supporters of Brazil, even if Brazil wins tomorrow’s match, will you find as much joy as you’re experiencing now? You won’t. Do you know why? We are less supporters of Brazil than we are anti-Argentina supporters; we are less supporters of Argentina than we are anti-Brazil supporters.

Six. For the first time in my life, I played matchmaker at a wedding. I seek everyone’s blessings for my new career. Please don’t leave without writing ‘Matchmaker Uncle’ in the comments. The other day, when my friend shared a photo of his matchmaking, all those who quietly left without writing ‘Matchmaker Uncle’ have developed deep affairs with their bathroom routines. Kidding apart, our best wishes remain with the newlyweds.

Seven. “A dog will always bite below the knee, because a dog can never rise higher than that.”

Eight. How do you identify the lowly? Go to the comment threads of various posts on Prothom Alo or any popular page. Read the comments, observe the mentality of the educated/semi-educated fools, know Bangladesh. Come and see what depths of vulgarity we can sink to. You’ll find plenty of lowlifes on the walls of major celebrity pages too. We are foolish, crude, hypocritical, ungrateful, envious, thankless, judgmental. Certain passages from Bangabandhu’s ‘Unfinished Autobiography’ about the character of Bangladeshis come to mind repeatedly, uninvited.

During this World Cup football, you can easily identify some lowlifes from your friend list and follower list. A match is happening. You post something about the game, players, or the match. The lowlifes won’t comment about the game, players, or the match. How will they comment? They’ll attack you personally. Why? Because they can never be like you. This is called the rage of the incompetent. In comments, they’ll irrelevantly drag in your achievements. Why? Because it’s impossible for them to achieve those things. Simple. Seeing what happens in the harem, the eunuchs will naturally rage. It’s natural. Read the book ‘The History of Eunuchs.’ Even then, most eunuchs were forcibly castrated, so they had a suppressed anger within them. And us? No one castrated us. Due to the degradation of our thoughts and actions, this is our wretched state and position! Still we rage, and that rage isn’t directed at ourselves, but at others! You won’t find another species like this anywhere in the world. One who cannot vent his anger upon himself is truly weak. Unfriend the lowlifes from your list, block them. It’s better to be alone than to be with the crude. I am a supporter of the Brazil team in this World Cup football. I have passion for the game, but it never reaches the level of senseless madness. Speaking with complete consciousness, if someone told me, ‘Give 500 taka and Brazil will win the cup,’ I wouldn’t give it. Brazil winning brings me no personal or national benefit. It’s better to spend that money on puchka. I am emotional, but not mad. Yes, if Bangladesh were playing in the World Cup football, I would give that money even if I had to borrow it. Many times after our cricket victories, I’ve fed sweets to everyone at home or office until they were full. Only for one’s own country can one become crazy, foolish, drunk—everything. This country feeds me, clothes me, keeps me alive. I watch games purely for joy; when Bangladesh plays, madness accompanies that joy.

My own cousin lives in India. After India’s narrow, hard-fought victory in the Bangladesh-India T20 match, he said some nasty things about Bangladesh. After giving him a proper response, I blocked him on Facebook. I made it crystal clear that he should never attempt to contact me again in this lifetime, and I won’t either. He’s one of those smart boys of this generation with limited brains. So when he can’t hold his ground in an argument, he starts spouting nonsense. It’s better to keep such ill-mannered people at a distance. For the past two days, I’ve been witnessing the vulgarity and filth from some cute emotional Bangladeshis, and I’m not surprised. They’re attacking me and my position unprovoked, hurling indecent remarks. If you want to speak, talk about the game, the players, the match. Attack the argument in my post and demolish it completely. I’ll welcome that. But why are you being vulgar? Have I attacked you personally?
(Of course, I don’t even have time to count you among worthy opponents, and even if I did, I wouldn’t attack you personally—it’s against my nature. Actually, I don’t need to resort to personal attacks to survive.)
Why are you doing it then? When people lack brains, they resort to personal attacks. Why do you gratuitously and disgracefully drag my ranking first in the BCS exam into every one of my posts for no reason? That’s my livelihood, brother!… Does it burn you up?
If it burns, then do something worthwhile and show me. What’s the point of just commenting? A worthy son proves through action, a fool’s son just talks.

To the vulgar ones I say—do I understand sports poorly? You’re absolutely right. It’s precisely because I haven’t spent all my time buried in sports that I am Sushanta Paul, and you are my follower. The matter is clear, isn’t it? I’ve banned many vulgar people from my page. I’ll unban them again after two days. Why, you ask? It’s a game. Those vulgar creatures will come back to my wall, see my posts—silently or vocally. Love me or hate me… but you cannot ignore me. Guru Shah Rukh is always right, at least in my case—he was, is, and will be. It’s my challenge… to myself! I am friendly; this doesn’t mean I’m your friend. Learn to understand your own limits. Friend means real-life friend; Facebook friend is a fake thing. Whether you come to my wall or not, I don’t care.

You respect me, you’re my fan, you listen to my speeches, you read my writing… you do all this because you enjoy doing it. None of it affects me in the slightest. If you act vulgarly, I’ll ban you straight away, and then unban you again. Why? As I said, your shameless return entertains me, inspires me.
… You’ve banned my such-and-such ID, no problem. Just know this… blah blah blah. Inbox news. He simply cannot tolerate me, yet cannot stay away from my wall. Isn’t that cute? Tell me, why are we such spineless fools? I’ll end with a quote from Guru Cristiano Ronaldo: Your love makes me strong, your hate makes me unstoppable.

Reflection: Three hundred forty-nine

…………………………………

One. Bratina,
Parlina! Brothers two, come here!
Dear Brazil, we missed your original flavour. It’s disappointing. Best match so
far: Ger-Mex match! If Brazil or Argentina had to face Mexico, God would have
to receive more prayers & tears! Brazil
and Argentina are brothers, seems Germany hasn’t eaten either!

Two. Brazil national football team versus Switzerland national kabaddi team!

It’s the Brazil Style! Go, Brazil,
Go!!

Three. When a team has no extraordinary finisher, to win they must play with all eleven. Lovely game between Germany and Mexico!
Thumbs up for Ochoa!
You are beautiful, man!
Fingers crossed for the second half!

Well deserved defeat, Germany! Well
earned victory, Mexico! Lovely match! Thank you, boys, for keeping it alive
till the end! Mexico, loved your defense! Loved your goalkeeper! Ochoa is a masterpiece!
Hats off! Had you an excellent finisher like Ronaldo, you could score 2 more
for sure! Now fingers crossed for the BraSwi match!!!

Four. ‘Could any of you give me a shroud!’ How did you write such a wondrously cruel line, Samaresh?
I bow to you and think, ah,
I could have spent this worthless life beneath your feet!
I read ‘Clouds in the Moonlit Rain.’ A deeply melancholic novel. To those boys or girls who carry the entire family’s burden on their shoulders, I say: if you have the chance to read only ten Bengali novels in your life,
I would tell you to put this book on your reading list. My heart is breaking, tears are coming. I’m crying too. The last time I felt this way was after watching Ritwik Ghatak’s
‘The Cloud-Capped Star.’

Five. When boys come into contact with girls, even the most truthful boy becomes a liar. The reverse is also true.

Six. Because I support Brazil, my salary has increased several times over. What have you gained in life by supporting Argentina?
Has Argentina given jobs to the unemployed?
Or raised the salaries of working people? Brazil gave us everything,
but what did Argentina give you? We eat Brazil’s salt, so we sing Brazil’s praises, we’re even ready to kill for Brazil! But what’s the reason for your blind devotion to Argentina?
The respect you show me,
the love you give,
the following,
the reading of my words—I survive by washing down all this!
When you occasionally threaten to unfollow,
disrespect, show hatred,
don’t you feel even a little pity for this poor soul? You call me an idol or something, I don’t know what, but if I don’t comply, I’ll simply die!
If you don’t see my posts, I’ll just sit there committing suicide by drowning myself in Sprite!
Please please please, my male and
female admirers,
never say such things again,
it hits right in the chest! If you don’t come to my wall, I’ll become a street beggar!

Seven. Eid means joy, Eid means celebration. Today’s hard-fought, nail-biting match that Argentina barely won is an Eid gift for Argentina’s supporters. The heartfelt passion of Argentina’s fans moves us to tears again and again. I know that perhaps today the boy, being unemployed, will lose the girl to someone else’s marriage proposal—this is how it always happens everywhere except in Humayun Ahmed’s novels, and it will keep happening; yet… there was no fault in the girl’s love! The girl will continue loving just like this, and the tissue business will keep flourishing.

Iceland, we love your defense, we love your goalkeeper. Thank you for the lovely game! Brothers, I tip my hat to you. Cheers!!

Dear Messi, Eid Mubarak. Come, let’s embrace. Watching you today, I kept remembering that friend of mine who faced the BCS viva board five times but couldn’t get the job due to bad luck. I know both penalty shots and women’s hearts are equally unpredictable, but free kicks? Sir, you have to understand—free kicks aren’t really that free! Argentina’s fans! You’ve been saved by the skin of your teeth today! Everyone celebrate together with cake and coke! Thank you. Please come again.

Messi, Neymar—they used to play well, now they act well.

Eight. In our time (2002), the HSC exam pass rate was 27.09%, when it wasn’t yet the era of “buy noodles, get bowl free; sit for exams, get A+ free.” Ah, I’m part of that 27.09% too!! What a matter of great joy that Bangladesh has been freed from this incompetent generation. Now everyone in this country is absolutely brilliant! Eid Mubarak.

Nine. I’m very fond of something Cristiano Ronaldo once said: “You will go and say that I have a big head, but when you’re at the top, it’s normal that you’re criticised. … I am the best player in history, in both good and bad times.” Where are those people who say pride is the root of downfall? Come on, can humility save donkeys and idiots from their downfall? Rather, let’s correct this: the pride of the incapable is the root of the incapable’s downfall.

Ten. The same person who once desperately wanted to build relationships becomes desperate to break them! The same person! But why? For the pull of something new? Or in the spell of some old unfulfilled longing? Or because there’s nothing new left to discover in what’s old and present? She’s gone. It’s not that I desperately wanted to hold her back. I let her go easily enough. Then why does my heart cry in such emptiness for her? They say men don’t cry! Who says such things? Send them to any man who has truly loved! Humans live in opposite worlds. They have to live in opposite worlds.

Eleven. Ah, Sumona Haq! Do you remember the jingles in her voice? All those sparkling ads from our childhood! ☺️ (I’ll put the link in the comment thread.) This song (Mayabi e rate gopone du’jone……..) — listening to it, you can feel her presence! I’ve heard it thousands of times! My childhood crush!

Twelve. At the ugly man’s shop, I wait to become handsome.

Thirteen. I lit the lamp of sight and searched for you. What a fiercely alive song!!
Ah, what beautiful songs they used to create once upon a time!
(I’m sharing some more beloved old songs in the comments.)

Thoughts: Three hundred and forty

…………………………………

One. A nation that assumes any girl who smiles at them has fallen in love with them—that same nation will naturally mistake anyone’s friendly behavior as intimate friendship.

Two. Sometimes the wrong person will deliver you to exactly the right place.

Three. There’s no such thing as a wife—’wife’ is a media creation.

Four. The more I know about the boys, the more I find myself an angel. The more I know about the girls, the more I find myself an idiot.

Five. You could commit cold-blooded murder, but you couldn’t get married. When getting married, the unnecessary torment inflicted by random people will inevitably disturb you.

Six. If you want free milk, go to the cow, not the milkman.*

*Conditions apply. What conditions? You have to buy the cow first with money or something in exchange, you have to take care of it. Also remember—even a purchased cow doesn’t give milk gladly; you need to know the technique of milking. Give time to the cow, you’ll get milk. Even if you devote your whole life to a bull, you’ll get nothing but dung.

Seven. The Uttam-immersion continues!
I watched Shankhobela (1966). The Lata-Manna duet ‘Ke prothom kachhe esheche’ and Lata’s ‘Aj mon cheyeche’—both songs are from this movie. Then I watched Nagar Darpane (1975). Good story. I felt I found a little bit of myself in this movie. Now I’m watching Jodi Jantam (1974). This movie has Soumitra too!
To my knowledge, there are 5 movies with both Uttam Kumar and Soumitra Chattopadhyay. Jodi Jantam (1974) is one of them. The Uttam-immersion will continue! Either I’ll be alone, or with something worthwhile!
The company of the ordinary makes one ordinary.

Main shayar to nahin. I’ve shared another beautiful song from this movie in the comments. Let sorrows float away in melody.

Eight. A kiss—that momentary pleasure—even this cannot be demanded from a stranger on first meeting. People get free kisses through so much pretense! (Of course, paid kisses are a different matter!) And proper career planning can bring lifelong happiness!—how can you suddenly demand this from a stranger on first meeting?
(That too, for free?)
What is this nation going to do with such expectant thick-skulled senseless innocent bulls!

Nine. I’m watching Uttam-Supriya’s *Suryashikha* (1963). In one scene, Uttam Kumar (Dr. Dipto Roy) happens to visit Supriya Devi (Achena Bose)’s home. (They haven’t fallen in love yet.) In a corner of Supriya Devi’s drawing room sat a mandolin that she had bought to learn to play but never did. When Supriya Devi goes into the inner room, Uttam Kumar begins drawing exquisite melodies from the mandolin. Hearing this, Supriya Devi is enchanted and finds herself drawn to Uttam Kumar. Through their conversation, we learn that Uttam Kumar once played the mandolin as a hobby. Watching this scene, it struck me—ah, if I were waiting in such a drawing room belonging to some Supriya Devi, and there happened to be any musical instrument other than drums, I would have absolutely no way to enchant the heroine!

Ten. Since yesterday I’ve watched: *Ustad Hotel* (2012), *Borat* (2006), *The Tree of Wooden Clogs* (1986), *Shesh Anka* (1963), *Chiriyakhana* (1967), *Pyaasa* (1957). Now watching: *Suryashikha* (1963). (The spelling of the name appears as ‘Suryya.’ The rule that no letter in Bengali can have both ya-phala and repha together didn’t exist then.)

Eleven. Bengalis—want to taste honey without giving anything, want to taste honey without offering anything!

Twelve. During my college days at Chittagong College, driven by an intense passion for Bengali language, I bought Harischandra Bandyopadhyay’s *Bangiya Shabdakosh* (2 volumes). I was in Intermediate First Year then. I still remember when I was buying it at Genuine Library in Chittagong’s Andarkilla, the shopkeeper asked, “Are you buying this for the college library?” “No, for myself!” Hearing this, he exclaimed “What?! What will you do with this book?” and stared at me wide-eyed. People aren’t accustomed to seeing or accepting anything different. When I asked Ma for the money to buy such an expensive ‘unnecessary’ book at that age, she asked no questions. I had told her, “Ma, I really need this book. I won’t buy anything this Puja. Give me that money to buy this book instead.” Ma smiled and said, “Buy the book first, when Puja comes, we’ll see.” (I later learned that Ma had taken money from Baba to buy a sari she liked at that time; instead of buying the sari, she put that money in my hands.) I would turn the pages of that dictionary, diving into the ocean of words for hours on end, thinking with infinite wonder—how does someone become so dedicated! How much labor the compiler must have put into such work! I always remained reverently bowed to his erudition. Such people were heroes in my eyes—celebrities, brilliant minds. No matter how outwardly attractive someone might be, if they had nothing substantial in their head, I felt not an ounce of fascination or respect for them—still don’t. Even then, the arrogance and envy of the incompetent made me laugh! Inspired by Rabindranath, Harischandra Bandyopadhyay accomplished such an almost impossible task. Bengalis owe him an immeasurable debt. The story ‘Ekti Jibon O Koyekti Mrityu’ (A Life and Several Deaths) (1960) written by Buddhadev Basu in the shadow of his life has been preserved on celluloid by Raja Mitra. *Ekti Jibon* (1988) was his first work. Watching Soumitra’s magnificent performance depicting one man’s dedication, sacrifice, and struggle left me overwhelmed! Complete devotion to a dream renders a person utterly detached from the surrounding world—the deaths of daughter, son, and wife one after another couldn’t stop his journey; he seemed to live only for the fulfillment of his dream. Now watching *Adalat O Ekti Meye* (1982).

Thirteen. I watched Natun Pata (1969). I haven’t seen many films with such fluid grace. The feeling one gets from watching Pather Panchali (1955), Subarnarekha (1965), Aparajito (1956) — even today… I felt the same while watching ‘Natun Pata.’ I didn’t even know the name of this film, so steeped in simplicity, until today! Indeed, precious gems remain hidden. This film by Dinen Gupta won the National Film Award. A curious coincidence occurred — I hadn’t known beforehand, yet somehow it happened! Today, two films have left their mark on my mind, and both films’ stories come from the same household — from the writings of the writer-husband’s ‘own’ writer-wife! When this struck me, I found it quite delightful. Natun Pata (1969) was made based on Pratibha Basu’s story, and Ekti Jibon (1988) was made based on Buddhadeb Basu’s story. Both films are masterpieces! Even the thought of such a couple makes one bow in reverence! By the way, watching Adalat O Ekti Meye (1982) didn’t feel like something that would be missed if not seen. Sleep, waking from sleep… I’ll come back!

Reflection: Three hundred forty-one

…………………………………

One. The more care, the more pain. This is what love is.

Two. I watched A Peck on the Cheek (2002). A Tamil film. Original title Kannathil Muthamittal; written by cinema guru Mani Ratnam, his filmography, his direction. Such extraordinary work, worth experiencing! Do watch it, you’ll like it. I see many people asking for movie download links in comment threads. Seriously, why are you all so notoriously lazy? What harm would a little smartness do! What are torrents for?

Now I’ll watch the Malayalam film Manichithrathazhu (1993). We cannot think the way they do, which is why we cannot create anything even close to what they make! The first step of beautiful work — beautiful thinking. One who doesn’t know how to think beautifully cannot possibly work beautifully.

Three. I watched Mucize (2015). Loved it very much. There is infinite power in love — that power makes possible even what seems largely impossible! The film’s last dialogue has etched itself in my mind… ah!

Mother: Aziz, you can speak! Thank God!

Aziz: Mother, I can speak.

………………………………………………………………

Father: You’re completely well now! Did you have surgery?

Aziz: No, Father. I… (looking at his wife) I fell in love with my wife! I was stunned by the performance of the actor who played Aziz! Ah, if only we had such an actor!!! Now I’m watching La La Land (2016).

Four. I invite you to watch Mayurakshi (2017). In this film, I found my father. Perhaps you will too. I truly cannot understand how someone like Soumitra remains so great even at this age. None of us are that smart, nor will we ever be able to be.

Five. Even the record companies that flourished by publishing and selling recordings of Nazrul’s songs offered not an ounce of help during his darkest hour, nor did they even inquire after him. The same can be said of those publishers who transformed their financial circumstances by selling his books.
—Golam Murshid,
The Rebel Worn by Battle:
A Biography of Nazrul, page 481

I mentioned earlier that after Nazrul suddenly fell ill with such a permanent and incurable disease, the officials of gramophone companies and artists showed cruel indifference toward the poet. From what transpired in the field of gramophone records for nearly two decades after the poet’s illness, it would not be wrong to assume that when lyricist-composer Nazrul became ill, the then minor and rising lyricists and composers actually breathed a sigh of relief. —Ibid,
page 497

Happy birthday,
Nazrul. Don’t hold any hurt in your heart over our behavior—
it’s precisely because we love you so much that we wound you! Without ingratitude, where would our very existence be,
tell me! You were moving in such a way that no one noticed our movement at all, so we were quite pleased when you stopped!
How much profit this brings, that accounting is given by eternity itself—
has been given, will be given!

Six. Goats need fencing, sir.

Seven. Now watching……Memsaheb
(1983) Next I’ll watch………Agnishwar (1975) If sleep doesn’t come………Chalchitra (1981) Movies to relieve the fatigue of reading and writing.

After many days, I wept profusely watching a film. Agnishwar
(1975).
I hadn’t seen this film all these years!

Watching Teen Bhubanerparey (1969)
(Seeing Tanuja,
my head spins;
in the greed to make my head spin even more, I keep watching with great attention………)
Will watch Joy Jayanti
(1971) Has anyone watched Agnishwar
(1975) after my yesterday’s post? How did you find it? If you haven’t seen it, do watch it. In my judgment, Agnishwar is one of Uttam Kumar’s top 5 films.

Eight. I can no longer eat the rasmanjari from Gaibandha Confectionery (possibly Bangladesh’s finest rasmanjari) as I used to—
in one sitting I managed only half a kilo. Ah,
nectar! Such a small life—it could easily be spent just eating sweets! What do you say!

Nine. The best 5 non-Bengali non-Hindi Indian films I’ve seen: Drishyam (2013) (Even now, thinking of this film takes my breath away………that humans can make such films!) Charlie (2015) Anbe Sivam (2003)
Premam (2015) Pushpak (1987)……….Now
I’ll watch Sairat (2016).

Ten. To have anything in the world, you need either money or a
reason. If you don’t have any of those 2, don’t expect to have it.

Eleven. One from whom I have never benefited
is good. One from whom I am benefiting less than before is bad; therefore,
strike them down.

Such a nation you will find nowhere,

Such a mine of ingrates is my motherland!

Twelve. I heard
Zia Jale performed by the Berklee Indian Ensemble of Berklee College of Music.

I think I read it in Rabindranath’s Chhinnapatra………………a girl from the hills with an invincible aquiline nose…………some such passage. I have fallen in love with this song’s invincibly long-nosed enchanting girl, and I want to fall deeper…………. I’ve listened to this song three times now, still listening, and keep consoling myself…………come on, Bappi! She’s not yours…………take my salutations, O goddess!

Alizée! My teenage crush! Ah, how many countless times I must have watched and listened to ‘La Isla Bonita’ in her voice back then!

The night has deepened, the world sleeps. How many sleepless nights have passed listening to this song over and over…..now I’ll listen to Tapan Chowdhury’s “Jete jete keno pore badha”…..old songs bring old memories.

Thirteen. When the battle is with your own people, it’s necessary to lose. When the battle is with yourself, it’s necessary to win.

Fourteen. I can go

In any direction I can go

But why should I go?

— Shakti Chattopadhyay

I can give

To any person I can give time

But why should I give?

— Sushanta Pal.

Understanding this ‘why’ is what maturity means.

Fifteen. Pandit Tushar Dutta’s voice singing “Na mitite sadh mor nishi pohay”……… To live, Bengalis will always need Nazrul. Ah, what grandeur! What enchantment!

Sixteen. Donkey with donkey, lion with lion. Walking with a donkey, whatever else may happen, becoming a lion is never possible.

Seventeen. There are some extraordinary people at the mere thought of whom my head unconsciously bows to the dust of their feet. How much joy and wonder they have given us to keep us alive! I have a kind of blind devotion to such people, so any pedantic insect’s barb against them makes my blood boil. Seeing them, one feels that practice alone is not enough, some talent is also needed. One genius is more valuable than a hundred thousand scholars. Love. Gratitude. Salutations. Happy birthday, Guru Satyajit!

Eighteen. Watched Veer-Zaara. Wonderful impact! Some of the dialogues really shake you up! Quite a good movie for exercising the heart.

Nineteen. To get something precious, you have to give up something precious.

Twenty. Most people are happy to find someone with whom they can behave as rudely as they wish and in response to such behavior they will always get only polite, meek mewing. Even when they themselves act boorishly, they only watch the other’s reaction, unwilling to bring their own action to mind. Whatever they may say, people prefer spineless, compliant friends.

Thought: Three hundred forty-two

…………………………………

One. I keep listening to “Yaad koi baat bigad jayi” again and again, and I keep telling myself over and over… no, she didn’t love me,
I didn’t love her either,
don’t love her,
and never will. Does any of this make sense?
Does she still listen to this song when she’s sad, the way she used to? Does she keep listening?… And then send it to her husband, saying, “Hey, you grumpy monkey,
here, listen to this!”

Let her do whatever she wants! What’s it to me! Why am I even thinking about all this?
Strange! Why am I so shameless?

Two. Be wary of two kinds of people: first, those who speak using only their tongues; second, those who listen using only their ears.

Three. For those of us who think becoming a BCS cadre is everything in life,
my respect,
love, and best wishes for Subir Sir.
I’m taking two days off to come to Chittagong for a week. Reading about this man from my region made me bow my head in reverence,
and I felt compelled to share it with you all.

Four. “E paare mukhar holo keka oi”… Imon,
you know, I’m actually afraid to watch or listen to this song of yours!
It’s completely intoxicating!
How many times I’ve listened to it!
What a love, I tell you!

This song seems touchable with the moist breeze!
Both body and soul awaken!
The heart yearns for something! Perhaps
a drop of rainwater on these lips!

The sky is dripping,
eyes are getting drunk,
coffee is steaming,
khichuri is calling!
Ah!

Five. Leo Rojas’s “El Condor Pasa”… Ah! Such a melody is more beautiful than several deaths!

Six. “Dhako jato na noyon du haate”… Ah, Mehdi Hassan! How alive he still is!
(I’m putting some more favorite songs in his voice in the comments.)

Seven. Toto Cutugno – L’Italiano (1983)

Sit down to listen with the steam of a cup of coffee. The song unfamiliar?
Doesn’t matter!
The tune is familiar though, isn’t it! Still can’t remember? “Nasha ye pyaar ka nasha hai”…

Eight. Even a girl who’s been in relationships with 7-8 boys will think a boy is ‘bad’
when he approaches her on his own.

No. I’m writing this in utter frustration. Bangladesh has still not reached the stage where it properly values prepaid customers. How so? Suppose you order books online. If you pay after receiving the books, no problem. You order ten books, perhaps two aren’t available. You receive eight books and pay for those eight. No hassle whatsoever. But if you somehow pay before receiving the books, then you’re in trouble. They’ll delay sending the books. They won’t provide any updates on their own, and worse, when you call them, they’ll act as if you’ve somehow trapped them by paying them money. If some books aren’t in stock, naturally they’ll send the remaining ones and exclude those unavailable—but for the money you’ve paid in advance for the books that weren’t available, you’ll have to call and demand it back. They won’t call you much on their own, because money that reaches someone’s hands becomes theirs. When they inform you that they’re returning your money, their behavior will make you feel as though they’re doing you a great favor by returning it. Try ordering through the prepaid system. Your experience will be roughly the same. If you pay after receiving the books, you won’t need to say anything at all—rather, they’ll address you as “sir” and graciously accept your payment.

My question is: why should I have to give so many explanations for paying cash? Have I paid less? Or paid late? I had ordered a collection of works from a publisher. I sent the money within minutes, along with my courier address. Then the games began. I called them, sent messages to their page, and they spoke as if I had committed some crime. Believe it or not, I had to send them my address four times! After that, I had to request and remind them at least five times to send the books. They had apparently forgotten! I’m a book collector, I need these books badly for my library, I’d be grateful if you could send the books—I had to say such things politely, despite having paid the full amount long ago! Yet those who pay after receiving books don’t have to say anything. Those who pay in advance get caught. This isn’t a country of gentlemen. Why? Because they’ve gotten the money in hand!

There’s more to the story. If you pay before receiving the books, you’ll have to go to the courier service office to collect them yourself, but if you pay after receiving the books, they’ll bring them to you—even though the shipping charge is the same in both cases. Yet if you pay after receiving the books, there’s no problem. You can see whether the books are in proper condition and pay for whatever books you receive. You’ve placed an order but haven’t paid yet, so they’ll call you very politely and say, “Sir, we couldn’t find such-and-such books, but we’ve sent the rest.”

Let me tell you about another problem. If you buy fewer books, you won’t face much trouble. Many businesspeople in this country are still not prepared for high-volume sales. When you order more products, you should ideally become a valued customer and receive some extra benefits, or at the very least, you deserve prompt service. In reality, the opposite happens! You get delayed service with some mismanagement thrown in, for one simple reason: they’re not prepared to deliver such large quantities of products. But they’re absolutely ready to take orders for those large quantities! You see the absurdity!

From last February’s book fair until now, I’ve bought over four hundred books online. And because I bought more books, I had to endure more pain. This is the state of professionalism among some of our country’s businesspeople! In this country, forget about extra benefits for loyal customers—they don’t even properly provide what’s due.

Being a loyal customer simply means extra hassle awaits you. I’ve been using GP since 2002. All of GP’s offers are either for new users or for those who’ve left their SIM unused for ages. There’s more to this story. The amount I recharge in one month—many users don’t recharge even a quarter of that in an entire year. Yet because they use less, they get extra benefits from GP that I don’t receive even a fraction of. They call it incentives. Damn freeloaders! The sooner we can break free from this culture, the better. Not everyone is a run-of-the-mill customer, right? Special customers should be treated specially. If a company can’t provide proper customer service, how will it survive?

Ten. “If you don’t savor the taste, why speak of Ram…” It’s better to hear something good when you hear anything at all. Life is short! How many times I’ve heard this! I feel like spreading good things among everyone, so I’m sharing. Some clouds pour sky, some voices pour heart. I bow my head in reverence for the child, taking off the cap of pride.

Eleven. The Cinematic Orchestra – Arrival of The Birds & Transformation… Listen to this melody. From beginning to end. All the ice accumulated in your chest will fall as snow. I promise.

Twelve. Some violin melodies are like medicine. Like this one. (Sound of an Angel) Some medicines are like melodies. Like the medicine that father, mother must take. Both are needed—to live! May the creators of such melodies live joyfully forever!

Twelve. God has attached such pieces of fingers to my hands too and sent me to this world. Alas, I could never properly utilize that gift! A Breathtaking Piano Piece – Jervy Hou. I devoured the melody, took off my cap. Reverence. Love.

Thirteen. I watch teenagers. One day they’ll grow up and say to some Sushanta Paul,
Brother, I’m very talented but I’m suffering from depression. Please teach me how to top the BCS exam. Bangladesh is raising a generation of foul, dumb, shallow boys and girls. Please, don’t tell me that surely a miracle will happen and they’ll become something great!
Miracles do happen, but not every day, not for everyone. Often, miracles happen for a reason, not without cause. Looking at them fills me with pity. (Note: if the text seeking advice were written in English, it would be horrific to read! These idiots can’t write a single line in proper English, yet they want jobs!)

Fourteen. While listening to “Main Agar Kahun”… I remembered that right after this movie was released, Om Shanti Om glass ball dolls came out, and they were in huge demand. Wind-up glass ball dolls in various sizes. When wound up, Shah Rukh and Deepika would spin hand in hand inside the ball, dancing, while this song’s music played. We sold at least a few thousand pieces of these glass ball dolls at our gift shop, Dobhana. Those were the days of speaking convincingly with customers (sweet-talking them), wrapping purchased gifts, and whether they bought anything or not, saying thanks with a smile when they left the shop and telling them ‘please come again’—those were different kinds of days!
Even now, thinking about it sends shivers through me!
Today I understand that the first condition for becoming greater than someone—you must first present yourself as smaller than them!

Fifteen. Is he really that talented?
Can he still become a BCS cadre? Hah!

Sixteen.

: How’s the job, brother?

: Exactly like a job.

: Meaning, good or bad?

: I’m a poor man; the poor aren’t supposed to have preferences about good or bad. What the poor have is need.

Seventeen. I’m listening to Lata’s voice singing “Agar Tum Na Hote”…
If you weren’t there, beloved,
what meaning would
living have left,
tell me! (That’s what it means, isn’t it?
Ah, if only I understood Hindi!
How many sweet songs there are in Hindi! Won’t someone please teach me Hindi!)

Eighteen. My younger brother Prashanta bought me a punjabi with his first month’s salary from his new job. Perhaps many of you know him—he writes good poetry.

Nineteen. (In response to the public reaction to a piece by Muhammad Zafar Iqbal) Please read the piece ‘again.’ Where exactly is the error in what Sir has said? Sir’s statement is transparent, honest, and logical. Many people are saying all sorts of things about Sir, which comes up in my newsfeed, so I’ve learned about it. After Rabindranath Tagore wrote “We are all kings in this kingdom of our king” for this ignorant nation, he didn’t break down its meaning further. What a pity! A single piece by Sir carries far more weight than cheap copy-paste comments from hundreds of thousands of people like you and me. Among those who still genuinely think about Bangladesh’s welfare, Sir is one. What he has written is a bit difficult for people like you and me, walking around with our crude intellects, to understand. So why are we jumping around in misunderstanding? Is that our culture? We are not only ungrateful, but also helpless, and therefore opportunistic. Most helpless people have no definite character. Regrettably, helpless people often lose their sound judgment as well. I request again, read the piece ‘again.’ P.S. Bangladesh is a strange country. Here, no movement happens without a ‘but.’ Why I’ve said this—let that be.

Twenty. The fleeting acquaintance with the driver of the rickshaw I ride is more alive than Facebook friendship.

Thoughts: Three Hundred Forty-Three

…………………………………

One. In case you expect true love and loyalty, don’t marry, have a dog instead!

Two. I am overwhelmed, embarrassed, and annoyed by the burden of your heart-stirring New Year gifts. I apologize and also ask for prayers. Brothers, if possible this time, please send some papers. Looking alone doesn’t satisfy anymore—one wants to touch!

P.S. I also receive checks.

Three. Listen to The Lonely Shepherd performed by André Rieu and Gheorghe Zamfir, feel it. Welcome to the world’s festival of joy! (Really listen! I know no questions from this video will appear in BCS exams, but still listen.)

Four. Whether the current structure of the quota system is maintained or cancelled/reformed, it will not conflict with any article of the constitution, brothers/sisters! Don’t chase after kites without reading the constitution! We don’t expect such ignorant behavior from future employees of the republic. Read again the articles you’re referencing. You’ll understand the mistake. What the Honorable Prime Minister has said is entirely possible to do. Come, let us wait for something good.

Five. Being with the wrong person creates far more loneliness than being alone.

Six. Waking from sleep, I listened to Raga Manj Khamaj in Anoushka Shankar’s voice.

If someone could bind the hundred years of tumult of the great ocean in such a way… didn’t Gurudev write something about libraries! Such an extraordinary melody gives joy equal to a library of books, happiness equal to prayer. I don’t know how much one should write for such a tune to be appropriate. A person becomes this worthy of reverence too! Ah! So beautiful!! And they say God lives in the sky!!

Seven. Delhi brought us Nizamuddin Auliya. Among all the versions of this song on YouTube, to my ears, the Fakira Band’s rendition is the best!
Thank you, Timirda! But the finest version I’ve ever heard was sung by my younger brother Fakir Saheb from Jahangirnagar University,
which isn’t on YouTube. This mad soul doesn’t even know what he is!! Among those whose memory fills me with love and reverence, making my head bow in humility,
Fakir is one of them. Brother,
for a long time now, I’ve been desperately longing to hear this song in your voice! Music brings such peace, profound peace! Could you sing it and record it for me?

Eight. First deserve that ‘extra care’, then expect it. As a human being, you deserve only basic ‘care’ from another human being. Do remember, no one ever walks
an extra mile for you without some extra reasons unless and until you are a
friend, a dear one, a relative, a colleague or a family member to them. Ask
your heart, aren’t you in the same boat as well? Be honest, dear; of course,
you are! Accept it. Rather, be thankful to everyone around you for everything
you are getting from them though you neither deserve nor demand it. Well, maybe
you need sunshine at a cold night for keeping yourself warm, but why should the
sun shine for you at night without any reason? Don’t claim it, if you don’t
deserve or can’t earn it. Come on! Be practical! Life is as it is, not as you
dream it to be. A scorpion always stung, still stings, will sting forever. If
you expect it to kiss you, it’s your problem, not its!

And another thing to remember:
Please please please never ever market or publicize your emotions and sorrows.
Trust me, almost no one really cares. Who cares, can do nothing for you; who
can do something for you, does not truly care. As only you have walked in your
shoes, only you know how they comfort or pain. Then what’s the use of revealing
your pains to others, especially to a wrong person? It will only make you more
vulnerable. People expect only a smile from you, not your tears. Maybe your
tears mean a lot to you, but to others, they mean nothing! People are already
busy with their own tears; no time to care about anyone else’s tears! Showing
your tears to them is just killing your time. You think, your own pains are the
greatest pains on earth, you are the unluckiest creature in the world, you
deserve (!) immediate attention, let the world stop moving for the time being
for solving your problem, bla bla bla…………. Hey kid! Stop whining!
Enough is enough! You pain is ONLY your pain, you problem is ONLY your problem,
your emotion is ONLY your emotion, your suffering is ONLY your suffering! When
you suffer, only you know how it hurts! So, the better approach is, keep trying
to get rid of it, or show them the meaning of being extra-kind to you. At the
end of the day, everyone is a stranger to you except yourself.

Nine. Most people, wanting to get something without giving anything, end up getting nothing at all. To obtain what isn’t rightfully yours, you must give something—worldly or otherwise. What is precious is never freely given. What comes for free is never precious. My own experience tells me that whatever I needed, whoever I got it from, I had to give them something they needed in return. Until I understood this, I remained perpetually foolish and defeated. So, is there really no such thing as a free lunch? There is. What’s it like? When you need fish and rice, you’ll get greens and rice. Free! Yes, you won’t die, you’ll survive alright, but not in the way you want to live. You must till your own soil. You have a goat. To save money on buying an ox, you keep trying to make the goat do the work, failing repeatedly, and beating the poor goat constantly. Think about it—goats can’t plow fields, so what fault is it of the goat’s?

Ten. : Bow your head, practice bowing your head!
Come on, brother, if a baby doesn’t cry, even the mother won’t give milk.
: A baby cries because the baby has no other option. But I do! Without bowing my head, I can live joyfully with less.

Eleven. Those who fear solitude become solitary before anyone else. The more one fears losing, the more one loses. On the other hand, when someone wants to walk alone, it seems the entire world tugs at their hand. Let those who want to be alone, be alone. Let those who want to isolate others, isolate them. Those who are essential for navigating this world belong to neither of these two groups. Living in turmoil is more painful than living without love.

Twelve. Your emotions, your traditions, your rules, your religious practices, your hobbies and pleasures—fulfill them all with your own money, not someone else’s. When it comes to spending money, fools squander their father’s wealth thinking of their father as their own. Father’s money is father’s money; my money is my money and father’s money.

Thirteen. The less one has, the more one shows off.

Fourteen. First, learn to earn. Then, earn to learn.

Fifteen. Seeing some aggressive posts by Indian friends caused me great distress, prompting me to write these words: Learn to be heroic. A hero doesn’t need to dance in celebration over the corpse of the defeated, brother! History bears witness that heroes haven’t always won. But the hero’s demeanor has remained heroic till the end. You have won—congratulations for that. Put your hand on your heart and tell me, did this victory come in a carefree “came, saw, conquered” style? Didn’t your heart tremble until the last ball? You’ve won—good. You’re celebrating—even better. But here’s the thing: to elevate your own mother, you don’t need to diminish someone else’s mother. Your mother cooked pulao and korma today; perhaps my mother could only manage greens and rice within her means today—but she’s still my mother. Your mother’s prosperity brings you as much pride as my mother’s poverty brings me. Why unnecessarily hurt me to mask your own cowardice?

Sixteen. Ah, Sagnik! Tell him… that indeed—those who sing, receive love.

Seventeen. Thank you, mom, for being very very very strict in my childhood. (I said it before—there’s no medicine like a beating. Kids—either they’ll behave properly, or they’ll get slapped. Simple!)

Eighteen. Even if you call me bad, I must call you good, because the shortage of good people in this world hasn’t yet become so severe, no matter how good you might be!

Nineteen. A chained dog is happier than a married man as the dog knows he is chained.

Twenty. Sometimes it leaps, sometimes it gasps.

Twenty-one. Success requires stubbornness, patience, and hard work more than inspiration. I know some people who are simultaneously inspired and lazy, or energetic in the wrong pursuits. Such inspiration can give nothing to anyone. Inspiration isn’t something to swallow whole—it’s something to put to use. (I intend to write about this in detail someday.)

Sushanta Paul·Thursday, March 21, 2019·5 minutes

Reflection: Three Hundred Thirty-Seven

…………………………………

One. When a weapon comes into hand, intelligence diminishes from the head. Naturally. One who holds a weapon can simply wield it for self-defense! What need is there to exercise intelligence! Pulling the trigger is easier than thinking!
But one who has no weapon must use his mind for self-defense! There is no other way! Consequently, his brain sharpens day by day.

Two. Before dancing to the tune of the helpless, consider your own security first. Because when you fall into a pit, the first kick you’ll receive will come from them. The more you stand beside the helpless, the more your own future becomes endangered. The main problem with standing beside helpless people is that since all helpless people are confused and impulsive, they can harm you at any time, or they can stand beside your enemy. Generally, helpless people have no fixed ideals, party, opinion, or character. If you’re born, you must die—this is true; and if you do good, you’ll have to die several times before actually dying—this is an even greater truth. Those who never help anyone are the safest of all. Those for whom you’ll bare your chest will be the first to plunge a knife into that chest… Those who haven’t had to go through this experience won’t understand the meaning of this post.

Three. Never put yourself in new danger by listening to someone who wasn’t beside you during your time of peril.

Four. By the grace of Android—results come to naught!
Don’t believe it? Look at the SSC and HSC exam results, you’ll understand. Keep money in your pocket—your own, not your child’s.

Five. To know how a man really is, you must marry him. To know how a woman really is, you must marry her. You can never know the real face of anyone until and unless you marry them.

Six. I’m reading Somoresh’s writing about Humayun. It feels wonderful to read good words about one beloved person from the pen of another beloved person.

Seven. Finishing well is more important than starting well. Witnessed it again! France’s victory against Croatia with two goalkeepers against a goalkeeper-less (!) Croatia!! The World Cup went to the land of Sunil’s paintings, the land of poetry!
Congratulations, France! Love, Croatia! Feeling very sorry for you. Only your result is rewarded, not your efforts! After everything, winning is what matters!

Eight. The more income increases, the less one eats. I’m thinking, I’ll reduce eating to increase income!

Nine. Inspiration doesn’t accomplish much unless you yourself start the work and keep doing it despite hundreds of adversities!
Still, I’ll say, if you’re going to read five inspirational pieces in life, consider reading the story of Belgium’s Romelu Lukaku’s transformation from nobody to somebody. It will serve you in life.

Ten. Those who are beating you now—when they were beating us, you stood beside them. Now you want us beside you. Our indifference appears to you as evidence of our bad mentality. Doesn’t the fact that we’re not beside them now prove that we hold a more elevated mentality than yours? (Soliloquy of a tribal chief during some tribal war several hundred years before Christ)

Eleven. We are such a cute nation. Those who have worked for us, who work for us, who will work for us—we abuse them, we hurt them. We stab them in the back and say, “Brother, bare your chest for me!”

There’s no point thinking about all this. We will never change. Rather, let us listen to ghazals. Ghazals are better than curses.

Twelve. Before following anyone, you must know how to follow. If you want someone’s current lifestyle, you must follow not their present lifestyle, but the lifestyle from their past that helped them achieve their current one. Becoming something great overnight doesn’t mean becoming great in one night—it means becoming great in one night through the devotion of countless nights.

Thirteen. “Brother, you call me on my birthday to wish me—how do you remember the date?”

“If I don’t remember your birthday, my family will fall apart!”

“What do you mean?” “Your birthday and my wife’s birthday are on the same date!”

Hahahaha………… No one else will call like this anymore. No one will stand in front of the canteen at Fazle Rabbi Hall in Dhaka Medical and say, “Sushanta, are you in Dhaka? Come to Fazle Rabbi Hall!”

Polash bhai has left us. However painful it may be, we must believe this too from now on. How many things we must believe to keep living! My head went blank when I heard the news. I spent such beautiful times with bhai. All the memories are coming back one by one. Polash bhai is gone—do I have to accept this too???

This is how people become memories! A living, breathing person just became a photograph like this!

Sometimes bhai would call. Just like that, to check up on me. Just a few days ago he called and said, “I see Lalmonirhat too, I’ll come visit there, we’ll meet. I’ll take you around all of Kurigram and Lalmonirhat. You couldn’t make it to Jessore, could you!” ……. Bhai won’t come anymore. Since morning, Polash bhai’s face has been fixed before my eyes!

I just can’t think of anything. Looking at bhai’s photos, I still find it hard to believe that bhai is gone. No one should have any anger toward such a person. Still, if anyone harbors even the slightest anger toward Polash bhai, please forgive him. If you must curse someone, curse me instead. I’m willing to take punishment for him. We will all become photographs one day, become just a number in someone’s phone. That day could be today. May God keep us alive as good people.

Fourteen. The person you introduce your friend to today—you’ll see, tomorrow your friend will drift away from you because of that very person. Your friend will consider that third person closer than you. Having connected through your hand, your friend will reduce contact with you while maintaining contact with them. People are more enthusiastic about making strangers close than keeping their own close. And if that third person happens to be of the opposite gender to your friend, this distance becomes almost inevitable! (Boys often push away friends for girls. Do girls do the same?)

And a certain coldness will develop between you and that third person too.

(This has happened to me countless times in my life.)

Thought: Three hundred thirty-eight

…………………………………

One. O God! May the bodies of all the world’s beloved women suddenly awaken at the right moment, like Tony Kroos’s feet!

Two more hours. I’m staring at Cristiano Ronaldo’s feet……..

Two. If a Koushiki were to mistakenly come and hold my hand,
to walk on new paths I could say
‘no’ to all old relationships! ……….I know,
I’m thinking wrongly. Alas, the sorrow of being unable to make certain mistakes never leaves us in a lifetime!

Three. The basic difference between men & women: For sex, Men
need a place, Women need a reason.

Four. Some overrated things:

Wedding photography

Facebook friendship

Virginity . . . . . . . . Add
more…………..

(Some things we make excessive fuss about beyond necessity:
Wedding photography,
Facebook friendship,
Chastity . . . . . . . . You too
add something.)

Five. Winner’s smile always talks louder than loser’s shout. Winners
speak by actions, losers speak by words. Let’s smile while they’re shouting.
Always only losers have to shout. Winning is sexier than playing well. Go,
Brazil, Go!!!

At the end of the day, Brazil
remains Brazil!!! That’s the beauty!!! Well done, Champs!!! Thumbs up for the
Costa Rican goalkeeper!!! When life gives you an extra chance, prove your extra
worth!!! The game is still ON!!!

It’s not a goal, it’s a feeling!!!
Love you, Coutinho!!!

Can you hide shame by hiding your face,
you fool?

Feeling the old rhythm of Brazil!
Yes, it’s the style we’re familiar with! Let’s shout…….Go, go, Brazil! Good
luck, boys!

I had nothing to do, my dear……I had nothing to do. I watched and watched, you scored the goal…………
Listen to music,
ease your anger. You know,
if you get angry, you’ve already lost. (Though you were already losing before getting angry!)

Dear Brazil supporters, even if Brazil wins tomorrow’s match, will you feel as much joy as you’re feeling now? You won’t. Do you know why? We are more anti-Argentina supporters than Brazil supporters;
we are more anti-Brazil supporters than Argentina supporters.

Six. For the first time in my life, I played matchmaker at a wedding. I seek everyone’s blessings for my new career. Please don’t leave without writing
‘matchmaker brother’
in the comments. The other day when my friend shared a photo from his matchmaking, those who left quietly without writing ‘matchmaker brother’ have all developed deep affairs with the big bathroom. Kidding apart, our best wishes remain for the newlyweds.

Seven. “A dog
will always bite below the knee,
because a dog can never rise higher than that.”

Eight. How do you recognize the vulgar?
Go to the comment threads of various posts on Prothom Alo or any popular page. Read the comments,
observe the mentality of educated/semi-educated fools,
and come to know Bangladesh. Come and see to what depths of vulgarity we can descend. Visit the walls of any major celebrity’s page and you’ll find plenty of vulgarity there too. We are foolish, vulgar,
hypocritical, ungrateful, envious,
thankless, judgmental. Some passages from Bangabandhu’s Unfinished Memoirs about the character of Bangladeshis come to mind repeatedly, unbidden.

During this World Cup football, you can very easily identify some vulgar people from your friend list and follower list. A match is on. You post something about the game, players, or the match. The vulgar ones won’t comment about the game,
players, or the match. How will they comment instead? They’ll attack you personally. Why?
Because they can never become like you. This is called the rage of the incompetent. In their comments, they’ll irrelevantly drag in some achievement of yours. Why? Because
it’s impossible for them to achieve that. Simple. Seeing what’s happening in the harem, the eunuchs will inevitably get angry. Natural. Read the book ‘Eunuch History.’ Even then, most eunuchs were forcibly castrated, so there was a suppressed rage within them. And us?
No one castrated us. Due to the degradation of our thoughts and actions, this is the wretched state of our condition and position!
Even then we rage, and that rage is not at ourselves but at others! You won’t find another species like this anywhere in the world. One who cannot vent his anger on himself
is utterly weak. Unfriend the vulgar ones from your list,
block them. It’s better to be alone than to be with the vulgar. I’m a supporter of the Brazil team in this World Cup football. I have passion for the game,
but it never reaches the level of senseless madness. Speaking completely consciously, if someone told me, “Pay 500 taka and Brazil will win the cup,”
I wouldn’t pay it. Brazil’s victory brings me no personal or national benefit. It’s better to eat fuchka with that money. I’m emotional,
but not insane. Yes,
if Bangladesh were playing in the World Cup football, I would have paid that money even by borrowing. Many times after our cricket victories I’ve fed everyone at home or office sweets to their heart’s content. Only for one’s own country can one become mad,
crazy, intoxicated with everything. This country feeds me, clothes me,
keeps me alive. I watch games purely for pleasure; when Bangladesh plays, that pleasure is accompanied by madness.

My own cousin lives in India. After India’s hard-fought, barely-scraped victory in the Bangladesh-India T20 match, he said some unsavory things about Bangladesh. After giving him a fitting reply, I blocked him on Facebook. I made it crystal clear that he should never attempt to contact me again in this lifetime, and I won’t either. He’s one of those shallow-minded smart boys of this generation. So when he can’t hold his ground in an argument, he starts spouting nonsense. It’s better to keep such ill-mannered people at a distance. For two days now, I’ve been witnessing the vulgarity and filth from some emotionally-charged cute Bangladeshis, and I’m not surprised. They’re attacking me and my position unnecessarily, hurling indecent words. If you want to speak, talk about the game, the players, the match. Attack my post’s arguments and demolish them completely. I’ll welcome it. But why this vulgarity? Have I attacked you personally? (Of course, I don’t even have time to count you, and even if I did, I wouldn’t attack you personally—it’s against my nature. Actually, I don’t need to resort to personal attacks to survive.) Why are you doing it? When people lack brains, they resort to personal attacks. Why do you drag my BCS exam ranking into every one of my posts in such an unseemly manner without any reason? That’s my providence, brother!… Does it burn you up? If it burns, then do something worthwhile. What’s the point of just commenting? A true son proves through action, a fool’s son just talks.

To the vulgar ones saying I understand less about sports—you’re absolutely right. Because I haven’t spent my life wallowing in sports alone, I am Sushanta Paul, and you are my follower. Is that understood, or not? I’ve banned many vulgar people from my page. I’ll unban them again in a couple of days. Why, you ask? It’s a game. Those vulgar creatures will come back to my wall, see my posts—silently or loudly. Love me or hate me… but you cannot ignore me. Guru Shah Rukh is always right, at least in my case—was, is, and will be. It’s my challenge… to myself! I’m friendly, but that doesn’t mean I’m your friend. Learn to understand your limits. A friend means a real-life friend; Facebook friendship is a fake thing. Whether you come to my wall or not, I don’t care.

You respect me, you’re my fan, you listen to my speeches, you read my writings… you do all this because you enjoy doing it. None of it affects me in the slightest. If you act vulgar, I’ll ban you straight away, and then unban you again. Why? As I said, your shameless return entertains me, inspires me. “You’ve banned such-and-such ID of mine, no problem. Just know this… blah blah blah.” Inbox chronicles. He can’t stand me, yet he can’t stay away from my wall. Isn’t it cute? Well, why are we such spineless fools? I’ll end with a quote from Guru Cristiano Ronaldo: Your love makes me strong, your hate makes me unstoppable.

Reflection: Three hundred forty-nine

…………………………………

One. Bratina,
Parlina! Come on, brothers, let’s go!
Dear Brazil, we missed your original flavour. It’s disappointing. Best match so
far: Ger-Mex match! If Brazil or Argentina had to face Mexico, God would have
to receive more prayers & tears! Brazil and Argentina are brothers, and Germany too seems to have had no appetite for a feast!

Two. Brazil National Football Team vs Switzerland National Kabaddi Team!

It’s the Brazil Style! Go, Brazil,
Go!!

Three. When a team lacks an extraordinary finisher, to win they must play as eleven. Lovely game between Germany and Mexico!
Thumbs up for Ochoa!
You are beautiful, man!
Fingers crossed for the second half!

Well deserved defeat, Germany! Well
earned victory, Mexico! Lovely match! Thank you, boys, for keeping it alive
till the end! Mexico, loved your defense! Loved your goalkeeper! Ochoa is a
masterpiece! Hats off! Had you an excellent finisher like Ronaldo, you could
score 2 more for sure! Now fingers crossed for the BraSwi match!!!

Four. “Could one of you give me a shroud!” How did you manage to write such a wonderfully cruel line, Samaresh?
I bow to you and think, ah,
I could have spent this worthless life beneath your feet!
I read “Clouds in the Moonlit Rain.” A deeply melancholic novel. To those sons and daughters who carry the entire family’s burden on their shoulders, I say: if you have the chance to read only ten Bengali novels in your life,
I would ask you to keep this book on your reading list. My heart is breaking with tears. I’m weeping too. I last felt this way after watching Ritwik Ghatak’s
“The Cloud-Capped Star.”

Five. Even the most truthful boy becomes a liar when he comes into contact with girls. The reverse is also true.

Six. Because I support Brazil, my salary at work has increased manifold. What have you gained in life by supporting Argentina?
Has Argentina given jobs to the unemployed?
Or raised salaries for the employed? Brazil has given us everything,
but what has Argentina given you? We eat Brazil’s salt, so we sing Brazil’s praises; we’re even ready to commit murder for Brazil! But what’s the reason for your blind devotion to Argentina?
This respect you show me,
the love you give,
the following,
the reading—I’m still alive washing down all this!
When occasionally you threaten to unfollow,
disrespect, show hatred,
don’t you have even a little compassion for this poor soul? You call me an idol or whatever you know, and if I don’t comply with that, I’ll simply die!
If you don’t see my posts, I’ll sit here committing suicide by drowning myself in Sprite!
Please please pleeeease, my male and
female well-wishers,
never say such things again,
it strikes right to the heart! If you don’t visit my wall, I’ll become a street beggar!

Seven. Eid means joy, Eid means celebration. Today’s match, won after so much struggle, is an Eid gift for Argentina’s supporters. The heartfelt emotions of Argentina’s fans move us to tears again and again. I know, perhaps today the boy will remain unemployed and the girl will be married off elsewhere—everywhere except in Humayun Ahmed’s novels, this is how it has always been and will continue to be; yet… there was no falseness in the girl’s love! The girl will continue loving just like this, and the tissue paper business will keep growing.

Iceland, we love your defense, we love your goalkeeper. Thank you for the lovely game! Brothers, I take my hat off to you. Cheers!!

Dear Messi, Eid Mubarak. Come, let us embrace. Watching you today kept reminding me of that friend of mine who faced the BCS interview board five times but couldn’t get the job due to bad luck. I know, penalty shots and women’s hearts—both are quite puzzling, but what about those free kicks? Chaudhury saheb, you have to understand, free kicks aren’t that free after all! Argentina’s supporters! You’ve had a narrow escape today! Everyone celebrate together with cake and Coke! Thank you. Do come again.

Messi, Neymar—they used to play well, now they act well.

Eight. In our time (2002), the HSC pass rate was 27.09%, when it wasn’t yet the era of “buy noodles get bowl free, sit for exams get A+ free.” Ah, I too am part of that 27.09%!! How wonderful that Bangladesh has been freed from the hands of this incompetent generation. Now everyone in this country is so very brilliant! Eid Mubarak.

Nine. There’s a quote by Cristiano Ronaldo that I really love: “You will go and say that I have a big head, but when you’re at the top, it’s normal that you’re criticised. … I am the best player in history, in both good and bad times.” Where are those people who say pride goeth before a fall? Oh please, can humility protect donkeys and stupid people from downfall? Rather, let me correct this: the pride of the incompetent is the root of the incompetent’s downfall.

Ten. The person who was once desperate to build relationships becomes desperate to break them! The same person! But why? The pull of the new? Or the allure of some old unfulfilled longing? Or because there’s nothing new left to discover in the old that has become the present? She has gone. It’s not that I desperately wanted to hold her back. I let her go easily. Then why does my heart ache with such emptiness for her? Men don’t cry, they say! Who says this? Send them to any man who has truly loved! Humans live in opposite worlds. They have to live in opposite worlds.

Eleven. Ah, Sumona Hoque! Do you remember the jingles in her voice? All those sparkling ads from our childhood! ☺️ (I’ve shared the link in the comment thread.) This song (On this enchanting night, secretly the two of us…) makes you feel her presence! How many thousands of times I’ve listened to it! My childhood crush!

Twelve. At the ugly person’s shop, I wait to become beautiful.

Thirteen. “I lit the lamp of vision and searched for you.” What an incredibly vibrant song!!
Ah, what wonderful songs were created in those days!
(I’m sharing some more beloved old songs in the comments.)

Reflection: Three hundred forty

…………………………………

One. A people who assume that even a girl’s laugh means she’s fallen in love with them will naturally mistake anyone’s friendly behavior as intimate companionship.

Two. Sometimes the wrong person will deliver you to exactly the right place.

Three. There’s no such thing as a “wife”—wife is a media creation.

Four. The more I know about the boys, the more I find myself an angel. The more I know about the girls, the more I find myself an idiot.

Five. You could commit murder with a cool head, but you couldn’t get married. During marriage, the unnecessary torment of irrelevant people will inevitably unsettle you.

Six. If you want free milk, go to the cow, not the milkman.*

*Terms and conditions apply. What terms? You must first buy the cow with money or something in exchange, you must care for it. Also remember: even a purchased cow doesn’t give milk joyfully—you need to know the technique of milking. Give the cow time, and you’ll get milk. Even if you devote your entire life to a bull, you’ll get nothing but dung.

Seven. The Uttam immersion continues!
Watched Shankhobela (1966). Lata-Manna’s “Ke prothom kache esheche” and Lata’s “Aj mon cheyeche”—both songs are from this film. Then watched Nagar Darpane (1975). Good story. I felt I found a bit of myself in this film. Now watching Jodi Jantam (1974). Soumitra is also in this film! To my knowledge, there are only five films where both Uttam Kumar and Soumitra Chattopadhyay appear together. Jodi Jantam (1974) is one of them. The Uttam immersion will continue! Either I’ll remain alone, or be with something worthwhile! The company of the ordinary makes people ordinary.

“Main shayar to nahin.” I’ve shared another wonderful song from this film in the comments. Let sorrows float away on melodies.

Eight. A kiss—that momentary pleasure—even this can’t be demanded from a stranger at first meeting. People get free kisses through so much pretense! (Of course, paid kisses are a different matter!) And proper career planning can bring lifelong happiness!—how do you suddenly demand this from a stranger at first meeting? (And that too for free?) What is this nation to do with such expectant, thick-headed, senseless, innocent bulls!

Nine. I’m watching Uttam-Supriya’s Surjyashikha (1963). In one scene of the movie, Uttam Kumar (Dr. Dipta Roy) happens to visit Supriya Devi (Achena Bose)’s house. (They weren’t in love yet.) In a corner of Supriya Devi’s drawing room was a mandolin, which she had bought intending to learn to play, but never did. So when Supriya Devi went into the inner room, Uttam Kumar began to play exquisite melodies on the mandolin, which enchanted Supriya Devi and drew her to him. From their conversation we learn that Uttam Kumar used to play the mandolin as a hobby. Watching this, it struck me—ah, if I had gone to wait in some such Supriya Devi’s drawing room, and there had been any musical instrument other than drums, I would have had no way at all to enchant the heroine!

Ten. From yesterday I watched: Ustad Hotel (2012), Borat (2006), Tree Without Leaves (1986), Shesh Onko (1963), Chiriakhana (1967), Piyasa (1957). Now I’m watching: Surjyashikha (1963). (The spelling of the name appears as ‘Surjya’. The rule that ya-fola and ref cannot sit together with any letter in Bengali spelling—this rule didn’t exist then.)

Eleven. Bengalis—want to taste honey without giving anything, want to taste honey without offering anything!

Twelve. While studying at Chittagong College, driven by an immense passion for the Bengali language, I bought Haricharan Bandyopadhyay’s ‘Bangiya Shabdakosh’ (2 volumes). I was in Inter First Year then. I still remember, when buying it, the shopkeeper at Genuine Library in Chittagong’s Andarkilla asked, “Are you buying this for the college library?” “No, for myself!” Hearing this, he exclaimed “Whaaaat? What will you do with this book?” and stared at me with wide eyes. People aren’t used to seeing or accepting anything different. When I was spending money on such an expensive ‘unnecessary’ book at that age, Mother asked no questions. I had told her, “Ma, I really need this book. I won’t buy anything this Puja. Give me that money to buy this book.” Mother smiled and said, “Buy the book first, let Puja come, we’ll see.” (I learned later that Mother had taken money from Father to buy a sari she liked at that time; instead of buying the sari, she put that money in my hands.) I would turn the pages of that dictionary, spend hours diving into that ocean of words, and think with infinite wonder—how does someone become so persevering! How much labor the compiler put into such work! I would always remain reverent toward his scholarship. Such people were heroes in my eyes, celebrities, brilliant minds. No matter how externally attractive someone might be, if they had nothing much in their head, I felt not the slightest fascination or respect for them—still don’t. Even from that time, the arrogance and jealousy of the incompetent has made me laugh! Inspired by Rabindranath, Haricharan Bandyopadhyay had accomplished such a nearly impossible task. Bengalis owe him an infinite debt. The story written in the shadow of his life—Buddhadeb Basu’s ‘Ekti Jibon O Koyekti Mrityu’ (1960)—has been captured on celluloid by Raja Mitra. Ekti Jibon (1988) was his first work. Soumitra’s magnificent performance showing one man’s dedication, sacrifice and struggle left me overwhelmed! Complete devotion to a dream makes a person utterly detached from the surrounding world—one by one the deaths of daughter, son, wife could not stop his journey; he seemed to live solely for the fulfillment of his dream. Now I’m watching Adalat O Ekti Meye (1982).

Thirteen. Nutan Pata (1969)
I watched it. I haven’t seen many films this fluid. The feeling I get watching Pather Panchali (1955), Subarnarekha (1965), Aparajito (1956) — that same feeling, even today… I felt exactly that while watching ‘Nutan Pata.’ I didn’t even know the name of this film, so steeped in simplicity, until today! The truth is, precious gems remain hidden. This film by Dinen Gupta won the National Film Award. A very curious coincidence occurred — I didn’t know beforehand, yet somehow it just happened!
Today, the two films that have etched themselves in my memory come from the same household — stories from the writer husband’s ‘own’ writer wife!
When this struck me, I was quite amused. Nutan Pata (1969) was made from Pratibha Basu’s story, and Ekti Jibon (1988) from Buddhadeb Basu’s story. Both films are masterpieces! Even thinking of such a couple brings my head down in reverence! By the way, after watching Adalat O Ekti Meye (1982), I didn’t feel it was the kind of thing you’d regret missing. Sleep, waking from sleep… I’m coming!

Thought: Three hundred forty-one

…………………………………

One. The more care, the more anguish. That is what love means.

Two. I watched A Peck on the Cheek (2002). A Tamil film. Original title Kannathil Muthamittal; written by cinema-guru Mani Ratnam, his filmography, his direction. Such extraordinary work, worth experiencing! Do watch it, you’ll like it. I see many people asking for movie download links in comment threads. Seriously, why are you all so hopelessly lazy? What harm would it do to be a little smart! What are torrents for?

Now I’ll watch the Malayalam film Manichithrathazhu (1993). We can’t think the way they do, which is why we can’t create anything close to what they make! The first step of beautiful work is beautiful thinking. One who doesn’t know how to think beautifully cannot work beautifully.

Three. I watched Mucize (2015). Loved it immensely. There is infinite power in love — power that makes possible even what seems quite impossible! The film’s final dialogue has etched itself in my mind… ah!

Mother: Aziz, you can speak! Thank God!

Aziz: Mother, I can speak.

………………………………………………………………

Father: You’ve completely recovered now! Did you have surgery?

Aziz: No, father. I… (looking at his wife) I fell in love with my wife!
I was stunned by the performance of whoever played Aziz! Ah, if only we had such an actor!!!
Now I’m watching La La Land (2016).

Four. I invite you to watch Mayurakshi (2017). In this film I found my father. Perhaps you will too. How Soumitra remains this great even at this age, I truly cannot fathom. None of us are that smart, nor will we ever be.

Five. Even those record companies that made handsome profits by publishing and selling records of Nazrul’s songs—those very companies offered not a drop of assistance during his darkest hour, nor did they even inquire after him. The same can be said of those publishers who transformed their own financial fortunes by selling his books.
—Golam Murshid,
The Rebel Weary of War:
A Biography of Nazrul, p. 481

I mentioned earlier that after Nazrul suddenly fell ill with such a persistent and incurable disease, the officials of the gramophone companies and the artists showed cruel indifference toward the poet. From what transpired in the gramophone record industry during the nearly two decades following the poet’s illness, it would not be wrong to conclude that the lesser and emerging lyricists and composers of that time actually breathed sighs of relief when lyricist-composer Nazrul fell ill. —Ibid.,
p. 497

Happy birthday,
Nazrul. Don’t harbor any pain in your heart over our behavior—it’s because I love you so much that I strike you! Without ingratitude, where would our very existence be,
tell me! You were moving in such a way that no one noticed our movement at all, so we were quite pleased when you stopped!
How much profit this brings—Time itself settles that account,
has settled it, will settle it!

Six. Goats need fences, sir.

Seven. Now watching……Memsaheb
(1983) Next I’ll watch………Agnishwar (1975) If sleep doesn’t come………Chalchitra (1981) Movies to relieve the fatigue of reading and writing.

After many days, I wept terribly watching a movie. Agnishwar
(1975).
I hadn’t seen this movie all these years!

Watching, Teen Bhubaner Parey (1969)
(Seeing Tanuja,
my head spins;
tempted to let my head spin even more, I keep watching with great attention………)
Will watch, Joy Jayanti
(1971) After my yesterday’s post, has anyone watched Agnishwar
(1975)? How did you like it? If you haven’t seen it, you absolutely must. In my judgment, ‘Agnishwar’ is one of Uttam Kumar’s top 5 movies.

Eight. The rasmanjari from Gaibandha Mishti Bhandar, (possibly) Bangladesh’s finest rasmanjari—I can no longer eat it like before,
I managed only half a kilo in one sitting. Ah,
nectar! Such a small life—one could easily spend it just eating sweets! What do you say!

Nine. The 5 best non-Bengali, non-Hindi Indian movies I’ve seen: Drishyam (2013) (Even now, thinking of this movie takes my breath away………that humans can make such movies!) Charlie (2015) Anbe Sivam (2003)
Premam (2015) Pushpak (1987)……….Now
I’ll watch Sairat (2016).

Ten. To have anything in the world, you need either money or a
reason. If you don’t have any of those 2, don’t expect to have it.

Eleven. One from whom I have never benefited at all
is good. One from whom I am benefiting less than before is bad; therefore,
strike him down.

You’ll find no nation anywhere like this,

Such a mine of ingrates is my birthland!

Twelve. I heard
Jiya Jale performed by the Berklee Indian Ensemble of Berklee College of Music.

I think I had read in Rabindranath’s Chhinnapattra ………………a wild mountain girl with an irresistible aquiline nose…………some such passage. I have fallen in love with this enchanting girl in the song with her wild long nose, and want to fall deeper…………. I’ve listened to this song three times now, still listening,
and keep consoling myself…………come on, Bappi!
She’s not yours…………accept my salutations, O Goddess!

Alizée! My teenage crush! Ah,
how many countless times I must have watched and heard her sing ‘La Isla Bonita’
in those days!

The night has deepened, the world sleeps. How many sleepless nights have passed listening to this song over and over…..I’ll listen now,
why does obstruction arise as one departs, like Tapan Chowdhury’s song…..old songs bring old memories.

Thirteen. When the battle is with your own people,
it’s essential to lose. When the battle is with yourself,
it’s essential to win.

Fourteen. I can go

I can walk away in any direction

But, why would I go?

— Shakti Chattopadhyay

I can give

I can give time to anyone

But, why would I give?

— Sushanta Pal.

Understanding this ‘why’ is what we call maturity.

Fifteen. In Pandit Tushar Datta’s voice, “My desires remain unfulfilled as the night passes”……… To survive, we Bengalis need our Nazrul. Ah, what grandeur! What enchantment!

Sixteen. Donkey with donkey,
lion with lion. Walking with donkeys, whatever else may happen,
becoming a lion is never possible.

Seventeen. There are certain extraordinary people, at the mere thought of whom my head instinctively bows to the dust of their feet. How much joy and wonder they have kept us alive with! I have a kind of blind devotion to such people, so even the slightest criticism from some overly learned insect makes my blood boil. Seeing them, one realizes that practice alone isn’t enough, some talent is also needed. One genius is worth more than a hundred thousand scholars. Love. Gratitude. Salutations. Happy birthday, Master Satyajit!

Eighteen. Watched Veer-Zaara.
Wonderful touch!
Some dialogues really shake you up!
Quite a good movie for exercising the heart.

Nineteen. To get something valuable, you have to give up something valuable.

Twenty. Most people are happy to find someone they can treat rudely at will, and in response to such behavior they’ll always get only polite, meek whimpering. Even when they behave like brutes themselves, they only watch the other person’s reaction,
unwilling to think about their own actions. Whatever they may say,
people prefer spineless, agreeable friends.

Thought: Three hundred forty-two

…………………………………

One. I keep listening to that song over and over—”Yaad koi baat bigad jaaye”—and I keep telling myself again and again… no, she didn’t love me, and I didn’t love her either, I don’t love her, and I never will. Does any of this make sense? Does she still listen to this song when she’s feeling low, just like before? Does she keep playing it over and over?… And then send it to her husband saying, “Here, you angry monkey, listen to this!”

Let her do whatever she wants! What’s it to me! Why am I even thinking about all this? Strange! Why am I so shameless?

Two. Be wary of two kinds of people: first, those who speak using only their tongue; second, those who listen using only their ears.

Three. For those of us who think becoming a BCS cadre is everything in life—here’s my respect, love, and best wishes for Subir Sir. I’m taking two days off to come to Chittagong for a week. Reading about this man from my region made me bow my head in reverence. I felt like sharing it with you all.

Four. “E paare mukhar holo keka oi”… Emon, you know, I’m actually afraid to watch or listen to this song of yours! It’s completely intoxicating! I end up listening to it so many times! What a love, I tell you!

This song seems to touch the moist breeze! Both body and soul come alive! The heart yearns for something! Perhaps a drop of rainwater on these lips!

The sky is weeping, eyes are intoxicated, coffee is steaming, khichuri is calling! Ah!

Five. Leo Rojas’s “El Condor Pasa”… Ah! Such a melody is more beautiful than several deaths!

Six. “Dhako jato na noyon du haate”… Ah, Mehdi Hasan! How vibrant he remains… even now! (I’m putting some more favorite songs in his voice in the comments.)

Seven. Toto Cutugno – L’Italiano (1983)

Sit down and listen with the steam of a cup of coffee. The song unfamiliar? No matter! The tune is familiar enough, isn’t it! Still can’t remember? “Nasha ye pyaar ka nasha hai”…

Eight. Even a girl who has romanced 7-8 boys thinks any boy who approaches her first is “bad.”

No. I’m writing in a state of deep irritation. Bangladesh has not yet reached a stage where it properly values prepaid customers. How so? Suppose you order books online. If you pay for the books after receiving them, no problem. You order ten books, perhaps two aren’t available. You receive eight books and pay for those eight. No hassle whatsoever. But if you somehow pay for the books before receiving them, then you’re in for it. They’ll delay sending the books. Not only will they not provide any updates on their own, but when you call them, they’ll act as if you’ve somehow trapped them by paying them money. If some books aren’t in their stock, naturally they’ll send the remaining books without those, and for the money you paid in advance for the unavailable books, you’ll have to call and demand your refund—they won’t call you themselves, because money that reaches someone’s hands becomes theirs. When they finally inform you that they’re returning your money, their manner will make you feel as if they’re doing you some great favor by returning it. Try ordering through the prepaid system. Your experience will be roughly like this. If you pay after receiving the books, you won’t have to say a word; instead, they’ll address you as “sir” while graciously accepting your payment.

My point is, why should I have to provide so many explanations after paying in cash? Did I pay less money? Or did I pay late? I had ordered a collected works from a publisher. I sent the money within minutes, along with my courier address. Then the games began. I’d call them, send messages to their page, and they’d speak as if I’d committed some crime. Believe it or not, I had to send them my address four times! After that, I had to request and remind them at least five times to send the books. They claimed to have forgotten! I’m a book collector, I need these books for my library, I’d be grateful if they’d send the books—I had to say such things politely, despite having paid the full amount long ago! Yet the person who pays after receiving the books doesn’t have to say anything. The one who pays in advance gets caught. This country isn’t a gentleman’s country. Why? Because they’ve already got the money in hand!

There’s more to the story. If you pay before receiving the books, you’ll have to go to the courier service office to collect them yourself, but if you pay after receiving the books, they’ll bring them to you; though the shipping charge is the same in both cases. Yet if you pay after receiving the books, there’s no problem. You can examine whether the books are in proper condition and pay for whatever books you receive. You’ve placed an order but haven’t paid yet, so they themselves will call you very politely and say, “Sir, we couldn’t find such-and-such books, we’ve sent the rest.”

Let me tell you about another problem. If you buy few books, you won’t face much trouble. Many businesses in this country are still not prepared for high-volume sales. When you place larger orders, you should be treated as a valued customer and receive some additional benefits—or at least prompt service, which is your due. But in reality, the opposite happens! You get delayed service, with some mismanagement thrown in, for one simple reason: they’re not prepared to deliver such large quantities of goods. Yet they’re fully prepared to take orders for those large quantities! Can you believe the audacity!

From last Ekushey Book Fair until now, I’ve bought nearly four hundred books online. And buying more books has meant enduring more pain. This is the state of professionalism among some of our country’s businesspeople! In this country, forget about additional benefits for loyal customers—even their basic entitlements aren’t properly honored.

Being a loyal customer simply means extra hassles await you. I’ve been using GP since 2002. All of GP’s offers are either for new users or for those who’ve left their SIMs unused for ages. There’s more to this story. The amount I recharge in one month—many users don’t even recharge a quarter of that in a whole year. Yet because they use less, they get additional benefits from GP that I don’t receive even a fraction of. They call it “incentives.” Bloody ridiculous! The sooner we can break free from this culture, the better. Not everyone is a run-of-the-mill customer, right? Special customers should be treated specially. If a company can’t even provide proper customer service, how will it survive?

Ten. “If it’s not sweet, why speak of Ram…” It’s good to hear something beautiful when you do hear it. Life is short, after all! How many times I’ve heard this said! I feel like spreading good things among everyone, so I’m sharing this. Some clouds pour out the sky, some voices pour out the heart. I bow my head in reverence to that child, setting aside the cap of pride.

Eleven. The Cinematic Orchestra – Arrival of The Birds & Transformation… Listen to this melody. From beginning to end. All the ice that has accumulated in your chest will fall as snow. I promise you this.

Twelve. Some violin melodies are like medicine. Like this one. (Sound of an Angel) Some medicines are like melodies. Like the medicine that father and mother must take. Both are needed—to live! May the creators of such melodies live joyfully forever!

Twelve. God has attached a few such finger fragments to my hands too and sent me to this world. Alas, I could never put that gift to proper use! A Breathtaking Piano Piece – Jervy Hou. I absorbed the melody, set aside my cap. Reverence. Love.

Thirteen. I watch these teenagers. One day they’ll grow up and say to some Sushanta Paul,
“Brother, I’m very talented but suffering from depression. Please teach me how to top the BCS exam.” Bangladesh is raising a generation of foul, dumb, shallow kids. Please, don’t tell me miracles will surely happen and they’ll become something great!
Miracles do happen, true enough, but not every day, not for everyone. Often, miracles happen for reasons, not without cause. Looking at them fills me with pity. (Note: if that advice-seeking text were written in English, it would be horrific to read! These idiots can’t write a single line in proper English, yet they want jobs!)

Fourteen. While listening to “Main Agar Kahoon”… I remembered that right after this movie was released, Om Shanti Om glass ball dolls came out, and they were in huge demand. Wind-up glass ball dolls in various sizes. When you wound them up, Shah Rukh and Deepika would spin hand-in-hand inside the ball, dancing, while this song’s music played. In our gift shop Dobhana, we sold at least a few thousand pieces of these glass ball dolls. Those were the days of talking to customers in a convincing way (sweet-talking them), packing up their purchased gifts, saying thanks with a smile when they left the shop—whether they bought anything or not—and telling them “please come again.” Those were different kinds of days!
Even now, thinking about it sends shivers through me!
Today I understand: the first condition for becoming greater than someone else—you must first present yourself as smaller than them!

Fifteen. Oh,
is he really that talented?
Can he still become a BCS cadre? Huh!

Sixteen.

: How do you like your job, brother?

: Exactly like a job.

: Meaning, good or bad?

: I’m a poor man. Poor people aren’t supposed to have preferences about good or bad. What poor people have is necessity.

Seventeen. Listening to Lata’s voice singing “Agar Tum Na Hote”…
If you weren’t there, beloved,
what meaning would
living have had,
tell me! (That’s what it means, right?
Ah, if only I understood Hindi!
How many sweet songs there are in Hindi! Won’t someone please teach me a little Hindi!)

Eighteen. My younger brother Prashanta bought me a punjabi with his first month’s salary from his new job. Perhaps many of you know him—he writes good poetry.

Nineteen. (In response to public reactions to a piece by Muhammad Zafar Iqbal) Please read the piece ‘once more.’ What exactly is wrong with what the gentleman has said? His argument is transparent, sincere, logical. Many are saying all manner of things about him, which I’ve learned from seeing it on newsfeeds. After Rabindranath Tagore wrote “We are all kings in this kingdom of our king” for this foolish nation, he regrettably never broke down its meaning for us. Alas! A single piece by the gentleman carries far more weight than the cheap copy-paste comments of hundreds of thousands of people like you and me. Among those who still genuinely think about Bangladesh’s welfare, he is one. What he has written is somewhat difficult for people with crude intellects like yours and mine to comprehend. But why are we jumping around in misunderstanding? Is that our culture? We are not merely ungrateful; we are also helpless, and therefore opportunistic. Most helpless people lack any definite character. Pitiably, helpless people often lose their sound judgment as well. I request again, please read the piece ‘once more.’ P.S. Bangladesh is a strange country. Here, no movement happens without a ‘but.’ Why I say this—let that be.

Twenty. The fleeting acquaintance with the driver of the rickshaw I ride is more alive than Facebook friendship.

Thoughts: Three hundred forty-three

…………………………………

One. In case you expect true love and loyalty, don’t marry, have a dog instead!

Two. I am overwhelmed, embarrassed, and irritated by the deluge of your heart-stirring New Year gifts. I apologize and also ask for prayers. Brothers, this time if possible, please send some actual papers. Empty sight alone won’t sustain—one yearns to touch!

P.S. I also receive checks.

Three. Listen to “The Lonely Shepherd” performed by André Rieu and Gheorghe Zamfir, and feel it. Welcome to the world’s festival of joy! (Do listen! I know no question from this video will appear in the BCS exam, but listen anyway.)

Four. Whether the current structure of the quota system is maintained or cancelled/reformed, it will not conflict with any article of the constitution, brothers and sisters! Don’t chase after mirages without reading the constitution! We don’t expect such ignorant behavior from future employees of the Republic. Read again the articles you’re referencing. You’ll understand the mistake. What the Honorable Prime Minister has said is entirely possible to implement. Come, let us wait for something good.

Five. Being with the wrong person creates far more loneliness than being alone.

Six. Upon waking, I listened to Raga Manj Khamaj in Anoushka Shankar’s voice.

If someone could bind and preserve the hundred-year waves of the great ocean like this… Didn’t Gurudev write something about libraries! Such extraordinary music gives the same joy as a library of books, the same peace as prayer. I don’t know how much one should write for such a melody to do it justice. Humans become this worthy of reverence! Ah! So exquisite!! And they say God dwells in heaven!!

Seven. Then came “Delhi mein Nizamuddin Auliya.” Among all the versions of this song on YouTube, to my ears, the one by Fakira Band is the best!
Thank you, Timirda! Though the finest version I’ve heard is by my younger brother Fakir Saheb from Jahangirnagar University,
which isn’t on YouTube. This mad soul doesn’t even know what he is!! Among those whose memory fills me with love and reverence,
Fakir is one. Brother,
I’ve been longing to hear this song in your voice for so long! The peace of song is profound peace! Won’t you sing a bit and send me a recording?

Eight. First deserve that ‘extra-care’, then expect it. As a human being, you deserve only ‘care’ from another human being. Do remember, no one ever walks
an extra-mile for you without some extra-reasons unless and until you are a
friend, a near one, a relative, a colleague or a family member to them. Ask
your heart, aren’t you in the same boat as well? Be honest, dear; of course,
you are! Accept it. Rather, be thankful to everyone around you for everything
you are getting from them though you neither deserve nor demand it. Well, maybe
you need sunshine at a cold night for keeping yourself warm, but why should the
sun shine for you at night without any reason? Don’t claim it, if you don’t
deserve or can’t earn it. Come on! Be practical! Life is as it is, not as you
dream it to be. A scorpion always stung, still stings, will sting forever. If
you expect it to kiss you, it’s your problem, not its!

And another thing to remember:
Please please please never ever market or publicize your emotions and sorrows.
Trust me, almost no one really cares. Who cares, can do nothing for you; who
can do something for you, does not truly care. As only you have walked in your
shoes, only you know how they comfort or pain. Then what’s the use of revealing
your pains to others, especially to a wrong person? It will only make you more
vulnerable. People expect only a smile from you, not your tears. Maybe your
tears mean a lot to you, but to others, they mean nothing! People are already
busy with their own tears; no time to care about anyone else’s tears! Showing
your tears to them is just killing your time. You think, your own pains are the
greatest pains on earth, you are the unluckiest creature in the world, you
deserve (!) immediate attention, let the world stop moving for the time being
for solving your problem, bla bla bla…………. Hey kid! Stop whining!
Enough is enough! You pain is ONLY your pain, you problem is ONLY your problem,
your emotion is ONLY your emotion, your suffering is ONLY your suffering! When
you suffer, only you know how it hurts! So, the better approach is, keep trying
to get rid of it, or show them the meaning of being extra-kind to you. At the
end of the day, everyone is a stranger to you except yourself.

Nine. Most people, wanting to get something without giving anything, end up with nothing at all. To obtain what you are not entitled to, you must give something—material or spiritual. What is precious is never freely given. What comes for free is never precious. My own experience tells me that whatever I needed, whoever gave it to me, I had to give them something they needed in return. Until I understood this, I was always foolish and defeated. So, is there no such thing as a free lunch? There is. What kind? When you need fish and rice, you get greens and rice. Free! Yes, you won’t die, you’ll survive just fine, but not in the way you want to live. You must cultivate your own land. You have a goat. To save money on buying a cow, you keep trying to make do with the goat, but you can’t, and so you keep beating the poor goat. Think about it—you can’t plow fields with a goat, so what fault is it of the goat’s?

Ten. : Bow your head, practice bowing your head! Come on, brother, if the baby doesn’t cry, the mother won’t give milk. : The baby cries because the baby has no other option. But I do! Without bowing my head, I save myself the joy of small victories.

Eleven. Those who fear solitude are the first to become truly alone. The more one fears losing something, the more one loses. Meanwhile, when someone wants to walk alone, it seems the whole world grabs their hand and pulls them along. Let those who wish to be alone remain alone. Let those who want to isolate themselves do so. Among those who are essential for navigating this world, none belong to either of these two groups. Living in turmoil is more painful than living without love.

Twelve. Your emotions, your values, your principles, your religious or irreligious practices, your hobbies and pleasures—fulfill them all with your own money, not with someone else’s. When it comes to spending, fools squander their father’s money thinking of him as their own. Father’s money is father’s money; my money is my money, plus father’s money.

Thirteen. The less one has, the more one shows off.

Fourteen. First, learn to earn. Then, earn to learn.

Fifteen. Seeing some aggressive posts from Indian friends caused me great distress and compelled me to write: Learn to be a hero. A hero doesn’t need to dance in celebration on the corpses of the defeated, friend! History bears witness that heroes haven’t always won. But the hero’s conduct has remained heroic to the end. You have won—congratulations for that. Place your hand on your heart and tell me: did victory come easily in a carefree, came-saw-conquered style? Didn’t your heart tremble until the very last ball? You’ve won—good. You’re celebrating—even better. But here’s the thing, you know: to elevate your own mother, you don’t need to diminish someone else’s mother. Your mother cooked pulao and korma today; perhaps my mother could only manage rice and greens today—but she’s still my mother. Your mother’s prosperity may be a source of pride for you, but my mother’s poverty is equally a source of pride for me. Why hurt me needlessly to mask your own cowardice?

Sixteen. Ah, Sagnik! Tell him this… exactly this—those who sing receive love.

Seventeen. Thank you, mom, for being very very very strict in my childhood. (I said it before—there’s no medicine like a beating. Children will either behave properly or get slapped. Simple!)

Eighteen. Even if you call me bad, I must call you good—the shortage of good people in this world hasn’t yet become so severe, no matter how good you might be!

Nineteen. A chained dog is happier than a married man as the dog knows he is chained.

Twenty. Sometimes one leaps with time, sometimes one gasps for it.

Twenty-one. Success requires stubbornness, patience, and hard work more than inspiration. I know some people who are simultaneously inspired and lazy, or energetic in the wrong pursuits. Such inspiration can give nothing to anyone. Inspiration isn’t something to swallow whole, but something to put to work. (I intend to write about this in detail someday.)