The Plaster of Thought-Walls (88th Part)

Thought: Six Hundred and Ten

……………………………………………………

3 January 2015

Some strange questions. Along with my answers. A few that came to mind. Sharing them:

Brother, how did you get into IBA,
and also do well in BCS?

By studying.

Well, what would I need to do to break your written exam marks record?

You’d need to get a total of 645.

Brother, what should I wear to the viva?

Green shirt,
yellow pants,
red shoes.

Brother, I don’t feel like studying at all. What can I do?

Tell your parents to get you married. What’s the point!
It’s for you that everyone’s studying anyway.

Which company’s pen did you use to write in the exam?

A Bangladeshi company’s.

What color ink pen is best for writing in exams?

White ink.

Which publisher’s guidebook would be the best?

The market publisher’s.

Brother, you said
you answered in Bengali in the BCS exam. Did you write all subjects in Bengali?

No, I took the English exam in English,
and the math exam in math.

What’s the easiest way to become a BCS cadre on the first try?

Taking the exam well on the first try.

What did you do when you felt sleepy while studying?

I slept.

What did you do when you didn’t feel like studying?

I’d send someone a Facebook text like this.

Tell me the name of a good book
that would help me learn English well.

English dictionary.

Would buying the Oxford Dictionary English-to-Bengali work?

No, buy the Bengali-to-English one.

How many hours a day did you study? How many hours did you sleep?

I had no idea someone would ask this.
If I’d known beforehand,
I would have measured it with a stopwatch.

My girlfriend very likely loves another guy too. What should I do?

You should very likely love another girl too.

Brother, it’s my girlfriend’s birthday today. Could you write a beautiful message for her? I’ll send it to her.

Give me her number. You won’t have to bother—
I’ll send it myself.

Why do you selectively like girls’ photos?

I like girls,
that’s why.

Brother, why aren’t you getting married?

Because no one’s marrying me.

Okay, why don’t you have a girlfriend?

Because you don’t love me.

Brother, I want to write like you. What do I need to do?

You need to use Avro keyboard.

Do you love someone?
If so, whom?

I do. You.

Brother, I want to speak beautifully like you. What do I need to do?

You need to speak beautifully.

Brother, how can I pull myself away from Facebook?

By turning off your internet connection.

Brother, sometimes I feel like dying. I want to live.

Okay then, live.

Brother, I’d be very happy if you accepted me.

As what?

Brother, why did you come to civil service after studying engineering?

Sorry bhai,
it was a mistake. This mistake won’t happen again.

Why do you keep girls’ requests hanging?

Because they like to hang around.

If I send you math problems sometimes, will you solve them for me?

Not sometimes, please—
send them all the time.

Will you prepare 10-12 sets of model test questions for us,
please?

Brother, isn’t that too few?

Brother, you said
you want to be a writer. Will you write a BCS guide for us, please?

Just BCS?
What did bank jobs ever do wrong?

You’re so busy all day. Would you kindly talk to me for 15 minutes sometimes after 12:00 at night?

I don’t talk to boys that late at night.

Why don’t you answer my calls?

Why should I have to answer your calls?

So many more like these!! The punishment for ranking first in BCS. I can’t remember any more right now. Sometimes I think,
let me leave everything and become a family man.

6 January 2015

About yesterday’s status.

# I didn’t say anything in that piece that curtailed women’s freedom. Why would I? Even if I don’t have as much learning and wisdom as you all, at least I’ve learned this much from watching my mother since childhood:
so much depends on the domestic, social, and civic freedom of the wife in a family.

# I have spoken about an ugly, painful problem in society. If we could discuss this openly, it would benefit everyone. Some have said that this problem affects not only girl children but boy children as well. I accept this completely. In the case of girl children, the picture of this problem is all too frequent and horrifying. In both cases, a child’s healthy psychological and physical development is impaired. Simply closing our eyes to this will not make the problem vanish.

# I did not say that women working is wrong. I said they should keep their children’s safety in mind. Please don’t go around saying that I’m being more protective than the mothers themselves. I said that this ugly problem is such that you might not recognize it even when you see it, that it happens right under your nose, that the victim herself suppresses any mention of the problem.

# My mother taught at a kindergarten school. Why did she teach?
For money?
Yes, partly that. But the need wasn’t for money—it was for self-respect. My mother felt embarrassed always asking my father for money. Don’t think that my father wouldn’t give her money. When we were small, we used to ask our mother for money. Why only when we were small?
As I grew older, I developed a passion for buying books. I would buy lots of books quite regularly. For some reason I felt shy asking my father for money. Mother would give it to me from her own earnings or by asking my father. Mother still teaches students even now. Why does she teach now? Why did mother teach students then?
Mother has taught many people for free. How grown up they’ve become! They’re in good places now. They still remember mother. Mother loves to teach. Mother is alone. I don’t have a sister—we are two brothers. Neither I nor my younger brother has married, so we don’t have wives either. Who will mother talk with?
Mother enjoys doing this. Mother’s time doesn’t pass easily—it didn’t before either. To spend time meaningfully, mother taught students. It keeps her spirits up too. There’s less time for gossiping about others. The feeling that “I am self-reliant” brings joy. Now the question is,
how did mother manage it all?
Through tremendous mental and physical effort. Mother’s world was small, wasn’t it! Her wants and needs were few. Husband, children, family, and some books-songs-movies—this was my mother’s little world. Her sons’ happiness was her happiness. Before our exams, she would sometimes stop teaching. She would take us to our teachers’ homes. Father was very shy by nature. Mother would do all the talking with the teachers. I doubt she slept even five hours properly each day! If one can be this attentive, where’s the problem with women working?
In this matter, mother received all kinds of support from father. Just as we call mother ‘Ma,’ we call father ‘Baba’ too. Children don’t belong to the mother alone.

# Some friends have attacked me in a deeply personal way. I say this with all humility: you have entirely missed the thread of my writing. Let’s say I want to discuss a social problem. Fair enough. But how can I speak of it without addressing the elements that constitute society? I have grappled with these elements out of writerly necessity. It would have been gratifying if you had engaged with the problem itself. If you had offered some pathways toward resolution, everyone would have benefited. Brother, I am a small person. You can kick me all you want, and I will remain who I am. But if you had kicked the problem instead, perhaps the problem would no longer be a problem. Or at least some wisdom might have emerged about reducing its severity. Wouldn’t that have been the case? Instead, what did you do? You wrote that BCS cadres like me have no brains. (Sister, why are you dragging all BCS cadres into this? What have they done? If you must abuse someone, abuse me. Please, kindly say that I have no brains.) That educated people like me are of very low character. That I am a loser shit. That I am a goat. That I am unworthy of respect. That my mentality is medieval. That I am a perfect example of tamarind theory. (Tsk, sister, tsk! Did I say anything in my writing that warranted such comments? Your comment has made your intellectual range quite clear to me.) There’s more. I have presented what I consider to be respectable arguments for civilized society. Not only did you not stop there, you rallied everyone around you. If you didn’t understand my writing, you should have made just one comment: “Brother, I don’t understand what you’ve written. Please explain.” I would have been pleased, not hurt, and my respect for you wouldn’t have diminished either. The things friends have sent me in my inbox! Let it be, I won’t speak of this anymore. It offends my sensibility. Besides, my mood hasn’t deteriorated enough that I need to bring up those things and worsen it further.

# Livelihood is necessary for life. That much is fair. But let life not become subordinate to livelihood. So much gets lost in that bargain, doesn’t it? Love is lost, happiness is lost, tenderness is lost. The family could have been more beautiful; it doesn’t become so. Unspoken problems—and those that cannot be spoken—continue to grow. Out of household necessity, women go to work. In such cases, the man too must make considerable accommodations. It’s for him or his family, after all, that the woman cannot give proper attention to the children, isn’t it? Both father and mother have roles to play in this. Have I said anything in my writing that contradicts these thoughts? I don’t think so! Why would I? I too think along these very lines. If you have understood something different, then either you have misunderstood, or I have failed to make myself clear to you. Please forgive me, I am sorry. Now then, couldn’t this have been asked of me? Couldn’t my writing have been critiqued? Did those hard stones of yours have to be hurled at me? Why are you so cruel? From what sense of ego does this violence spring?

I am hurt. I will say nothing more. There is no time now to say anything else. Now I am busy being dejected. The business of dejection always keeps one quite occupied.

I am very angry. Yes, I have this anger in abundance. What should I do, tell me! I am human, after all! If only I could become a mischievous devil, I might be saved.

Listen, would you please share this post on your wall?
Until I went to sleep last night, I was thinking that only today was the day. This morning when I woke up, I saw: Ahhh! It’s another day! Still, I know,
many won’t read my writing anymore.
(Oh! What suffering, what suffering!)
They’ll deliberately avoid this piece too. Why wouldn’t they?
I scolded them so much yesterday!
What should I do,
tell me! They got scolded too! Shouldn’t I scold?
I did, and rightly so!

Thought: Six hundred eleven

……………………………………………………

6 January 2015

Well I mean,
I feel like picking a fight again, but I can’t find any issue. What to do, what to do!
I keep thinking about it, just keep thinking.

Listen, how about I give you another issue:

Boys pry into girls’ pasts while girls pry into boys’ presents.

Like the issue? So,
Dear wives,
go ahead and start. Why delay a good deed?

Remember Sukumar Ray’s
‘Narad Narad’
rhyme?
If you don’t remember, please read it again. I want a fight, a fight! Fresh hot fights!
What’s there in life! I do government work, it’s so comfortable to curse me. Master, let it begin!

Good lord, no one’s getting angry. This fellow’s luck is running a bit low. I am very very sorry.

6 January 2015

feeling amused!

Sharing an inbox message.

“I was initially quite surprised seeing this heading on bdnews, brother… In the end, you too went from living to dead while still alive…..

Later I saw the whole thing and laughed at my own foolishness for a while.”

Ah! Ankita please
say ‘yes.’ Please Ankita
……………

so was my ex-gf!!

…………. I was happy too, you crazy girl.

Brother, the way the sisters love you, I fear you might be attacked by miscreants on your wedding day. Such an incident recently happened in some district. So brother, if you marry, do it maintaining secrecy. This is my advice as a brother-in-law.

Haven’t married, how did you know??

No brother, you haven’t married. We understand this. If you had married, you would have gone on honeymoon with sister-in-law. You wouldn’t have appeared on Facebook for a month. I mean she wouldn’t have let you come to Facebook. Therefore, if you had married, our sisters wouldn’t be afraid if you spread this fear. Get married and post a picture with sister-in-law

Haven’t gone on honeymoon, how did you understand? Can’t one give issues while living with a wife?

7 January 2015

I’m single, so are my girlfriends!

Some are married but available, some
are single but available!!

did I just speak your mind? Oops!!!

I m a big fan of susant.

It’s better not to cast glances toward the married/committed party, my friend!
Why be the cause of someone else’s sorrow?

abba, married men……got it?

Let all the married, committed
people be happy in their own ways!!!

8 January 2015

Semester finals were underway. Fifth semester, I think. I finished teaching at my coaching center half an hour early—at 8:30—and headed to Book Garden in Andarkilla. (Why did I let the students go half an hour early? It was an act of courtesy, or perhaps consolation. Of what? I’ll come to that later.)
I used to buy engineering books there. I’d often buy books in English Language and Literature that weren’t required for my honors course. That day I was going to buy an engineering book. I can’t remember which one. When I arrived, I saw a new consignment had come in, and everyone was busy. The shop owner was entering book titles in his ledger. Two shop assistants were calling out book names as they shelved them.

How are you?
*** Please give me that book.

Brother, how are you?
Please sit. Hey, bring a cup of tea over here. We don’t have that book right now. Come tomorrow afternoon, you’ll get it.

But brother,
I need it right now.

Won’t it work if you take it tomorrow,
boss?

I have an exam tomorrow morning at 10.

(The shop owner had been bent over his ledger all this while. Hearing my words, he snapped his head up like a spring…..)
What! An exam tomorrow!
You’re buying books today!

Yes, brother. Please make the effort to arrange it somehow. I have so much to study, I’ll need to read all night.

The shop owner sent his assistant to hurriedly fetch the book from a nearby library. He told me,
“Brother, go home now. Study well.” He was thinking of me as a very good student, and somehow this made me feel embarrassed. Ah!
What a kind soul.

I took the book,
would study all night,
came home with this hope swelling in my chest,
freshened up,
had dinner,
drank two mugs of hot black coffee,
sat down to study,
all the text in the book and the professor’s handouts began to look like Greek and Latin to me, I found myself thinking,
it’s too difficult,
so there’s no point studying, I’ll have to try writing something made-up, I even felt pleased thinking this, convinced myself that the professor would pass everyone anyway, I began to doze off, and then,
somehow or other,
I would wake up very early the next morning and start studying, with this solemn vow I fell asleep.

The next day I woke at six in the morning. Sat down to study. Couldn’t manage a thing. I began flipping through photocopied class lectures from Sohel’s (Abu Sayed Mohammad Khan E Alam) notebook. It felt like I was staring at the most impossibly difficult material on earth. I touched the book and made a silent vow: Never again—from the next time onwards, I would study with extraordinary dedication. Coaching was the root of all evil. So I would quit coaching. Then I thought: If I study now, I’ll realize just how little I know. This will destroy my confidence. What’s the point! Better to improvise whatever comes to mind in the exam hall and write that down.
(Let me clarify: I never copied from anyone during exams. Not out of honesty, but from fear and shame. Desperately poor as I was, I’d rather starve to death than beg. No way! The intellectual pride of the middle class.) I shut all the books and notebooks and opened Facebook to see what everyone was up to. By the time it was 7:30, I had breakfast and set off for CUET.

When I took the question paper in hand, I saw that the professors hadn’t disappointed me. I knew nothing of what had come. Nor was I expected to know it, though I did understand the correct Bengali meaning of all the sentences and words. I told myself that if I improvised and wrote something, I wouldn’t get a complete zero. As a science student, I had the right to do at least this much in an engineering exam! I gave the exam with tremendous confidence, making things up, imagining answers, and when imagination failed, forcing myself to imagine something through sheer effort. Whatever it took, I had to write full answers! After all, I had clearly understood the entire question. My pen didn’t stop. Mixing the sweetness of my mind with whatever came to me and whatever didn’t, I kept writing. At one point I thought of adding some made-up quotations—what’s the point of leaving the answer sheet empty! Then I reconsidered: No, better not. Quotations in an engineering exam paper would look odd. I managed to use up most of the exam fee I’d paid by taking loose sheets. Those who knew me weren’t too surprised.
(They knew that Sushanta doesn’t study—he just writes and fails.) When I was taking loose sheets and saw that none of them seemed at all surprised, I thought the questions must have been easy. None of them were taking loose sheets. I took them twice. I felt very pleased with myself—I had written the most. And needless to say, full answers as always!

Later, after leaving the exam hall, I learned that the questions had apparently been difficult. Since I knew nothing and understood nothing, I hadn’t even realized the questions were hard. I wasn’t telling anyone anything, but the troublemakers, wanting to make fun of me, kept poking and prodding until they extracted from me that I had written full answers in that day’s exam. But I didn’t have the courage to tell them which 8 out of 10 optional questions I had answered. I somehow escaped from their presence. So while everyone else was calculating whether they’d get passing marks, I was in the canteen calculating the bill for shingara and onion fritters. Why stress unnecessarily! I only felt bad for the professor, thinking that he would have to read my engineering-literature. I don’t remember feeling ashamed. There was no reason to—I was used to this.

The results came out. The professor got his payment for correcting my trash (read: exam papers), yet showed not an ounce of mercy. Even if he’d given me 2-1 marks per page, I would have passed. Alas! The boy who wrote the most failed. What a routinely merciless jest of fate!

Thought: Six Hundred and Twelve

……………………………………………………

8 January 2015

My first crush in life: Divya Bharti.

1992. I was probably in class three or four. That year Deewana was released. Shah Rukh Khan’s first released movie. Co-starring Divya Bharti. There were no CDs then. It was the era of VCP/VCR. At that tender age, how many times I listened to the song “Aisi Deewanigi”! Just to watch Divya Bharti. I would go very close to the television and just watch and watch with unblinking eyes. I remember, even when I desperately needed the bathroom during the song, I would hold it in. Back then my prayer list to God was enormous. Along with “May I come first in exams,” Divya Bharti was also on that list. I would fold my hands and pray that my wife would look like Divya Bharti. (I truly did!) Now I think, we consider children much safer and more “they don’t understand anything” types than they actually are. If you playfully touch their aunt’s hair in front of them, they’ll definitely tell their mother about it. Sometimes they’ll blackmail you and get their chocolates and ice cream. They are terrifyingly clever children!

My most beloved food crush. I eat crush almost regularly.

My latest crush so far: a nameless married young woman.

How did I know she was married? She wore conch shell bangles on her wrist and vermillion on her forehead. This made the regret even more intense. I saw her two weeks ago on the US-Bangla Airlines flight to Dhaka. At least five and a half feet tall. (The fool’s height would be 5’7″ at most. I was missing God terribly at that moment. Actually, Manik is right.) Long, expressive eyes, saying something with those eyes. When she smiled, it pierced right into the middle of my chest. Those rosy thin lips don’t just smile, they absolutely murder! Magical movements of smooth fingers like Iranian young women. The enchantment of her graceful form was captivating too; swaying as if! Soft, silky hair gradually concealing those eyes, arousing thirst as it floated in the air. Her wonderful aura seemed to spread some magical spell on her forehead, cheeks, chin, neck… everywhere. She doesn’t just look—she plants a dagger; right in the middle of the chest. Ufff…!!! What magic! What enchantment!! Unbearable!!! In my head it kept ringing and ringing……. Lalalalalala ….. Lalalalalala ….. Lalalalalala ….. Lalalalalala ….. Lalalalalala ….. Lalalalalala ….. Laaaaaaa ….. Lalalalalaaaaaa …..

Enough! I’ve said too much! I won’t say anymore. Don’t I have any shame, hmph!

Now it’s your turn. First crush? Last crush? Today’s game is the crush crush game!!

Oh yes! Let’s also play a little quiz, shall we? So, let’s begin!

One. “Deewana” wasn’t supposed to be Shah Rukh’s first movie. Tell me, which one was supposed to be?

Two. The music playing in my head was from a Hindi movie. Should I say which movie it was?

Three. How did the phrase “getting a crush” come about?

Let me tell you about another crush:
The heroine of ‘Ballad of a Soldier.’
What need does a girl have to be so beautiful? Strange!!
Don’t people have work to do??

9 January 2015

After listening to this track, I feel like reducing my anger toward those friends of mine who copy my writing and pass it off as their own.

Now, haven’t you heard some part of this track in one of our songs before? You have, you have. Let’s see,
think and tell me which song?

Those of you who enjoy instrumentals,
listen to Silk Road, from which this was taken. The track is by Kitaro. He is a pioneer of New Age music. I believe
his creation is not his own. This melody comes from a divine realm. When it touched his body and mind, he merely captured it. I bow to this melody-maker.

I tell you,
you will be amazed to think how many movies and songs have taken that melody,
yet it’s never been acknowledged anywhere. What does it matter to the creator! He is great!

Dive into it this holiday. After a while it will start to feel like our beloved Rabi Thakur’s words…..I have dived into the sea of form/ hoping for a formless jewel…….

11 January 2015

Details of my next career chat session:

Date: 14 January (Wednesday)

Time: 3:00 to 9:00

Venue: District Academy of Fine Arts,
Chittagong

What will be in the chat session:

Motivational session

BCS examination preparation strategies (Preliminary+Written+Viva)

Dhaka University IBA MBA admission test preparation strategies (Written+Viva)

Question and answer session

The chief guest for the career chat is Dr. Anupam Sen, Vice Chancellor of Premier University and Bangladesh’s renowned sociologist.

The session is organized by Rotary Club of Chittagong, Khulshi.

Financial support is provided by Equity Property Management Limited.

Overall coordination is by Additional Commissioner Abu Daud Sir (Facebook name Badal Syed) from the Income Tax Department.

Assistant Commissioner Chhoto Bhai Ayan Sarkar from the Income Tax Department is helping with coordination. You can contact him for any information about the session.

Those of us who will speak with all of you at the session: Sir. Me. Ayan.

Like all my chat sessions, there will be no entry fee for that day’s session, no need to register—just come at that time. The session is open to all.

Various print and electronic media are supporting the publicity and promotion of this career chat session.

(I humbly request everyone to share this post and let others know about it.)

Thought: Six Hundred Thirteen

……………………………………………………

14 January 2015

I’m leaving for Dhaka tomorrow. For six months. I’ll be staying in Savar. PATC training begins on the 18th. This training is one of the requirements for making civil servants’ jobs permanent. I’ve heard this training is quite torturous! I’ll have to wake up at 5 AM in this winter! Stay busy all day long. For me, training means torture! But I have to go. There’s no escape route. I don’t know how regular I’ll be able to stay on Facebook during this time. Let’s see. Friday and Saturday are holidays. Holidays meaning the kind where you can do whatever you please (break down; I mean, break down piece by piece, whatever you want), meaning no one will call you to the office. Ah! This is peace! I’ll roam around like a spinning wheel on these two days. What I want is, whether this training gives me something or not, at least let it give me the opportunity to wear my stylish shirts and T-shirts again. I want to be carefree and colorful like before. “I let my younger brother Prashanta wear a shirt.” I want this sentence to no longer be about the indirect object. Enough is enough! I want to sing at the top of my voice, the belly came only once in life… Seeking everyone’s prayers.

I’ve received quite a few requests about today’s career chat. For instance,

# The prelims are coming up. Please talk a bit more about the prelims.

# They’ve given the viva date. Please take more time to discuss viva techniques.

# If you don’t talk much about written exam topics, you can talk more about other subjects.

# I have a job, so I might not be able to come at 3 PM. By the time I take leave from office and arrive, it’ll be 4 o’clock. It would be good if you could kindly start your session after 4 PM.

# I’ve come all the way from Dhaka (or many other places) with great difficulty for today’s program. You don’t even give a thanks to those who come from far away with such effort to your career chat. Please give us a thanks.

To everyone I say: So be it!

I’m also saying, you’ve heard enough of my rambling. Today you’ll also hear the life-oriented words of Badal Syed sir. From my experience with our Theatre Institute programs, I can say that sir’s words will truly be very useful in life. And I’m a fan myself of Ayan’s confident style of speaking. Brother, how do you do it, man!

Now let me get to the real matter. Here’s the story:
This morning I woke up and made a groundbreaking discovery. My throat is scratchy,
ready to give out at any moment!
I also have a fever. No matter! I’m downing ginger tea and pressing on!
(Quite literally!)
I’m trying to draw inspiration from Amitabh Bachchan. With a 103-degree fever, he
shot the song “Khaike Paan Banaraswala” for the movie ‘Don’. Listen to that song once more!
Can you tell anything’s wrong? Only during a couple of dance steps can you sense something’s off, and maybe that’s just because I know about it!
My salute to Amitabh,
the great artist! You have to perform when you are performing.

Friends! See you there,
let’s gather and talk!
At 3 o’clock at Shilpakala Academy.

15 January 2015

A few words:

One. Many of you noticed the news on page 2 of today’s Prothom Alo. For those who didn’t, I’m letting you know that tomorrow’s Prothom Alo jobs section will feature an article I wrote on preparation strategies for the 34th BCS viva examination. You’re invited to read it. Thank you to Sojib Bhai at Prothom Alo for helping this piece reach everyone.

Two. At yesterday’s career discussion, I myself was terribly out of place. Why am I saying this?
Yesterday at the gathering, what I taught
was far less than what I myself learned!

First to speak was my younger brother Ayan, Assistant Commissioner at the Income Tax Department. How well he speaks!
I was thoroughly impressed. He beautifully handled the challenging responsibility of organizing all the younger brothers and sisters who came from Chittagong University from start to finish. Thank you, Ayan.

Next came Dr. Moinul Islam Mahmud, Chairman of Equity Property Management Limited. His thoughts about the country are captivating. His analysis of our achievements as a nation and how we can progress further is deeply significant. I sincerely thank him.

Then came to the stage Sufi Mohammad Mizanur Rahman, Founder Chairman of PHP Group. From the time I spent with him, I felt that if one could learn even the smallest bit from his humility, knowledge, and conduct, it would be an enormous gain for anyone. I’ve seen very few people speak with such respect for others. One thing he said in his speech was:
“How great a person becomes depends on how much extra work they can do beyond what’s required.”
Another thing he said was, “A person who doesn’t respect teachers cannot go very far.” These two statements still ring in my ears. He praised my initiative wholeheartedly and offered his prayers. I often say,
“Praise others wholeheartedly,
accept praise with humility.” I saw this quality in him too. I learned so much from him yesterday. Thank you to him.

The chief guest at yesterday’s program was Dr. Anupam Sen Sir, who is revered by all of us. For many years he has been guiding people toward the light. Coming to the stage with a torch in hand, Sir once again illuminated all of us. Sir’s presence honored us all. Thank you, Sir, for giving us some of your precious time.

Delivering a message to an audience through interaction is no simple task. Abu Daud Sir, Additional Commissioner of the Income Tax Department, had enchanted everyone with this difficult work. About Sir’s speech, one can only say: “I came, I spoke, I conquered.” Working quietly behind the scenes, Sir’s role in organizing yesterday’s overall program was paramount. The plan to hold the program in the open courtyard outside the Academy of Fine Arts was also Sir’s. This brought two benefits. First, even with nearly 1200+ spectators, there was adequate space for everyone to sit or stand comfortably. Second, throughout the entire event there was an aesthetic atmosphere that captivated us all. Papyrus Event Management showed artistry in stage decoration and seating arrangement. Our thanks to them.

We extend our gratitude to radio partner Radio Today and all other print and electronic media for properly publicizing yesterday’s program. Like the past few days, today too many local and national newspapers have covered yesterday’s event, many channels and radio stations have broadcast news of the program. We express our heartfelt gratitude to them.

We especially thank Joint Commissioner Shamina Islam Madam from the Income Tax Department and Daud Sir’s wife Rabeya Bhabi for excellently handling the difficult task of hosting the program.

For taking responsibility for refreshments for all of us who attended the program, I thank Abul Khayer Group and Nescafe on everyone’s behalf.

We express our heartfelt gratitude and thanks to Equity Property Management for financing the overall arrangements, including distributing content CDs of yesterday’s program to everyone.

I thank the Rotary Club of Chittagong, Khulshi on behalf of the participants for beautifully organizing yesterday’s career chat. This was my second career chat organized by Rotary. The first one was held at the Theatre Institute. Mahfuzul Haq Bhai, President of Rotary Club of Chittagong, Khulshi and Director of Equity Property Management, has informed me that from now on the Rotary Club will organize this chat nationwide. I express special gratitude and thanks to him for standing by us in such good work. Thanks also to him and the Rotary Club for yesterday’s dinner.

I salute those ‘unsung heroes’ through whose tireless efforts and guidance yesterday’s career chat became meaningful.

To all the younger brothers and sisters, guardians, friends, well-wishers and respected elders who came from far away, we express our thanks and gratitude on behalf of everyone.

Due to the scope of yesterday’s program and time constraints, I shortened my session to finish in two and a quarter hours. I hope this did not cause any disruption to the main rhythm of the career chat. (Well, did anyone catch that I was speaking with a 101-degree fever? If you didn’t catch it, the credit goes to Amitabh Bachchan. If you did catch it, then the failure is entirely mine.) The question-and-answer session and photo session were also enjoyable. Everyone had surrounded us, many touched our feet in greeting, embraced us; I couldn’t hold back the tears. The darkness of night hides many things, saves us. Sometimes one feels a deep desire to love the darkness too.

We express our gratitude and thanks to the Academy of Fine Arts and the District Administration for providing overall cooperation in organizing yesterday’s program.

Before my session began, Daud Sir brought my mother on stage and introduced her to everyone. Everyone stood to honor her. When mother took her seat in the audience, many people came to touch her feet in salaam and seek her blessings. If anyone had asked me,
“What was your greatest gain from yesterday’s career chat?”
I would have said, “Being able to honor my mother.”

I end this post about yesterday’s program with words from Daud Sir and Mahfuzul Haq bhai. At one point during dinner, Daud Sir said,
“Sushanto, keeping 1200 young people engaged for six and a half hours is no easy matter. If we assume
even ten percent of those boys smoke,
they sat through this entire duration without smoking.” Then Mahfuzul Haq bhai said,
“I’ve only seen a program hold audiences like a magnet the way yours did in Jafor Iqbal Sir’s programs. Brother, these days people don’t even sit through music concerts for this long.”

(I humbly request everyone to share this post with others.)

Thought: Six hundred and fourteen

……………………………………………………

15 January 2015

A little boy is hanging off the back of the rickshaw ahead. The little one is grinning with all his teeth showing. Looking at him, it seems the kid is in absolute bliss. That’s not the issue. The problem is, seeing him makes me want to hang off the back of a rickshaw too. I don’t know what to do. Well,
if I got out of the car now and hung off the back of a rickshaw, would my driver mind?
Or would the rickshaw tip over? I don’t feel like getting yelled at by the rickshaw-puller. What a mess! Why did I have to grow up?

Go hang.

I didn’t hang. I rolled down the car window and called out “Hey!” to that monkey of a boy, and the kid made a face at me. I got annoyed.

16 January 2015

Career Chat
— It’s free and always will be.

The first two lines are mine,
and I stole the tagline from Facebook!

This morning I spoke with Daud Sir, Additional Commissioner of the Income Tax Department. After attending my Career Chat and hearing our words, and seeing the enthusiasm of the young generation, PHP Group Chairman Sufi Mizanur Rahman decided on the spot that PHP Group is willing to take responsibility for organizing all my future Career Chats. Seeing our courage, strength, and good intentions in the work of showing dreams to young people, he wants these chats to spread everywhere in the country,
even abroad. If needed, we’ll take his helicopter and travel to different corners of the country, peddling dreams among the youth. I believe
if this generation moves forward with dreams and passion,
the right perspective, and the right decisions at the right time,
the country’s progress is inevitable! We want no one to get lost. Rotary Club will stand beside us in all such initiatives.

I dream greatly
that my Career Chat will guide millions of people. Everyone, please pray for me that I may be able to do this.

I shall continue working alongside Daud Sir, under his guidance, from a place of social commitment for this society, for the country. I believe from my heart that I am utterly unworthy of what I have received. But then why did I receive so much? Let me turn the answer slightly. If you deserve to receive 10 taka, and Allah gives you 20 taka, then surely there is some divine indication behind this. If you do not distribute at least 5 taka from that extra 10 among those who suffer, then Allah will reward with that extra bounty someone who has the mindset to help others, and will no longer reward you. Therefore, whether anyone joins me or not, I shall continue to chase wild buffaloes in the forest while eating at home! Let me say again, Career Adda — It’s free and always will be.

To those who wish to stay with me, I request you to simply tell me this much: How can I help you? The rest is my responsibility. If you do not use my Career Adda commercially, then whenever you call me, I shall come on my own responsibility.

21 January 2015

This Friday I shall visit the Jahangirnagar University campus for the first time. I’ll roam from morning till evening. Raise your hands, those who would spend the entire day roaming this green campus with me. Those of you who are on the university campus and are free that day, you can call me tomorrow afternoon or later at ***** and speak with me. I’ve heard that bhuna khichuri and duck curry are available there? Come, let us roam together, eat bhuna khichuri and duck in this winter — if necessary, you/all of you will pay the bill.

23 January 2015

At Jahangirnagar campus . . . . . . Too awesome!! I’ll stay until twilight.

If anyone is around here, you can join us. It would be lovely. I’m available at ****** this number.

25 January 2015

With the bhuna khichuri, I ate vegetables (labra) with lemon squeezed over it, and soft-soft chomchom mixed with crunchy raw chili.

(Prasad from Saraswati Puja.)

You could try eating it. Truly speaking, it tastes amazing! My previous three recipes must have pleased you all. What? They didn’t? This one will too.

Faith brings taste, argument takes you far astray!

I’ll give details in ‘PATC Diary’. Coming soon……

27 January 2015

“How old is your job?”

I felt like saying so much, “Sir, a job is like a woman. It doesn’t listen. Tell it to go east, it goes west; tell it to go north, it heads south. It doesn’t understand what you say, but understands even more what you don’t say. Do anything slightly this way or that, and it sits there with puffed cheeks. Before both, you have to keep saying ‘yes sir, yes sir.’ What tricks and tactics you must employ to appease them! If you have one, it’s trouble; if you don’t have one, that’s even more trouble. Sir, one doesn’t ask a woman’s age.”

Ah! Good indeed,
so much
experience without even getting married…….good indeed….

Who had to die writing about death? Where? When??

6 February 2015

(I was writing the ‘PATC Diary’,
suddenly these thoughts came to mind. I took a little break, that’s all! Writing is such a burden!
Does cutting soil with a spade hurt this much?
These days I feel like envying those
who don’t have to write.)

Those who have trouble understanding the impersonality of writing — if they explain it in comments, everyone will catch on. Better to speak understanding the tone of the writing, or if you don’t understand the tone, instead of commenting, go away and eat puffed rice with Sprite. Just because I belong to the goat species doesn’t mean I have to write and publish that fact!
The public has brains, after all!

Thought: Six hundred fifteen

……………………………………………………

7 February 2015

Tomorrow I’ll be at the book fair from 3 PM until evening. Friends who might be in that area
can call this number ****.

An anthology released at this book fair contains many of my writings. The anthology is called Akshara. I’ve written about this book on my wall before. The piece is in one of my Facebook notes. The book is published by Shiri Publications,
available at stall number 214. I received a copy courtesy of the editor Maymuna Lina. I’ve read through the pieces. I liked them. You should read them too,
I hope you’ll enjoy them.

See you tomorrow, we’ll talk.

11 February 2015

This love I have for flowers,
I learned from my mother.

This love I have for birds,
I learned from my mother.

This love I have for trees,
I learned from my mother.

This love I have for songs,
I learned from my mother.

This love I have for books,
I learned from my mother.

This love I have for beauty,
I learned from my mother.

This love I have for people,
I learned from my mother.

I’m sharing some photos of flowers that bloomed in my mother’s garden. I know they’re nothing extraordinary. But to me they’re infinitely precious. A little while ago my younger brother
Prashanta sent me these pictures.

Mother, why are you growing old like this?
Why are these wrinkles appearing on your face?
Pappu, your camera hasn’t learned to lie, has it? Mother,
are you really truly growing old?

Mother, are the other flowers in your garden well? Keep them well too,
won’t you? You and father stay very well. Then Pappu and I will stay well. Tell me mother,
is father growing old too? Mother,
we’re all doing very well, aren’t we?
God has kept us very well. What’s there to worry about?
Now you have only one job: to stay well.

Mother, do you know how beautiful you look when you smile?

Why do parents grow old before we do?
What if this could happen instead: all of us close ones could share age among ourselves—grow old together, die at the same time. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

12 February 2015

Even now, sometimes,
when I slip into her profile from another ID, something twists inside my chest, a wailing rises, and I keep feeling—
something’s missing, something’s missing!

For nothing!

Was she ever really there at all?

12 February 2015

This status is for those who read my writings, especially the ‘PTDC Diary’ series.

# Which part of this almost-daily series do you like best?

# What other elements do you think would improve it?

# Which parts feel tiresome to read, and should therefore be written more briefly?

# What kind of language changes would help?
Should I write more simply? Or
should I write more elaborately? Or
is it fine as it is?

# Do the various references I include feel annoying to read, or do they break the flow of thought while reading?

# What other subjects could I include to help you better feel the entire atmosphere here?

# I deliberately avoid using people’s names much in my writing. This has sometimes embarrassed me in the past. Would it be better to include them?
Or is it fine as it is?

I cannot write with much ease. I mean,
writing doesn’t just flow out when I sit down to write.
Each piece takes me a long time, causes me great difficulty. And I can’t write just whatever I want. Because
I keep thinking—
many of those who love my writing or love me
wait for my words. When someone loves you, you can’t treat them carelessly, can’t give them just anything. I believe “whatever I can offer to the divine, I give that same to my beloved…”

I know
many people don’t read this series for two reasons:

One. During training, the daily pressure of so much work leaves very little free time. I’ve had to abandon many things in my life simply for the necessity of writing this. Reading and writing are like prayer to me. When I engage in this prayer, I even keep my mobile phone at a distance. Since I don’t have time, preparing for this diary through study, watching films becomes nearly impossible. If I were to write with proper preparation and time, the leisure hours available here wouldn’t allow me to write so much. The quality of writing suffers from lack of preparation. This has happened with this diary too. Many who have been reading my work regularly for a long time have told me this. They don’t enjoy reading it, so they don’t read.

Two. These pieces are somewhat long and sometimes become tedious due to repetition of the same themes. People don’t have time or don’t feel inclined, so they don’t read.

Yet I write. Why? For two reasons:

One. Because I enjoy writing. Besides, apart from this one thing, I can’t really do much else well.

Two. Some friends read, say good things, like, comment, share, or do nothing but read and wait for the next piece.

I would be deeply pleased to receive my friends’ opinions about the ‘PATC Diary’ or my other writings. Please share your thoughts in the comments or inbox. Write whatever you feel while reading my work. I would truly be very happy.

Ah, one more thing. Many people ask me whether they can share my writing. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Anyone can do whatever they want with any of my writing, except steal it. I mean, as long as it’s clear that the writing is mine, not yours. If someone stole my child, I couldn’t very well arrange offerings on a plate and worship them. I’m absolutely petty/possessive about my creations. Sorry. The less wealth one has, the greater the attachment to one’s own. What can I do, tell me! Thank you.

Thought: Six hundred sixteen

……………………………………………………

12 February 2015

Whether anyone gives you flowers or not

Tomorrow is spring

Twelve years ago, my friend Zunaeed had perhaps once sent me something written for the first day of Falgun,

In spring’s breeze
…….. I love! Say it with passion.

Everything’s here, yet
……… why does it feel so lonely!

My friend is no longer alone. He has with him his fairy-like, adorable daughter. I pray that she grows up to be even more enchanting than Humayun Ahmed’s heroines.

Friend, truly speaking, when Falgun comes, I remember you.

I’m remembering someone else too. My heart wishes that she remains very well.

I wish Zuckerberg the best for spring. May the words “It’s Free” on Facebook never change. May those whose days still revolve around Facebook live well without paying a penny.

For so long now, Robi Babu has been playing in my head……. “Let those who are happy remain happy”…..

May no pair in this world break apart.

May the flower trade flourish. May the tissue business decline.

May beautiful word-processions move from Facebook statuses into real life.

I wanted to go to Dhaka yesterday. I won’t go. Going to campus on the first of Falgun makes me melancholy. These days I don’t like keeping myself in a sad mood. I can’t manage hypocrisy. I can’t keep my heart heavy and still flash a toothy smile.

I’ll go the day after tomorrow. Go, meaning I have to go. Final presentation for my MBA at IBA. After the presentation, I’ll wander around the book fair. They’ll take love. I’ll take books, take my degree. They’ll get one thing, I’ll get two. From that day on, I’ll become: Sushanto Pal, BSc in CSE (CUET), MBA in Finance (IBA, DU)

There could have been another one: MDS (DU)……..it didn’t happen, I gave it up. Why? Simply out of whim. Sometimes I think, in this short life, I’ve played too many games with this life of mine.

Tell me, wasn’t it this very madman of negative thoughts who once decided not to complete his honors? Wasn’t he supposed to become a shopkeeper with just an intermediate certificate? Mother, are you listening? Father, won’t you come and see for a moment? I made you cry so much, didn’t I? Pappu, didn’t people keep taunting you? That your big brother would remain uneducated his whole life? Where are they now?

13 February 2015

Tomorrow’s presentation at IBA is at 11 AM. The last presentation of my master’s. I haven’t even started preparing it yet. My old habit—the eleventh-hour syndrome.

At noon I put detergent in a bucket full of clothes. I don’t feel like washing them. But I have to wash them before I sleep. My PT uniform for the day after tomorrow morning is in there too. If I don’t wash it tonight, it won’t dry. I leave at 8 AM tomorrow. There’ll be no time to wash tomorrow either.

Mosquitoes are biting. I don’t feel like getting up to light a coil. Let them bite.

I’m hungry. There’s an apple right in front of me. I’m too lazy even to eat it.

Tomorrow I have so much to do. Give the presentation, roam the book fair, and so many other things I’m supposed to do……… I can’t remember. I don’t even want to remember.

I have so much work to do now. All day I didn’t do any actual work. So what did I do all day today? Woke up in the morning and looked at flowers, looked at trees, saw some birds, looked at the lake, came to my room and fell asleep. I slept the whole day. My eyes have swollen from all the sleeping. Today’s greatest achievement—touching and feeling the morning dew gathered on rose petals.

Sitting at my laptop with a head full of work to be done. What am I doing instead?
Women all over the world have posted pictures from the first day of spring. I’m looking at those pictures. Not giving too many likes though. What if they figure out I’m secretly looking at their photos! So I’m holding back. Women look absolutely stunning in sarees!
I feel like falling in love with some of them. Wait, this isn’t love, is it? This is just infatuation.

I’m listening to old Bengali songs. They sound so good with this mischievous smile on my face. I want to love these songs even more deeply. I want to love those who wrote them,
composed them,
sang them. I want to forgive everyone in the world, even those who’ve hurt me and are living happily. I even want to love that little gecko in the corner of the ceiling. Wait, was its call always this beautiful?

When I sit with a head full of work to be done,
what do I do? My mind goes blank. I stare into such emptiness that anyone looking would think I’m deep in thought. Actually, I’m thinking nothing at all. For hours, instead of doing what needs to be done, I just sit. I do other things. Everything else in the world starts seeming necessary. This way, eventually night falls. Even knowing I won’t be able to do the work in the morning, I fall asleep chanting ‘All is well.’
Who else but me could sleep so peacefully with such a burden of work weighing on their mind?

Ugh! I won’t write anymore. Need to light the mosquito coil. These damn mosquitoes don’t understand love either! They’re as clueless as old girlfriends!!

………… Brother,
seeing your comment made me read this carelessly written status once more. I’m feeling good about my own writing again. Thank you.

14 February 2015

The most irresistible drug in the world: books

When you come to the book fair, your back bends under the weight of the backpack, the book-laden bags drain the last bit of strength from your hands,
pink hues become clearly visible on fair palms. Yet this addiction to books can only be cured by books. The pain of books dies only in books. Even carrying this tremendous agony of book-weight throughout your body, you can still smile and say hello to acquaintances you bump into while wandering the fair. You can spend hours swimming through books from stall to stall, carrying loads heavy as stone. I buy books like a madman, arrange them like a fool. The dissatisfaction of not being able to buy a single book despite having the means equals several deaths. This touch of books carries such intoxicating magic. There are three scents in the world that are alike: the scent of a beloved’s hair,
the scent of flower petals, and the scent of book pages. All three awaken unabashed intoxication.

The book fair had fewer crowds today. This shouldn’t have happened on a day like today. Has love suddenly diminished? Or have breakups increased? Or both?

Alas! On this day of love, love didn’t increase,
dust did. I could feed Laboni, Sifat and Pappu nothing but dust. Women can actually tolerate this incredibly boring book-browsing and chat while wandering around!
Thank you for putting up with me.

On today’s Valentine’s Day, instead of selling my heart, I sold my lungs and am returning to PATIC.

15 February 2015

A weary traveler, exhausted from walking, knocked on a house door and asked for shelter for the night. The master of the house opened the door and politely said, “I have a marriageable daughter in my house. Please try another house.” The next two houses gave the same sort of response. The tired traveler thought: it’s not right to keep bothering people by knocking on their doors like this. Besides, he himself was getting embarrassed by these repeated rejections. Better to think of another approach. He knocked on the fourth house door and asked the master, “Sir, do you have a marriageable daughter in your house?” The master, surprised, asked, “Why?” The traveler’s quick reply: “I want to stay the night, that’s why.”

In today’s class, sir told this joke while teaching communication problems. I’d heard or seen this joke before. Wait, isn’t part of this joke in one of Dildar’s movies? I can’t quite remember. If anyone knows, please tell me?

15 February 2015

Beehive on the right. Careful! Do not throw stones.

On the way to the dormitory, right next to the mango grove, this message was posted on a pillar. After reading it, I went down into the mango grove on the right and searched for a long time “to avoid throwing stones,” but couldn’t find any beehive.

16 February 2015

Announcement! Announcement!! The mystery of the “stone at the beehive” solved! The mystery of the “stone at the beehive” solved!!

Yesterday I wrote:

“Beehive on the right. Careful! Do not throw stones.

On the way to the dormitory, right next to the mango grove, this message was posted on a pillar. After reading it, I went down into the mango grove on the right and searched for a long time ‘to avoid throwing stones,’ but couldn’t find any beehive.”

Today, in PATC’s special detective team’s evening lightning operation, it has been revealed that there is actually no beehive in the mango grove to the right of that pillar. The real story is this: directly opposite that pillar—meaning on the left side of that corridor spot, next to the jujube garden—this special misleading warning was placed so that we Romeo-types wouldn’t “cast our eyes” toward the ladies’ dormitory located there.

The nation wants to know: is this the kind of foolish PATC we wanted?

19 February 2015

Blessed rain-kissed Falgun morning

The day begins touched by sulking rain

20 February 2015

A cadre doesn’t make a person great; a person makes the cadre great.

A cadre doesn’t diminish a person; a person diminishes the cadre.

Always beware of the people whom you can judge only by what they do, not by what they are as well. Judging someone by their job is one of the worst forms of judgement.

But in our society, everyone does exactly this.

What if we simply don’t count those who carry such attitudes?
Not everyone is needed for life’s journey. Let them be as they are, they have arranged themselves in their own way . . . . . . . Deciding whom not to
make friendship with is more important than deciding whom to make friendship
with.

20 February 2015

On the way to Baliati Zamindar House . . . . . . .