Thought: Two hundred sixty-seven.
……………………………………..
From childhood, I wasn’t particularly bad as a student. Because I always achieved good results, everyone’s expectations of me were high. If I can bear the shame of defeat, then why shouldn’t I have the chance to enjoy the joy of victory? If I don’t have the right to make mistakes even with my own family, then where shall I go? I had received a golden A-plus in SSC. Then I went to intermediate and enrolled in a college in another city. I practically stopped studying altogether! I would wander around all day, spend time chatting and hanging out. Life seemed wonderfully colorful. That’s what happens when you go far from home at that age! The age that doesn’t understand the responsibility of freedom—at that age, dependence is better. When feet are unrestrained and disobedient, chains become beautiful ornaments.
In the early days of first year, I formed a relationship with someone, which broke as soon as I entered intermediate second year. I practically didn’t study for a whole year. In second year, I had started studying properly, got good results in the first term, but then somehow my father learned about my old relationship. He probably thought the relationship still existed, forcibly brought me home, and began preparing to marry me off.
My father had been annoyed with me from before, of course. He wanted me to study CA, so even though I studied science in SSC, he more or less forced me to enroll in commerce for HSC. But I don’t enjoy accounting. I would often be irritated thinking that the subject I was studying—I didn’t like it at all. I would frequently have conflicts with my father about this. Everyone began complaining against me, saying I didn’t study, but how could I make them understand that these subjects weren’t for me! Father, uncle, friends—everyone only lectured me, directly or indirectly. That nothing would come of me, that I wouldn’t be able to do anything in life, saying such things. When I met friends, they would say, this girl was once a good student, now her head has gone bad. Hearing such things hurt terribly. Father would also say, you’ve studied enough, you don’t need to study anymore, now get married. I couldn’t make any of them understand—I don’t want to marry, I want to study. I only wanted to prove to those who always lectured me whether I was really as cheap as they said! When they spoke so grandly, it hurt so much! Why must I marry right now! I don’t yet have the mental maturity for marriage. I desperately wanted to die! Why is everyone saying I won’t be able to do anything anymore?
All this led to a terrible result in my intermediate exams—3.38. I had quit studying out of anger at my family. I didn’t get into any public university. I became the unwanted one in the family. I distanced myself from everyone. My father had decided he wouldn’t fund my education anymore, but later they admitted me to a private university for law, according to their preference. After coming to Dhaka, I became much more alone. My parents don’t speak to me. My mother cries a lot over my failure—I couldn’t fulfill their dreams. A young romance ruined my entire life! My father calls me once a month, when he sends money. Even then, he never speaks to me properly. I had never lived alone since childhood, and after coming to Dhaka, I became terribly isolated. No one from home inquires about me. Apart from my parents, those others who had raised their swords against me for the crime of falling in love—I doubt they even know I exist! In our society, those who lecture us the most are the very ones we hardly need to survive.
The truth is, no one loves me. Every day I wait for my parents to call, but the result is zero! My mother calls occasionally, but doesn’t speak properly—she doesn’t ask about my studies, whether I’ve eaten, whether I’m well, whether I’m facing any problems. No one has any faith in me. Because I did poorly in my intermediate exams, because during my intermediate years I wouldn’t let them arrange my marriage.
Loneliness devours me terribly. I live in a mess, always keeping to myself. The biggest problem is that everyone around me always wants to dominate me. Depression, loneliness, setbacks—everything combined made my first year results poor. In the second year, I realized I had to study, or the results would be bad again. Out of anger at home, I started tutoring. From then on, I stopped taking money from home for university fees. My results improved somewhat, but even though my SGPA increased, my CGPA didn’t.
When results improve, some confidence naturally returns; mine did too. Others began to show respect. But I find no peace—where there’s no family, there’s no happiness. Besides, there are various other problems—environmental issues. I’ve become mentally ill, I cry so much, endlessly cry, there’s no account of it, but I can’t find any place of comfort anywhere.
Since I’m a girl, I don’t go out except for work—I stay in my room almost all the time. When I cry during prayers or otherwise, my roommate and the girls from neighboring rooms make terrible comments; someone says your boyfriend dumped you, otherwise why so depressed? They say even worse things. People love to speak ill of others; they say it in such a way as if they themselves are the only pure person! Hearing their words makes me feel even worse. Unpleasant truths can be accepted, but how do I accept unpleasant lies?
I’ve been having breathing difficulties for some time now, so I consulted a doctor;
he suggested I get an ECG done. I feel embarrassed about getting it done, so I haven’t yet,
but the girls nearby make terrible comments about it—saying I’m actually pregnant, that something’s secretly wrong with my body,
and so on and so forth. Hearing all this makes me feel so ashamed.
This world isn’t meant for me. Often I think
that perhaps in dying, I might truly live.
One failed love seems to have failed my entire life!
Reflection: Two hundred and sixty-eight.
……………………………………..
I’m studying at a public university. I’ll be entering third year this time. While doing medical admission coaching, I met a boy over the phone towards the end of 2014,
gradually becoming involved with him in 2015. At that time, because I hadn’t studied properly, despite having two golden A-plus grades, I didn’t get into any medical college. Anyway,
I’m still in a relationship with him. Due to the distance, we still haven’t met. He lives far away for work. I never really pressured him much about meeting, but to find out what his feelings for me were really like,
or whether he actually had any intention of marrying me,
I once lied to him saying my marriage was being arranged.
He immediately said he’d come the very next day. Then he said some more possessive things about me. Hearing all this, I became quite certain that he was actually serious about me. From then on, the relationship became more trustworthy and deeper for me. We would talk on video calls,
and I would talk according to his wishes,
meaning whatever he asked me to do,
I would do. We talked freely about everything, rather like husband and wife.
One day, on some whim, I created a fake account and messaged him on Facebook. I convinced him that I was a girl and that due to a particular problem, I was talking to him from this fake account. After talking to him from that account for some days, I noticed
that he was talking to that fake account girl in exactly the same style
as he talked freely with me about everything. However, he didn’t talk about sex-related matters with that girl. I later informed him about all this,
and he denied it. After showing him screenshots, he admitted his mistake, apologized to me, and I forgave him, trusting him. When I asked for his Facebook password,
he refused to give it. Of course, I had never given him my password either. He sometimes asks me for money,
and I’ve never really indulged him much in this matter.
And so it went on. Suddenly, I befriended a boy on Facebook, and we even met in person. Gradually, a very good relationship developed between us on Facebook itself. Though I saw our relationship as merely friendship, this boy began to think that I loved him. I told him directly that I did not love him, but even after this, he continued the relationship with me, helping me financially in various needs, often sending money to my bKash account. He would say, “You don’t have to love me, just say with your mouth that you love me, that’s enough.” For some reason, I could never bring myself to tell him that I loved someone else. He would even clasp my feet and plead with me to love him. He would get extremely upset if he found my phone busy. He even gave me his Facebook password.
My anguish lies precisely here: why can’t the one I love give me anything personal of his? My boyfriend had another relationship before; a few days after his breakup with that girl, I met him, but he didn’t tell me this when he started a relationship with me. My boyfriend doesn’t want me to go anywhere, but he goes wherever he pleases, and when he does go somewhere, he hardly calls me. On the other hand, the one I consider a friend inquires about everything—where I’m going, what I’m doing, tells me everything, wants to know about me. I don’t answer his calls very often because I’m not particularly interested in him. Yet when he stops calling me, my mood turns sour, and I behave badly with him. I become restless wondering whether he’s mixing with others, talking to others, giving time to others. I feel helpless at the fear of losing someone I don’t even want. When someone whose attention feels unbearable to me stops giving me that attention, I start missing him terribly.
My friend never talks to me about sexual matters,
while my boyfriend is only interested in talking to me about sexual matters. I want to talk with my boyfriend about our future and other things, but he doesn’t give time to discuss those topics—
if we’re not talking about sex, he hangs up with some excuse or other. Sometimes I wish
my friend would talk to me about sex,
but he
never brings up the topic on his own. I still haven’t told my friend anything about my relationship. Why I haven’t, I don’t know myself. I’m now confused about whom I actually love! The one I love—
whether he truly loves me back,
I can’t understand why? If the one who loves me,
if I start loving him back,
would he then start behaving like my boyfriend?
I simply want time from my friend,
and he
wants love from me. I want love from my boyfriend,
and he
simply wants time from me. This duality is driving me mad!
Sometimes I think I should distance myself from all this and focus on my studies and career, but for some mysterious reason my heart doesn’t agree to that either!
Thought: Two hundred seventy-one.
……………………………………..
How are you?
Fine. You?
Me too.
Who are you?
The name’s already given. And the rest………I am who I am!
I got into quite an argument with someone on your wall about a topic. Hope you don’t mind?
No.
You’re a bit too… well. Tell me, are you married?
(No response)
Okay, which writer’s books have you read the most,
or which writer do you know relatively more about?
(No response)
Damn!
Don’t bother me.
Know why I said damn?
I have a cousin who looks like you,
whom I really dislike, but she likes me. When you start looking like her,
my mood turns really sour. Tell me,
do you smoke cigarettes?
I sent you a text on your mobile. Didn’t you get it?
If you got it, where’s the reply?
Introduce yourself properly.
This is completely pointless work. What’s the use of introductions? Right now a question is really gnawing at my mind. Should I ask? Let me ask, how about it?
How do you manage to stay without smoking cigarettes?
I’ve seen that men smoke when they get excited. Tell me, does smoking reduce excitement?
Then I would have tried one!
If you won’t introduce yourself, don’t bother me,
please! Bye!
Okay, bye. You don’t seem all that annoyed, really. If you were, you would have blocked me long ago! That option is right there in your hands! And… oh yes, I’m human. I’m not sure if aliens have learned Facebooking yet.
What do you do? What’s your name? Where do you live?
It would be nice if I could just talk to your posts. A physical relationship with you, and a mental one with your writing. I mean, your body attracts my body, and your writing attracts my mind. Of course, physical attraction is largely dependent on the mind too. It’s true, you’re not beautiful to look at. But perhaps those who love you will find you beautiful enough. Love doesn’t come from physical beauty; rather, physical beauty comes from love. And love comes mainly from mental beauty or the habit of being together. These matters are consciousness-dependent. Anyway, my name is given, and I eat, sleep, study, defecate and urinate, work, annoy others. Why do you want to know what you have no need to know?
Baaaaaaal. Bye.
Sir, may I also say a “baal”? Bye! I suppose you didn’t like it when I called you unattractive. That’s it, isn’t it? Fine, you are beautiful! Should I say it like a hero? But which hero should I emulate? Alright then, you are as beautiful as the hero Chupparastam!
Please don’t disturb!
Okay, so sorry. Bye.
(No response)
Oh sorry! I’ve come running back to say one more thing. I saw you on the street today. Two were walking. The one with horns among them was you. You had a rope around your neck—not a suicide rope, but a rope for moving forward.
(No response)
I know, no more responses will come from you. Fine, I’ll construct a possible conversation myself:
I love you. Do you want anything else?
No. Damn! Go die somewhere far away! What am I supposed to do with all this pointless love? Mix it with Black Label and drink it? All this love-shove stuff is fake, only the body is real. There might be hypocrisy in mental love, but there’s never any hypocrisy in physical love. A bunch of romantic fools just love pointlessly… damn it all! What the hell are we doing for those who love us? And what the hell are those we love doing for us? At most maybe five people get some love, the rest just floats in the ocean. All this useless drama of love! My morning drinking mood is completely ruined! Anyway, good morning!
Which aspect of “The Swimmer and the Water Nymph” do you like? Different aspects of the same thing appeal to different people, that’s why I asked!
Hey, what do you mean which aspect do I like? What difference does it make if someone looks like Berniket or Katrina? (Even though Berniket isn’t beautiful, I like her—wonderful woman, speaks very sincerely.)
Are you saying that I’m not beautiful enough? Listen, sir, I’m not beautiful in that sweet, innocent love, doll-like romance sort of way, but beautiful in a way that’s meant for ***. You and I have something in common—I’m not beautiful, but I am sexy. And, like you, a bit irritating too!………Oh, but you don’t like hearing such things. Fine then, go on, you’re tasty, as like as a piece of lollipop! You’re a bit too sexy! (I know, you probably think I’m awful. There are billions of people in this world—if one person thinks poorly of me, what difference does it make? There’s nothing to worry about over this.)
(No response)
If anyone loves you, this much is certain—they’ll get lice in their hair. Don’t believe me? Go ask those who love you whether they have more lice than hair on their heads!
(No response)
I read your piece. Who is ‘Shubhra’ really? You yourself? Now tell me, why is your room so messy? Don’t your rules include keeping your room tidy!?
(No response)
What did you write here? Hey Man! U believe in love!? So funny……
“We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.”
(No response)
Don’t you have teeth? Can’t you speak? What was it I asked you again! I’ve completely forgotten!
(No response)
Won’t you reply? Fine, enough shamelessness for now! Let me tell you the final truth………love is merely another name for deception! You’re right when you say that only in one kind of sex is there no pretense—when it happens, both people know what’s happening, and that’s actually what’s happening! But when love happens, either both people or one person believes that what’s happening is love, when the actual event is something else! In sex for sex’s sake there’s no pretense, but sex for love’s sake is pretense itself! That’s why when body comes to body through bodily attraction rather than emotional pull, there’s no risk of danger or trouble.
Reflection: Two hundred seventy.
……………………………………..
How are things?
Just fine! Going through some uncertainties.
You say things so complexly! I don’t understand anything! You can do anything you want! I know!
Hmm, you’re telling me! When we like someone, we just assume they can conquer the world! It makes no sense! A boy fails his exams year after year, relentlessly, yet his guardian still loves to believe that his boy is tremendously talented!
Oh no!
You can do it if you want to! You’ve that rare quality! I’m telling you the truth!
You’ll return having conquered Paris!
Listen, everything here is so competitive! It’s not that easy!
You’ll see,
what I said will come true!
Hahaha………I
can’t handle this much stress! I’ll go back home and take the civil service exam! That’s better! I don’t like this anxiety-ridden life!
You’ve chosen to be chased. What’s the point of saying all this?
But, you can fit yourself there like a princess, I believe!
After studying so much, what will I ultimately do?
I don’t even know that,
so I’m quite confused! My cousin is an Oxford graduate, now she’s raising children and cooking rice! What was the point of all that studying?
Trust me, you can face competition!
I have not one bit of desire to find a job here or to settle
here! Then why am I going through all this hardship?
What illusion keeps me lingering here?
Listen madam,
life is like this. No one knows why they’re doing this and that. But, they do,
go on doing. Life is all about going on doing something we’ve no idea about!
Hmm, that’s true too!
You’re not doing anything original! What the generation before you did, you’re doing the same;
the amusing thing is, the generation after you will also do the same. Let me give you an example. We save money. We save a lot of money. But we don’t even know why we save it. The generation before us saved money,
following their example we also save money; the generation after us will also save. We can’t spend that money, before that we just up and die. We keep saving money to enjoy life, but we never get to enjoy that money,
everything ends before that!
Still, the act of saving money gives us pleasure. We find happiness in watching numbers grow. Whether those numbers have any real meaning at all,
we never think about that! All our thoughts,
worries, efforts—toward adding zeros to the right side of our savings figure!
The more zeros money has in life, the more empty life becomes! Do you understand?
I understand nothing! You spoke such simple words,
can such simple words be understood so simply?
I don’t see what’s so hard to understand! Life itself is a worthless thing! This
life has no meaning,
no grandeur. Macbeth was right:
Life … is a tale/ Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,/ Signifying
nothing. And listen,
I’m quite angry with you!
Why?
Misunderstanding! Don’t you see?
Oh, I see!
Because I delayed replying to your message?
You thought
I did it on purpose? Why suddenly get angry? Was it necessary to say so many things that day?
It’s a very old story, but you know,
the mark on my mind is still fresh!
When women’s hearts get scarred, they don’t heal easily. The mind doesn’t come with any SurfExcel!
Oh no!
None of that! Drop it! And listen, Don’t change your heart even if it
costs material failure. You’ve a beautiful heart, princess! There’s no such thing as winning, people just made that up. Remember this,
little one?
Thank you, motivational speaker! It’s not about winning or losing. I feel like I’m constantly chasing after meaningless work!
There’s no point to it. Anyway,
pray for me.
Don’t tag me like that. I didn’t expect that from you.
I wasn’t saying it for fun though.
I meant it. I actually was inspired,
it gets frustrating working here,
so I really liked your advice! Hey,
did you mind again? But I really said it from the heart! I wasn’t being sarcastic. Anyway, if you felt offended, I’m sorry. But I hope that you know me better to understand that I wouldn’t say anything hurtful to
anyone.
Actually, I don’t like to be tagged. I never mean to be so easily
judged. And after some bitter experiences, I’m even more annoyed!
So many of your words have matched exactly with my life!
I better listened to you earlier. I’ve learned by losing, by being cornered and getting knocked around. You’re not human,
you’re a genie. Little one?
And you mean so much to me! I wouldn’t be able to take it if you tagged me either. Seriously!
Well! That was close!
I thought you were misunderstanding me!
Anyway, pray for the genie’s future.
What is a beautiful future?
May the genie have a peaceful future.
Hmm, peaceful
is the perfect word. Exactly right!
I need peace!
I know your heart. You need ONLY
that. Success is just a byproduct.
Reflection: Two hundred seventy-one.
……………………………………..
We are 4
siblings. 2
brothers, 2 sisters. I’m in BBA third year,
in the Accounting Department. My elder sister will take her Master’s exam. One brother has been autistic since birth,
the other brother is disabled; they can’t speak properly, can’t hear well either. My father brought my brothers to the city to help them become capable. My elder brother completed diploma engineering from technical college and my younger brother completed HSC from BAUET. Because of their disabilities, everyone undervalues them. My elder brother used to work somewhere, but they mentally tortured him there,
so he
quit his job. My elder sister tutors all day,
and I stay home with mother.
My life’s battle began in July 2014, after my father’s death. Before that, I had gotten into a relationship with a boy from my department in college. My father died on the fifth day of that relationship. Our relationship was going well enough. Both our families knew about us. But in the midst of all this, certain behaviors of his created many disruptions in our relationship. He would insult our family in various ways, treat them with contempt, behave rudely with my family members. Eventually my family forbade me from pursuing anything further with him. All this left me mentally shattered. But I was most deeply hurt when I discovered that while he was in a relationship with me, he was also involved with another girl. Whatever the case, with my family’s support and my own efforts, I somehow managed to overcome this blow.
After my father’s death, many problems arose in our family. Having no source of income, we fell into great hardship. Father had left many things for us, but he hadn’t been able to leave anything properly organized. My elder sister struggled greatly to gather what could be recovered from father’s business, managing to collect enough to pay off many of our debts. She had to weather every storm, because my two elder brothers weren’t even around.
After the breakup with that boy, a senior from my college spoke to me about the matter. That senior had liked me for some time already. He had helped me in various ways with different tasks. He knew everything about my situation. Eventually he proposed to me as well. I told him right then that my life wasn’t simple. Despite this, he agreed. We entered into a relationship.
I was never happy in my second relationship either. He was one way before the relationship, but afterward I saw another face of his. We fought more often than not. He would find fault with everything about me. I wasn’t good, my family wasn’t good, nothing about me was good—he would say such things, even though I had told him everything beforehand. Recently we had a terrible dispute over some personal matters, and now he completely ignores me. When I try to initiate conversation myself, he shows his ego. Now he has blocked me from everything and is living his life alone. But he never once tells me whether he wants to continue our relationship or not.
What happened with my previous boyfriend last year at exactly this time is happening again this year at the same time with him. I simply cannot accept this. I never wanted to enter his life—he himself forced his way into mine, knowing everything full well. Despite this, why is he treating me this way? It seems to me that whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it deliberately. No matter how hard I try now, he will ignore me regardless! When I call, instead of answering, he turns off his phone. And on Facebook, Viber, WhatsApp, Imo—I’m blocked everywhere! I often feel that whatever trouble exists between us, if he wanted, he could fix everything and make our relationship normal again. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do, but for some strange reason, he doesn’t want to. I cannot accept this because I’ve made the same mistake twice. Is the outcome of love always suffering? He knows very well that I keep stumbling on life’s path, and forgetting all ego, shame, and stubbornness, I want to run to him as my only refuge in life, want to hold onto him, but he has closed all paths that lead to him.
My family’s condition is truly deplorable. My elder brother left his previous job and joined another, but the new job is even more difficult than the old one. Brother is too afraid to switch jobs again. My younger brother, being unwell, doesn’t work anywhere. My sister’s tutoring has decreased compared to before. Relatives, in the name of helping, humiliate us and conspire to take away what little property father has. When there’s no father in the family, there remains no shelter at all.
Everyone has always had many dreams about me. What my two elder brothers couldn’t achieve due to physical limitations, my mother dreams that I will fulfill that lack. I have many desires, want to go far. At the very least, I must do something that will let me see my mother happy, that will make my siblings’ suffering worthwhile. I deeply want to help my family. Everything is getting worse day by day. Mother is always worried about how her daughter will get married, who will look after her helpless sons!
I see no path forward. Wherever I look, I see only sorrow, pain, and despair. I fight every day and keep losing repeatedly. If my mental state were a little better, I could have kept the family somewhat well. But how can I manage that anymore? I often think it would have been better not to take that second chance in life. Failed love completely destroys life. Seeing the family’s suffering and my own terrible state brings all sorts of negative thoughts to mind. I’m losing every moment. I never imagined I would receive such a devastating blow from him. Being blinded by love, I’ve moved far away from my goals!
The family that has sacrificed so much for me—perhaps I will be able to give them nothing in return, for making the same mistake twice, for making whimsical decisions with my life, for surrendering myself to the wrong current in pursuit of fleeting pleasure without thinking of anyone else in the family. In trying to deceive my family, my entire life became a deception!
Reflection: Two hundred seventy-two.
……………………………………..
I am studying in my second year of intermediate college. I live in Bogura. My life has always been marked by drama. My father and mother had married for love. My mother was an excellent student. When she was in class ten, she eloped with my father. Then they began their household together. In the meantime, my mother got a job at a primary school. And my father was unemployed. Mother worked outside, while father stayed home to look after me and do the cooking. I was father’s princess. From childhood, I grew up in father’s affection. He would feed me without eating himself, always shielding me close to his heart. I was growing up happily.
But alas, happiness was not written in my fate. When I was five, my mother married someone else and left me and my father behind. When mother married that man, my father became like a madman. I understood nothing then, but somehow everything felt empty and hollow.
I think I am perhaps the only girl in this world who has attended the wedding feasts of both her father and mother. Yes, father remarried too. My maternal and paternal grandparents’ houses were side by side. I witnessed both their weddings, ate at both celebrations. Strange, isn’t it?
I was then a five-year-old girl. At an age when I should have been complete in my parents’ love, I lived like a street child. I stayed with my aunt then. I had previously attended a kindergarten school, later got admitted to a government primary school. I would see that everyone had their parents, while I had neither father nor mother, though both existed. Everyone’s parents would come to school with them, but not mine.
So when everyone had settled into their respective places, my maternal uncle came into my life as God’s blessing and gave me shelter at his feet. My uncle and aunt became my parents, and my uncle was my deity. That I am still alive today is because of my uncle.
When I was in class five at primary school, I heard one day that my father was no more. Father had died of a heart attack in his sleep. I lost my father. Earlier I knew that father wasn’t there for me, yet sometimes I would think—at least he’s alive! Thinking this would give me a kind of strength inside. From then I knew that father was neither before me nor anywhere else. I couldn’t even see my father one last time.
People would always tell me,
“You have two fathers,
two mothers.” Hearing this would hurt deeply. In any case,
Abbu left me forever. Abbu had remarried, and that household has a son. He must be around 6
years old now. If I were to seek refuge in that house,
out of fear, Abbu’s second wife has never made any contact with me.
To everyone’s surprise, I won a talent pool scholarship from that remote village while in class five. All credit goes to my nana-nani and my mama. Then I enrolled in high school for class six. I was terribly naive from childhood, hardly understanding what was happening around me. Perhaps it was because of this naivety that I could come this far,
otherwise my studies would have ended long ago. In life, not understanding everything has great importance. Anyway,
my high school was about 2
kilometers away from nana’s house. I would walk to school. No rickshaws or vans ran on that road.
I’m not particularly beautiful,
but on village roads, what happens is inevitable—I was the prime target of eve-teasers. Every day on the way to school, delinquent boys would make romantic advances. But as I said,
I was naive! I didn’t understand anything about love and romance. I would avoid them. I still wonder, even a harmless girl with an ordinary face like me became victim to such harassment!
Actually, for eve-teasers, any girl will do.
When I was in the village,
I barely studied at all. I would only read for an hour or two at night. Yet somehow, I always came first in every exam. From class six to class ten, I was first in every class. I got the talent pool scholarship again in JSC. Golden A+ came in SSC. But I know I don’t deserve any of this.
I loved reading storybooks. From class six onwards, I wanted to read many books,
but never got the opportunity. There was no library nearby from where I could borrow books to read. I certainly couldn’t afford to buy books! I had no knowledge of the real world. But wherever I was, whatever I could get my hands on, I would try to read it all.
When I was in class nine, one day a group of boys was sitting on the road. They harassed me without any reason. When I tried to run away, they forcibly tried to tear off my clothes. I might have been raped that day,
but at my screams, 4-5 elders came running from a field nearby and I was saved for that day. Allah saved me.
From that day onwards, some sense began to dawn on me. I didn’t tell my nana-nani everything. If I had, they might not have let me go to school anymore, and my education would have stopped!
No one can imagine how much suffering girls endure from village hooligans while going to school. If society’s vermin could be eliminated through brush fire, the rate of women’s education in this country would increase tremendously.
My mother lived in Bogura town at that time. She would inquire about me now and then. Through my maternal grandparents, Mother took me to Bogura. The condition was that I would have to look after her new family’s child—my stepbrother. I went to Mother after twelve years. And in that house, I never enjoyed any opportunities or privileges greater than those of a housemaid. My new father would beat me whenever he pleased, and even the little brother I was caring for would come to hit me right in front of his parents!
This is how I live. I don’t know what my Intermediate results will be like. Living isn’t particularly joyful, but for those of us whose lives are consumed by mere survival, the meaning of living becomes a journey toward reaching some path of light. I spend my days dreaming that dream. Let’s see what comes to pass……………
Reflection: Two hundred seventy-three.
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For nearly a year and a half, I’ve been spinning in a cycle of anguish. I simply cannot forget certain memories from my life. When I sit down to study, those memories invade my thoughts. I keep failing, unable to stand up again. Nothing comes of me; each of my days passes only in uncertainty. I have to cry a great deal. I know what the pain of intense weeping feels like! Those who don’t have to cry much will never understand this suffering.
I am a middle-class family’s daughter. One brother, one sister. I am the eldest. Father earns through great hardship in Saudi Arabia. Mother is a homemaker. I scored 4.06 in SSC from Science; 3.80 in HSC from Commerce. Now I’m in my third year studying Economics at a private college affiliated with the National University. Because I didn’t study properly for SSC and HSC, I couldn’t achieve good results. I didn’t get the chance to study at any government college. I didn’t understand my parents’ struggles much at that age.
Three years ago, I entered a relationship with a boy. Those days were going wonderfully. I was so happy that it seemed I had never felt this good in my entire life. He protected me so much that I was ready to do anything for him to honor his love. For his sake, I deprived myself of all the world’s pleasures. He alone was my meditation, my knowledge, my understanding, my world. I gave time only to him and did my own work as much as I could manage.
At the beginning of our acquaintance, his family’s financial situation wasn’t very good. Suddenly, due to improvements in their family business, their financial condition began to improve. Eventually they became quite wealthy. Then he would often say that I would have to adjust and get along with his family. I would have to become more qualified.
I began to notice some changes in him. Gradually he was becoming somehow very arrogant and quick-tempered. After two years of our relationship, he began creating distance between us over various trivial matters. Whenever I tried to bridge that distance, he would tell me: First you become qualified, now is the time to build your career. Unless you can prove yourself by achieving something, my family will never accept you. I will marry you, but until then, no more romance.
In this way, she kept me going with false reassurances for another year. And gradually began to reduce contact with me. Slowly, with various excuses, she started poisoning the relationship. I could sense this sudden change in her, but the good memories of two years, the emotions, the pull — because of all this, I couldn’t bring myself to think of letting her go.
Eventually she made it clear to me that I wasn’t suitable for her family, that I needed to be smarter and more beautiful. By giving me two years of her time, she had made a grave mistake — her entire time had been utterly wasted. She no longer wanted to look back. She wanted to live now without me. She had found someone much better than me. For her and her family, I was completely unsuitable.
Hearing her words, it seemed impossible for me to go on living in that moment. Then one voice within me kept saying, “What will you accomplish by staying alive? All your dreams have shattered! Every moment of the remaining days of your life will be haunted by memories of the time spent with her, and they will destroy you!” Another voice said, “Remember Allah! He has said, ‘O My servants! Call upon Me, I will answer your call. Those who have wronged themselves, do not despair of Allah’s mercy.’”
I remained alive. I am deeply grateful to my father and mother. They accepted such a mistake of mine with smiling faces. When I broke down, my mother gave me immense support.
I am alive, truly, but living with so much humiliation and deprivation from happy memories, failure to fulfill my parents’ expectations, and a heart full of such regrets is very difficult. For the past year and a half, I have only been crying. I try to study, but I keep breaking down. I got second class in my second year, and my third year is almost over, but I can’t study anything at all.
How much pain I endure living without her, yet she feels not the slightest difficulty living without me. Because I loved, I spend my days with such torment. Did she never love me then? Not even a little? Does she never feel bad remembering old memories? Does she feel no tenderness for me at all? The new person who has come into her life — has that girl so enchanted her with love that she remembers nothing of me anymore? Why could I never learn to love with the casual, transferable kind of love that she practiced?