The Plaster of Thought's Wall: 143

Thought: Nine Hundred Ninety-Five

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One. Despite countless reasons for destruction, when the pull between two people refuses to be destroyed — that is love.

When there is no reason for destruction yet the pull between two people refuses to be destroyed — that is called attachment or infatuation.
Two. I have opened the ledger of life's credits and debits,

In exchange for love I received handfuls of neglect,

And in exchange for neglect I took infinite remorse.
Three. Only a happy person can make another person happy, or you could say: whoever keeps you happy is themselves a happy person. The rest are merely part of the clan of struggling souls!
Four. Teach the bird to fly, or give it the chance to learn. Then let it go. If it flies away, so be it. The bird that flies away after learning to fly was never truly yours; and if it stays, the bird was truly yours all along. However, not teaching the bird to fly or obstructing its learning for fear that it will fly away is surely a kind of defeat. Birds exist to fly; leave the matter of flying away or flying back to the bird itself. Such firm character is called true courage.
Five. Let them speak. Speaking doesn't make it so!
Six. Today at Netrakona Ramakrishna Mission I spoke on the first five verses from Drig-Drishya-Viveka. It was an extraordinary experience. That people could receive discussions on Vedanta with such deep absorption through the heart was beyond even my imagination. The entire ashram compound was filled to capacity the whole time! I was truly amazed.

I enjoyed it immensely. I can't remember the last time I delivered a talk with such joy. Endless gratitude to everyone at Netrakona Ramakrishna Mission and Vivekananda Parishad. The organizers' sincerity will remain in my memory for a long time.

Gratitude to Iman Maharaj of Mymensingh Ramakrishna Mission for bringing me here and enriching me spiritually. Without his encouragement, I would never have had the audacity to speak on Drig-Drishya-Viveka!
Seven. Don't think me so simple — I know how to wait, still as prayer.
Eight. You want your child to learn to share. Yet you yourself cannot share your husband with anyone. Now tell me, what is your child learning from you?

(Curse all you like; I'll see in the morning. Going to sleep now. Good night!)
Nine. Some build themselves for the greed of attention, while others destroy themselves for it.
Ten. Keep distance from those who complain too much. Then you'll see the complaints diminish.
Eleven. No one but a madman can stay with a madman. So before you yourself go mad, step back to a safe distance from the madman.
Twelve. Are you listening?
Light draws light,

Darkness too draws only darkness.

Wind also chases after wind;

Why then do you draw me?

Why do I find only 'you'?
Can I become your shadow?
Thirteen. One day on a moonlit evening of Chaitra, I will see the sky while flying through clouds — this wish of mine has not been fulfilled.
I would have a two-room house, all walls pristine white, often sitting on the open balcony with green carpet spread, drinking tea in the middle of the night while watching the sky,

In the drawing room there would be a large black piano, I would play melodies on that piano... the days of fire will end one day...
No, this wish of mine too has not been fulfilled, the days of fire have not ended either!
How short this life is, how tiny these little desires, yet these small longings never get the chance to grow larger. A life spent saying "everything will be fine one day" ends with nothing ever becoming right after all.
Alas, while we're still breathing, we never quite manage to truly live!
**Fourteen.** Even when someone exists in your life, if you still have to cry, I believe in crying alone.
If someone, even while alive, becomes a case of "let's assume they're here," then I believe in considering them dead. And I do consider them so.
Look how much suffering that brings!
Rather than wandering about like this, I'd prefer to die if necessary—that would be better.
**Fifteen.** When I feel low, I go straight to buy flowers. That's what flowers are like, really—they intoxicate you with their various colors, fill you with different fragrances—though these days I hardly find any scent in flowers. Do you?
I used to go mad with the fragrance of tuberoses, yet now tuberoses have no smell, as if they were plastic flowers. Flowers like bakul, jasmine, and shiuli aren't within reach anymore. Not in the city, certainly, and even in villages they've become scarce.
This decline is natural. Everyone now wants likes, comments, shares; no one has time to bother with fragrances anymore.
So, as I was saying. Buying flowers makes me feel better. But I've discovered something new. Flowers provide temporary relief, but don't completely heal the heart.
And trying to mask sadness with flowers or anything else is quite wrong. When we're sad, we try to divert our minds here and there; this never truly heals the heart.
What mistaken notions I've lived with all this while!
**Sixteen.** Bidhan,
This is my last letter to you. Read it; it won't take much time. Sorry—not a letter, a poem-letter. You know I can't write anything in plain prose.
Bidhan, though it hurts to be without you,

I've learned.

How to manage this and that, or this and such, without you...

Pressuring my mind, I've forced myself to do everything.
My letters wait only for you. The last two lines of my poems, in your absence, become fragments of paper that lie face-down before my wastebasket.
I had even kept aside the Santiniketan sari, thinking I'd wear it when you came.

Nothing happened.
Never mind.

I won't be sad.

I'm letting you go.
I troubled you a lot, didn't I?

Be well from now on.

May all the happiness, all the peace of the world be yours.
Yours truly,

Srishti
**Thought: Nine hundred ninety-six**
**One.**

- Do you understand me?

- That's hardly simple.
- What's difficult?

- Staying close to you.
- How am I?

- Always hiding!
- Do I love?

- Don't you also hate?!
- Don't I love, perhaps?

- You never said so!
- Is the distance between stars equal to the distance between you and me?

- Let it be then; what does it matter anyway?
**Two.** Anik,
This is Shyama's last letter. I won't write much, won't take much time.
You had said you'd stay beside me in my sadness, illness, and difficult times. Yet you don't even know if I'm still alive.
And you've been dead in my eyes for ages now. When I remember you now, I don't feel like crying anymore—I feel like laughing.
Why did you give such false assurances? Though if someone of your grand stature didn't play with the emotions of two, four, ten girls, what would be the point of that status anyway!
How many nights I wept, couldn't sleep, tossed and turned restlessly... where were you?

Where do you actually live? I've seen on Facebook that you're with everyone except me, that you like everyone except me.

Anyway, I can't write anymore. I feel tormented now.
Let me say one thing before I go, Anik. I know you'll come back to me.

You know, don't you, that even now not everything in this world can be bought with money. If it could, I wouldn't have had to search for you so desperately like this after six months, a year.
Your girlfriend survived without you, walked this long path all alone. You were nowhere to be found. You were somewhere else, giving grand lectures about love to many others, composing poetry about love.

Anik, do you know what people like you are called?
Losers.
You don't know. When you lose everything forever, then you'll understand.

I'm going now. I feel disgusted with myself, with this letter too.
Yours truly,

Your ex

Shyama
Three. When I speak, I only say the unnecessary parts; the necessary parts remain unspoken. Hoarding the words I need to say, a hunger for words has accumulated in my belly. After eating my fill of rice, I think—have I satisfied my hunger? Through all these unnecessary words I've spoken, the companions and listeners I've gathered around me will certainly not listen to my necessary words, nor will they be able to value them.
I accept all this; yet these days words seek me out desperately—words that cannot find suitable people.
Four. O God,

Grant me power.
No, no, not for revenge;

I don't want such foolish things as being placed far above those who ignored me, who pushed past me and moved ahead.
Just wash me away, erase me from all their lives, from all their memories.

I've learned by now that my presence or absence means the same to them.
Make me invisible.

I only want to watch from afar, see in how many ways, in how many colors they celebrate my absence.

Without witnessing their celebration, my funeral procession cannot begin.
However much they may scorn me in life, I know that a handful of people will indeed join my final journey, carrying two flowers in their hands.

At least this much I have achieved.
Five. Some people come to Facebook purely to swagger and bully. They'll visit various people's walls and dictate in threatening tones, even with intimidation, how one should speak, how one should think. The moment they see an opinion or position they dislike, they'll fly into a rage and pounce. You may well dislike my views and ways, but that doesn't give you the right to try to silence me through force rather than reason. There will always be differences of opinion and approach—if you don't like something, learn to ignore it. Did you struggle through all these years of education just to become a bully in today's world? Think about it yourself—what did you gain from learning to read and write?
Six. In your hesitation or in this waiting,

what terrible erosion I shall become,

alas, you do not know!

That too you do not know!
Seven. If you want to draw the best performance from any artist, you must give the artist the opportunity to perform exactly in their own way. You must accept that during that time, the stage belongs to them, not to you or anyone else. If you fill the stage with people who are 'worthy by virtue of position or rank,' then it's better not to bring the artist at all, or better for the artist not to go there.
If you want Nachiketa to sing, you must create the opportunity for him to sing in his own way. You bring Nachiketa, then use this as an excuse to put all the grandees on stage to give speeches. Is this right? Who did the audience come to the program for? If the organizers don't keep this in mind, you might get Nachiketa's songs, but you won't get Nachiketa's soul in those songs. This is why being a good actor isn't enough—you also need a good filmmaker. Even from mediocre artists, you can draw work that transcends time through skill, if you know that technique. Have you seen Bicycle Thieves? Can you believe that those who acted in it had never even stood in front of a camera before in their lives? Yes, this is where the filmmaker's brilliance lies!
To plow a field, you need oxen; bringing a goat won't work, bringing a lion won't work either.
Eight. Demanding free grass without giving milk? What kind of cow is this!
Nine. Because I didn't get you, I lost so much,

Because you got me, you didn't lose even half of that!
Ten. What isn't written in fate slips away even when held close to the heart.

What is bound by fate returns surely, even when kicked away.
Eleven. There's no point in suffering and crying. What didn't happen wasn't meant to happen. If it's not in your fortune, it won't be in your life.
Twelve. I know very well she doesn't love me! I just wonder why she tolerates me without loving me!
Thirteen. Hard work alone doesn't accomplish anything—everyone works hard these days.
To achieve something, you need some kind of distinction.
Fourteen. Just because someone in your family reaches a high position doesn't mean you've earned the right to become worthless. The beauty of their crown certainly doesn't make you beautiful. Walking with crutches doesn't make one lame; walking by leaning on others' legs does. Lameness dwells not in the body, but in the mind.
Fifteen. —This busy city, this heart weary from clamor, somehow it all becomes calm when it comes to you...why?

—Pet names are terribly contagious, you know!

—Hmm, life is truly peaceful!!
Thoughts: Nine-hundred Ninety-seven

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One. People's tails inevitably show themselves in the face of various events. It's convenient to recognize them when they do.
In this country, there's essentially one '-ism': opportunism.
Most people here are of the guerrilla type—they have no position of their own, they read the lay of the land and change their stance in an instant—wherever the rain falls, that's where the umbrella goes. And the matter of duplicity is already in the blood of the intellectually impoverished! The more you mingle with them, the more you'll get burned—that's absolutely certain!
Two. Be very careful when mixing with broken people! In trying to fix them, you might end up broken yourself! It's better to learn to consume alcohol, cigarettes, movies, music, tea, and coffee alone. Broken people have a different religion, a different country, even a different brain. It's amazing that they're still alive after taking so much damage! You won't mesh with them. Unless you can mingle with great skill, you might fall into grave danger. It's much better to be alone than to fall into trouble.
Three. I've never received as much satisfaction from those who didn't send me away as I've felt remorse for those who went back—those whom I sent away.
Four. Now tell me, you who stare in various ways at your fellow passenger's mobile screen while traveling by bus or train—do you end up seeing many secret things on their phones? Your eyes will go cross-eyed from staring like that someday! What will you do then? Does the government pay you unemployment benefits for prying into other people's personal belongings like this?
Five. It's because you speak like that that I am like this!
Six. There are some people with whom you don't have to think so much when mixing. Their inside and outside are the same, there's no duplicity in their heart or mind. They say what they have to say directly, they know how to mingle with people easily, there's not an ounce of pretense in their character. Such people never mix with anyone with ulterior motives. They understand the meaning of friendship. (These are undoubtedly people of a rare species!)
I mainly mix with such people. You can open your heart and mingle with them without putting extra strain on your brain. They don't embarrass you with praise, nor do they annoy you by judging unnecessarily. Such people are never conservative about any matter in the world; they prefer busyness, so they either accept or avoid—they don't sit down to research or write treatises; they know how to take life simply; their behavior and conversation never become a source of anyone's irritation.
I really enjoy mixing with this type of person; that's why I mingle with the person beside me, or to put it more clearly, I don't miss the opportunity when I get a chance to mingle. Among friends, he's known as Arup. Arup bhai is not like ten other ordinary people—he's an extremely talented, refined, well-spoken, and sincere person. He's simultaneously religious and completely free of bigotry, an educated, elegant, well-organized gentleman. His bungalow is right at the top of the hill—one of the most beautiful houses I've ever seen.
He studied at RUET, but isn't an engineer by profession—he's a deeply trusted name in the Ispahani Group: Golam Mostafa Arup. He's one of my old senior friends. Forgetting the age difference and without keeping the slightest discomfort in mind, you can talk with Arup bhai for hours on end; I took that opportunity today as well. You learn many things from conversing with him, and as a bonus, there's joy too!
It's amusing—Arup bhai has found a life companion who perfectly matches his temperament. When a life partner also becomes an intellectual companion, what incompleteness could possibly remain in life!
Seven. Four monks from the Ramakrishna Mission came to our house. Their companionship brings immense joy. What kind of joy this is cannot be conveyed in writing—it must be felt. There are many paths to nurture the soul, but among them, the companionship of monks is the simplest. When I get such an opportunity, I try to receive it with a bowed head.
Eight. You fear solitude, yet you also want to love! I don't understand this!
Relationships are the mothers of solitude. Can a mother ever stay away from her child?
Nine. Sometimes it feels like God doesn't grant peace to good people.
God supposedly tests good people.
I understand all of this, but why doesn't He grade the exam papers? Why doesn't He announce results after grading?
Or am I simply not a good person? If that's the case, then why does He test me so much?
Ten. Those who constantly chatter about BCS are not human beings—they are dragons; fire shoots from their mouths. They don't see people as human, but as cadres or cadre-ghosts. For them, life means nothing but BCS! Stay at least a hundred yards away from such psychotic lunatics.
Pathetic!
Eleven. Couldn't even become a rickshaw-puller in life! If I could have been a rickshaw-puller, beautiful women wouldn't avoid me so much—instead, they would eagerly approach me, calling out with sweet voices! What's the point of staying alive! Or if I could have been an Australian cow! How carefully people would have put me on a plane and brought me to the country with such affection!
My life is passing by in sorrow after sorrow!
Twelve. Aren't you that girl who used to pick lice from people's heads as a child and crush them between your fingernails with such satisfaction? And now you have all this fastidiousness about the world!
Thirteen. Bangladeshi people simultaneously hate America and want to go to America!
Fourteen. Brother, there are terrible side effects to being poor!
Fifteen. After raising a child with so much care, the child leaves the parents and goes abroad, and stays there. In most cases, parents cannot leave the country to join their child and spend their final years in considerable loneliness.
How do you view this situation?
Sixteen. - Are you the type who believes "out of sight, out of mind"?

- I'm the type who "keeps cherished in the depths of heart even when out of sight."

- Reluctant to express?

- Don't want to share the burden, you know!
Seventeen. If you must go, then go.
Just don't

disappear

before leaving.
Thoughts: Nine Hundred and Ninety-Eight

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One. Beauty is peace, peace beauty.

Peace is greater than love.
Love+No peace=No love

No love+Peace=Love

Love+Peace=Heaven
Two. Never trust anyone hastily. It's possible they don't bathe every day!
Three. Life became filled with externalities.
I don't like it anymore!

Listen, will you be my home?
Four. Chowdhury Saheb, don't threaten me with cold water. I may be poor, but I'm hot!
Five. Brother, I'm desperately searching for that one person who isn't close to any MP or honorable minister!
Six. Not all busyness means being busy.

Some busyness means: your face is ugly, so you stay quiet.
Seven. Those you love, you can find time for even in the midst of busyness. And those you don't love, you don't feel like giving time to even when you're free.
Eight. Just as being called 'brother' doesn't increase respect, being called 'sir' doesn't diminish it either. So one should address people according to their position and relationship.
Nine. — Tell me, does all darkness truly disappear into the depths of light?

— Some darkness retains its distinctiveness even under that blanket of light.

— Then let us keep some more of our peculiar darkness... entirely our own.
Ten. I have a trait that I'm sharing; you may follow it if you wish:
I either accept or ignore; I never research.
Eleven. Those who, before accomplishing anything in life, stay constantly busy with who did what and who didn't — they usually can't accomplish much in the end.
Of course, what new will they do! They're already doing something! Life will pass well just doing those things! People who lag behind remain behind forever.
Unemployed people are the busiest!
Twelve. Mixing with people who judge others constantly is quite troublesome. Even when you have a good relationship with them, you'll notice they want you to follow some format that pleases them, and the relationship is good only because you're following that format. The moment you step out of that format, they'll come after you too. They believe that only what they think is right, everything else is wrong. They have something to say about everything in the world. Speaking is their right, because they are pure people and their judgment is infallible. If you don't agree with their opinions and ways, they'll waste their precious time coming after you. These are generally hypocritical by nature.
Such people are truly very dangerous!
Thirteen. I shared with you some moments from visiting the Mahamaya temple, over 150 years old, and the century-old Kali temple established by folk poet Mukunda Das.
Ancient religious structures have a strange power to touch the soul intimately.
Fourteen. I block without a moment's thought. Why? Because I need peace more than people. What will I do with people if my peace is destroyed? Why don't you block? Are you running for election? If you're not running for election, what's the point of tolerating painful people? Peace, not people. So, don't explain, simply block.
Fifteen. You don't need a mobile phone to become a topper in the civil service exam.

And, you don't need a mobile phone even to have a girlfriend.
Sixteen. Your morning begins with your lover's good wishes, your day ends with your lover's good night;

Meanwhile, my morning begins with offers for cleaning services including termite-cockroach-bedbug extermination, my day ends with GP and BL's romantic songs.
Your lover takes care of you; customer service workers take care of me.
...and you're telling me to be free of envy!
I can't do it, Shubhobrato! I'm not that noble! If I were that noble, I too would have a lover... like you do, and she would love me very much.
Of course, God doesn't love me either... what fault is it of women!
When you extend your hand, your beloved seeks shelter in your warm embrace; when I extend mine, mosquitoes begin setting up house at my feet. So today you are the lover, and I am the killer.
Shubhobrata, I'm not asking you to give my mobile number to your girlfriend; I'm asking you to let me be jealous in my own way.
You all call me petty; yet you never once said that I too had wanted to be great!
Girl, why are you like this!
Sixteen. Brilliant minds don't need teachers, only friends. Understanding this makes it easier to get along with such people.
Seventeen. Women's infallible weapon: bad behavior.

Men's infallible weapon: good behavior.
Eighteen. Even a bad old wife is better than a new one.
 Thought: Nine-Hundred Ninety-Nine

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One. : What are you doing, Shikha?

: Looking at stars, see there!

: Are you very angry with me?

: No. I want to become a star in the sky like you, Shantanuda. See, if I wish, no one will be able to touch me, speak to me. If I become a star, people won't even notice me. How wonderful that would be.

: Why are you lying that you're not angry?

: ....................

: Shikha, once you become a star you'll understand how difficult it is to come back down to earth! Of course you won't understand now—earthly people never know the stories of stars.
Two. If you want to become someone special...
Don't follow just anyone's advice; never listen to advice from someone you wouldn't turn to when you actually need counsel.
Never give unsolicited advice to someone who is special to you; people who give unsolicited advice are usually worthless.
Three. The other day I posted about an old Hanuman temple in Kushtia. Seeing some learned scholars' comments there, I was irritated as usual. Their point was: why am I supporting the worship of Hanuman; I'm bad, I'm stupid, I'm an ass; and so on and so forth.
Some people simply don't understand the meaning of my post. A religious site that carries at least 130 years of history and tradition is undoubtedly very important. Where's the harm in talking about it?
What is peace? Learning to respect others' beliefs—that is peace. They can't or won't understand even this simple thing.
Apparently I'm a follower of Hanuman, a fan of Hanuman, promoting wrong things, and what not! If you think I'm a Hanuman follower and that this is my mistake, then why do you follow me? Are you monkeys then?
Learn to respect everyone's religious beliefs and paths. The first step to becoming great: acquiring a secular consciousness. Even if you don't want to become great, that's fine, just don't bother people—that's enough.
Four. After many years I went to the sacred premises of Jagadbandhu Sundar. I first became interested in Lord Jagadbandhu's philosophy through reading books by philosopher and writer Dr. Mahanamabrata Brahmachari. His contribution to the propagation and spread of Vaishnava philosophy is infinite. He worked throughout his life in the service of beings, secularism, and the pursuit of knowledge. For those whose place in society was at the very bottom, Jagadbandhu Sundar became the kinsman of their souls, their supreme friend. One saying of the Lord appeals to me greatly: Write on your wall at home—gossiping forbidden.
Five. Those who have no shame get blocked.

Those who have no time do the blocking.
Which party you'll join in the new year is, of course, your personal matter.
Six. In Kushtia town, there's a nearly 130-year-old temple dedicated to Hanumanji. Here I observed how Hanumanji, the eleventh avatar of Mahadev, is worshipped as an integral part of the daily prayers and festivals, primarily by the Marwari community.
Tuesday is Hanumanji's birthday; therefore, every Tuesday morning there's a special prayer service at the temple. Besides this, many people from various sects of the Sanatan faith worship Hanumanji every Saturday to escape the wrathful gaze of Shani Dev. With the faith of finding deliverance from various kinds of troubles, people across the world have been worshipping Hanumanji for thousands of years.
I had the good fortune of participating in this morning's prayers at the temple; I found spiritual fulfillment.
Seven. When talking to someone makes you feel they're disparaging you or your community, block them without a second thought; you'll be better off. Those whose acceptance you neither seek nor need—never burden yourself by tolerating them at the cost of your peace of mind.
Eight. Stay away from those who constantly interrogate. If you can't distance yourself completely, at least remove them from your heart. Don't interrogate others, and don't let others interrogate you. This will keep both mind and body well.
Happy New Year!
P.S. If the police ever catch you, it might be wise not to remember the advice from this post's first paragraph.
Nine. If you want to live well, don't waste time explaining yourself to those who don't need explanations; let them assume whatever they wish.
Ten. I know what to do when the heart feels heavy; but I don't know what to do when it remains heavy day after day.
It feels like my hands and feet are going numb, my vision is blurring, I'm writing letters in disorder. Something keeps making a continuous buzzing sound inside my head, which I have no power to silence; yet this same me possesses the ability to heal many people's hearts!
The powerless places of powerful people are terrifying!
Eleven. Eid no longer brings me joy. The mere thought of going to the market to buy new clothes brings on a fever. I don't even feel uncomfortable celebrating Eid in old clothes. The salami that used to be the main attraction of Eid now irritates me the most.
When Eid comes, I realize how alone I am. My own people are having a beautiful Eid celebration while leaving me behind—this hurts deeply. Though I can manage myself throughout the year, when Eid approaches, I miss that person terribly.
I can no longer pretend.
Eid has become a source of dread for me. May Eid never come to my life again to remind me of old wounds.
Twelve. Setting out to weave a quilt, I wove stories instead,

Counting not nights of love, but only days of separation.
What you said while hiding your truth is by no means the lie I told,

Though everyone's story of parting may differ, the parting itself befalls us all.
The person who knows how to love too much never found a lover,

Despite all my grand proclamations, I see that one winter's month truly hasn't passed!
Where is truth's backbone now? I keep only the search for lies,

Watching countless weddings on paper every day.
Thirteen. Listen, someday I'll leave everything behind and go, won't I? But even if I leave this world, I'll never leave you.
I'll become alone with you. I'll steal away the you that lives within you. You'll exhaust yourself searching frantically for yourself, but I... I won't let you belong to yourself.
You will remain intimately mine. In my stories, my poetry, my tears, my conversations, in the melancholy of my afternoons, in the longings of my nights. Only you will exist all around me. I will chant nothing but your name.
Telling Facebook such things is quite unnecessary, really. But if I write these emotions here, Facebook will dutifully remind me of everything on this day, year after year. That's why I've written it all down.
Oh, I made a small mistake. You aren't an emotion—you are my entire life.
Reflection: One Thousand

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One. As long as you make me weep,

I will continue to live.
You will keep my heart bleeding,

and I will keep writing.
Without some major turmoil in the head, and without the ability to feel life's tiny, trivial knocks with devastating intensity, who has ever managed to write?
I never wanted to write.

Your neglect, my tears,

your silence, my resentment,

your crooked smile, my imagination...

My desperate attempts to hold on tight and your efforts to wrench yourself away from me—

these are what compel me to write... as if for eternity.
Stop, please. Don't torment me anymore. If I suffer this much, I might actually become a writer one day.
I don't want to be a writer, never have—walking this thorn-strewn path is not my calling.
Two. I have a cousin who's in sixth grade. My aunt is nearly killing her with cadet college coaching, but even if she gets selected, the aunt won't send her there because she's her only child. This sixth-grader has already finished studying seventh and eighth-grade material. The aunt does all this simply to say, "My daughter qualified for cadet college, you know, but we didn't send her."
I have another cousin, three years old; can't even speak properly yet. My uncle's wife makes her sit down to study twice a day without fail. The child hasn't even found her voice, yet she struggles so pitifully to recite poems!
My niece is in second grade. The other day she came and said, "I didn't sleep all night, I have a headache." I asked why. She said she'd stayed up all night finishing third-grade coursework!
If these are examples of awareness, then their mothers will surely chase after civil service exams in a few years.
Witnessing such spectacles, I think to myself that I'm not the only confused one in this world, and instantly all my sorrows vanish. These children and their mothers are all my fellow travelers, my competitors; because both these mothers and children are equally confused.
And when your competitors are fools, the confidence that surges within you, brother... it's just like that! I'm being serious—nothing else gives such a wonderful feeling!
No, I keep falling behind in life's battle! I must enter the competition. If I don't beat my own drum, who else will? Who will benefit from sitting idle? I must beat my own drum. No one else is ahead of me anymore!
Three. The talented can never be held back. They will find some way to break free. Through one path or another, they will certainly carve out their place. You cannot stop them by pulling them down, by harming them, by breaking them mentally—no amount of such efforts can halt them. Rather, the more you try to stop them, suppress them, hold them back from behind, the more forcefully and powerfully they emerge, truly in the guise of heroes.
Four. How do you speak such drivel, O accomplished one,

I listen in wonder, only listen.
1. What suddenly comes over you, brother? Why do you post so many writings all at once? It's difficult to read! You shouldn't post without informing me beforehand.
2. Brother, are you a boy or a girl? One moment you write about boys, then immediately after about girls. Brotherrrr, what I'm suspecting better not be true! Are you...
3. Since you're online so late at night, why don't you come to inbox for a bit? I had some private matters to discuss openly about BCS guidelines.
4. Sir, my height is 5 feet 5 inches. That's not my question. I know my height is quite good; besides, I'm quite good-looking too, you know. But my question is, can my 5 feet 4 inch boyfriend choose police cadre... under the girlfriend's height quota?
5. Brother, I'm a mother of two children. I can't study properly, so I'm very worried. I want to make my elder son a cadre, so I'm studying myself, because he's still in school, and by the time he grows up, competition will increase even more, so I'm studying myself to reduce it. I've even taken admission in coaching for BUET. In this age, one must stay this far ahead, don't you think?
6. All this crying for your girlfriend, writing so much, brother—she still didn't come back. Does anyone waste time like this!
7. I don't want motivation, brother. I've done something very bad. If only you could give a solution... I fell prey to an evil genie, brother. Now I'm pregnant. How do I tell my family that I'm carrying a genie's child? Please, help me.

Special Note: Nobody should abuse me. This could happen to any of you too; and if anyone abuses me, their unborn child will be reduced to ashes by the genie's curse, I'm telling you.
8. Brother, even though you're a boy, I like you. Can't we date? Times have changed, haven't they? You should change with the times too.
9. All these books you buy—you don't read them, do you just show off? Such pointless exhibitionism! Does anyone read anything after getting a job?
10. Brother, I'm in class three. When I grow up, I want to be tall and fair like you; please pray for me.
11. Why did you block my real ID? Did you think it would remain secret that you've joined hands with coaching businessmen? I'll open thousands of fake IDs and tell everyone this truth; I'll expose your real face. Muahahaha...
12. Brother, I know everything about customs cadre; everything means everything. But I just got admitted to college. The job is still far away, so I'm suffering from great depression now. I don't like college studies, I want to become a celebrity customs officer like you. Give me some advice.
Five. Why are boys generally more creative than girls?
Because to make girls happy, a boy has to invent new words and deeds. Getting girls' attention—is that child's play!
On the other hand, a girl never has to work so hard. Boys become happy just seeing a girl.
Living as a man is no easy task, bro!
Six. : In times like these, when winter hovers just at the edge, I feel such longing, Surbhi.

: Oh, I see.

: Don't you feel it?

: No.

: Right, you wouldn't, that's only natural. You're a calculating person, practically a robot.

: Yes, you're absolutely right. But I wasn't born a robot — I became one, slowly.

: Surbhi, you mean you've loved too! Unbelievable!

: You're slightly mistaken, Asif. I never fall in love; I love. My love is like a form of spiritual practice for me. So when I attach myself to someone, I can never detach again. That's why I won't get involved with you either. I won't get involved with anyone for whom love and being in love are the same thing. Because as you said, I'm calculating! Absolutely right! Beyond calculation, Surbhi will never again spread her fragrance. Never again!
Seven. Everyone is available if you are ready to pay the price in the right way.
Eight. Always stay by my side. Never leave me, not even for my own good. Know that without you, I have no good left.
 Reflection: One Thousand and One

………………………………………………………………   
One. I love you, but I cannot find you.

You don't love me, but I keep appearing before your eyes again and again...
The very person I want to avoid — I keep falling in front of them, over and over!
"Are you still the same as before?" — such things aren't asked. Out of politeness, I don't even ask "How are you?" anymore!
It hurts so much, you know?
I can never say again, "I'm doing just fine!"
I can never look into your eyes again. How many wounds inside my chest are screaming to speak — who can I tell?
*Jee mein aata hai tere daaman mein sar chupake hum, rote rahe, rote rahe...*
Two. Even with everything, people suffer from loneliness. Actually, there's no proper definition of loneliness at all.
Loneliness has its own styles too. Sitting alone at home or having no one beside you isn't necessarily loneliness. Some people actually feel more alone when they see crowds.
Loneliness is a lifelong journey. Just as you can't spend your entire life cherishing and nurturing loneliness even if you want to, that same you cannot hide the feeling of loneliness even if you gather thousands of people around yourself.
People become most alone when they're with other people. The best way to escape loneliness is to stay alone with yourself.
Three. I wander around you all, carrying the same pain it takes to write a poem, but none of you can grasp it.
Why would you? Poetry, after all, is just a cheap thing to most people.
But only I and my God know the burden of carrying this cheap thing... just as some know how to be intoxicated without drinking wine.
The person who applies an intoxication more precious than wine like kohl around both eyes — do you call them a poet, or poetry?
I call it a mirage... an illusion...
Four. Among all the ways you've killed me, one of the primary ones is saying nothing at all, staying completely silent. What hurts more is thinking that this saying nothing causes me greater pain, and knowing this, you do it anyway.
I don't know what you gain from it.
You are a human being, truly! Salutations to you!
Not everyone can strike like this!
Of course, not everyone can endure such repeated blows to the chest and die either!
Five. After you entered my life, I became someone entirely different. How do I even write about this?
The Creator has introduced me to such strange beauty that you cannot even imagine! My life changed in an instant. I still cannot believe that this me was once that me.
Thank you for coloring my life. I never thank you face to face, but I always express my gratitude.
So much more to say. How much should I write? Do you read? Will you understand? I think not.
Our being together was like magic.
But the Creator, you, your social system, your ego, your neglect, your busyness... everything together, everyone together pulled you away from me, separated you from me.
You don't know how great a loss I have suffered. Just remember this one thing... love should never be severed like this.
Six. The black darkness of night will lift; rosy sunlight will come, golden evening.
I await that day.
No matter how busy and weary you are today, I know you will return. You will surely return to my chest. Laying your head in my lap, you will pour all your secret words into my ears... everything that has burned you like poison all this while. I know of all your pain. I sit waiting to hear it from your lips. Come quickly.
I know you have no one to speak of that deathly agony except me.
Listen, I am here. Come quickly.

I wait.
Seven. My body trembled, my breath grew heavy. I felt it would be better if I could die right then. She and I were so close that her breath touched my face, and mine touched her chest. Two buttons of her shirt were open, her hair disheveled. As I reached toward her chest to fasten the buttons, I felt her pulse. She closed her eyes.
Tears were escaping through her glasses—tears whose language perhaps no one but I could understand. She turned away to hide her crying. From behind, I wrapped both my arms around her, holding her tight against my chest. Resting my chin on her left shoulder, I broke nearly half an hour of silence.
- What's wrong? Can't you tell me either?

- Nothing's wrong.
Her very saying "nothing's wrong" proclaimed loudly that much was wrong. As she turned to the left, her eyes met mine. It seemed her thirsty eyes were searching for something in mine, shattering everything in the world.
Now I embraced her from the front. She held me even tighter. It felt as though all my bones and ribs might break any moment. Yet I felt no pain at all; rather it seemed... let all my bones break, let me die right here. Let me die in happiness, die in peace.
People go to heaven after death; let my death itself be in heaven.
Eight. Most brilliant people are tiresome for two reasons:
Too much ego,

Too little common sense.
Nine. His writing has an edge,

arrows fly from word to word,

wherever you go, you see

the river's bend is there too.
There is dawn, there is blue,

sometimes sleep comes.
That day I see, in colors again

how a chill clings and dwells;

when I go far, something

flickers and oh, the sun laughs!
I tell you truly, I have

a room where I may remain.