Topic: Ragging (Final Part)

Case Study-37.
One particular senior sister would rag me repeatedly without any reason. When I asked others about it, I learned that this sister was supposedly crazy, and I shouldn't pay attention to what she said. One thing that amazed me was that there were certain specialist big brothers and sisters whose job it was to rag. And those who could rag were extremely popular in the university. They received a lot of respect in the name of brotherhood. Those who weren't used to ragging often suffered in many ways.
I spent four years at university, trying hard to understand their point of view—my ex-boyfriend was even a ragging expert! At the end of the day, what I realized was that most people who rag are deeply frustrated and cowardly types. When the Proctor's office called them for any work, they would cower like cats—where did their bullying go then!
The truth is, they're not the kind of people who can earn respect by competing with others through their own personality and merit. That's why they tried to gain popularity by following roundabout methods. Having spent time with them, I saw that most of them were very shallow-headed people with crude thinking. They weren't broad-minded; they saw a person from their own perspective, never from that person's position, or were incapable of doing so.
The funny thing is, some teachers helped maintain this ragging. For various reasons, they didn't like the university administration, and they wanted to use these ragging students' emotions to destroy the university's environment. Even when these teachers came to class, they would say that a chain of command must be maintained in the university, and they would hand over this so-called chain of command to some foolish, rude boys who were very easy to brainwash in the name of brotherhood.
Those who ragged would only bark in front of juniors; they always kept their true face hidden. Slapping and hitting in the name of brotherhood, setting one person against another in the name of brotherhood, transforming personal enmity toward someone into politics in the name of brotherhood—these useless activities were their only work. They had endless time on their hands, and they used that time for such nonsense. Those who were foolish believed in this trickery, wasted many days, and eventually dropped out, while those who were clever led others down that path and quietly sorted out their own careers.
Those who spoke against ragging were called chicken-hearted in front of everyone. The chicken people supposedly hide, fear popularity and recognition, so they speak against ragging.
The truth is, most ordinary people don't understand politics; they run toward whichever side has the majority. How many nations in the world are as mob-minded as Bengalis? Even if you explain the real facts to them very clearly, they won't accept it or won't even understand it—they simply don't have that capacity and competence. Most students also lack diplomatic sense.
Case Study-38.
Once I was going from Dewan Bazar toward the GEC intersection area with one of my cousins. We were standing at Didar Market waiting for transport for a while. My cousin was wearing a top. Using her outfit as an excuse, the amount of harassment and humiliation we had to endure that day is beyond description! No decent person's children could ever tolerate such abuse. My question is: where was my cousin's crime? She wore a top—does that mean people should hurl abuses at her?

Even now, tears come to my eyes when I remember that day.
Later I learned that among those who had hurled abuse at me, two of the boys were senior brothers from my cousin's university.
Case Study-39.
Against my wishes, I was already studying honors at Gurji Tori College, and on top of that I had to endure ragging there!
The third and fourth-year students were "welcoming" the first-year boys and girls. Fine, well enough... the welcome was over. The girls and boys were taken to separate rooms for a "special ceremony"... Once in the room, they announced that hijabi girls should not sit down—they would have to go to another room. First the hijabis' turn, then the non-hijabis'... I was a hijabi, brother... completely nervous. The task for hijabis was—remove your hijab, let your hair down, purse your lips, arch your waist, and stand in a selfie pose for half an hour. Some shameless girls were actually delighted! They'd get to show off their hair and lips... Hijabs were being removed, and this didn't bother their self-respect one bit. My number was twelve. When I refused, they added another ten minutes for me. The most amusing thing happened when the girl who was the leader's sleazy boyfriend showed up, and she said, "Never mind, I don't need to do this anymore!" She was telling her friend that if she struck that pose, she'd catch her boyfriend's wandering eye and her beloved would leave her!
I was saved... Even now when I remember that day, I want to tear that girl apart and devour her!
Case Study-40.
This experience isn't mine. It belongs to a sister who lives on our third floor. Some senior brothers from her medical college gang-raped her in the name of ragging. After that incident, she lost her mental balance. No one in her family had been in favor of admitting her to medical college. She had also gotten into BUET but had enrolled in medical school against her entire family's wishes. She studied while living in the college hostel, which was also against her family's preference. After the incident, her family blamed her instead, saying that the environment in medical college wasn't good—they had known this beforehand, so why did the girl disobey her family! Far from reporting this matter to the police, she was forbidden from even leaving the house. She was always locked up and confined to a room. This made her break down mentally even more, and eventually she lost her mental equilibrium. After that, she was given psychiatric treatment for about two years, both in the country and abroad. Then she became more or less normal.
All universities in Canada are notorious for ragging. After studying for five months in the Architecture Department at Avegi University, my cousin canceled his admission and enrolled in architecture at Ashabori University instead. His dream was to become an architect. But he couldn't study where he had dreamed of studying. They wouldn't let him study there. The senior brothers and sisters from the previous university would force students to kiss classmates. Sexual abuse in the name of ragging is very common at Avegi University. No one dares to speak up, because speaking up only increases the amount of torture.
I know some of the rapists of that sister whose career and life were almost completely destroyed by being raped. I keep track of them in various ways, I feel compelled to.
None of them have been able to achieve anything significant according to their academic backgrounds. I believe they won't be able to either.
................Nature takes revenge. It certainly does.
Case Study-41.
The most helpless person in the world is one who cannot speak their heart to their loved ones even when they try... who cannot show their feelings of joy, sorrow, or pain to anyone... who cannot cry out loud, but only hides tears in the corners of their eyes behind a gentle smile.
Brother, this is the first time I'm writing to you.
Yet again, this revolves around ragging — that vile and disgusting experience in my life. The incident occurred at the fine arts faculty. In the 2010-11 session, I secured a fairly good score and got a chance at the fine arts faculty of Shuddhakalyan University. The ragging happened when I went for the viva. Some senior sisters from fine arts (3 or 4 of them) called me over. I knew something about fine arts. I sensed something was about to happen. I greeted them and said, "Yes, apa, you called me?" The sisters began laughing and said, "Yes, you." I said, "Yes, please tell me." Then the sisters burst into even louder laughter and said, "We're going to rag you now." I said, "Apa, I haven't even been admitted here yet, I've come for the viva." They burst into laughter again (perhaps they were a bit too disturbed) and kept saying, "Since you're here, you'll have to take it!" They were sitting beside some stone female nude sculptures on the other side of the Picasso Gallery in front of the fine arts building.
My ordeal began, which was extremely uncomfortable and filled with obscenity. Even telling you about these things feels obscene. Let me mention, I'm naturally so nervous that I can't even stand in front of a girl, let alone speak — I feel extremely anxious. That day, in a word, I became completely stupid. Anyway, now my turn began. First, I was told to hold the nude sculpture's breasts with both hands. There was nothing I could do. I turned red with shame and held the breasts with both hands. They said, "Squeeze them the way you'd squeeze your girlfriend's **." Imagine, they claim to be women too! Even now I feel disgusted calling them apa! Then I clumsily demonstrated a bit. After that, they progressively burst into loud laughter and told me to kiss, caress, put hands on intimate parts, do this, do that. Finally they said, "Do what they do in X-rated films — slap the ** to arouse during sex... and other nonsense." Their manner of speaking and gestures were full of filth and obscenity.
What women couldn't say, I witnessed that day, and I repented to Allah that I wouldn't have to study fine arts. At that time, two friends of mine named Silvia and Nafisa were with me. Silvia pleaded with the sisters not to rag me and later left out of shame. I took the fine arts exam by my own choice, though I couldn't study there later due to family reasons, but that terrible shame from that day remains buried in my mind. I'm sorry, brother, for telling you these shameful things, but truthfully, these are what happened in my life. I curse those uncivilized people. Thank you so much, brother, for giving me the opportunity to speak freely about unspoken matters.
By the way, I've kept one stubborn conviction. I don't know anyone in fine arts who can do pencil sketching better than me.
Case Study-42.

My experience might be the worst of all. After finishing SSC, I enrolled in college for HSC, quite young in age and intellect. I didn't understand many things. The senior sisters at college called me for ragging. They asked me to name several brands of condoms. I said, "Apa, I don't know these things, I don't understand." They said, "You study science and don't understand these things?" Then they laughed "hahaha" and said many more things, humiliating me.
Case Study-43.

I study at a private university. I didn't get into medical college, wouldn't study at a private medical college either, so my father, quite hurt, enrolled me in a back-row private university. I went to the university with my father on the first day. No one said anything that day. I still didn't even know what ragging was. On the second day, I went alone.
In the cafeteria, a BBA senior called me over and said, "Your dress is so beautiful! How much money do you have in your bag? Pay the bill!" Without saying anything, I called the waiter and asked, "Uncle, how much is the bill?" He said, "1000 taka." I was completely shocked! I only had 400 taka in my bag. I said, "Brother, I don't have that much money." Then he said, "Then take off your dress and leave it here." He also said many other vulgar things. I left without saying anything. The next day, that brother proposed to me. He said, "Just say yes, if you agree you'll get all the benefits. You can stay in the hostel, I'll take care of all your food and accommodation. If you become my girlfriend, I'll even get you exam questions." That day too, I walked away quickly without saying anything. From then on, he kept harassing me continuously. One day during our class break, he came to our room and told everyone to leave, but wouldn't let me go. He tried to touch me very inappropriately, and that day too I managed to escape from the room with great difficulty. Later I told one of the university teachers and my father that I wouldn't study there anymore. I wanted to transfer to another university. But due to a problem, that didn't happen. After that incident, I told everyone in class that I was married, my husband lived in Dubai, etc. etc. Then I didn't have to face such problems anymore.
Case Study-44.
Brother, you wanted to hear about ragging experiences, so I'm texting you. When I went to give the admission test at Deshakh University, some seniors ragged me like this... One senior brother said, "What's your name?" I said, "Saikat." "Do you use mobile?" "Hmm." One apu said, "Well, what do you have on your phone?" I said, "I didn't quite understand." Then the apu said, "Do you have 'X' on your phone?" I said, "Sorry." "Don't you watch X?" "No, I don't." "Well, what do you understand by X, tell me?" "Sorry, I can't say that now." Then that apu got angry and said, "Rude boy! Always negative thoughts in your head, isn't it?" Without giving me a chance to say anything, she said, "Check your phone and see if there's an 'X' on the mobile keyboard or not?" I just stared in amazement. The next incident was actually quite funny though.
Case Study-45.
Brother, I'll share a small experience of mine. In 2014, I went to take the admission test at Debokri University. Having given a terribly bad exam, I was walking toward the Samoa gate in a dejected mood.
After walking some distance, I saw 3 senior apus sitting and chatting. Seeing the exam materials in my hand, they understood that... we found him, we found the sacrificial goat! I understood too. But being in a bad mood, I paid no attention to them. One called out, "Heyyy, come here!" I went. She said, "How was your exam? Will you get a chance?" I said, "No, I won't get a chance." She said, "Oh come on... forget it... where's your girlfriend?" I said, "She's on the road, going home." One looked at another and exchanged glances, saying something. Then one said, "Someone give me a paper and someone give me a pen." Extending the pen and paper toward me, she said, "Draw a picture of your 'thing', let's see." Hearing this, I was stunned! I understood they were ragging me, but still, this! I took the pen and paper. I drew a big "Y" on it.
He said, "That big?" "Yes." "What's the proof?" I said, "Shall I open it here, or would you prefer to go to some corner?" He gave me a slap. And sent me away.
Case Study-46.
My opinion on ragging is this: ragging becomes bad only when it crosses the line. The question is, where is that line? I think there's no hard and fast rule about this. Most of those who rag others are immature in their thinking, which is why it often goes too far. That's when it becomes problematic. But ragging within limits serves a purpose. When I went for my entrance exam and got ragged by certain people, at the time I thought if I got the chance, I'd kill them! But what happened was, those very people became my closest seniors, and still are today. Actually, you know what, not everyone can rag properly. What many people do in the name of ragging reflects a perverted mentality. When someone knows how to rag smartly, it actually benefits the juniors a lot—it removes their casual attitude, teaches them some flexibility, brings discipline to their behavior, and connects them to many good things beyond studies. Abusing someone, beating them up, or mentally torturing them for no reason whatsoever in the name of ragging—that's not ragging. If the person doing the ragging lacks a sense of proportion and wisdom, then something like ragging becomes nothing but a form of terrorism.
Case Study-47.
What happens in the name of ragging—the seniors call you from your room...then ask you to sing...make you dance to Hindi songs...if you can't, they humiliate you further...you have to listen to abuse...they keep you locked in the room from nine at night till one...mentally torture you...we've already left our families and come alone to a new environment, and on top of that this kind of treatment...it's heartbreaking to endure.
Case Study-48.
Brother, I'm in second year at Multani College. Near our college there's a hostel called 'Potdeep'. I used to stay there when I was in first year. Our college is closed on Fridays and Saturdays. The incident happened on some Friday night. I had only been in the hostel for three days, attended classes for one day. My new roommate and I were getting to know each other, listening to Bhoot FM. Then we went to sleep. Around two-thirty, there was loud knocking on the door. I opened it. I saw two young guys standing there. They said Jalil Mama (he's our hostel caretaker) had asked us to come downstairs. My roommate thought robbers had come. So he kept asking questions. The seniors got annoyed with him. Then he tried to wake up a brother from the next room. Later, those who had come to call us whispered something to that brother. Then that brother also told us to go downstairs. That brother was two batches senior to us, one year senior to those who had come to call us. The thing is, whoever comes new gets ragged by the one-year senior brothers, which I found out later. We were on the fifth floor, they took us to a four-person room on the second floor. Going in, I saw many young men sitting together. I entered giving everyone salaam, my roommate didn't. They sent me to a balcony of that room. Going there, I saw one of my friends sitting. (I had just met him that day at college.) Later a brother came, chatted with us. During that time they ragged my roommate. We heard a lot of things sitting on the balcony. Suddenly the door opened, and that's when I saw my roommate hanging in that room!
(All the courage inside me had vanished by then!) A little later, my new friend and I were taken to the room. My roommate was sitting there, trembling with fear, his face gone pale. They didn't really do anything to us—instead, we were given Coke and biscuits. Even after asking my roommate a thousand times later, I could never find out what had actually happened that day.
Case Study-49.
My younger sister has just enrolled in Public Administration at Deb Gandhi University. She's a very quiet, reserved girl. Ever since her admission, she'd been terrified about ragging. Meanwhile, many in her department had already been ragged. One girl was called in by 16-17 senior brothers who ragged her. The girl was asked whether she was in a relationship. When she said no, one of them told her, "Then propose to all of us." After that, the girl had to propose to everyone before they let her go.
My sister would tell me these stories over the phone and be very scared. Then one day came my sister's turn. She was called from class and told to recite the multiplication table of zero. Then one, then eleven. She was so frightened she couldn't say them properly, and then they all joined in humiliating her as they pleased. Then they asked if she was in a relationship. Afraid of having to propose, she said yes. They then asked all sorts of nonsense questions about her boyfriend, and my sister kept making up answers. Finally, they let her go. My sister tells me all this over the phone and cries a lot.
My question is: what's the point of harassing these little kids like this? Already dealing with a new campus, living away from family, a new environment, trying to adapt to a completely new world—and then ragging on top of it? They say without ragging, students won't become smart, but who gave them the responsibility to make boys and girls smart through this kind of harassment?
Case Study-50.
I'm sharing some thoughts on ragging from my own experience...
One. What I understand by ragging is beating someone up for no reason, or publicly mocking them or passing crude comments.
Two. In college, I saw one group of boys smash another boy's head over a girl in our class. Later, some girls from another group called that same girl into a closed classroom and slapped her around, saying awful things to her, even though the girl had nothing to do with that incident. She didn't like either of those boys. They had gotten into an argument about her on their own and ended up fighting, with one cracking the other's head. I realized then that many crazy, idiotic types of boys and girls go to colleges and universities in Bangladesh.
Three. On our last day of college, when we were celebrating rag day, my friend named Mashuk had put some color on my forehead. Seeing this, some honors seniors called him to the field and beat him mercilessly with sticks, later hospitalizing him. I was completely stunned by the whole incident! So much happened because of me, yet I had no hand in it at all! When Mother returned from school, she scolded me a lot about it. I told Mother that fighting always happens in our college, it's nothing new, and I had nothing to do with today's fight. Mother didn't believe me at all—instead, she scolded me for a while longer.
I couldn't understand why they ragged Mashuk, whether it was even ragging at all, or what fault of mine lay in any of it. 
Case Study-51.
First they made us all sit down. Then they said, "Why are you sitting?" We were dumbfounded. They said, "Only sit when told to sit." Later they said we were ill-mannered. They made us lie down and established that they were the leaders of that area. They made us dance, sing, asked if we could do this or that, whether we could see such-and-such. After this mental torture, they said, "Recite PEC's multiplication table." I said, "What's PEC's multiplication table?" One of them slapped me hard on the head and said, "Son of a donkey! If you don't know this, what do you know?" I broke down crying, and after that they didn't do anything more to me and let me go. I saw them beat many others in front of me. Later they explained to us that they had ragged us for our own good, that we had sat together, talked, and gotten to know each other! After that incident, many of us remained mentally disturbed for a long time.
Case Study-52.
Brother, you conducted a seminar at our university just a few days ago...that day I had some questions in mind to ask you, but I didn't ask them thinking they might seem irrelevant. But today, seeing your adverse attitude toward ragging, I couldn't help but say something. Most of the boys and girls who get admission to engineering and various public universities in this country are the ultra-studious, intellectual types...they remain ignorant about many important things in life besides studies, like how to mix with others, various co-curricular activities...so even when they come to university, they remain the same old story until they're subjected to ragging...And what I've understood so far is that university actually plays a leading role in transforming a youth into a mature man, teaches self-reliance, teaches how to face the life that awaits ahead...at least that's what it's teaching a stay-at-home poultry chicken like me. And the way it teaches these things is through senior-junior brotherhood (not dirty, truly genuine) and interconnection...there are some advanced boys and girls who naturally mix with senior brothers and learn everything, but most, in my opinion, don't do this, rather can't do it, unless they're made free with the brothers through ragging and their inner inertia is overcome...And by ragging I certainly mean light scolding, joking around, activities that break the ice. Singing a song or telling a joke in front of everyone doesn't harm anyone's dignity, rather it breaks the ice. However, yes, I absolutely don't support the actions of those who enjoy giving harsh punishments or unspeakable abuse, and in some cases sexual harassment. Truth be told, such nonsense doesn't even fall under the category of ragging. But such things are also happening frequently in many places. So ultimately, while ragging may be temporary harassment, its results aren't always very bad. You've faced all these situations long ago, so you know much better than I do...still, I tried to present my opinions before you.
Case Study-53.
Brother, I've never had the courage to text you before. But when I saw today that you were asking about ragging, I felt like sharing some thoughts with you.
I had many arguments about this with one of my cousins. She was saying that they rag newly admitted boys and girls. Once they called a girl and said, "Hey girl, don't you notice the senior brothers? You walk away rudely, don't give salaam, don't smile when you see us."
What is all this? They had all ganged up together to torment the girl with all kinds of remarks. Seeing the girl scratching her hand, they said to her, "What's the matter, are you good at scratching? Come on, scratch all of our hands!" Later, when the girl started crying, they let her go. While telling me these stories, I saw a kind of pride in my cousin's eyes and face. I feel ashamed even thinking that my own cousin is so mentally disturbed!
Let me tell you my own experience. After I got admitted to university and moved into the dormitory, a political brother wanted to force me into a relationship. When I refused, one of his political female friends came to my room one night with several other girls and slapped me, saying that first-year girls are apparently disrespectful, don't greet their seniors properly, walk with their heads held high, make noise in the dining hall by banging plates and glasses on tables, don't listen to anything they're told, and so on and so forth. Then at 10 PM these leaders threw me out of my room. They took out all my belongings from the room and told me never to show my face within the dormitory premises again. Far from getting justice for that incident to this day, I never even got a seat in the dormitory.
Case Study-54.
I was probably in my second year at university then. I had gone to Canteen-2 to have breakfast. I saw a boy who had moved the rice and lentil bowls from the canteen table, stood on top of it, and was practicing Michael Jackson's moonwalk. Standing beside him, one of my friends was giving dance instructions like a circus ringmaster. I went a bit closer and asked my friend about the situation. The story was that this boy had just started classes yesterday, and today he had gone to the canteen for lunch while listening to music at full volume on his mobile, which was genuinely annoying others who were there. That's why he was getting this treatment. A little later I saw that junior boy come to Halim Uncle's shop with my friend, and my friend offered him a Pepsi. Taking the Pepsi bottle in his hand, the boy was saying with a smile, "Brother, this kind of ragging is quite enjoyable from time to time!" Before my friend could say "Get lost!" in irritation, I saw that boy scurrying away in a flash!
Case Study-55.
I was then a student just 3 days old at Bilaaskhani University. I had sent a friend request to an immediate senior. I was called to the seniors' room in the evening. That was hell for us. Being called meant life was over. I went with a lot of courage in my heart. I couldn't figure out what mistake I had made. From approximately 7 PM, I was made to stand there without saying a word. I kept standing while they went about their business. At 2 AM I was asked whether standing was causing me any trouble! I said it was. Someone said, "Sit down." When I was about to sit, just as I was half-bending my knees, I was told to stop and rest by sitting on an imaginary chair. I couldn't last long and fell down. Around 3 AM they first asked me whether I had eaten dinner!
Anyway, there are some good people everywhere, and I learned from one such good person that my fault that day was sending a friend request to a senior!
After that incident, I never made any of the senior brothers who were present in that room that day into Facebook friends. There was a lot of talk about this later too. Brother, ask about me from those you know at our university—perhaps everyone will recognize me, because I sing at programs.
I have always been against ragging, am against it, and always will be, but I never missed out on any campus fun. I don't believe that avoiding ragging—whether giving it or receiving it—deprives you of campus enjoyment. And the claim that ragging creates bonds between juniors and seniors is complete nonsense. I have plenty of juniors, friends, and seniors who respect me, love me, and care for me.
Case Study-56.
I study at a national university. Everyone says there's supposedly no ragging in college! This is neither entirely true nor false.
When I first came to college, I wandered around in great joy, barely noticing anyone. One day I was laughing very loudly in front of some senior sisters and brothers. They called me over and made me stand for an hour and a half, saying, "Let's see you laugh! Laugh loudly. You have to laugh continuously, no stopping!" I was so scared I burst into tears.
Another day two brothers called me over and told me to follow a large ant. When I'd gone some distance and saw that the brothers had turned their attention elsewhere, I crushed the ant, feeling as though I was taking revenge.
Case Study-57.
At Alhiya University, ragging is given systematically, name by name, in list form. If a senior brother manages to collect a mobile number somehow, he calls and drags you out of your room for ragging. Not just any ragging, but proper physical ragging, which they've named the "introduction phase." Supposedly there are many benefits to receiving this ragging. Like getting notes, help finding a girlfriend, assistance when there are problems (fight-related) at university, paying bills at Shanko's (a famous restaurant here), and many other things. Hearing all this, it seemed to me like a complete donkey-level system!
Ragging starts at 10 PM and goes on until 3 AM. They make you strip completely naked, cut underarm hair, show *orn movies... During these activities, senior sisters are sometimes present too. Those who refuse to do what they're told during ragging face various pressures. They forbid others from speaking to them, then at night they make the reluctant boy stand chest-deep in a pond. Ragging continues in classrooms too when teachers aren't around. Ragging happens based on seniority.
I had gotten chances at Madhubanti University for statistics and at Khambaj University for applied statistics. I came to Alhiya only because of the temptation to study mechanical engineering. But I've decided I won't study here anymore. I'm very happy with my decision! Character comes first! Now I'll apply again for the second time, to places where there's no ragging. And to defense services. If these ragging cultures continue, the future leaders of our country will be mentally disturbed, insane graduates.
Case Study-58.
I was a second-timer. This year I went to take the admission exam at Malhar University. A very close friend of mine had gotten a chance the first time, so I thought I'd go stay with him. The evening before the exam, I went to his mess and stayed there. There were 10 students in his mess. I stayed in my friend's room, and after evening someone from the next room came and said I was being called to that room. I went. Then I saw everyone from that mess sitting on beds, while students like me who had come to take exams were sitting huddled in the distance like prisoners in jail. Then they started ragging everyone. They asked me if I watched Sunny Leone's *orn. When I said I didn't, they asked why I hadn't watched it, whether I was a hijra, and what sounds *orn makes. They told me to make those sounds with my mouth, recite various multiplication tables, and many other such things.
Then again at 11 PM, three senior brothers from third year came—they were supposedly big leaders. They began saying even worse things. Then one senior brother told me to draw a picture of a naked woman, or else I wouldn't be allowed to take tomorrow's exam. Trembling with fear, I somehow drew one, then he told me to write the names of each body part on the drawing. After that, he poured a single drop of water on the floor and told me to swim in it. I said, "How is that even possible?" They said, "You're Ananta Jalil, so make it possible however you can!" After that was over, they scattered a handful of rice on the floor and told me to pick up every grain. I said, "Brother, can I sweep it up with a broom?" They said, "No, you'll pick them up one by one, even if it takes all night—then go take your exam in the morning." This is how they ragged all the candidates until 3 AM.
I still wonder—by what qualification do these people become university students? They don't have an ounce of humanity. They deserve severe punishment.
Case Study-59.
For a girl from a provincial town, getting admission to Meghmallar University can sometimes be a curse. In a city where she has no one of her own, where will she first find shelter when she arrives? No solution seems possible! The city she had to leave three years ago—three years later, she must return to that very city. Yes, three years ago she used to live in Kedara, studied at a renowned school. Before her SSC exams, she had to leave Kedara city. Her father worked a government job. Then came admission through entrance exams and returning to Kedara. The familiar city remained familiar no more. Everything had turned cruel.
Eventually the day came to start classes. She went to the dormitory but there was no place to stay. Somehow, no arrangement could be made anywhere. Finally she found an old school friend, contacted her, and moved into her house. Who knows how much kinship a city of strangers can offer! Still, they kept her for a month. She remains grateful to them today.
At last, moving into the dormitory. Which meant staying in the dorm illegally as a girl. Clothes in one person's room, sleeping in another's room at night. No sleeping before 11 PM, no staying in the room after 6 PM. This stolen domestic life continued. There are many more stories.
Then when our room seat was first allocated, it was given to a blind girl. I went to her room. She and her other roommate said, "You go to madam." I went. I was given another room. On the fifth floor. They led me around in circles. "You can't move into the room today. Come tomorrow." I went to their room, but they wouldn't let me inside. One day I forced my way in. Like claiming territory for my rightful place, I left my clothes trunk there. Then when I went back again, they wouldn't let me go up, then they said, "Where's your home, how many siblings do you have"—all sorts of interview questions; then they said, "We don't like you, go to another room." Hearing these words, a kind of suppressed sob wanted to burst out from within my heart. I had thought my troubles were about to end, but what was this! Standing there on the fifth floor, I felt like jumping off. So much suffering for a seat—what had I done that they didn't like me? And what qualities would I have needed for them to like me?
I couldn't control myself. I was coming down the stairs crying. I realized I had no place in this vast world. The next day I told madam everything openly. After wandering around for several days, I was finally given a room.
I went there to meet them, entered, had the interview. They said I couldn't go up to the room right away—I had to wait for the roommate to arrive first. Then she came. I had actually come to meet her. After entering the room, she had me sit down, then laid out the room rules: I wouldn't be allowed to stay in the room, couldn't study in the room, could only come to talk and then leave, and I mustn't associate with a certain apu—she was very dirty, very bad. I was told all sorts of terrible things about her. The extent to which one girl can speak ill of another! I just listened, said nothing. My nature is to listen very carefully when people speak about others, then get to know that person myself, and only if I find them guilty by my own judgment do I keep them at a distance. But so far, everyone I've heard bad things about has turned out to be good when I actually met them. So it's not right to think badly of someone just because others say they're bad, without verifying it yourself.
But let that be. Besides this apu, there was another senior apu named Jeba. Apu was very calm, spoke very slowly and in a sweet voice. She was extremely affectionate toward me. She would recite poetry to me. She was very fond of younger girls—she used to call me "babu." She would dress me up in sarees. She'd make tea and sit me down beside her. She kept my clothes with her belongings. She'd ask me to sleep with her. She was terribly thin. After I came to the room, she was the most senior apu there. I had known her for three months. Before she left, she took my hand and said, "Shila, those I've lived with for years and years—the affection I have for them in my heart—in these three months, you've taken up more space in my heart than all of them. Take very good care of yourself." Apu left, and in the room remained myself, my bedmate, that so-called dirty apu, and one other apu. My bedmate apu was strikingly beautiful. Rather than focusing on studies, she was more devoted to researching beauty. Activities related to that were always going on. And this apu had another apu as her collaborator. So there were four of us in the room then. Those two apus were always whispering together. I needed someone to talk to. But those two apus had forbidden me from associating with the remaining apu. I can't stay quiet by nature, and on top of that, how could I remain silent all the time, always alone? When I tried to talk to that apu, she wouldn't really speak much. Meanwhile, my bedmate apu was very strong-willed. The bed was very small and narrow—one person could sleep comfortably, but it was quite difficult for two people. She told me, "Listen, girl, I can't sleep without a body pillow. Don't touch my pillow. Sleep on one side. Don't move around much. You can't use my table, but you can keep some books and notebooks in that space on one side near the foot. Buy yourself a rack to keep everything in. You won't get any space for clothes. Don't stay in the room much, stay as little as possible. Don't come to nap in the afternoon. Take quick showers. Hang your clothes at the very end of that line, don't move my clothes. And why do you wear a burqa? We don't like girls who wear burqas. And don't talk to that apu."
That night I slept beside her with a pounding heart. I slept on one side the entire night. When I woke up in the morning, I couldn't move my back. Then I folded my quilt.
After that she called me over and said, "Listen, girl, you've grown so big and still can't fold a quilt properly. Here, do it again. That's not right, do it again, make all four corners even. Now that's better. Hey... Apu, look, this girl hasn't learned how to fold a quilt." And what a laugh she had! I was angry with myself then, thinking to myself, the corners aren't right, that's why she made me fold it so many times. But it was folded, wasn't it? What need was there for such perfection!
That was the beginning. The other apu hardly spoke to me. I understood that these two apus were very much alike. One simply couldn't exist without the other! One would go eat with the other, if one went to watch TV, the other would go too. But they wouldn't speak to the other apu who was there. Naturally, I spoke with that apu. I didn't enjoy talking with them, because when I was in the room, they would talk about what girl did what, which dress looked good, what boy said what, which ornament should be worn to match which dress. And there was gossip, of course, all the soap-opera-heroine-like activities. I felt no attraction to it at all. I was afraid of them. When I was unwell, my bedmate wouldn't let me get on the bed. She'd say, stay on the floor. One day I had placed a book on her table, she threw it away. The apu would read very loudly. So loudly that even pressing a pillow to my ears wouldn't help. One day while staying with her, she said, why do you talk to Nancy apu? Don't you see that apu is rotten, she has dirt under her feet? I said that day, she doesn't seem bad to me. I have to talk to someone!
Actually Nancy apu was a very good girl, she was very affectionate toward me. When I was a little unwell, apu would cook and feed me herself. Sometimes she would bring food from downstairs, almost every afternoon we would make tea and chat away the time. Apu knew Nazrul songs very well, she would only sing for me. She couldn't recite poetry well, but because I liked it, she would recite and laugh. After this I became a seat holder. My bedmate arrived. I tried to help with everything I could.
That's when it started. The other two mischievous apus somehow convinced my bedmate Papiya. I don't know what they told her, but she was a very clever girl, she would protect both sides. She would easily say two different things from one mouth. My ex-bedmate and the other apu would throw my shoes out of the room when they saw them, when I hung my clothes to dry on the balcony, they would drag them and send them to that place where crows regularly relieved themselves. Returning from class to bathe, I would find my clothes lying on the ground. Or the crows had done their business. They would put banana peels on my clothes. My ex-bedmate's study table was beside my bed. She used a table lamp with a 100-watt yellow bulb. She would focus that light right on my face. She would study till 12 at night and then wake up at dawn. Sometimes she would wake up at three in the morning. If I were to write about each day's events, it would become a book!
........As the days went by, they began their torture. They wouldn't give me a chance to bathe, so many rules were established! All the rules changed for me. I couldn't study in the room, I had less right to stay in my room. And the table that belonged to the previous roommate apu, I fit that into the back balcony.
By then, no one had put a table outside, because they hung clothes to dry outside and dumped garbage everywhere, with cat droppings scattered here and there. Meanwhile, my exams were approaching, and I couldn't study in my room, so I studied on the balcony. But whenever I sat down to study, they would blare music, shout, and deliberately say vile things loud enough for me to hear. I would listen and cry. In the midst of all this, I bought a small table as a child would, carrying it on my lap to the field, to the balcony, wherever I could find space, and somehow managed to study. Later I studied in the field, under an umbrella. So many other things happened.
In the middle of all this, I got married, and there was suffering there too—so much suffering all around! I regularly took sleeping pills; one, sometimes more. There was nothing in my life but tears. The mental torture was so intense that I would dream of someone strangling me. On the other hand, whenever they saw me, they would glower with dark faces. This caused me great pain. Anyway, then the second-year exam was approaching, I had come to my room to pray, I was praying, and they turned up the music loud. I said, "Sister, could you please lower the volume a bit?" She said to me, "You shameless girl, telling me to turn down the sound—what nerve!" Saying this, she moved to slap me, but I caught her hand out of fear. My body was trembling with fear. I said, "You have hands, don't I have them too?" Then another sister said, "Shila, you get out of this room. Ever since you moved in, this room has lost its peace. We don't like you, we don't like girls who wear burqas." Many more such things. I don't know whether to call this ragging or what.
Case Study-60.
To tell the truth, I follow you blindly, brother... I'm so much happier knowing you're against ragging, because this thing caused me tremendous anguish at one time.
I find it very distressing when someone is blamed without reason. So one day I was brought before everyone in class. "So you've become quite the big shot, have you, making missed calls to girls?" I was thunderstruck! I said, "No, brother, I haven't made any such missed calls to anyone!" He said, "What... arguing back? You made a missed call to a sister... the missed call came from your number!" Then I immediately pulled both my phones out of my pocket. I said, "Brother, call the number that the missed call came from, see if my phone rings." Naturally, neither phone rang... I then wept silently in rage and hurt, standing alone... They were all chattering away among themselves, and I was standing alone in the corner of the classroom, crying. Eventually they said, "Go cry outside." I left. There was no justice for the mistake they were making, and here I had to cry... I won't speak of the nights today... the obscene things that those nights were spent on—even now thinking of them makes my skin crawl with disgust.
Case Study-61.
My first experience of life... When I went to take the admission exam at Kaligara University, 2-3 people, probably seniors, came and said, "Hey boy, come here." I went. They said, "Candidate?" Yes. They said, "Spell university." They said it was wrong. "Do it again." I did. And I had the courage to say, "Does anyone really misspell 'university'?" Then they said, "Can you sing?" Yes, I can. "Sing something." A Lalon song. I sang two. Then putting a hand on my shoulder, they said, "Don't take it to heart, we were just having fun." That's how the episode at Kabi ended.
The next one was truly terrifying...! At Dhaibat University campus.
I still remember that day, the economics exam. I went. Four senior sisters came and asked my name. I told them. They said, stand up straight. Are your legs crooked? After hearing that stern "stand!" I stood ramrod straight. Then they said, roll up your sleeves. I did. Later, when they asked me something, I gave a slightly cheeky answer. Then they said, get in the water right now! As if I would just jump in that easily! But in the end, defeated, I had to get in. That day's exam was at 5 PM. And this incident happened at 11 AM. So I couldn't take the exam. I came back to my room crying. And on top of that, I hadn't gotten admission to any university. My heart was terribly heavy because of this. Later, after getting admission to Bhimpalashri University, I never got ragged again. At least I managed to avoid that aspect.
Dear readers, after reading this far, you've probably developed some mixed feelings about ragging, and that's only natural. Which ragging is good, which ragging is bad, which is soft ragging, which is hard ragging, which ragging has a positive impact, which ragging has a negative impact — I won't go into these judgments, because I believe that anyone reading this piece can make that judgment with their own sense of discernment. I'm ending this writing by sharing some of my own thoughts about ragging.
One. The senior brothers who rag in college or university, since they're supposed to get jobs first, they'll give good jobs to those they've ragged after they graduate, out of relationship (brotherhood!) — there's no worse logic than this. After graduating from university, how many senior brothers actually pick up the phone, and those who do pick up, are they in a position to help, or even if they are, do they have the mentality to help? Do a little investigation into these matters! During my time at university, I never caught any senior brother "within reach," nor did I have the opportunity to try. Neither during my university years nor in the time after graduating did any of them ever help me in the slightest way, and there's not even the smallest possibility or fear that they'll be of any use in the future. Rather, many of them have called me countless times for various work, still call, and will continue to call; and I too have helped them with a smile, continue to help, and will keep helping.
Two. During my university years, I was quite humble, hardworking, and possessed of self-respect. The benefit I gained from this was that many seniors liked me very much, and our relationship was one of mutual respect and affection. I still keep in touch with many of them, they still address me as "tui," and I too feel genuine brotherhood toward them. The same is true for the relationship between me and my juniors. To build these relationships, I never had to endure or give ragging. By the way, being self-respecting and being rude are never the same thing. Rude juniors can be given soft ragging to straighten them out, to bring them in line, but it should be given solely for their correction, for their own good, not to display the ragger's bullying or shamelessness.
Three. Those senior brothers or sisters who are devoted carriers of ragging culture are mostly more enthusiastic about doing useless things rather than useful work. Investigate and see, you'll find out. The result isn't very pleasant. I haven't seen their career prospects turn out very well after graduating from university or college.
Someone who can't even sort out their own career — what miracle do you expect them to perform for yours? Life seems so simple while you're in university; it's only after you graduate that you learn what life's kicks really mean, how many different kinds there are!
Four. In the writing above, I've mentioned certain kinds of ragging that are utterly vile and heinous crimes. If I had the power, I would order those raggers to be lined up before a firing squad and shot. The person who can show real guts with the strong, not just with the weak — that's a real man; the rest are just men in appearance. I'm saying this plainly: there's nothing to be learned from such ragging; rather, it leaves deeply adverse effects on a student's mind.
Five. Leo Tolstoy's world-famous novel 'Anna Karenina' begins with that precious line from the Bible: Vengeance is mine, and I will repay. The meaning of this epigraph is truly terrifying. The Creator is giving an assurance, saying: Listen, O human! Whatever injustice is done to you, if you cannot protest it properly, if you cannot immediately give the wrongdoer their due punishment, do not worry. Everything is being recorded in my ledger. The one who has wronged you will receive fitting retribution for their deeds, and they will receive it while still alive. You need not take revenge; what must be done, I will do. I take vengeance, always, and everyone will receive their due punishment in full. Wait, and when the time comes, you will see it with proof.
Dear raggers, the one you're ragging today may someday rise up; but when life rags you, you'll never again be able to straighten your spine and stand up — you'll be permanently crippled.