What’s the point of writing anymore? Still, I feel like writing something. Those who have no one to listen to them—they too have so much to say! I’ve lost to life again and again. After much struggle, I had once carved out my place in the society of men. Alas, defeated by fate, I lost that place—perhaps this is my destiny! Those I trusted most in life caused me the greatest harm and left. I never wished them any harm, nor do I now. I always believed I would never abandon any task without seeing it through to the end. Such was my resolve. Yet I couldn’t go on.
During the most difficult time of my life, I took the university entrance exam, when the very meaning of my survival had come to an end! By the infinite grace of the Creator, I got admission to Dhaka University. Three years later, I fell victim to people’s games once again. The one I considered a friend and told all my life’s stories to—he spread word about me to everyone, painting me as a person of low character. This blow was one I couldn’t recover from. My third-year results were terrible. I barely passed—2.74. I was destroying my parents’ hopes one by one. I often had to hear those words for which I was not responsible. Fighting with life, I have been defeated today. I had such a strong desire to get a good job and take care of my parents. Not just sons, but daughters too can take responsibility for their parents. This is what I used to tell everyone, tried to make them understand. I suppose I couldn’t manage it, couldn’t bring smiles to my parents’ faces………instead became their lifelong burden! I was preparing for admission to Dhaka University’s IBA MBA program. Some were saying I should study for the BCS exam instead. With the results I had, I couldn’t think of anything better than these two options. I couldn’t figure out what to do, how to do it! For bank exams, you need first class. What could I do!……I can’t do anything anymore. I no longer dream of any success greater than mere survival.
My life has come to a standstill. Before me lies only darkness. Dawn breaks in so many people’s lives, but on my life’s path, only evening falls. I find no strength to rise again. My spirit has no vigor left! In this vast ocean voyage, I find myself without a boat. No vessel will dock at the shore to take me; I will remain here on the shore alone, destitute, powerless, unwanted, helpless. For others, life means dreaming of living well, but for me, life means only carrying around this unbearable existence.
When I was young, I was quite a good student. So my parents had high hopes for me. I got GPA-5 in my SSC exam. Even there, something remained incomplete. I had hoped so much to get Golden A+. It didn’t come. I had worked so hard, yet it didn’t work out. All my friends got Golden A+ along with me. Still, I accepted it. The hope that something good lay ahead worked tremendously in my mind. The college I dreamed of attending remained out of reach. Still, I enrolled in another college with many dreams.
I kept trying with all my might……..
At sir’s house during private tutoring, I met a boy. For the first time in my life, I spoke face-to-face with a boy. He was very warm, well-mannered in conversation. He wrote beautiful poetry on Facebook and gave wonderful recitations at college programs. Our friendship was going beautifully. I trusted him as a friend. I had to pay the ultimate price for trusting people so easily. That boy turned my entire world upside down in a single moment. How can a person trample and destroy like this the dreams a girl has nurtured since childhood!
We took private lessons in physics and math from a sir. He was the best teacher in our town. My friend was his cousin. He also did odd jobs for sir’s coaching center. My friend was a bit weak in math. I was very good at math. One day before an exam, he asked me to help him a little with math. The sir we studied with also said I should explain integration to him a bit. Group study would benefit me too. I thought it would be good—I’d get practice as well. I went. At that time sir was supposed to teach a batch, but when I arrived, I found no one at the coaching center except sir and my friend. I felt somehow afraid. Still, without saying anything, I sat down to do math with my friend. Sir was in the next room. Half an hour later, he brought Cokes for the three of us. After that, I remember nothing. When I regained consciousness, I saw that everything was over. They had raped me. That sir held a sharp knife to my throat and said everything had been recorded on mobile. If I told anyone anything, he would release it all. Then the two of them raped me again. My body had no strength left. From exhaustion and despair, I couldn’t offer them any resistance. Fearing the video would be leaked, I never told anyone anything. After that incident, I never went to that coaching center again. But I would see my friend whenever I went to college. He would act completely normal, as if nothing had happened!
Today I understand that in this world, the best wisdom for staying well is to trust no one. If you trust, you’ll be deceived, you’ll suffer. If you want to remain unburdened, you mustn’t let yourself be influenced by anyone’s praise or blame, or even their comments. Back then I didn’t have all this in my head. After that incident, I couldn’t understand what to do, where to go! What had happened to me! I couldn’t understand anything! Gradually I realized I was losing something! What I was losing was faith in people.
That time was the most unbearable period of the first part of my life. Even today I don’t know how I got through that time.
When I think about it today, I feel incredibly fortunate, because if my parents hadn’t been by my side during that time, I would never have been able to move forward in life. I still can’t forget those days. It was then that I saw my father cry for the first time in my life—cry for me. That day my father sobbed like a child. From the neighbors to everyone else, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know what had happened. But no one ever found out who or what had caused my condition. I can’t even begin to describe what that moment was like for me.
My HSC results weren’t very good. Fate was playing a cruel game with me.
I had my admission exams ahead of me. And my days were passing through various mental struggles. I was often traumatized, falling terribly ill. Right at that time, my grandmother died. My mother couldn’t go to see her dead mother. For her, her daughter’s life came above everything else! It’s amazing to think how women shift their priorities in the face of love’s demands! Nature creates such strange psychology in women. Women can accept everything. To survive, women have to go through incredibly difficult tests! I don’t know if a boy could handle that much pressure. I used to think my mother loved my grandmother more than anyone else in the world. But that day it seemed like everything I had known all along was wrong.
Because of me, my mother couldn’t even see her mother one last time!
I kept thinking, why am I alive? This isn’t the life I wanted! Then why did this happen to me! I never harmed anyone, so why did this happen to me? Why did my life become such a mess compared to everyone else’s! I never found answers to any of these questions. Perhaps the mistake was mine—trusting people was the biggest mistake of my life. I went to take the exam for the first time mostly just to go through the motions. Didn’t get into DU, but got chances at Jahangirnagar and Rajshahi University. But my dream was something else entirely!
In a state of complete devastation, I began waiting for my second attempt. Each day passed like a year. I had no strength left to study. I couldn’t even accept life itself! During that time I had no contact with anyone. I had become completely alone. Everyone was moving toward their dreams, while mine lay shattered and scattered. Still, keeping some inexplicable faith in my heart, I began preparing again.
Life taught me some valuable lessons during that time. To accomplish anything, what you need far, far, far more than inspiration is—the patience to stick with the work. You have to keep at it every single day, following a routine. Whether you enjoy the work or not, you must continue doing it, you must devote time to it. Even if it goes against your heart’s desire, you have to engage yourself in that work for hours on end. Whether studying brings you joy or not, if it’s necessary, you must keep studying. If I never sit down with pen and paper because I don’t like doing math, then I’ll never learn mathematics in my entire life. That’s the reality. If I wait around for inspiration, then perhaps I’ll never be able to do my work. Those who wait for inspiration are simply creating excuses for themselves. And who doesn’t understand that people only salute achievement and merely pity excuses! If a writer sits around waiting to feel inspired before writing, then perhaps they won’t be able to write a single book in their entire lifetime. The process of working is mostly a very monotonous and exhausting affair. Still, you must keep working—whether you like it or not. Inspiration comes through working. Not work from inspiration, but inspiration from work—once this simple formula gets embedded in your mind, there’s no reason to fall behind. I remember that during that time, I wouldn’t even accidentally log into Facebook/Viber/WhatsApp/Imo, wouldn’t answer any phone calls. If you give time to everything and everyone, all dreams will remain dreams forever—that’s certain. I would always check whether what I was doing truly had any necessity—at least at that moment? If the answer was no, then I would immediately stop doing it. What matters in life isn’t why you couldn’t accomplish something, but simply that you couldn’t accomplish it—that’s the only thing worth considering. This world is never prepared to hear excuses.
In anger at myself, I deleted my Facebook account entirely. I used to write short stories on Facebook, and at that moment I had 37,841 followers—from this you can easily imagine how active I was on Facebook. While deleting it, I kept thinking, oh no, everything in life is ending! So many fans and followers, posts, all gone! Now I understand that was actually the beginning of my life! All those Facebook friends and followers were utterly unnecessary and overvalued things. That old account is gone, but on my new account now millions of people follow me. People don’t actually follow the person, they follow achievement. Back then those nearly thirty-eight thousand followers seemed equal to my entire life, but now even millions of followers don’t seem worth as much as an undisturbed afternoon nap. During that time I made myself completely solitary. Without making yourself solitary, it’s impossible to work more than others. Many people probably called me a robot. But today I understand that if I hadn’t gotten into Dhaka University on the second try either, people wouldn’t have stopped saying even worse nonsense about me. I’ve seen that the most difficult step of any work is starting it. Once you start and keep at it every day without fooling yourself, the work will definitely get finished.
I lived with a kind of dual existence during that time. Whatever else I might be doing, it all felt like a waste of time to me. My mind constantly circled around one thought: when would I sit down to study! Not that I sat down to study with any great enthusiasm—I had come to understand that if I wanted to survive, I simply had to study! Because I knew that if I couldn’t touch my dreams, everything else I did would become meaningless. It’s far more joyful to live intensely for a thousand minutes than to hide away for a thousand years. So even when I didn’t feel like studying, I wouldn’t get up from my desk—I’d read whatever else I found interesting. If I felt like listening to music, I’d listen for a bit. But only until my temporary reluctance passed. Experience had taught me that half an hour of instrumental music should be enough to shake off fatigue! Once I left the desk, bringing myself back to it was an incredibly difficult task. As long as I was awake and not going to the bathroom, I would stay at that desk—this was the target I lived by every day. Each day I’d leave my study table with a kind of dissatisfaction and self-reproach, so that I could push myself even harder the next day. Perhaps not everyone has talent, but everyone certainly has the capacity to work hard! I believe anyone can overcome the lack of talent through continuous effort. The important thing is to keep working; merely surviving is utterly unnecessary. During that time I was capable of working intensely, and as a result, I was able to extract far more from within myself than I had believed possible. Suddenly, driven by the demands of time, my sense of conscience had become razor-sharp. I had become so reckless during that period that I knew—even if someone had assured me that no matter how much I studied, I wouldn’t get a chance anywhere… I would still have continued trying relentlessly. I kept telling myself repeatedly—I’ll see this through to the end before I give up!
Anyway, I finally managed to rank 12th in the C-unit and got the opportunity to study Computer Science at Dhaka University. I tried to start everything fresh. But fate’s cruel game wasn’t over yet. That friend of mine now began blackmailing me. His demand was that I maintain a physical relationship with him, or else he’d expose everything. He started spreading ridiculous stories among my university friends. When he saw that he couldn’t weaken me in any way, he backed off somewhat. I was constantly going through these sufferings. I spent three years carrying the burden of such anguish.
Suddenly all of life’s sorrows had melted away because of one person. I thought to myself, surely not everyone can be bad. Is it even possible to live life without trusting anyone? Perhaps you can’t trust someone who only shares in happiness, but surely you can trust someone who shares in your pain too! I was seriously thinking about him. But before making any commitment, I wanted to tell him everything about myself. I didn’t want to deceive anyone. So I told him everything. Even after knowing all my truths, he still wanted to stay by my side. Life began to seem so beautiful then. My faith in humanity returned. He was so caring. He gave me so much time. Whenever I was upset about something, he would find some way to lift my spirits. He knew what I was doing, how I was, whether I needed anything, what I liked—he knew everything, tried to know everything. I fell madly in love with him. It felt as though the colors of life had returned to my heart once again!
If murder is one’s destiny, then the subconscious mind conjures up countless reasons and justifications for stepping onto the path toward that murder. I couldn’t understand that this very happiness would become the death of my life. After some time, I began to see his true face. Just when I thought of him as my entire world, he began to torture me psychologically in the most terrible ways. He would lie constantly and unnecessarily in conversation, inflate his own importance, persistently harass various girls on Facebook and over the phone, never feel even a trace of guilt when he did something wrong, often toy with my emotions, say whatever came to his mouth when he got angry, curse my parents by name when I tried to talk about his career, believe that everything about his family was good while everything about mine was bad, and no matter how much I apologized when I made a mistake, he would lecture me endlessly about it………so much more. I don’t understand how a person can humiliate someone like that! Eventually he made me look like a streetwalker in everyone’s eyes. He began spreading exaggerated versions of my past troubles to everyone. I truly don’t know why he started doing this! I never asked him to enter my life………he came into my life somewhat forcefully, using a bit of political influence. In the beginning, I used to avoid him quite a bit. That’s when he challenged me, saying he would “show me.” Later, seeing his behavior, his conduct, and his attraction toward me, I forgot everything and made him the North Star of my life. I didn’t hide anything about my past from him, so why………?
By then my second year exams had started. Each day I had to digest his humiliation. He would make fun of me in front of everyone. I was helpless. I had told my family about him. They liked him too. Even though he was involved in politics, he was excellent in his studies. Besides, seeing his wonderful side as a person, I had fallen deeply in love with him. But why did it turn out like this? When I didn’t answer his calls, he would threaten to call my house. He said he would call my home and say terrible things about me. I couldn’t think of what to do, whom to tell—nothing came to mind.
I had become the talk of the entire department. Before every exam, I had to meet with him. I was staying in the dorm then. He was my senior, but because he had taken readmission, we were in the same class. His rule was that if he wasn’t taking an exam, then I couldn’t take it either. I had protested many times and even gotten slapped by him! I crammed for every single exam the night before. What I studied, what I wrote, how I wrote it—I had no awareness of any of it. Taking computer science exams with just one night’s preparation was sheer foolishness. But what could I do! On the evening before my programming exams, he would forcibly take my laptop—saying he needed it for some work, that his laptop was broken, all sorts of excuses. I accepted everything for his sake. I didn’t want to lose him under any circumstances. What could I do—I was in love!
Then at some point, he started saying filthy things about my mother. That’s when I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. I had never responded to his disgusting, vile words before. But this time I told him it couldn’t go on like this anymore. But hearing his response left me speechless. He would never let me go. Because apparently he could use me however he wanted. I supposedly didn’t know how to protest. I had made another mistake. Trusting him, I had let him keep some intimate photos of us. He threatened me—if I left him, he would create fake accounts and publish these pictures.
Nothing felt good anymore. Life had deceived me once again. I stopped studying completely. I would just sit in my dorm room all day. I didn’t go to classes, didn’t eat properly, didn’t socialize with anyone, didn’t even answer phone calls. I had only one prayer—whatever happened to me, somehow my parents’ faces shouldn’t be shamed again. I barely passed my third year finals—it was truly miraculous, you could say. I struggled hard in my final year. But I couldn’t go on anymore……
I couldn’t figure out what to do. Life felt so small and meaningless. Out of stubbornness, I even attempted suicide. But because of some true friends, I survived that time. I had to stay in the clinic for four days. I experienced what death’s agony felt like.
I was utterly shocked when I learned that his reaction upon hearing this news about me was—”Kheya is just acting! Girls like her can do anything!”
My parents didn’t know about this. They thought their daughter was doing very well.
Six days later, over something utterly trivial, there on the TSC grounds, in the midst of a misunderstanding, she slapped me hard across the face in front of several of our friends. Burning with shame, humiliation, and rage, I said nothing to her and left for my uncle’s house in Badda. That very night I managed to get her middle brother’s number and told him what had happened. Her middle brother was a fiery-tempered man, and if she feared anyone in this world, it was him alone. He called her and gave her a thorough scolding. That same night, she created a fake ID called ‘Revenge’ and uploaded all our intimate photos, obscuring herself with Photoshop while tagging me. Seeing this, my whole body began to tremble. I called her repeatedly—she wouldn’t pick up. I felt like I was going mad; my mind wasn’t working at all. Everything seemed chaotic. Without thinking, I left my uncle’s house. It was quarter to one at night. I found nothing on the streets. Without considering the consequences, I began running aimlessly. Somehow, I had to reach her hall, had to see her. Nothing else existed in my mind. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a microbus struck me. I lost consciousness.
I can no longer think like other girls do. My life isn’t like theirs. I have to constantly perform the act of smiling and getting along with everyone. Those who are disabled must laugh a great deal—otherwise, survival becomes impossible for them. People struggle desperately in their battles with life even with two hands and two legs, and I have only two hands. In trying to get me treatment, my father has been reduced to poverty. Now my treatment proceeds like me—limping along. I can’t go on anymore. I’ve been defeated. I feel so very tired. I don’t want anything for myself. I only want to see smiles on my parents’ faces. I can’t remember the last time I saw my father laugh. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t see tears in my mother’s eyes. Of course, this is how it should be! I’ve caused them so much pain! Their penance for bringing me into this world is still far from over. But I never cry—if I cry in front of my parents, I won’t be able to save them anymore, I know this! In this life, I’ll never be able to do anything for anyone again. There was no point in my coming into this world. I often wonder, why did this happen to me? Whether I can help anyone in this life or not, I’ve never harmed anyone! What was my crime, then?
My body now
extends only to my knees, my face is
twisted, several of my front teeth
are broken, and it’s very
difficult to move my left hand. I have no hair on my head—the doctor shaved it all off. Once the whole world was beside me; now no one is beside me except my parents.
No one kisses me now except my mother. Father still calls me
princess, just like before. Why did I survive! Whenever this thought comes to mind, I cry so much! Seeing these two people’s
love makes me want to live desperately, despite everything. I can’t see anything with my right eye,
I can see dimly with my left,
the doctor says if I don’t get treatment right away, that eye’s sight
won’t last much longer either. The eye that hasn’t gone completely blind yet—I’m almost afraid to open it and look—
everything just keeps floating before me! I used to have two eyes, now one is gone, the other is almost gone too—yet………yet I
can see people’s faces more clearly than anyone else in the world. I’m hard of hearing,
I have to wear a hearing aid
to hear. No one wants to talk to me, I can never share anything with anyone. I feel like talking so much—
not about any pain or complaints, I want to talk about life itself, but no one
has any time for me.
After this accident,
Rudra mercifully shut down that fake account. He wrote me in my inbox: “There,
I forgive you.” He never
made any contact with me again. I didn’t either, and never will until I die. I have no complaints
against anyone. All my time is spent fighting just to stay alive—where’s the time to complain? I know what I’m receiving
is the result of my actions. Trusting people again and again—that’s the only sin
of my short life. Many people show sympathy when they see me, but only I know
what I’m going through! Even the wisest and most sensitive person in the world
cannot feel another’s pain, let alone
imagine it!
Sometimes I think
how full of life’s understanding I once was. Now only life itself barely
clings to my body. The disabled have no understanding of life—
only life itself.
Life had given me many stories as gifts, I was quite content with those stories; now what I have
are merely the useless stories of a useless person.
The other day one of my father’s
friends said to me, Kheya, finish your honors degree. Then you’ll be able to take the BCS exam
under the disabled quota. My dear, you weren’t a bad student. If you try, you can do it.
I know
uncle said what he said
for my own good.
Still, hearing his words hurt somewhere deep in my chest, I swallowed tears with my breath………I was also
angry. I don’t know who that anger was directed at.
I was once one of the
five most beautiful girls in my department. At least that’s what everyone used to say.
Sometimes when I forget and this comes to mind, I still feel good.
Now I am the
ugliest girl in the whole world. I understand that even an ugly girl’s laughter
appears ugly to everyone. Still I laugh, I laugh so much………I have to
laugh.
They stole my chastity,
stole my faith in humanity, yet I turned
around and stood up again.
Love took everything
from me, I could no longer stand, became
forever crippled—inside and out.
No matter how hard one
tries, perhaps humans can never escape
their destiny.
যতই চেষ্টা করুক মানুষ বোধহয় কিছুতেই তার নিয়তিকে এড়াতে পারেনা।
অসম্ভব রকমের সত্যি কথা,,
এটা গল্প না সত্যি বলেই মনে হচ্ছে কিছু কিছু ঘটনা মনে হচ্ছে একদম চোখের সামনে ভাসছে।