Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Suddenly out of nothing I started feeling sad..
It soon became so strong, i had to give up trying to concentrate on the bug I was working on..

I called my friend Eamon, and we came up with a plan..
We will meet in 3omins, will have coffee together and chirp charp for a while.
May be that wil make me feel better.

I changed my shirt..
Brushed my hair and ran down..
i didnt have to tell anyone where I was going.. dad didnt ask any question..
I remember the time when in every step I had to ask permission..and explain thing...
I felt the change.

I took a rickshaw and went to natok shoroni.
It was a wonderful night..
deam golden lights.. pretty less traffice due to Ramadan..
I smelled the poluted air of Dhaka.. didnt feel the polution..rather the smell of my beloved city..old crapped one.. but it is MY CITY !! I wish one day it will be a great city in the world !! I wish !! ONE DAY !!
I wished the change

Then I met the friend..ordered litte snack and coffee..110/-
It was pretty expensive for that.
But I had enough in my pocket..
A change there too

I was drinking coffee.
Once Eamon got a phone call and went outside the shop..
i saw his long grown up figure..
looking at him I could feel how changed I am too.. considerable a grown up !!

...

When I said bye to him.. i again started feeling that weired sadness..
I sighed and suddenly decided I will take a walk to home..no rickshaw..
I started walking..


On my way I found a gift shop, I thought .. why not?
I bought a gift for my bestest friend..
No reason.. no occation.. just a gift..
I felt better.
A lot better.

then a surprise..
I found a knife !!!

FLASH BACK !

I was reading at school.. class 6/7 .. I remember once suddenly I saw this knife in a book shop. Was it 80 or 90? Since then, whenever I went there I looked at that knife and I HAD TO sigh.. I could never collect that much money together to buy it.. I surely could ask mom to buy it.. but probably like everyother hobby, I wanted to have it by myself..
BUT i never made it..


After almost 8 years..that same knife..
I bought it.. 150 taka..
Tears blurred the world..
it was A little dream of a little boy to have it..and he finally made it..
BY HIMSELF !!

I started walking again.
I saw my city dark.. covered by loadshedding..
I saw tired rickshawalas sitting..
I saw kids lying on the footpath..
I saw people coming with big bags from shops..
I saw a traffic police active..very active..
I bought a juice for myself.. I was not thirsty at all.. I just to enjoy it !!
and started walking again..

When I came home I was sweaty from top to bottom.

Time changes the situation..
Time has changed me..
I felt that very cleary ( and may be very sweetly) this night

It was 27 October, 2006
Dhaka
 
posted by Gagan at 9/27/2006 05:51:00 PM | Permalink | 2 comments


2 Comments:


  • At 12:52 PM, Anonymous Anonymous

    27th October 2006 is not even here yet!!!

     
  • At 10:12 AM, Anonymous Anonymous

    ohh damn.
    It will 27 September !!
    Opppsss !!
    hehe

    Gagan

     
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
I dont remember everything..but i remember some scenes..

Scene 1:
I was standing on the staircase..
On my left there was a room full of little kids..
all of my age..
they were all sitting on some small chairs..

Sceen 2:
I was sitting in the room.. on a chair..
A kid was shouting standing.."Twinkle twinkle little star.."
The woman standing in the front praised him when he was finished.
I felt jealous.. why only that boy will be praise.. i know the poem tooo...
Why doesnt she ask me?
But i was shy and a little afraid in the new environment..
My firstever day at "School"
It was not school in fact.
it was "playgroup" level kintergarden, just some rooms in an apartment in the colony we lived.

Present scenario

September 4, 2006, Monday, Banani, Dhaka. 9:30 A.M.

I was sitting at 14th floor of the building.
In front of me a lady was filling up some forms for me in the computer.
When we were finished, I stood up.
I asked, "So, is there any official procedure left for me".
She said . "No..just call me after 15 days to check if everything has been in proper place or not. And I will call you if I need".
I gave her my usual smile and opened the door and stepped out as a "GRADUATE"

I dont believe yet that I am a graduate now..
Inside I am still a school boy wondering around.. looking for some fun...


 
posted by Gagan at 9/05/2006 09:27:00 AM | Permalink | 2 comments


2 Comments:


  • At 4:06 PM, Anonymous Anonymous

    Congratulations for our "Graduate" Gagan-mama !
    Wish you all the best for path ahead.
    Boromama.

     
  • At 7:43 PM, Anonymous Anonymous

    hey dost..

    graduate hoei geli seshmesh...baparta khubi anonder taina dost..ami khub lucky vabi nijeke karon ami ekhon ekta graduate er friend....valo thakis re..john

     
Friday, September 01, 2006
Did You read the story "The Road Back" by Erich Maria Remarque?
The soldier who came back to his home town.. he came back from war..
He felt the change in the city..or the change in himself..
He felt that the rhythm is missing..
Once reading a novel in his room in the night was the meaning of life..
But he cant find any interest now..
Tough world out there took the simplicity of his life..

Now he cannot feel easy with the changed life at home...
In his home country he is now feeling like a foreigner..

He dont even want to get back to from where he had been.. the war..

I read this book when i was a kid.
When I was 14/15 !!
I almost dont remember the story..

I just rememebered the guy..
He came to me in the fog of my memory..

He came to me
Because I am probably feeling the same

 
posted by Gagan at 9/01/2006 08:29:00 PM | Permalink | 1 comments


1 Comments:


  • At 2:05 PM, Anonymous Anonymous

    Dear Gagan-mama,

    I find all your writings very interesting - I enjoyed them all.
    I wish I could express myself like
    you.
    I can feel with my own life what you mean by "The road back". I have come to the conclusion that there is no "road back" - only "road forward" in this life.
    Wish you find your 'own'way again.
    - Boromama.