Part-1

It is a wonderful experience to live in a hall of residence at any university. One’s life must remain incomplete if one does not have the taste of a university dorm. In Bangladesh to live in a university hall is like to live in the Garden of Eden. Beside education, there many things to learn from campus life such as culture, politics, acting, reciting, and what not. University of Dhaka was the Oxford of the East because of its residential facilities for the students. A student lives in the hall almost free of cost. In return s/he is to pay only around 200 taka per year as seat rent and house tutor fees. At the university halls electricity seldom goes off, and they are well-facilitated with waters and gas supplies. When on rare occasions power goes off in the evening, students blow whistle, play on flutes, beat drums, plates and pots, sing songs, do gossip sitting round, crack jokes, shout and bark dogs or fox,  laugh and roll down on the grassy ground in the midst of the halls. In the afternoon, when everybody takes a nap, butterflies are found to fly from one flower to flower. If it is a dark night you can see millions of mysterious stars shining in the sky lying on your back. And if it is a moonlit night you will surely have dreamy feelings. You can even keep the windows open and can sleep bathing in the moonlight.

The first year ‘flew away depending on the rosy wings’ of romantic imagination.  “I enjoyed many programs like the picnic in my department, the celebration of Pahela Falgun, Valentine’s Day, 21^st February, 26^th March, the great Independence Day, Pahela Baishakh, Bangla Academy Book Fair, seminar, symposium, Path Natak, cultural programs, and celebration of a number of national and international days to my hearts content. I was as happy as a bird freed from its case in my university life.”  So noted Raju in his diary. It was fantastic experience to celebrate the Pahela Baishakh in the university hall and especially at Ramna Batamul. When it was 12:00am of Pahela Baishak, the boys started blowing whistle, playing on flutes, beating drums, plates, glass and utensils. And they were running to the Ramna Batamul. Raju joined them to share the fun. He found some students wearing shorts, lungi, genji, etc. He felt ashamed of. Still, he followed them. They ran towards Roquiah Hall and Shamsunnahar Hall and started to dance. The gate was closed. So nobody could enter but the girls came out of their rooms and were standing on the balcony. The students who had motorbikes with them shined the head light towards the balcony. Now the girls and the boys could clearly see each other. Some girls were holding candles in their hands. Some started to blow conch shell. A boy shouted at the girls to the top of his voice saying, ‘Come my Queen.’ The girls responded to the call replying, ‘Come my King.’ In the morning different musical groups started to perform their musical shows. Many were selling panta–hilsha, toys, masks, flutes, clay made toys, handicrafts. People from all walks of life came to join the festival wearing colorful sari, panjabi and pajamas. A group of people brought out procession with ploughs, yolks, toka, scythe, nidani, sticks and levelers carrying on their shoulders. Charukala Institute brought out a colorful procession having huge paper-made tigers, elephants, palki, pankha, fish, dragon etc. Ice-cream, balloon, nut, chocolate, fruit, chatpati and   sweet venders were found here and there.  Singers sang Bhatiali, Bhawaiya, Murshidi, Jari, Shari, Nazrul songs, Tagore songs and patriotic songs. In the afternoon there was not a single spot blank at TSC, Dhaka University, Sohrawardi Udyan and at Ramna Park. It was just looking like a big sea of floating people. Some people were found carrying their kids on their shoulders. Discussion programs were also being held informing the gathering about the history of Bangla year. Raju came to many unknown stories about Emperor Akbar the great, his regime and the history and reasons of introducing Bangla calendar. In villages, Raju remembered that Hul Khatas were held on the advent of Baishakh. The housewives cooked boiled rice, fried rice with date gur which was called moa. Different kinds of pitha, payesh and cakes were also made on the occasion.

Part-2

When annual cultural and sports competitions are held in the university halls, it wears a festive look. Raju became astonished to see the brilliant performance of the students in those competitions.  In every field of sports and games — chess, carom, badminton, football and cricket; in athletics race competition, high jump, long jump, javelin throwing, swimming etc — are held. Cultural competitions including debate, recitation of poem, music competition, dance competition, storytelling, jokes, acting, pantomime, essay writing, recitation from the Holy Quran so on and so forth. Raju did not know that the boy staying in the next room to him is so good a debater. What a speaker! Marvelous arguments he presented before the house. Everybody applauded his wonderful performance. Dancers, singers, badminton and table tennis players really gifted eye catching performance to the audience.  Raju could never imagine that they were that much talented. ‘Face is not the index’ of measuring one’s intelligence. Raju knew many of them but could never guess that they were that talented. Besides, VC, ministers, scholars and other dignitaries come either to inaugurate the programs or to distribute the prizes. National singers like Runa Laila, Sabina Yasmin, Baby Nazneen, Momtaj, Azam Khan came to perform on other occasions. Having enjoyed all these events Raju had the realization that campus makes student life glorious and student life makes campus glorious.

Part-3

Raju was so excited that he wrote to his mother that he was not coming home to celebrate Eid. He remained in the hall to enjoy the Eid.  He celebrated all Eids in the village. So he wanted to taste how Eid in Dhaka city is. The first few days of the Eid vacation he spent in purchasing Eid garments for him and some gifts for his parents, sister and brother-in-law.  But he started feeling lonely as days passed by. The hall looked dark, empty and seemed to be wailing in absence of its lodgers. All left the hall save some cadres who took the security charge of the hall in their own hands like the sons who keep vigilance at night to ensure their hold on a disputed land left by their father in fear of being invaded and occupied by the goons. Some other 25 to 30 students were found hanging about the hall who had examinations after the vacation and whose target was to chew and digest their books either to get first class or to stand first in the class. Raju knew two or three of them only by face.

So, he started feeling listless before the evening of the Eid day. He did not get out of his room. He slept the whole afternoon. For the first time he felt that he was missing his Mom and Dad. He felt like leaving the hall. But there was no way. He did not book any ticket for home. His stomach started boiling but the dining hall and canteen were not open. So he intended to go to New Market or Shahbag to take dinner. Washing himself he finished saying his Magrib prayer. When he was crossing 2^nd floor he  heard the sound of laughter coming out from a room of his acquaintance. He knocked the door thinking to invite them to take dinner with him outside.  The door was opened by a bald headed half known senior bother.’

“Excuse me. May I come in?”

“Oh, sure.”

He extended his hand to shake with me and I introduced myself, “I’m Raju, from Jessore, 1^st year, Dept. of Philosophy.”

“Thank you. I’m Anuj, Political Science, final year. Home district Comilla. And this is Sadi Bhai.”

“Assalamu alaikum.”

“Walaikumus salam,” Shaking hands said Sadi. “Final year, Economics.”

Dragging Raju a chair Anuj  said, “Sit down. Raju never mind our Sadi bhai comes from Noakhali. He feels ashamed of telling the name of his district. So I am to tell you.

“What of that even if I am from Noakhali?”

“No, nothing. Actually, I wanted to say that New Khali, means Noa Khali people are very nice. Talented… Hardworking… Diligent.. And many more. Isn’t it friend?” said, Anuj, testing boiled rice on his finger tips. Raju saw that vapors were coming out of the pot and were getting scattered in the air. They were cooking rice.

“Listen, you may think whatever you like about Noakhali people. You must have to admit that Noakhali people pilot the country. More than thirty percent secretaries come from Noakhali. And ten to thirty percent ministers of any government come from Noakhali. Mind it.”

“OK, friend, I surrender and salute you. Your people are great.  That is why it is said if Noakhali people are planted on the ground, they will sprout, grow and spread their branches all around. Raju, you know, even if you go to the moon, you will find a Noakhali man there. A Noakhali man comes to Dhaka city penniless and become the owner of an apartment within twenty years.”

“Do you think your Comilla people are stainless Tulsi Pata?”

“I never claimed that. Did I ever, dost? But you must not but admit that we also play a very significant role in any government. Moreover, if Noakhali has got thirty per cent secretaries, the contribution of Comilla is at least 20 percent, you know?”

“Ok, ok. You are the boss. Now, finish cooking quickly. My bowels are burning. “

Raju, never mind, we are friends and we always go on Palestine-Israeli fashion. Of course, I’m cocksure that though there are solar and lunar eclipses between us, there is no possibility to collide with each other. ‘The moon and the sun will never be able to catch hold of each other’.”

“ Raju, let us take dinner, Raju is our guest today.”

“No, no, brother, thank you. I actually came to invite you to take dinner with me. I was feeling lonely and I came to take you to New Market or Shabagh or somewhere else.

“Ok, let’s have on any other day but today you share with us. We have got egg fry and mashed potato.”

“Thank you so much bhaiya.”

“Ok. We won’t press you. But why didn’t you go home to enjoy Eid? We didn’t go because we have exams. My dear friend, Sadi, is taking BCS exam and that is why we didn’t go home. You know Raju, he is a would-be secretary.”

“I wanted to celebrate Eid in Dhaka. I want to taste it here.”

“Do you have any relative at Dhaka?”

“No.”

“Then it will be a very bad experience for you. You will feel lonely.  Anyway, we will say our Eid prayer in the National Eid Ground, High Court premises tomorrow at 8:00 am. Ok. So, get up early in the morning and we will call you. Which room do you stay in Raju?”

“555. I had a very wonder full time with you. See you tomorrow.”

“Ok. Bye.”

When Raju got down the ground floor, he met Mr. Sami, one of their senior brothers. He expressed his wonder having seen him in the hall. “What’s up Raju? Didn’t you go to your village home?”

“Nothing, Just to celebrate the Eid here in Dhaka.”

“But I see you are still in the hall. Why didn’t you go to Barisal?”

“I’ll enjoy my Eid vacation in my aunt’s house at Mirpur. I have just come to take my CPU. It may get stolen.”

“Is there any thief here in the hall? I can’t believe.”

“You don’t believe or not, there are thieves. Last year thieves broke into many rooms and took away everything valuable they got available. Many students made complaints to the house tutor. Nothing happened. Once your valuables are lost, nothing can be done. Who cares to catch the thieves? So, we must take care. Ok, Raju, I’m getting late. Eid Mubarak.”

“Thank you bhaiya. Have a nice Eid, have a nice vacation, have a nice sleep and have a nice dream.”

“I see, you talk so nice, Raju,. Thank you. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Raju moved towards the hall gate and found four or five cadres playing cards in the guest house. Raju knew one or two of them. They are from Tangail. Raju pretended not to take a look at them.  Crossing NeelKhet, he went to the New Market, Chadni Chak, and visited some of the shops at Elephant Road and found the markets overflowing with customers. There was hardly any space to stand or to walk on the footpaths.  He found people of all ages. And all were in jolly mood. Shopkeepers were also very busy in the last moment’s sale. Sometime they were getting themselves involved in hard bargaining with their customers.  Markets were decorated with colorful lights. Roads and streets are almost empty. Often people and brokers were dragging the cattle they bought for slaughtering on the Eid day. They were shouting and waiving the sticks in their hands to frighten the animals. These brokers either fastened their towel round their west or had worn them on their head like a turban. Raju asked the price of some of the animals. The buffalos and cows were very healthy and gigantic ones but the price was fairly high. The roads and streets were being filled with cow dung. But the cattle dealers seemed to be very happy and busier than they actually were. They seemed impatient to get back to their children and wives as quickly as they finished their task of producing the animals to the owners’ house. He also found a camel bought by a Dhakaia Kutti.

“How much, brother?”

“It took six lakh only, said the Kutti proudly.”

Raju could not imagine that a man can spent so much money for sacrificing an animal for celebrating Eid-ul-Azha. He could not imagine that how much money one earned. But he realized that the whole community was ready to celebrate the Eid. He considered himself a part of their joy.

Part-4

He came back to the campus having dinner from Hotel Silvana, Shahbagh. It was a moonlit night. The whole campus seemed to be silent and over-flooded with soft, silky, divine moonlight.  Raju found a white bull tied inside the hall gate. House tutor Jahid sir, some cadres and hall staff were looking after the bull gathering round.  Reaching his room he opened the window and let the moonlight enter his room. And he slept under the cover of the moonlight. He woke up hearing the sweet sound of Fazr Azan coming from the central mosque. The daylight was breaking slowly dispersing the darkness outside. Gentle, cold breeze was blowing. He pulled up the kantha over his body and closing his eyes he tried to visualize the Eid day of his boyhood. Today it was a completely different day in his life. The much he heard the heart touching sound, Allah—hu Akbar, the more he was thrilled. He finished his morning prayer, bathed and having shemai from the dining hall and went to perform the Eid prayer in the National Eidgah, the High Court premises. He always nursed a desire deep in his heart to say prayer with the president of Bangladesh. He developed such a desire having seen the Eid prayer held on the High Court premises on television channels. So, he started for Eidgah quite early in the morning. He stood in the second row just behind the president. After performing the Eid prayer he waited for a long time to fulfill his desire and he was very nervous having seen the protocol and the gunmen all around him. Anyway his joy knew no bounds when he embraced the president. He came back to the hall almost empty pocket. He spent all the money in charity out of joy. The bull was slaughtered and the beef was divided into three portions first. One portion was distributed among the poor people. Then the two other portions were again divided into two and were distributed each portion to the hall staff, house tutor, political cadres and residential students. Raju took meal with the Kurbani-beef in the dining and after having a nap in the noon, he went to visit the Lalbag Fort to overcome boredom. He was thrilled to see the five hundred years old fort made by one of the most famous Sultan of Indian subcontinent Shyesta Khan. He saw the tank, the mosque, Hamamm Khana, the grave of Pari Bibi, the foster daughter of Shayesta Khan, the gold, silver and copper coins of that period, arms, swords, spears, shields etc.  He went back to the past for the time being. His mind got scattered conjecturing the sad end of a highly rich, cultured and established empire of Sultani and Mughal Dynasties and the British atrocities on them.  He met one of his friends, Laila, there coming to visit the fort with her parents and relatives. She was so excited to see Raju. She introduced him with her parents and relatives. They took many snaps of him along with her parents. She invited her to stay the night in their house. Raju was in a fix and ashamed as well. But as her parents pressed him hard he could not deny. Lailas are a very big family and they had an old fashioned Dhakaia Kutti Bari. Though it was an old building, there was the mark of aristocracy everywhere. Laila’s father was a business man.  They were originally from Bikrampur. One of her uncles was the commissioner of ward no. 43, Lalbagh, Dhaka City Corporation. Raju was greatly entertained in Laila’s house. All of them were very happy to get Raju as their guest. Raju befriended Laila’s younger brother, sister and cousins promptly. He made a great fun with them. He sang songs, cracked jokes, told stories, and watched TV with them. He offered them salami and received gifts from them. Those small, cute kids sang and danced moving round him. Raju was fed with numberless pitha, payesh, firni, halua, castard, juice, biriani, borhani, beef roast, mutton rezala, chicken curry, and hilsha fish with mastered seed. The next day Raju took leave of them wearing the Punjabi and Pajamas gifted by the parents of Laila.

“Getting back home, please give a phone call,” Laila said to Raju.

Raju nodded. He waved his hand as a sign of saying good bye and got into a taxicab. The next day Raju journeyed to his native village. His parents’ reaction was like as if they had found out their lost Jewell.

Part-5

At the time of admission test Raju boarded on the room of a senior brother of his school who lived in Surza Sen Hall.                                   Raju returned the university hall two or three days late after the university had opened. When he reached his room he found the room was overflowing with guests. And most of them were girls. Raju stumbled. He hesitated whether he should enter or not.  Rashed saw and introduced him with the rest. “All these are my friends.”

Raju also noticed that the room is full of flowers and sweets. One of the girls lifted a piece of sweet and requested to open his mouth. Raju acted accordingly. “This is for the celebration of our friend Rashed’s being the first class first.” So let us celebrate bhaiya. Ok?”

When the guests departed, Rahsed warned Raju, “Raju, beware of four ‘Ps’:  public, police, politics, papparaji and three ‘Ws”: woman, wealth and wine. When you succeed you might fail to resist the flood of popularity. But when you are in a bad patch they will never stand by you. You will find nobody around you.”

But Raju dared to argue Raju because he knew him to be a man of very liberal view. So he fearlessly passed his opinion,  “Shouldn’t we do politics to better our society and to establish democracy, bhaiya?”

“Of course,” said he. “But politics has turned into a monkey business. The party which forms the government dominates thoroughly and cares the opposition and the public for a straw. They are more interested in making money than making law. Do you call it politics or democracy? Democracy gives us unlimited freedom. But that does not mean that one will have to harm others. Democracy is not a mere word, we utter it and the society becomes democratic automatically. Democracy is a matter of practice. In democracy tolerance level should be hundred percent. Democracy should be made our culture. We have to practice democracy not only in our political life but also in our social and personal life as well. Now democracy brings no good news for the multitude. It is said that ‘democracy is a government far the people, off the people and bye the people.”

But Raju didn’t understand why Rashed bhaiya warned him against ‘public’. So, he said, “ Bhaiya, but why should we be aware of public.”

“Ok, it is because when public favor you, they favor you all and wholeheartedly. But if their daydream once is broken they will take your skin out of your body. Understand?”

“Thank you. But do you come to know all about these things?”

“It’s nothing difficult. Just keep your eyes open and you will learn many things.”

Raju could not but honor Rashed’s argument. Rashed is so generous and honest a man that he used to sit on the floor and he let Raju sleep on his bed. So sacrificial a man he has never seen in his life! He took him to the market, to the mosque and even taught him how to keep his shoes and stockings neat and clean.

Part-6

The other day when he boarded down from a rickshaw in the hall gate, he saw that a student is beating a rickshaw puller over a quarrel of rickshaw fare. The rickshaw puller demanded 15 taka but the student is reluctant to pay him more than 8 taka. Some other student also joined the show of beating the rickshaw puller. Rashed  tried to stop them and let the rickshaw puller go. He also paid him the due. Thus he learned many things from him. So, he felt that if he could pass the whole of his university life with Rashed.

Four months later after my admission the university was declared closed because of the clash between two student factions. Two cadres and a tokai died in that clash. Before afternoon the campus seemed to be empty and silent. Raju came back to my home and passed two months idly. In these two months he felt that he was living in a primitive age.  In the hall he read four or five dailies daily. Now he don’t read any. When the halls opened, the campus looked jubilant again throbbing with lives and activities. But there were casualties among the rival student groups both in the halls and in the campus. Most of the change took place in the government. And they were quarreling with one another in capturing halls.   In the gate of every hall police guards were deployed. Besides armed cadre guards consisting of political students were posted at night. The cadres all through the night play cards and take whisky at the hall guestroom.

However, Raju just completed his first year examination. He was preparing his bag and baggage to go to his native village. Suddenly, a hall staff came and informed that two aged persons were waiting to meet him in the guest room. Raju ran down quickly and found that they were nobody but his parents. He took them to his room and introduced them to Rashed. They were very pleased to be introduced to Rashed. “ We have heard a lot about you from Raju. Last time when he went home he always talked about you. Anyway we are grateful to you that Raju got such a brother. Raju could not survive here without you,” said Raju’s father.

“Raju has the habit of exaggerating things,” said Rashed. “Wash yourself first, take lunch and then take rest  for a while. We would discuss it later on.”

“Babajee, this is for you,” said  Raju’s mother  to Rashed handing in some meat , halua, and patali made of date gur.

After washing, they all got out to visit the Central Shaheed Minar, Hosni Dalan, and  Ahsan Monjoil in the after noon. Raju took his parents very carefully to those places avoiding some spots in the campus where boys and girls pass their time in such an objectionable disposition, that they might feel ashamed of. After the visit they took hajir biriani. Raju took his parents to a hotel in the Nawabgoj Road to pass the night. The next day Laila came running hearing that Raju’s parents had came to Dhaka. Laila’s parents also came and made many complaints against Raju for not telling them that his parents came to visit Dhaka. They facilitated Raju’s parents with car, transport and other necessaries for the convenience of visiting all the sights they desired to see. They entertained them greatly taking them at their house.  Raju’s did not like whatever Laila did for his parents as he felt that he was going to get involved deeply with Laila’s family. Anyway, parents came back home content.

Part-7

Two or three days later after Raju’s  arrival in the hall, Rashed anxiously told him to find out a friend who resided at Salimullah Hall so that he could  manage a seat for him. Rashed also informed Raju that in the Dean’s meeting with the vice-chancellor  it was that the administration was going to impose restriction on residing outsiders in the halls. From now students would have to live in their own halls. He was in a fix. That evening a terrible incident took place. Their hall was captured by another group of students. They ransacked a number of rooms which are known as political rooms, burnt the valuables of some rooms and beat a couple of students. They also shot at a student leader. Luckily he toppled over of the outer wall of the hall and narrowly could save his life. The violent cadres also came to vandalize the room of Rashed . He was not at the hall that time. He usually goes to teach a student as a house tutor. Actually that hour of the evening the hall almost remains vacant. The students get out the hall either to give adda at TSC or go to market to do shopping or remain outside to do their needful. Adda at TSC, Mall chatter, hakim chatter, at library, Ramana Park, Shohrawarbdi Uddyan, and in front of Rokeya and Shamsunnahar hall and some other places in the campus get dense. Any way he  was too frightened to forbid them from vandalizing the room of Rashed Bhai. Among the cadres he found the boy who quarreled with the rickshaw puller and dog Shishir. They wanted to burn the room. But the other students did not allow them to do that. They said , “Rahsed Bhai is simply a good boy. We need not crack any personal vengeance over him.”  One of the cadres was going to slap Raju. But the other unnerved him. They dragged him out of the room. They went away chanting the slogan, “Flood of blood will wash away all the injustice; Fight, fight, fight-we want and want to live by fighting. The black hands of the terrorists, thrush and crush. The goons of SDP, beware and be alert. Accomplices and collaborators of SDP, leave Bangladesh at once. ………….When they left the place, Raju was almost crying. He found blood was dripping from his elbow. He could not imagine how they could smash the room of Rashed. Rashed used to lead sometimes the congregation of Jumma and other prayers in absence of the pesh imam. He sent a message to Rashed by one of his friends saying not to come to the hall that night. Later on at eight pm police raided the hall. They shot tear-gas cell in side the hall. Most possibly while they were vandalizing the room a piece of glass hit on his hand. There was a wonderful story about dog Shishir. Once he went to extol money from Katabon market. But he was given nothing. So he took away a dog forcefully from the dog dealers. Since then he is called dog Shishir. There were two leader Shishirs that time in the Surzo Sen Hall. For an easy recognition the students gave them such names.

Part-8

One of Raju’s friends having seen him the next day thoughtful enquired what happened.  He saw him pale and dry and looking silent. He asked what had happened to him. Raju informed him that he could not stay at Surzo Sen Hall. He must find a seat in his own hall, Salimullah. He assured him not to be worried at all. He took him to Salimullah Hall and met a student leader and said, “He has given me the second life. He needs a seat and he wants that it has been carried properly.” The leader gave him a seat in room no. 131 which is known as gono room. Four seats, eight persons. But he laid down a condition that he would have to attend the political processions brought out in the campus by the student leaders. He was very much scared in the first few days and passed almost sleep less nights. Gradually, he started to befriend others and to be intimate with them.

Let us get back to the past for a moment to narrate why Raju’s friend was doing too much for Raju. One morning a stranger came to meet Raju in the hall. He handed him a chit. He was asked to meet a lawyer in the CMM court and to pay the bearer five hundred taka. He is imprisoned in the central jail. It was written by one of his friends. He was one of his class mates. He thought that he was going to be black mailed. But he could recognize the hand writing. So, he shared the matter with Rashed bhai. He told Raju that he might be arrested on political ground. So he took him to the hall president of the ruling part student wing. He phoned to the Ramana Police Station. He smiled and let them know that it was not a political case. Might be he was arrested from Sohrawardi Uddyan at night. So, they went to the CMM court, met the lawyer and after much bargaining they settled to give him five thousand taka. He gave them a ticket. They went to the central jail with that ticket. They waited until it was noon. When Raju’s friend  came out of the jail, they found him almost naked. Everything of him was robbed off by the goons inside the jail. He lost his wrist watch, pants, shirt, and mobile set. He was wearing only a half pants and a genji. They did not know what to do, should they laugh or cry.

Part-9

Raju passed the first few days in the Salimullah Halll in great tension because the cadres kept their arms and bullets either under his bed or behind the book shelf. He was very much scared of being caught by the police. But he started adjusting himself with the new situation like the other room mates. He decided to befriend all and to developed relation with them. He has no other way. He got a nice scope. He invited all the student leaders of Salimullah Hall on my birth day. He arranged the program at night. Everybody thanked me. Some petty cadres started calling him ‘the boss’. They were immensely happy that they had never enjoyed such an event in their life.  He fed them all with my birth day cake and packet biriani. They were immensely happy and instantly declared that he should be shifted to a two seated room. I thanked them.  He presented gifts to the party secretary and the president. He made a small speech which was hailed by everybody. Some one said, “ Oh, he is a good speaker”. He did it intentionally. It took a whole week to prepare the speech. Then he memorized so accurately so that he do not forget any point during delivery. His plan worked properly and he was able to draw the attention of the political leaders. He also planned to sing a song in chorus. After eating they danced and sang.

Which ship does not sink?

It’s friendship, .. friendship..

Hurray….. hip ,hip, h..ip

Hurray hip, hip, h..ip

Raju started to participate in the political processions brought out in the campus and in the hall. He also kept watching with arms in the hall gate at night. Thus he participated all kinds of party activities. He was learning how and which slogans are to chant during the procession, how to deliver a speech, and how to handle political matters, how to make grouping, how to make channels with the senior leaders and how to get to their blue book. No body was ready to spend a penny for the party. Everybody was busy only in   earning two pies.  He spending a lot of for organizing any program or in any crisis faced by the party. So he was soon picked up by the senior leaders.

But unlike the other so called student leaders he  never took food free of cost from the dining/ canteen nor took any toll from any shop or market though he could not very well stop them from doing all these things.  The most interesting thing he learnt is political diplomacy. Condemning the government for any thing and every thing even for good things. That is discrediting the credits of the government.  As a result the government will never be able to win the heart of the people even for its best possible contribution.  The easiest way to become a good leader and a good speaker is to mention the unhappy and unwelcome events published in the newspaper and telecast on the TV channels during delivering speech on the political stage. Besides, ‘always put on a happy smile on your face and sell it to your supporters’. Never criticize or condemn your party men even if they commit the worst of crime.  Never bother what one say about you in your presence or absence. One or two incidents may be presented before you. Raju branded it as political diplomacy. Such as beating the dining manager, on the charge of serving bad curry but the real intention behind it is to procure free food from the dining by the student leaders.

The other incident is,  in one of the meetings under the feet of Oparajeyo Bangla the then party Secretary Iqbal said in protest of molesting of a female leader of PDCS by the ruling party student faction. He usually started his speech condemning the prime minister “Madam…, do not consider PDCS a plantain tree. Do not be too foolish to think that teasing PDCS will excite your instinct of procreation. PDCS is a paprda tree full of thorns. If you come to tickle it, you will bleed only. Madam we do not know how you can assault a woman, being yourself a woman. We condemn the hateful act of our opposition friends. We also demand an investigation of the incident and to form a committee and to disclose the fact and expel those who are guilty.”

The other day in another procession the student leaders condemned the fact of delivering speech in the General Assembly of the UNO in Bangla. By delivering speech in Bangla, the then prime minister defamed Bangla because the world leaders do not know the language. So, they did not understand it. As the prime minister did not know English she failed to deliver speech in English. So, they continued blaming the prime minister. But four years later when their party came to power and their dear leader cum prime minister delivered speech in the same assembly, the same student leaders celebrated the incident claiming it and marking it as a historical incident. They hailed their leader as a great leader and congratulated her on placing Balngla in a dignified position in the world.Thus Raju was learning the secret of politics and he planned to capitalize his learning in building up his career in politics..

]]> http://www.youthwavebd.com/the-story-of-flowering-a-bud/feed/ 0 http://www.youthwavebd.com/survivor/ http://www.youthwavebd.com/survivor/#comments Sun, 01 May 2011 06:02:18 +0000 Youth Wave http://www.youthwavebd.com/?p=1344 Ifrith Islam

Physicians may consider a sleeper in a running bus a patient and initiate immediately to take the sleeper to a nearby hospital. But we Bengalis often sleep aboard on a vehicle and I was no exception on that day. Happily I was sleeping in the night coach hurriedly heading for Jessore town. It was rather a deep sleep when the bus was heaving and swaying. I was dreaming a sweet dream. But with an extreme jerk I opened eyes. The bus carrying us collided head-on with another coming from opposite direction. The ordeal I felt was terribly desolate and subsequently swathed me. The elusive impact left me astounded as I stood up to look around. I flurried as the debris scattered all over the accident spot. Broken glass, scattered luggage, bleeding and maimed passengers, groaning fellows lied here and there. For the first time I felt suffocation though on first opening my eyes I saw the furious and blazing smoke bellowing up from the spot. Sepulchral silence let me think that it was a nightmare. The gruesome situation and a choke scream like a deer clawed down by a starving Royal Bengal Tiger. I tried my best to pull up myself and succeeded. Though exhausted and limping and trying to cope up with the echo of “Help” through the aisle as it mingled around. I could not to recognize the screaming voice but could feel someone was in danger until I discovered my dearest friend near the door of the crushed bus lying almost unconscious. I stored all my energy picked him and piggy-backed him. I strolled toward a window to escape from the blast.

My dying friend asked for water whereas I was trying to get out of the hell. The rear sears of the bus blasted and I sat down to hide ourselves from the flares of flame. The stream of flame dazzled my eyes ahead of us. The extreme exhaustion by the pouring out blood had no energy left to step ahead by me.

No time was left to explode this bus. I thought briskly about our escape from this blazing hell which as killing me its glowing flame and its heat. So, I headed quickly with my dying friend as my back and some hope came down to me by seeing the raising sun and at the sun dial. Someone screamed, telling another, “Over there someone was trying to come out of the bus through the window on the driver’s right”. I could not hear the last word as it died down immediately and I fell from window and did not know what exact happened next.

For the second time, when I opened my eyes found me lying on a hospital bed and five or four pairs of eyes were on me and they said in chorus, “Thanks to Allah that He has kept you alive.” “Many of your fellow passengers of the bus died on the spot,” another said. I leaned against a pillow and asked them about my friend. In reply the doctor said, “He is OK and sleeping.” Later I heard the bus had turned into ash and a few of the bus passengers survived.

We were only the survivors from a fatal destruction and I still thank Allah that He really had saved us and swore to myself that I would never sleep in a running bus as long as I live.

]]> http://www.youthwavebd.com/survivor/feed/ 0 http://www.youthwavebd.com/6o-floors/ http://www.youthwavebd.com/6o-floors/#comments Tue, 04 Jan 2011 02:49:54 +0000 Youth Wave http://www.youthwavebd.com/?p=1105 Aminul Islam Ehsan

A few months ago, I went to a seminar and heard a charming story about a toddler’s lesson. The story goes like this. A man was working at home when his toddler daughter was asking him question after question which was disturbing him. So to keep her busy he tore an elaborate world map from a magazine. He thought it would keep her busy at least an hour. He ripped the world map into pieces and gave it to his daughter to assemble like a jigsaw puzzle. He told her not to return until she completed the map. To his amazement, she completed the map less than 10 minutes. The man was flabbergasted at how fast she completed such an elaborate world map inspite of being just a toddler. The girl then said “Daddy, there was a picture of a man on the other side of the magazine page. When l got the man right, I got the world right.”

The Ark International School
STD VIII

Contribution of our parents in our lives is much more than that of any other on the planet. They have taken unlimited hardship for us. From our birth the parents give so much to us but what do we give them back in return. We should help them as much as we can in gratitude as repayment. In this world, there is none of our own than our beloved parents. To us their dignity is next to that of the almighty creator. Allah says, ‘And that you be kind to parents’. But I ask you do all children help their parents in their old age, in time of need. It is the greatest of all sins to break the hearts of your parents. Yet there are many parents who are utterly deprived in every nook and cranny of Bangladesh. Parents living with their children have their own sufferings and those also suffer more living in old homes of the country. During the Eid-ul Fitre I saw a documentary on the elderly parents who were left in governmental old homes. Most of them had no regular contact with their families, not even on Eid. One man who was being interviewed said crying that his family didn’t even know where he was. He showed the reporter a picture of his grandchildren. Many of the parents cried with deep sadness when they talked about their families. All of these parents left their homes against their will only so that their own children would be burden with them. It is a shame that the children of these wonderful loving parents will not even try to help their parents.
Our parents never thought of us as a burden so we should not either. The Prophet (pubh) said, ‘Heaven is under the feet of the mothers’. He also said, ‘The pleasure can be achieved with pleasure of the father and the displeasure of Allah with the displeasure of the father’. Those who follow the advice of the parents can achieve betterment in this world, in the heaven and in the world hereafter. As a student, it is my duty is to make sure that the next generation does not make the same mistake as those of the past. My duty is to teach them the words of Allah and Prophet (pubh) from the Quran and Hadith for the betterment of humanity. I will also try my best to help deprived parents, who are currently in need. So, let’s change our motherland and then the world for the betterment of humanity.

Those were the last words we spoke to each other. I saw her going out of my sight. As she walked away, I was gazing at her with a disbelief. I still couldn’t believe my eyes. She had no regrets for whatever she had done. It seemed as if I existed nowhere in her life. She was one of the closest persons in my life, she was Raya, my best friend.

I believed nothing could break our profound friendship. But I never thought Raya herself would be doing so! She went away from my life without any proper reason and never turned back.

Years had passed by, but I was somehow stuck at the very day she went away. Sometimes I wondered how ruthless Raya had been to me and wanted her to come back and say sorry to me, but nothing like that happened in the past four years.

That was in the month of December when I went abroad to attend a seminar on cancer treatment. I am a doctor, so I had to visit a cancer hospital there. As I was passing through the corridor, all of a sudden my eyes caught the sight of a skinny patient lying on the bed. I stepped back to see her. For an instance I resisted my breath and to my great astonishment I realised that the person lying on bed was Raya!

I entered her cabin and stood beside her bed. My heart was pounding very fast. We both looked at each other. It took me no longer to realise the truth which was untold for years. Raya knew she was a cancer patient and had only some years left, so she went away intentionally to save me from the sorrow and grief of her death.

I was speechless and didn’t know how to react. It was the most painful shock I ever had in my life. How was it ever possible? How come, I didn’t feel the pain she was going through for past four years! I stood still staring at the pale lady lying on the bed. I was sobbing and so did she. I always thought I would come across some truth about her one day but I never thought it would end like that.

Nadia Sultana
The writer is a student of United International University