One particular day I would never forget. It was the night of Cyclone Aila. We guys were supposed to meet as it was last day of week and I was getting bored by whole week's office load. So, inspite of the warnings in medias, we dared to fix our dinner in one of my most favorite pizza corner. By the way, it was the best pizza I ever had so far and met there most wonderful service people in my life. I am not sure now whether the smile over the faces of the employees there or the food attracted us more. Anyway, that time I was thinking of start doing an MBA and my that friend was awesomely encouraging. He was one of the forces which made me thought of giving MBA a shot. He brought some guide books for me for the admission exam and we thought the weather would not be that worse. But the weather got really wild by it was 11 pm and still we felt it would not be that wild and would stop in couple of hours [hey, we have seen them all, haven't we!]. Little we knew it was just turning into a worst one. We still didn't bother of going and were chatting about how I should be preparing and all that. By that time we thought of wrapping up, it was 1 am and there was not a single person on the road. We got fully drenched with rain but didn't find better things to do except waiting for a taxi. We saw one taxi is coming, it was such a relief. I even started thinking of my warm bed. Wait, that taxi now would not let us in as he was going home. Now come on! We are all drenched in a horror night and you are going home!? We requested him for his mercy (!) and he gave us a 'king' look of "why the hell you guys are out for so long"? Yah we made a mistake, now show your prudence and give us a ride for God's sake! He still would not agree but I am sure he met two of the guys who don't give in easily, so we placed ourselves infront of his car. That worked and he reluctantly took us in his taxi. I am sure he was cursing us whole time but hey we were two nice guys - just hanging out late; a little too late!
I had a pact. My friend and I were like new bud-tester in town. Dhaka is a place where you would not find a lot of things to do - very few places to hang out, very few places for a quality times. So after being exhausted to find out a suitable place to play bowl, snooker or for a mere chat we ended up with our decision - Fast food joints are the best to hang out; What an irony! We used to meet there in weekends, sometimes brush up our pool skill nearby pool tables. But most of the times we were giving our bud a little more than enough. Very few of the fast food chains were there in Dhaka which our nostril didn't get the smell from. And once we finished testing all of them, we decided to stick with our favorite ones only. It was a fun seeing the same known ambience, same taste of food, same menu, same face of employees who greeted us as known friend. We used to be there almost 3 to 4 hours and ordering different dishes all through. It was like hanging out in it's best. We didn't bother about the topic of discussion and we went from office to politics to school days. One particular day I would never forget. It was the night of Cyclone Aila. We guys were supposed to meet as it was last day of week and I was getting bored by whole week's office load. So, inspite of the warnings in medias, we dared to fix our dinner in one of my most favorite pizza corner. By the way, it was the best pizza I ever had so far and met there most wonderful service people in my life. I am not sure now whether the smile over the faces of the employees there or the food attracted us more. Anyway, that time I was thinking of start doing an MBA and my that friend was awesomely encouraging. He was one of the forces which made me thought of giving MBA a shot. He brought some guide books for me for the admission exam and we thought the weather would not be that worse. But the weather got really wild by it was 11 pm and still we felt it would not be that wild and would stop in couple of hours [hey, we have seen them all, haven't we!]. Little we knew it was just turning into a worst one. We still didn't bother of going and were chatting about how I should be preparing and all that. By that time we thought of wrapping up, it was 1 am and there was not a single person on the road. We got fully drenched with rain but didn't find better things to do except waiting for a taxi. We saw one taxi is coming, it was such a relief. I even started thinking of my warm bed. Wait, that taxi now would not let us in as he was going home. Now come on! We are all drenched in a horror night and you are going home!? We requested him for his mercy (!) and he gave us a 'king' look of "why the hell you guys are out for so long"? Yah we made a mistake, now show your prudence and give us a ride for God's sake! He still would not agree but I am sure he met two of the guys who don't give in easily, so we placed ourselves infront of his car. That worked and he reluctantly took us in his taxi. I am sure he was cursing us whole time but hey we were two nice guys - just hanging out late; a little too late!
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For your utter concern, I am NOT talking about text books. Well, they also give me remembrance, sort of; but never too pleasant ones! The books I am talking about are the ones close to my heart. The ones which kept me awake at night, forced me put it inside of text books to deceive my parents, the books which had a distinct feel-good fragrance in it. Most of them were like my second soul. The long I would read the books, the long I felt I am one of the characters [as a matter of fact, mostly the central character though!]. The whole time I read them, I felt like it is happening with me; in front of my eyes. I used to rate books for longevity of impact of the illusion on me. The most favorite of course gave me the longest experience of being-there-done-that syndrome. It all started with the books I used to get in my birthdays. From the very little age those tales of Shorab-Rustam, Hercules, Arabian nights, Russian short stories made the pave to the liking. It didn't happen just like someone switched it on - rather it's other way around - I tried hard to switch this on in me. The sole cause is my family (well once again!). When you see all of your brothers and sisters are giving you a hard time reading books in a play time, you really need to give them a break! We had a nice medium sized library back in my town. I am glad that it was there. This played an immense role on my habit. I proudly can say: most of the fictional books and English books out there got my touch. I can recall taking away 3-4 books for 2-3 days and return them back and again taking others. Some of the old books were fragile like a crisp baked paper. Some of them even not being taken ever. That surely got me in. A desire to put my name as first reader for the books actually helped me went through those untouched books. I moved and goose-bumped by seeing so rich collection of old novels yet being unread. Some of the greater version of learning I got from some of the great books, I still can recall. Thank you books, you had always been a pleasant company. You welcomed me like a true friend, was there when I needed you and taken my tears on your shoulder. I can't recall any other friend with the trait you have - silent yet says a lot. Brilliant! I sometimes being called phony, no not always but by the friends when it's about winter and temperature! I LOVE winter, I love the smell of it, I love the way it comes - Putting everything down to ground. Making everything looks pale and not so exciting could be another trait I like of it. Back in Bangladesh, the northern side always gets the worst share of the experience. They almost feel like 0 degree with no insulation and poorly equipped houses. But still I loved it, I waited for it to come. I waited for the early dusk, the lazy dawn and the not so bright afternoons. The wintry mornings were like covered with fog, making the commuting almost with a snail pace. One of my rituals was to picking the night flowering jasmine from grounds. Putting your bare feet on the drew drenched grass, smelling the winter and picking up the jasmine is heavenly experience. You have to make sure there are enough of them on the ground, if not, give the tree a little shake. Well wait, actually you should at least once shake the tree anyway. If you have not seen snowfall, you would have the experience of seeing a fragrant snowfall. You will be covered with the jasmines, you will start smelling it and start putting it in your pocket. A handful of jasmine would suffice to do a better job than your febreze. Wonderful! Bengali New Year (Bengali: নববর্ষ Nôbobôrsho/পহেলা বৈশাখ Pôhela Boishakh) is all about color. In Gregorian Calendar the date is 14th of April. If you get too lucky that you are happen to be in Bangladesh this time of year, you will see it adorns itself with color of summer. To celebrate this occasion people start preparation from quite early. The official color is red, yellow and white and everyone comes with traditional attire paring these colors. The day starts with witnessing sunrise [yes, not just after it's 12 AM] under the big trees while listening to the first song of welcoming the first month. Then they go out for a long procession seeking well being of all (Bengali: Mongol Sobhajatra). In this meanwhile open air musical program takes place all around of this small country with unbound zeal. People like to gather with friends and family. Wear traditional dresses with distinctive color symbolizes the month. To Bengalis, the new year means new anticipation. They connect it with delight, color and sharing warmth. Though traditionally it was the start of businesses and opening a new ledger. But now the definition has been changed and became a celebration of people from all walk of life irrespective of religion or ideology. I understand you may get confused where am I here so that it made my life awesome?! Yes it is there, it somehow connected my life and being. The things I have told before are somehow my story too, you just need to replace the word People with I/me. We are almost in the start of the month April and I am sure back in Bangladesh, it already started preparing itself for the biggest congregation of Bengali all around the world. I don't know whether it happens to everyone or not but when a student gets into her Undergraduation, to me, she eyes to this auspicious day of completing her graduation - the commencement day. Fulfilling the dream she dreamed for many years, the experience she gathered in these years being a Sophomore and Senior, all come to an end. Life starts to shape in a different pattern, with a bigger picture. Study debt ofcourse one of the parts of this process, which certainly is worth it. For me the graduation day was not only the parade with black gown but a day to call off the connection with my second home, the place produced thousand pictures of joy, sorrow, ecstasies. It does not happen instantly, rather you wait for the day to come. The night you go early to bed making sure all your preparations are in place. You double check every details - even the color of your tie. You wake up in a festive mood. Take a shower, pull on your suit, tie your tie, apply gel on your hair and start putting the over sized gown that never comforted you. But today it's different; even the scary looking gown seems gorgeous to you. You start walking the corridor with your chin up. Family usually come by this time, get in to their seats waiting for their loved ones being graduated. The moment you move your mortarboard tassel, you know that is it. Then you go for endless photo shoot with your friends, the surrounding which just while ago was silent like grave now buzzing with laughter. Your mother insists for a magic snap to put it on her wall. Ok after all, you got it right, all your effort paid off, Now? You go back to your room and then suddenly situation changes. You start feeling bad for every inch of the place once you hated like hell. Your mind rewinds all the past memories. You feel now there is a big cruel world waiting for you, you don't know what it would turn out to be. You shake hands with room mates and pick the taxi full of your belongings to a new destination, to an uncertain journey. Your dream day does not turn out that dreamy anymore. My situation was almost same but I managed to stay couple of more days to linger the heat. It was like leaving your family going to a war where you would never win. 'The red heaven' we use to call it, when I first had the glimpse of it I found it dreamy. I was a little baffled to see a University so neat that could be in Bangladesh. From the first day when some new faces gathered for a tour in the cold winter night to know the place that will be called home next 4 years, to the day when I went to call a taxi to embark to a new place after completing the 3.8 years of journey there, I feel I was blessed. I was blessed for being one of the person lived, eaten, hung, swore, cried, walked, played and got overjoyed in that campus. Red heaven came to me as a blessing and an opportunity to see my life in a different frame, for the very first time without presence of family members. The calm and green surrounding of the place always gave me an immense pleasure, something where I like myself to be belonged. When I came out from it, got in the job life then I felt how precious, how cherished that time was. Even after 9 years I feel the same goose-bumps when I see pictures of IUT. The place of all the cool engineers of Bangladesh. Even after getting MBA from one of the best business schools from Bangladesh I still want to see myself as an ex of one of the best engineering schools of Bangladesh. IUT, I am proud of you, are you? #9: I heard roar of engine in place of bird's song, I smelled gasoline rather of mango flower.....3/16/2013
When I first came to Dhaka, the ever bustling city of Bangladesh, I got almost fainted by seeing the huge traffic jams and by the size of houses. Well, not exactly fainted, almost I mean. From the town where you will not find any traffic trail even in the first day of the week to a city where you will not find any day without a huge jam-packed street, from where you have space in front of your house to play basketball or even cricket to a place where even your dining and study merges, is something worth to faint for! I won't say I was not thrilled by sodium street lights, flashy neon of restaurants, some of the amazing places to hang out, but somewhere deep in my heart I had the pain of severing the connection with my beloved small town, 7 hours drive from Dhaka. This is the first time I felt I became alone - all alone. But it didn't take much time to fade away the lonesome romance and found myself on a frying pan. But I was lucky in all other senses, for being with my brother to share with every tits and bits, sharing house with other brother-like people who I still remember with great admiration. The admiration for what they are, the way they treated me and the instances they set for me. I could not ask for some people other than them. I never felt like I was alone or far away from home while I stayed with these people. I have found there some of the very nicest people for whole of my life. I still remember the outings, the never-ending fun every time we went for evening tea, the helping hand stretched over me by them, getting an emotional support group behind, getting some senior brothers to treasure the relations forever. Now it seems so glorifying when I look back to the life I had just before I embarked to my Alma-mater Studiorum - which eventually curved me up for what i am today. Wonder wonder wonder..full of wonder. A sole road surrounded by green trees so even in sunny summer day you would feel the shade of heaven. In a bright summer day, air filled with smell of sweet spring, aroma of mango flower lends an exotic feeling all around. When I recall of my home back in my town the first picture that comes is what I just wrote. It was not always as dreamy as it sounds, but my mind took snap only of the nicest part of it. First 15-16 years has a broader effect on my life and the way I think or see. The serenity, the naive people all around with big heart taught me some of the greatest lessons of life. I am grateful as I had not had to be in bustling Dhaka in begining of my life. The stadium, tennis court, school's play ground, library, town club all seem very close to my heart. I know this tiny town as I know my palm. Every inch of it gives me a sense of belonging. Terrific! Click to set custom HTML No, seriously. My life could never be the way it is if I didn't have a family like I have. If I start writing about my family and the impact it has over me, that would be another blog. The passion of music didn't grow within, it happened perhaps very early to consider. From my toddlers day I had listened to music my father used to love. Lata Mangeshkar, Mohammad Rafi, Mehdi Hassan seemed people I knew from my childhood. There was not a single day I had not woke up by the music my father used to play while started his days with clients. He probably was putting argument and giving suggestions to his clients as an advocate and on the other side Lata and Md. Rafi got a little romantic with adaas and husn [beauty and style]. And very interestingly no one's of my family members had similar choice when it's about singers and genre. This gave me a wide range of songs to listen, a different genre than other. By the age of 10, I got the chance to listen almost all the top singers in Bengali, Hindi and Urdu music arena. I started making my own niche from that time. Songs of Manna dey, Kishore Kumar, Jagjit and Chitra Singh started making their place in my heart. English songs had a different story to tell. Totally the other face to show off. Where bengali songs are about love and being romantic in subtle way english songs are rugged and talk not only about love but also about making it all through! Abba, Air supply, Chris de burgh, Lionel Richie came with their mesmerizing voice and a revolutionary music in it. Later days Bryan Adams, Wet wet wet, Richard Marx, Don Williams became my icon in English music entries. Some of them still are. Friends happen to say I have a very good ear for music. This is partly true for the influence of my past I presume. What a receptive people and musical environment I grew up with, Awesome! I would mind saying my life was not a cool one, I mean yah I had been bruised, I fell down, I had the toughest time but still that was how it destined to be! At times I would feel like talking with no one, dejected in my own made walls, stopped laughing but again life is probably like that. You really need to get out from shit, wash yourself, wear fragrance and start over again. I must had many memories which still are glittering like a gemstone and would give me fuel to go along with another half of my life. I am a little influenced from the blog of awesome in some extent while I chose the subject but I hope it will not give reader the same old feeling. #1: Family I had a wonderful extended family back in my town. Even who didn't live there would come to stay during festivals - and we got all the cousins and uncles aunties to mingle with. We used to had competitions among us, There were poetry, recitation, singing, chess, carrom, cricket (We used to call ourselves 40 battalion!, we could come up with quite a good set of cricket team) and yes gossiping! For these days we were free of doing any homework or study--that's probably one of the reasons we loved it that much! The competitions were divided in category wise, afterall you can not expect me being aged 4 or 5 competing with my cousins who were of 14-15 that time! I can't recall getting any prizes though, but my brothers and sisters usually were with handful of them. I must had missed the family gathering and feel this was AWESOME! #2 : Learnt while playing They say playing is one way of learning. I even don't know when I started playing outdoor. We loved to play almost every-time. Not only outdoor even we all brothers didn't let go the opportunity to play even in-front of our garage or rooftop of house! While outside we played cricket in winter and football for whole the year, in house experience was not so broad. Mom's cold gaze limited ourselves happy with cricket only...oh no wait I can remember we once practiced skating for 3-4 months in our dining space, hehehe, you know like whirling along-with the dining table, feels like you will just fall on the ground with your never-stable head? That was so AWESOME! #3: Of friendship, of love of it Hanging around with friends is in my blood. I will do injustice if I don't mention our all-board hanging around with school friends in the school or after the tuition we used to have for class 9 and 10. Some bunches of school going guys with a ready-to-fall heart, mischievous face and eyes with full dreams. We made this as our daily routine to talk about almost anything of the world and once it was started it didn't like to take any break. Last couple of years of school probably another awesomest thing to many of the guys. With a wave of testosterone and teen hormone they become ruthless, the teachers they used to get scared become toothless tigers. Being seniors in merely a high school make them feel like all grown up, matured, making their own rules. Taking break almost in every class, going out to have a round over the school street, eating jhalmuri, taking colored icecream all seem too AWESOME then and also now! #4: Raindrops on my lips made me thirsty Growing up in a small town is a blessing back in Bangladesh. You get the opportunity to be in touch with the nature and again get the fair share of urban flavor. Specially rainy days were something we would cherish for long. Came to school in a bright sunny day and it converted to a water festival were very usual scene. We never mind pulling ourselves in the school ground during the rain and play till it stops, or just a long ride on bicycle while it rained so heavy and for so long. Every bit of the drop gets into your hair, your skin, your lips...making your sweaty day to a complete heaven. gusty water over my face while riding a bi cycle with as much speed as I could, unable to open my eyes in heavy rain, returning home after being drenched all through had been so wonderful! #5: She's got a mango in the garden - shares it with me How many of you really tasted mango? I mean, let me be a little clear, how many of you have plucked the mango from a mango tree while it's still fresh and just got ripe and eat it from the branch? Have you ever felt how it would all like? While you are going through a mango park, you see hundred of thousands mangoes hanging on with the tree, some of them are even lower than of your height, juicy, ripe, turned into yellowish, ready to put in mouth. Surrounded by a magical fragrance of mango you will stretch your hand, hold one of the most riper looking, pull it down. There will be very little fight from tree side, she will just let one of her fruits go away with a stranger. You make a hole with your sharp teeth on the mango, put it into your mouth, taking all the fresh (can it be more fresher!!) juice into your mouth while squeezing vigorously! Being one of the luckiest from my country, I had my days till teenage in a place like this. And not eating a fresh mango just plucked from the tree branch must be a miracle! #6: A fiddling sum of happiness I am a foodie..believe me! My size or weight does not have anything to do with it. I don't eat stuffing my face but I do like to eat my favorite foods so often. I can't forget being regular to one of the most alluring places of my town. The restaurant was a singara specialist. I never have tasted a singara so tasty, so crispy, so melting in mouth all in my life. The cook make it with lots of onion, beef pulse and masala. They used to make it some sort of small in size so that a voracious like me can gobble up 4 to 5 of them in one sitting. It had a flavor I never got in any of the singaras I put my mouth on, neither the chatni (a side pickle kind of thing to eat it with singara) they provide. After being tortured for whole 10 to 4 in school, you are hungry like anything and while you are going back to home you see these mystic looking singaras inviting you. How can you not stop by with friends and just satisfy them of their desire to be eaten? So did we, we satisfied the hungry eyes and inviting singaras for quite some years till I get to a city of honking, people, buildings - Dhaka. I have had the chance to eat in almost all the renowned restaurants who makes singara, daal-puri in Dhaka but hey all hands down....I loved the wonders the singara and daal-puri had back in my own town. That was awe---wait---some! Getting a smoking masala tea after that havoc on singara can't be explained further, can it? |
A little heads upThe Blogorama is collection of my daily blog. Whereas category "Things made my life awesome" talks about my past wonderful experiences in an ascending order, "Now in my mind" says the issues I like my opinion on. "Life, in making" is recently started daily log (not so daily!), "Meditation" is something I come back so often, thought that would interest YOU too. Well, that sums it up (almost). Me,A constant dreamer, believe this is not the end of the world and try to make changes in my own life constantly. Life sometimes went hard and strict-my life's choices would determine whether I have taken them as lessons or punishment. My Quote'If you think someone else is the problem and is not letting you do certain things, that implies you perceive yourself a victim. Being victim is letting the person win. If you really want to make a statement: Ignore him. Blogories
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