A True Story

Bhejar ichhe amar khanik chhilo
khuki-i take ushke onek dilo
alto heshe amar pashe eshe
joler dhara nijer gaye nilo.


Akash tokhon kaal korechhe mukh-i
khuki tobu take dekhei sukhi
bajer alor taal milie heshe
brishti mathay beray chhute khuki.


Tepantorer shei gohine thaay
bhijei kaate amar bikel haay
bataash ka[n]pe megher dhomok shune ...
khukir hashir domok bere jaay.


Meghdebotar mood bhalo nei bujhi
shiler pahar chhilo ki taar pu[n]ji
bhishon bege porte thake tara
shei tufane khukike koi khu[n]ji?


Haat barie dhorte take gele
chomke uthe dey she amay thele
amra dujon chhutte thaki dure
pipul gachh ek jethay bahu mele.


Gachher niche khunno mone boshe
khukir chokhe osru pore khoshe
besh to chhilo joler sathe khela
bigre gelo sob-i jhorer doshe.


Thamlo sheshe jhorer matamati
hawar sathe gachher hatahati
tepantore shiler jhikimiki
khuki amar she udbhasher sathi.


Ami kintu nipaat sorol mone
shudhiechhilam, "Shil kurate jabe?"
khuki bhablo ki ta ke ba jane
mukh pheralo bhishon osodbhabe.

...

Shilgulo shob jol hoyechhe gole
khukio gechhe nijer pothe chole
ami-i shudhu ekla bheja mone
osru shishir meshai megher jole.

Lula Himu goes to Tajindong

We know we might get shot (like the last time when we were coming back from Rooma). We know one or all of us might break a leg (like the last time Putul Apa got her ankle fractured). We know we might get terrible attacks of Malaria (like the last time I had :( ...). We know we might have to trudge through the gorges at the dead of the night (like the last time all of us did, from dawn to dawn).

Still we freaks are going back to the hills, our "Nona Meyemanush" ...

Let me check my rücksack.

1. Camera, Lens, Battery, Filter, Films
2. Candles
3. Chalk
4. Jungle-boot
5. Knife
6. Matches
7. Medical Kit [Anticeptic, cotton gauge, bandaid, paracetamol, flagyl, MOOV, ORS]
8. Mosquito Net and repelants
9. Paper & pencil
10. Climbing chords
11. Shawls
12. Sweater
13. Spectacles (spair)
14. Toilet Paper
15. Soap, Toothbrush, toothpaste, towel, antiburn, deo
16. Torch, battery, bulb
17. Water bottle
18. Purifiers
19. Whistle
20. Dry Food
21. Slacks and Sleeved Shirts

What have I left out?

Paradise Lost

Electricians are usually tacit. They work like a dumb devil, saying nothing, uttering almost nothing (only if your ears are strong enough to catch the swears under their breath), and doing their job quickly. I forgot his name, the only exception to this observation.

That guy always swore, like a drunken sailor, and he would always apologize. "This fucking whory cables just won't work ... oh, pardon me Chhoto Bhai ... I'm just an illiterate asshole ... manners I do miss ... and what the hell full of pubic hair is this bloody fuse doing here, getting all burnt? You're fucking with the electricity, Mr. Fuse? ... Oh, a thousand apology Chhoto Bhai ... why don't you go and play along ... rather than listening to my bad language and giggle?" He went on and on. Always talking, and swearing, and lingering.

My mother had visible repulsion regarding him, she would rather fix our electric connections herself if she could manage, and obviously it was that guy who would eventually show up if anything went wrong. And some language he fostered.

Anyway, all I want to say, one day I saw him, walking fast past me, with some awefully red hibiscus in his firm grip, looking very absent-minded ... and he almost screeched to a halt when he saw me stairing at him. I gave him an inquisitive glare, and he nervously brought his hands back from his behind. No need to be ashamed, every guy has the damned right to carry flowers.

I, being a kid back then, decided to embarass him a bit more, and asked, "Who are those reddies for?"

That electrician, producing one of the best loving smile I've seen so far, said, "For the lady in the house."

He didn't wait for my second question, and cantered along, flowers in hand, and obviously, with great love hidden in his chest. Hibiscus was not very easy to collect.

And I admit, I never could express my passion with that much intensity. I lost it somewhere on my way.

Could we, at least, try?

Hey guys n gals ... this idea just popped up in my mind, and I couldn't find another spot to share this with you.

Almost all of us now have a digital camera ... and no wonder we shoot a lot. Could we shoot regularly on a common theme, "My Dhaka"? Dhaka has been evolving for the past few years quite exponentially, and I believe this huge series (it would be huge if some of us could stick to shooting for a long time) would turn out to be an extremely remarkable one ... Evolution 0f a City, I mean!

Please let me know if you're interested. You know my mail address.

Books I've been reading these days

Well, couldn't read much these days ... I have been busier than the devil, I guess ... usually I ALWAYS read something before falling asleep ... that's a habit I've developped over twenty years, with rare exceptions when I go on some excursion.

PREY by Michael Crichton and DA VINCI CODE by Dan Brown are the two that consumed me in september. I had literally crawled through the books, inching along every night ... but I must say, it felt good reading thrillers after a long time.

Da Vinci Code was more engulfing, since I have immense interest in theology, and the early days of christianity has become the focus of my attention ... I read some about the early days of Islam (and frankly speaking, they are mindblowing), and I have a good mind to spend some "busy nights" coming ahead. I remember Mursalin being very much carried away by the thriller ... no wonder why. While reading DVC, the coded poems of "Royal Bengal Rahasya" popped up in my mind, Satyajit Roy would never lose his charm to me.

Anyone have a good marvel up the sleeves to suggest? Let me know.

Kakistocracy

That's the word I was looking for.