LIFE AS IT IS

Riding a car when nature's wrath is taking its toll can be ominous - one may fall into debilitating injuries or lose one's life even. But it is an amazing scene to behold when a tornado hits a town. One can fully realise how powerless one is to nature's fury. One can do nothing, nothing at all. Our car was on an interstate highway in Albertville, Minnesota when nature hid us under a grey lid. It was a shade I never beheld before. One could sense the looming tornado's rage from it. A straight white line ran across the sky - it seemed the heaven was waiting to crack open on us. We took the next available exit and parked the car in the compounds of a convenience store that also offered self-service gasoline. It felt safe there, although the sky by then had put on a deeper hue of grey. The sunny afternoon transformed into a menacing moonless night. The downpour began in less than a minute. Stuck inside a car, I looked outside the window. The torrential rain made my sur

“TACKY,” she thought. The foundation color is too light for her skin tone; it makes her look almost like a ghost. “Well, ghost is what I am now, for the mortal me died long, long ago,” Shujata said to herself. She still walks, eats, laughs, weeps and… sleeps with men, which is what she does for a living, but her soul leapt from her battered body 5 years ago. She rummages through her red plastic bag for a lipstick. She has four colours altogether-red, bright red, dark pink and deep magenta. People say that girls like Shujata can attract more men when they wear such garish colours. There had been many days when she wished to wear a light shade of brown, but she never had a chance. She does not have a place to go, a place where she can go and be herself, where she can breathe in fresh air and watch cuckoos fly in the blue sky. The pungent alleys, the filthy men with even filthier insides, the worn-out walls and the impoverished, hopeless women like her are all that she sees every day,

We witnessed blatant rivalries among school friends in the months of June and July. No, they were not participating in any competition, rather their favorite teams were. It was the 2010 FIFA World Cup, which turned our friends into foes. It was one occasion when two close pals did not necessarily support the same team. Arch rivalry sparked among the Brazilian and Argentine supporters. An Argentine fan wrote on his college friend’s Facebook wall about the rage that engulfed him upon learning that his friend, who was once an Argentine fan, is now a die-hard Brazilian supporter. The Argentine fan clearly felt betrayed by his friend - this happens only in football. We witnessed taunting of friends. I remember a friend jeering an Argentine fan, saying “Could you properly digest the ek haali goal (or, the four goals)?” Another friend promised that he would donate money to the poor if his team made it to the finals. Statuses were updated even at the darkest hours of the night. The wor

Imagine being brought up in the filthiest alleys of a red light district, where days begin with lurid screams from drunken men and women. Imagine a childhood where you toiled from dawn to dusk, filled buckets with water, scrubbed dirty pots and pans, and watched your family fight and curse at each other. On some days you carried booze bottles to your mother’s guests, on other days you clasped your ears to shun the sounds that came from a room next door. For most of us, who have lived a secure life, it is difficult to imagine a childhood smeared with obscenity, fear and a lot of anguish. The Daily Star link  July 13, 2010 But there are children out there whose first day into this world marks the beginning of a tormented life. “Born into Brothels” is a bold attempt to bring into light the lives of children growing up in the notorious Sonagachi brothel of Kolkata. Some of the shots are heart-breaking; some of the scenes make you contemplate what it would be like to grow up in an env

It’s a rainy day today. Here I am in a midsized city in Minnesota, sitting on my bed with a laptop, scribbling words to pour out many an emotion that the damp day has aroused. On the roads, cars are whooshing along, splashing the rainwater that collected in puddles. A lone red Chevrolet is standing in our apartment building's parking lot, its windshield dripping drops of the summer rain. The Southwest metro bus just left the street corner. A middle-aged lady is walking down the street - her one hand holding a bag of groceries, the other a yellow umbrella. Gloom is hanging over the whole city. It's a small city and the gloom makes it appear even smaller. Is there a connection between the apparent size of a city and its weather? I believe not. But then why does a city seem bigger and merrier on a sunny day? There is not much difference between the Dhaka skies and skies here in Minnesota. I can only see the differences when I gaze down - the differences become vivid in the mo

The immense satisfaction associated with working for others has driven me to community service. I am not trying to beat my own drums but only sharing the reasons for spending hours behind something that does not have a monetary return. It was the year 1999 and I was in Grade 11. Among numerous student organizations in my high school, there was one called the Education Club. While my close friends chose to join the Debating Club and the Reading Club, I suddenly became eager to join the Education Club, which I heard worked toward educating underprivileged children of the neighborhood. Joining the Education Club was one of those decisions for which I would always thank myself later in my life. I can never forget the love and laughter of the small children I taught for some one-and-a-half years. Every Wednesday was like a pleasure day; almost every Wednesday I would get something from my little students. On many occasions I received flowers, guavas and green mangoes from my students, many

শিরোনাম দেখে অনেকেই হয়তো আগ্রহী হবেন জানতে লেখাটি কি নিয়ে। শিরোনামটি আমার নয়। এটি ২০০৪ সালে নির্মিত অস্কার বিজয়ী একটি প্রামান্য চিত্র। কোলকাতার কুখ্যাত রেড লাইট ডিস্ট্রিক্ট সোনাগাছিতে বেড়ে উঠা শিশুদের উপর নির্মিত এই চলচ্চিত্রটি দেখবার সুযোগ হয়েছিল গতকাল। অনেক দৃশ্যেই চোখের পানি আটকে রাখতে পারিনি। অনবদ্য এই প্রামান্য চিত্রটি তুলে ধরেছে নিষিদ্ধ জগতের বাসিন্দা এমন কিছু শিশুকে, যাদের জীবনের স্বপ্ন প্রতিনিয়ত ভেঙ্গে যায় তাদের জন্ম নেয়া সেই অপরাধ জগতের কষাঘাতে। নিজের শৈশবের কথা বারবার মনে পড়ে গেছে কচি, মানিক, সুচিত্রা, অভিজিৎ, পূজার জীবন কাহিনী দেখতে গিয়ে। মনে হয়েছে আমিও তো জন্মাতে পারতাম একজন সুচিত্রা হয়ে, আর তাহলে পরিচয়হীন শিশু হয়ে সবার কাছ থেকে ঘৃণা কুড়োতে কুড়োতে হয়তো পার করতাম এক জীবন। কিন্তু হায়, এই ঘৃণার পিছনের কাহিনী কয়জন খুঁজে বের করবার চেষ্টা করে? তারাতো খিস্তি করেই সারা। আমেরিকান আলোকচিত্রী জেনা ব্রিস্কি একদল শিশুকে আগ্রহী করে তুলে ফটোগ্রাফীতে। একটা সময় এইসব শিশুদের আলোকচিত্রের প্রদর্শনী হয় নিউ ইয়র্ক এবং কোলকাতায়। শিশুগুলো চলে আসে সংবাদমাধ্যমের শিরোনামে। এরই মাঝে অভিজিৎ সুযোগ পেয়ে য

I don’t remember the first time I read Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice (P&P). But I do remember reading this eighteenth-century novel five times in my life. If I can allow myself some free time in the days to come, I would probably peruse it again, feel deeply once again the finer sentiments scattered in its lines and pages. P&P has always been a pleasure to read – the handsome Mr. Darcy is like a dream. The protagonist Elizabeth was indeed an intelligent, witty and bold woman of her time. But I never had an opportunity to watch TV or film adaptation of this classic until recently. When I first read on Wikipedia that BBC aired P&P as a serial, I knew I had to watch it. The social networking sites have made things so accessible to the modern day humans that all I had to do was search for it on YouTube. Voila! On YouTube were all the episodes of this magnificent 1995 television adaptation, starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. I spent seven long hours watching the

Rebecca, in her twenties, was beautiful enough to turn heads. Today, very little of it is left in her. Her jet-black hair has lost its volume, her complexion its lustre and her eyes their glitter. Rebecca who was born and brought up in a respectable family of Dhaka, even today, finds it hard to believe how her marriage to an unfaithful man had shattered all her dreams into bits and pieces. In her short-lived conjugal life of four years, she bore two sons. When she left her husband's house, she left it with her sons, for she knew that without a mother's love these children wouldn't live. At the age of 25, Rebecca began to live the difficult life of a single mother. In the early '80s although words like single mom and divorcee weren't unheard of, people still raised their eyebrows when they heard of women like Rebecca, single and beautiful. Rebecca refused to take refuge at her parents' house, for humiliation engulfed her and her very existence. It was a lov

There was a time when making a piece of furniture meant a huge hassle for the buyer and the manufacturer/ seller as well. Although characterized by stressful tasks, the whole affair of making a piece of new furniture would at the same time flood families with excitement. Some 30 or so years ago, people used to free up their courtyard to facilitate the carpenters do their job at ease. Making furniture mostly meant hiring carpenters and bringing them home for the work. The carpenters were gladly treated with glasses of tea after every one hour. The children would swarm around them with eyes full of eagerness, enjoying the conversion of sturdy chunks of raw wood to skillfully carved bed, table, armchair or cupboard. But those days are long gone, gone are the days when home furnishings used to be bulky and less user-friendly. Today, very few people think of bringing carpenters to home to get their work done. There is no need to shoulder so much of strain when elegant plus affordable ready-

Trambunctious rallies, elaborate spreads, music and poetry, and traditional garb...all work together to make the celebration of the Bengali New Year a truly unique one. The streets are filled with Bangali belles, elegant in their red-and-white saris, flowers in their hair, red alta on their feet, and of course, a rainbow of glass bangles adorning their wrists. This year too, our girls and women are making preparations to welcome the Bengali New Year 1413. Besides purchasing red-white saris, women are crowding places like Gausia Market, New Market, Piraan, Banglar Mela, Mayasir, Jatra, Deshal, Ideas etc to get hold of the latest bangles. The custom of wearing bangles by women is centuries old and the tradition is still going strong thanks to our fashionistas. If you want a little folk saying on bangles then know that gold bangles are believed to herald prosperity and well-being for hubby dearest. Thereby, gold bangles are usually seen on the hands of married women. However a dozen

There was a time when life meant crawling out of bed at 7 a.m. in the morning, getting ready for school, returning home in the afternoon and then dozing off in the evening with books wide open on table. School days are long gone, yet I wake up at 7 a.m. in the morning to catch the early classes of university. But waking up from bed no more entails constant shrieks of my mother, or the ear-splitting blare of the long standing bedside clock. My biological timepiece now seems to work better than the mechanical ones. As time is flying, life is unveiling itself with new a definition. What life meant 10 years back does not mean the same right now. And I know that life will not mean the same 10 years from now. A life is a journey, as you might say. There are ups and downs, you move through boulevards as well as alleys, you taste freedom as well as captivity. We become mature with time. This is possibly the reason why I now fret when the telephone bill skyrockets, when our maid snoozes whil

There was a time when wearing nose pin by women was a custom; every married woman wore one. Nose ornament was considered more than just a trinket, it was believed that every married female should pierce her nose and wear gold to bring good luck for her other half. In many religions, women take off their nose ornaments when their husbands pass away. But those days are long gone; today young and unmarried girls pierce their nose and wear trendy trinkets as a symbol of stylishness. In our day wearing a nose pin is more a craze than a custom. It was during the late 1990s when wearing nose pin emerged as a fashion symbol among teenagers and adolescents of Dhaka. High school goers flocked to beauty salons like Woman's World, La Belle and Persona to have their nose pierced. At one time, piercing nose was a matter of panic for most women. The reason was that the entire process of pricking nose was intensely painful. However, this scenario is not true anymore. Today, you can pierce your

The large portrait doubles the splendor of the modern living room where it hangs. It was taken some 30 years ago…a frozen moment from three decades back that doesn't seem out of place in this fashionable household amongst all the state-of-the-art furnishings. The picture holds the image of a young woman, gorgeously dressed in some brightly colored georgette saree, her hair done exquisitely in a style not seen today. It's a picture similar to the kind that we have in our homes. They reside in our age-old family albums. These albums embrace the youthful days of our mothers and aunts. These were probably taken as long ago as the '60s or the '70s, yet their captivating power is unrivaled. The times that were held still by the clicks of some antiquated camera were different from the times we are currently in. The women in these pictures are clad in sarees. It was a popular style of the '60s to embellish oneself in a saree that firmly clutched its owner. Elaborate rituals