Rant #1

Every time I listen to Beatles’ ‘Across the Universe’, my brain changes the words. Instead of ‘words are flying out like endless rain into a paper cup’, I hear, ‘words are flowing out like rain into the paper cups of pain.’ Mine sounds quite good, so I haven’t tried to change it in my brain.

Right now, I feel an excruciating wave of anger shooting up my body. The reason is quite simple – I feel like I am not given the freedom I deserve. This anger is annoying, because it won’t go away and it can’t be helped either. How many times have I tried to argue my way out of restrictions? It never works. Instead, more restrictions are put on me! I don’t understand why something Halaal should be made Haraam. Isn’t that a sin? Why should culture hinder us from practising Islam? Islam is above all and nothing comes before it. I thought they understood it, but why are they holding back because of the culture?

I love both of them. I don’t see why there should be a difference between them. I don’t see why one should be looked down upon, not approved, and the other idealised. They can’t even explain the reason to me properly, which means they don’t have a proper reason. Its unfair! And ok. Fine. Don’t let me hang around that person. Why can’t the other fill up the space? Both of them together make an amazing pair. If both of them were one person, I think I’d love and respect that person so much more. But since that person is unable to fill up the place of the other, I think I have a right to spend time with both of them.

I wish they would all stop being confused. I wish I would stop being confused. I wish we could all be completely truthful, with ourselves, Allah, and with everyone around us.

I love all four of them. But each of them have their deficiencies and sometimes its hard to put up with it. I think the most important quality in a person is honesty and openness. I don’t have any of them. But I think a person with those qualities can change that in me. I’m trying to be more honest with myself. I still have to work on it. I still try to convince myself of something, even if I know its not right. I should not be ashamed to ask people who know more than me. I know I can’t judge everything myself. I don’t have the maturity or the knowledge to do so.

Nowadays, I just feel like saying whatever and waving everything away.

Loose lips might sink ships but loose kisses take trips. So if I wanna kill myself, should I remember that you love me? If I call you up, can we make some plans instead? I will ask you what you think because your thoughts and words are powerful.

But I still love hugging, singing, screaming, kissing, tugging on the sleeve of how it used to be!

We went to see Tania apu when we went to Bangladesh. Since the last time we saw her, she got married. Her father aka my dad’s youngest brother passed away. She started teaching in a primary school. She’s a bit younger than my brother and a bit older than my sister. Now, she’s six months pregnant and looks ten times more beautiful. The girl who used to frown at me for not listening to her during long hours of Ludo, the girl who took me around our village, showing me off as ‘the cousin who came from Dhaka’, whose red eyes I used to be immensely scared of, hugged me very tightly and cried when we left her husband’s house.

Faria apu started wearing a hijab. Sarah stopped wearing it. The one I remember as a seven year old pouting girl, gets calls from ten different guys in one day. Shifa is transforming from being a child to a girl. She’s naturally talented in dancing and singing and her olive skin seems to look more beautiful each day. Mami is very, very worried about that girl!

Tahmid is going to be an understanding, responsible and overall, an amazing man. Eshon’s existence was negligible in my world before, but he became part of the group. Nusaiba seems like she’d grow up to be me – confused. Since the last time I saw choto mami, which was the first time I remember talking to her, Shahrin came into existence and is already three. Two new bhabis entered the family. Shahana apu’s oldest son, who I’d always remember as a three year old skinny little boy, is now busy with many jobs around the village and spends the whole day on his bike, in a lungi. Sajid bhayia seemed bigger and scarier. You can tell Sabit will have girls running after him in a few years, even though he’s only six. Rafif is turning out to be as talented and gorgeous as his parents. Zarin is getting shyer every day. Dadu passed away, nanu got older. My sister is no longer an unmarried girl who I can giggle with about silly dreams. I will be doing my HSC in seven months and deciding writing my own life story, in a separate book, really soon.

No matter how much I scream, nothing’s gonna change my world, everything is changing. This is what I felt about a year ago, when my life seemed to be at the corner of a turning road. A confused girl like me gets even more confused when she faces crossroads and turns.