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I’ve read about 30 pages of ‘Meyebela’ and I am already beginning to understand how dangerous Taslima Nasreen is. From the moment I started reading it, I loved her writing style – she uses simple words and relatable examples to create a very clear picture of her life. She makes insignificant events seem incredibly interesting. She builds up the characters gradually and gives them life with every word. Basically, she is one of those exceptionally talented writers who can imprison readers in their work of art.
She is also extremely ignorant. She makes simple observations about the things around her and comes to conclusion using solely her own opinion. As I was reading the autobiography, I knew something was wrong with it, but I could not place my finger on exactly what was wrong. B cleared the confusion. He said, creativity is great, but when a person can’t distinguish between creativity and reality, that is when the problem begins. In this case, using her own opinion to come to a conclusion may be very creative, but, she lacks factual information about very serious topics to actually deserve to come to a conclusion, thus, overlooking reality. She came from a very problematic family, which can spark a lot of character problems later in life. I was reading her book and subconsciously being very grateful for having such a close-knit, problem free family. Everyone in my family is very mature about life and considers all options before making drastic changes to themselves. So far, no one has made any changes too drastic; although I am sure we contemplated various things, various times. I am very lucky to be around people who consider the greater good before plunging towards immediate satisfaction. I also feel very sorry for her father. He came from a farmer’s family himself, and became a doctor, earned a lot of money after having hardship, and tried to provide the best for his children so that they would be successful in life. His stinginess was very normal, given his background. Yet, his children never appreciated what he did for them. I guess her mother was part of the wrong equation too; she often hid information from him and exemplified that to her children. It seems like they all hid a lot of things from each other and never communicated well. I am very, very glad that we communicate. I have seen so many relationships fall apart because of lack of a few exchange of words. Maybe that was the problem that triggered everything else in her life.
Steve was telling us to be grateful for what we have. I often forget that I have an amazing family, a healthy body and mind (mostly), some very respectable teachers, friends who I can lean on, a great education, more than enough food and water, a warm blanket, wardrobe full of clothes, Sydney’s million dollar sky to witness magnificent views everyday, an above average brain and Islam. Reading over that list again, I realised that this would probably be considered to be a perfect life by many. Then why am I not satisfied? I should be able to use all of those – everything I have to change the world to be a little better. My parents have seen hardship and gave us everything to not be hindered by poverty and lack of support in order to excel. It would be very ungrateful of me to just sit here and waste away my life. I always blame and joke about procrastination but it actually is becoming a real problem, when it should not even exist as a valid problem.
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