New Blog

Recently, I am feeling the need of writing more about Islam, due to various reasons:

- I am coming across people who are probably in some situation that I have been in the past, yet, they are not receiving any guide about the 'yes's and 'no's of handling those situations. For example, if you are a born-muslim, yet you want to revive the religion within yourself, you may wonder where to start. Do you start reading what the intellectuals have to say? Do you google Islam and memorise the first bit of information you get? Do you focus on your spiritual being and retire to some deserted mountain?

- I have been suggested to write about Islam.

- Knowledge is lost if it is not passed on. Therefore, I will make an honest effort of passing on that knowledge, without being 'in your face' about it. If you want it, take it; if you do not, leave it.

Here is my new blog - Secret of Worship. Of course, I will keep writing here, but this blog will always be the witness of my ups and downs, while the other blog will witness advice.

A word of caution - my writings will focus on Muslim readers, simply because I will be assuming that my readers already know a the jargons. If you are not familiar with them, just leave a comment, and I shall explain! 

P.S: Its really late now, and I rushed my first post. A lot. (Its only five sentences.) But keep checking it/follow it to see my writing improve to your liking!

Memory - 12.12.2010

The minutes crawl by ever so slowly

When in imprisonment from the world

In this bubble, we scream internally 

Smile outwardly

Baring teeth at the second hand of that clock tower

We drift away

To the world experienced in clouds...

If I can remember correctly, I have been on eleven planes in my life. However, this time, it feels like I am experiencing the feeling of flying over clouds for the first time. I love the way bits and pieces of them form shapes with their shadows on the brown land miles below. Sunlight illuminates the whole world except for the spaces beneath these clouds. They form shadows of a heart, a butterfly; sometimes, they join to become a dragon, flaming with a passion for beauty. Sleep weighs down on my heavy eyes which were wide awake when darkness covered the earth. My head continues to hurt in a rage, to protest against the very minimum contact with any sort of sleep in the past few days. They next thing I know, we have risen beyond lands, clouds and anything that remotely resemble the world. The blue sky was beneath our feet, grey clouds ran above us. It took me a good five minutes of baffled thoughts to realise that we were actually travelling above the ocean now. Those shadows still lingered, they have only changed from brown into blue bodies. Some clouds sat with half of themselves above soil, half above the aqua water. My eyes dozed off again, only to wake up to a world of white. We were inside a cloud. 

My amazing grandmother

I've been talking to Nanu a lot lately. I always knew her to be a practical woman, expert at handling her home but not very interested in anything intellectual, creative or romantic. I knew that Nanabhai was all of that, he drew sketches of famous people for his children, played badminton and chess with them, wrote more than 30 pages of letters to his wife, wrote poetry, read thousands of books. His eyes had the twinkle of an open world in it. Nanu was always busy with bringing up her twelve children. But yesterday, I heard the story of their wedding. When she was fifteen, she submitted a poem to the children's section in the newspaper Azad, a very famous newspaper in all of Bangla at that time. This was in 1945, when India, Pakistan and Bangladesh was one nation. Nanabhai was looking for an educated young girl, something that was hard to find at that time. He heard about Nanu's father, who was among the only two people holding a masters degree in his village and around (the other was his brother!). When Nanabhai saw that poem, he was a little more attracted to her. Nanu was not conventionally beautiful because she's dark-skinned. Nanabhai was very light-skinned, hence, 'very handsome'. His family went to see Nanu and was very impressed by her father and the food they ate. They left a photo of her fiance with her parents, which she secretly looked at. (Apparently, my mother never knew half of the things she told me that day, including this. She was telling her with a mock worry in her voice - why are you telling an unmarried girl about this? :P) Nanu was smiling dreamily as she told her about her then-fiance. He saw a few other girls with the intention of marriage, but none of them succeeded. One of them liked music, the other had a twin (lol). Nanu won over his heart even though the other competitors were much more beautiful, she told us with a shy smile. She got married when she was 16. She still writes in a little diary about every little thing that happens every day. She was telling me about her interest in studies, and how she could no longer attend school when the world war started. In 1942, she left her school in the area where her father worked, far from home, and went to live at home. That area used to be raided with bombs at that time. She was in grade 6, and she still remembers a little bit of an english poem she learnt - called 'Anger'. She recited without hesitation - 'Oh anger, it is an evil thing/ It spoils the fairest faces/ It comes like a rainy cloud/ Over sunny places'. (Or something like that... I think I got the last line wrong). She learnt it without knowing what it means (I know this because she asked me what it means) and yet she still remembers it!

I'll be home in a few days!

20.01

The wedding hype has died down a little in the last four days. The sleepless nights were made up by sleeping nearly all day for the past two days. My mother thinks I am competing in sleeping with cousin S, who's well-known for this skill. Her eight-year-old brother cut his big toe on glass one fine evening and caused a lot of chaos. He was screaming and crying like there is no tomorrow, making everyone else think that there is really no tomorrow! While the whole house ran around frantically, S slept peacefully without hearing a thing. She is that amazing of a sleeper! We have a theory that even if the whole house was about to burn down, she would just wrap her blanket around a little more tightly and fall asleep again.

I had a lot of fun here, yet, I cannot wait to get back home! I really don't know when I'll see these people again. But I realised how dependant I am on my own things and my own life in these past few weeks. I need to take those personality tests again, just to see if I have become and extreme anti-social and selfish person. But one great thing is, I have recently been told that I can talk to strangers very easily. (Actually, on second thought, that is quite worrying!) I have also been told I can fake-real-smile, ie: Smiling when I don't feel happy, yet, manage to look happy. Again, not sure if its a good thing.

On a happy note :)

Here I am, sipping on tea lazily while most of my jobs are done by others. This is one thing I love about being here - most people expect you to do nothing. Yesterday, my day was spent behind eating a few guavas, sleeping (a lot), shopping and a tiny drama. When we came back home around maghrib, we found my dad frantically looking for his watch. My mother could have sworn she saw it on the bed side table before leaving, yet, it was no where to be found. The girl, T, who works in this house is deaf and dumb, therefore, she neither could explain herself nor defend. There had been one incident with her very recently, which led certain people at home to suspect that she might have something to do with it. Anyway, we didn't really do anything except to ask her to look for it. She spent a whole ten minutes crying. The watch was found later under the sofa, which wasn't supposed to be there, because my dad didn't wear it after leaving it on the bed side table. I'm thinking T must've put it there for her father. She always talks (with her hands) about him, and how much she misses him. Mami told me that she is his favourite daughter and very, very loved back at home. We all like her - she's usually a friendly, reliable girl. But poverty really does get to people. If you always see someone else's father using something your father will never have the chance to use, yet, you love him the same way that someone else loves her father, and he is just as good a person as that other guy, why would not he deserve what the other man deserves? Anyway, I'm just glad that 'tis all over!

I also tried to do a henna design on my hand yesterday. It not only looks horrible, but it has also gone quite dark even though I haven't even left it on for five minutes. The wedding is on Sunday, today is Wednesday. I really do hope it goes by then, but it is showing no sign of fading. Usually, when I need it to do so, my henna takes ages to get dark!

Its Sabit's birthday today. This eight year old kid is amazing. He is talented in many things, like, building 'leptops' out of video covers, being a smart mouth, knowing how to be loved by me, and copying WWE and a certain monster called 'Miz' whom he calls 'Mij'. Yet, he cannot keep track of his birthday. Mami got him a Rabbit yesterday because he's been wanting one for weeks. His obsession with rabbits stemmed from the rabbit that another of my cousins got a few weeks ago. I shall post up photos when I take one. But I'll leave you with the talent of my other cousin, one of Sabit's sister. I told her to draw me, and she drew some glamorous bangla cinema actress minus the fat cells. Everyone who sees it says that it looks nothing like me, which I guess is very offending because the girl in the drawing is very pretty, but it also makes it okay to publish on a public blog. :)

10.01.11

Sunlight streamed through balcony grills as a little girl sang against a tune played on the harmonium. A crow is calling out in the distance. I'm sitting here, in Dhaka. Waiting to get back to home, yet, looking forward to the new beginning. The hint of excitement is filling the city air, along with the load of worries emanating from the groom's mother's face. Everyone is together, yet busy in their own affairs. In the last few days, I have realised how different I am from the people here. I really cannot relate to them any more. The teens are busy in hiding things from their parents, the parents are busy thinking that they are perfect. Everyone believes that everyone else has secret business unknown to others. (To be politically completely correct, it must be made clear that I do not mean every single person in Dhaka, just certain people I am around). Religion is just a culture, a laughing stalk, not a way of life to the young. The elders believe its something that 'must be followed' without the need of contemplation. Every word that comes out of your mouth must be watched so that someone else doesn't think wrongly of you. Also, you are supposed to analyse every word of everyone else. If they say 'no' to food, it actually means 'yes'.

My life was so different on this day, two years ago. I feel like I have aged, forwards or backwards, I do not know. I am just looking forward to living life one day at a time, instead of ten years at a time. This very place seemed so close to heart! Now I am counting down the days of my return to home. When I see people of my blood, I do feel that attraction - the love for family. But when I see the injustice that they are doing to themselves, the corruption that they are living in, I wish to remove myself far from them.

P.S: Today must have been the longest time that I have had on the net in Bangladesh!
P.P.S: I really lack creativity in my titles. :(

!

I realised with a sudden jolt that I've forgotten how to dream about the distant future.

Relationships

In the past few weeks, I have seen the relationship between two people get from that of enemies to something that's completely in the opposite direction. So much so that it is becoming unbearable to remain anywhere near them without feeling sick. It feels like I have seen it all before. I have seen how the story goes and it does not have a happy ending. Then why is it repeated over and over again? Why are we stupid enough to want to try everything ourselves and refuse to learn from other people's mistakes? One decision can lead to a mistake that would be regretted for the rest of a person's life. Why do people keep making stupid decisions? (I don't know who I am to speak about this, I made a thousand stupid decisions myself. I wish life was easier.)

I am watching another new relationship forming. It is still in the process, and both parties are probably very nervous. I wish both of them a lifetime of happiness that would extend in the next world.

3/1

Things I've done in Bangladesh so far:
- Seen most of my family on my mother's side.
- Been to places by myself. :) (Not far though...)
- Have grown some sort of direction sense of places in Dhaka.
- Eaten most of the things I've wanted to eat.
- Spent a memorable 31st.

Sabit er chillapallay kan jhalapala hoe jacche. I'm off.

31/12

Today is the last day of this year. I am at Sara's place, typing up something for my mother, thinking, blogging, listening to a song. 'Give me some sunshine, give me some rain, give me another chance - I want to grow up once again.' Its a song from 3 Idiots. I absolutely loved that movie! I'm missing home. I miss my bed, my blanket, my windows, my internet, my comfort zone. I'm losing my patience - I've already snapped at people a lot more than a few times in the past few days. Only 23 more days to go!

I went to New Market with three of my cousins yesterday. All of us were very surprised that we were allowed to go all by ourselves. One of them happens to be half-Irish, hence, (according to the adults) she's vulnerable to everything in Bangladesh. We lazed around and bought a few things we wanted. Then we went to Dhaka University - my former home! S.M. Hall has changed so much! Its much more neat and clean, and its a different colour. The tree that I used to stand under and wait for my school transport has lost a lot of its leaves. The white building that had only started to be built nine years ago now stands proudly.

I have a terrible stomach ache. Its probably because of all the medicine I'm taking because of my cold.

Also - I hope you all have the perfect ending for a year! :)

Rushed thoughts in slow connection

Certain roads in Bangladesh feel like long and winding wooden roller-coasters. My mother commanded me to sit tight, unless I want every single muscle to come loose from my body. It is quite a hassle, except when you are squashed between two others in a rickety CNG. All of you would go up and down simultaneously and safely. I haven't yet seen little girls and boys selling fresh flowers or necklaces made out of them. I remember seeing them all the time, and wanting to buy something from them every time. This time, my problem is, I am not carrying any money with me. If I need something, I ask my dear parents. I don't even have 2 taka notes to give to beggars. But I am slightly skeptical about these beggars (this skepticism might've increased after watching Slumdog Millionaire...), although aged ones are different. Alhamdulillah, I am such a lucky girl! I have a great family who love each other. I have the opportunity to get a good quality of education in the subject that I would like, without having to worry about running a family. I have independence, yet guidance. Ample amount of clothes and food. Alhamdulillah. I have never thought about certain member of my extended family as much as I am doing now. I guess I never knew them, or even wanted to. NK's family has a lot of talent and dreams. KB loves his birds. He knows a lot about them, as well as other animals. His study table has piles of books on how to take care of them. Every time he talks about his fifty-something budgies, his eyes light up like I have never seen before. He helped a cow give birth once. He would've made a great vet. But unfortunately, because of the rigid education system, he cannot change his course now. If he wants to change his subject now, I would have to go back to year 9. He is twenty six years old. He has a great voice for singing too. I gave him the best poem I have written to put a tune to it, and I think he is on his way to a masterpiece! I wish I could do something for them.


Right now, my seven year old cousin is playing wrestling with a huge pillow on his parent's bed behind me. His obsession of violence scares me. He can vividly describe how the undertakers (yes, I know a little something about wresting now!) enter the place, which involves dark places, water, screaming etc. His day involves watching cartoons, playing computer games, watching wrestling and wrestling with anything and everything around him. But I cannot deny that he is creative. He took a random video cover and made it his laptop. He also has a webcam, mouse and other things made out of random household objects.

I have a runny nose, a bad cough (which kept me awake until very late last night and led me to vomit, and then kept me awake a little more), and I do not quite know what I want to do. If I put on warm clothes, I start to sweat. If I take off my sweater, I feel cold. Anyway, although it has decreased my full potential of enjoyment, it hasn't eradicated it completely. I love the sunlight in Bangladesh. I don't know why, but I think its softer (possibly because of the layers of pollution!). I love the way it falls on the broken buildings, dusty leaves and roads. The afternoons are slow, yet restless.

Anyways, I must leave now. Photos shall be uploaded later. The net is very slow here! (alhamdulillah for mine!) But here's one I took in nanubari (my cousin kept some of the photos, this is one of them. I am too lazy to get the chord and upload the exact photos I want right now). The sunlight is much better in real life. :)

Blogging from Bongland!

Its only been five days that I have returned to my motherland for a visit, yet it feels like a month! Mainly because I only took a day to recover from jetlag, already had two bunches of 5-taka amras (lost in turmeric, salt, chili) from the road, had one and a quarter packets of those chips in green packs from my childhood, got bitten by a huge ant, completely destroyed my skin and hair... etc. I can list a thousand things I have enjoyed for the past few days if needed, but I cannot be bothered. (I can also list the few hundreds of things that got on my nerve, but they are better left unsaid. :] )

I already took nearly a thousand photos! Most of them shall be uploaded in time. I have a slight sore throat. I'm in nanubari now. I had the opportunity to experience one sunrise and two sunsets. To rest my eyes on endless green and the the calm river. To ride a boat with a funny majhi, along with some new friends I made. To go on night walks.

I'm looking forward to the massages I'm hoping to get today - head, neck, shoulder. Aaahhh! :D

Till all my sleeves are stained red

The happiest person alive is the luckiest person. Even if they haven't eaten for two days, or ever slept on a soft bed. Even if they have never seen the ocean, or walked on soft sand. Even if they do not recognise the letters that could help them record their beautiful thoughts. Funnily enough, happiness and contentment depend on each other - If you feel like you are the luckiest person in the world, you will feel like no one can be happier than you. Also, the happiest person alive is the luckiest person.

My personal experience tells me that I am the happiest when I turn to my Creator. When I surrender myself completely, feeling insignificant compared to his vast world, yet, feeling safe, because I am completely sure He will take care of me. I can feel my life fall apart - can feel my happiness tear away - when I go further and further from Him. When you believe, mistakes aren't what push you away. Mistakes give you a chance to turn back towards Him, which brings you closer. But, when you deliberately stay away, you push yourself away from Him faster than anything. The void inside you becomes greater and greater, until there is nothing humane in your heart. Until your essence lacks even scrapes of emotion or intellect. 

Deep down, you know that all the fake glamour that you smear in, all the attempts of smothering the emptiness are temporary. Superheros don't exist. Lust doesn't last. Beating hearts will stop, eventually. And you wonder why your brain refuses to cooperate with your vulnerable heart.

He had dreams beyond his border

I discovered K'naan only  a few days ago, possibly because I was one of the very few people who did not catch the World Cup fever. Now that I finally have heard him, his songs are making a lot of my past favourites seem worthless now. There is so much passion in his voice and words, its almost poetry in a tune! I have never thought I would say this about a rapper of our time - but he melts my heart. He sings of freedom, or trying to fight for freedom, dreaming, or about lost dreams. He sings about love, without lust. (Okay, he is not perfect, I do hate some of his songs because they just sound like he's screaming, but we can ignore those for arguments sake.) I was introduced him with Fatima, a song about a little boy who loves his neighbour's daughter, who is killed by the military. I like this version the best, because you can see his passion in his half-closed eyes. Somewhere in the middle, I saw the corner of his eyes glistening. 


Picture the morning, taste and devour,
we rise early, pace up the hour
Streets is rustling, hustling they heart out
you can't have the sweet with no sour

Spices, herbs, sweets and the flour
she came out precisely the hour
Clouds disappear, the sun shows the power
no chance of a probably shower

I feel in love with my neighbor's daughter
I wanted to protect and support her
Nevermind, I'm just 12 and a quarter
I had dreams beyond our border


...


If beauty was in the eyes of the beholder,
How come everyone hushed when she walked by?
How comes girls would look just to scold her?
How come angels wanted to hold her?
Fatima, Fatima, I'm in America,
I make rhymes and I make them delicate,
You would have liked the parks in Connecticut,
You would have said I'm working to hard again.

Damn you shooter, damn you the building,
Whose walls hid the blood she was spillin'?
Damn you country, so good at killin',
damn you feelin' for persevering.


Most people know him from Waving Flag, a love song to Africa. It immediately pumps up your heart and makes you want to go out and experience the world! I can relate to it too, because a lot of it, most of it, relates to Bangladesh. It relates to the general people in the streets, the people who suffer the most out of the trouble the people at the top cause to fight for the name and money. The country that fought so hard to be free was ranked to be the most corrupted nation in the whole wide world for three whole years this decade! Its ranked 39th now, so I guess those people with filthy hearts are relaxing a little. This is one of the reasons why I do not want to go back, because their politics is a little less messed up than only 38 other countries. I am at a position where I can do nothing about it to fix it, so my brain tells me its better to stay as far away as possible from it. But, recently, I came across this charity group called CommunityAction. They were formed two years ago on the 16th of December, on the day Bangladesh became an independent nation. They have already done incredibly well for a few people with young blood. One of the things they have done is that they built libraries - eight of them - for people who usually would not have access to books. They have trained people about fire safety hazards, something that the (insert-whatever-negative-adjective-you're-thinking-about-in-your-head-here) government failed to think of before pouring millions of Takas in changing the name of the airport!

You want the sunrise to go back to bed

After mentioning it to Ak, I looked it up on Wikipedia (i.e.: the source of all knowledge). It is a term coined by Elliott Jaques in 1965. I've also learnt this:

Individuals experiencing it have some of these feelings:
- search of an undefined dream or goal
- a deep sense of remorse for goals not accomplished
- desire to achieve a feeling of youthfulness
- need to spend more time alone or with certain peers

and

It could be caused by aging itself, or aging in combination with changes, problems, or regrets over:
- work or career (or lack thereof)
- spousal relationships (or lack thereof)
- maturation of children (or lack of children)
- aging or death of parents
- physical changes associated with aging

And after a quick skim through, I am officially concluding that I am undergoing midlife crisis. The undefined dream or goal is still undefined, as my last few posts make clear. The forced goals are not being accomplished either. As Ak and many others pointed out, my last few profile pictures of Facebook have been of my childhood years, which means that I do have a deep-set desire to feel younger. Lastly, my last post clearly screams out how pathetic my life is right now, since all I am doing is watch movies by myself (a few with friends, but yes, mostly in solitude). 

And from the next list, lets see - I do have a lack of:

- a career

- a spousal relationship

- children

My parents are ageing (gracefully, so this doesn't count). And of course, I am ageing too, not so gracefully. I.e.: I am getting older, yet, people still tell me I look fifteen-ish. When I dress up, I look seventeen. People! I'm nineteen!!

Or maybe its my deep-set desire to be older? Which doesn't make sense...

Anyway, lets return to sanity. I woke up this morning and smelled rain. It was raining outside, everywhere. The huge tree outside our house was drenched, the green leaves looked more luscious than ever. My blind was all the way up from the night before, so the only barrier between the rain and I was clear glass, and fly net, which does not really hinder the beauty. 

I'm going to a wedding this Friday! The hen's night and henna party was great. One of the games in the hen's night was a blindfold-makeup game. One person is blindfolded and supplied with a range of makeup, which she needs to put on the other person sitting in front of her. The rest of the girls would just stand around, yell out directions, and laugh. The bride-to-be did exceptionally well in applying makeup, blindfolded! The lipstick did not go past the lining of lips, which was a common occurrence amongst the others pairs. We concluded that she has been doing well in Anatomy. She's a doctor. Emu did mine. She drew me a perfect mustache and an Asian beard with the eyeliner. She also gave me perfect clown cheeks. Although it looked very beautiful, thank God it came off before the henna party.

The highlights of the henna party:

- Choosing background music

- Threading those red and white flowers in a hair-thin string (and the many complications that followed)

- Decorating the stage

- Wearing a sari by myself! My sister is usually the one who starts and finishes this perfectly with her expert hands. Although I tried remembering the tips she told me, I don't think they worked. I ended up hobbling everywhere in the highest heels I've worn in my life (scroll up to see the epic heels, which is probably not too epic according to other girls), while trying to smile. MM apu did my make up, and I (legally) stole two white flowers from the bride's bunch of flowers. 

- Playing around with S apu's SLR. It is a delicious feeling! I still love my own camera, but as some jerk once said, 'you can't deny beauty'.

- Other photos

- M apu's game. She made little cheesy snacks with cheesy advices for the bride, inside them.

- Other food.

- Feeding the bride. It feels like one of us is going. Yes, I had a much more abrupt, larger, deeper experience of such a thing nearly two years ago. But, it seemed like it cut open a fresh wound. (Midlife crisis, I tell you!)

- My handiwork of henna on the kids (as seen in the photo). 

Anyway - I have a thousand phone calls to make today. Smru - don't know when you will see this - but I cannot be bothered to travel to the other side of town in this rain. Love you all the same!

P.S: S&S are back from Hajj!

by Gary Jules

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere

Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles its a very, very
Mad world, mad world

Pictures on your screen

Note: This is possibly the biggest and most comprehensive post I have written/will ever write about movies.

I just finished watching Avatar, split between two days. I must say, I have missed out terribly by not watching it on big screen. The storyline and the concepts were amazing, yes, but the settings, colours, music - these are what made this movie so exceptional! The whole new world created by James Cameron inspired a love of fantasy in me. I was never attracted to pure fantasy and always thought SS to be crazy for being so deeply attracted to them. But, now, after Avatar, I think I've began to cross over to the other side! There were moments where I froze in spot and held my breath. About two hours in, I caught myself muttering to myself - 'oh please let there be a happy ending!' over and over again. It definitely has to be one of the best movies I have ever seen (not THE best, THE best will probably be Inception or The Dark Knight).

I loved the idea of the two different worlds. You enter the other world by sleep, you bring out your inner self and you can do much more than you can with your real world and real life. Its colourful, filled with dreams and beauty. After a while, reality and dream merges, reality feels like a dream, and the dream feels real. You wish you could remain in the other world forever. If you haven't watched the movie, I will not spoil it for you and tell you if it is a happy ending or not. If you haven't watched the movie and do not intend to watch it, google the summary. But you are missing out. On a LOT.

I liked the idea of having an 'avatar' for yourself too. Its like a mask you use to communicate with the people around you, who may be very different to who you are. You use their language, you look like them, you act like them, but inside, you are different. Sounds familiar?

There were a bit too much violence for my liking, but I suppose it would have been a great experience in 3D and on large screen. It reminded me of Terminator. (And when I wikied James Cameron five minutes ago, I found out that he wrote and directed Terminator 1 and 2!) But, interestingly, the music used in the movie is very soothing. It reminds me of the soundtrack of Titanic (which is directed by Cameron of course). I love the concept of 'seeing'. When they say 'I see you', it stirs up a tumult of emotions - a sense of contentment, happiness, excitement.

Yes, I am amazed.

Also - when I searched my blog with 'Inception', I was surprised to find that I have not yet posted anything about it. But I had this drafted:

'Inception is easily one of the best movies I have watched - ever. Its filled with truisms entangled in abstract ideas taken literally. The concept of planting a seed of an idea into someone's head is old - its called 'brainwash'. But the amount of detail that was used to convey this concept was utterly amazing. Its almost like an answer to every philosopher's question about reality. How do you know something is real? How do you know you are real? In a disagreement, how do you know you're right? I also loved the idea of being killed to escape dreams. Isn't that what suicide is? An escape from reality to the unknown? When Mal and Kobb put their head against the train tracks and say 'You're waiting for a train, a train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can't be sure.' - I was thinking, is this what suicide feels like? The moment before you die, you don't know absolutely if you are escaping to freedom, but you think you are.'

I guess I love the idea of having a parallel world which is far from reality.

I recently remembered that I have not read a novel that I have not read before, in a very long time. Instead, I have been watching and listening, to things. To say I have been watching a lot of movies for my usual standards would be an understatement - its more than a lot, its more than more than a lot. Here is a list of movies I watched recently:

- 3 Idiots - This movie inspired me to send my lyrics off to Zain Bhikha Studios. And it made me cry a lot. 

- Aisha - It made me write this after I watched it:

'I don't know if it was the constant stomaching of milkshake after milkshake, then some other junk, or the sugary storyline of Aisha - but after three hours, I genuinely felt sick. I really do not know what came over me to allow me to watch it. Emma and Clueless were bad enough, sugary enough, and had enough of matchmaking and 'finding true love'. Why oh WHY did I watch another adoptation of the same storyline? WHY!

Thinking back to all the movies with a love story as a plotline, I think I can see a tad bit of a similiarity between them. They are unrealistic, yet, they give the impression and hope to every foolish girl that something real like that can happen one day. I used to be really romantic once upon a time. With my head in the cloud, I used to truly believe that prince charmings exist in our world. And fortunately, I have seen some pretty cute love stories happen in my life time. H&S - college sweethearts with wild dreams; victims (or heroes) of elopement; currently - happy parents of three talented and beautiful children. S&S - married after two weeks of encounters; people who slowly grew in love; currently - they are bringing out the best in each other. H&G - successful students, yet, cute couple; looking forward to a bright future. M&C - musician and laywer; people with the look of love in their eyes; nervous replies to cute messages left in each other's facebook. 

Except - there is one catch. Those are only eight people, out of the thousands others I know. The right balance - love that would last a lifetime from both sides, and does not hinder either lives, rather, enhances them - is SO hard to find! In fact, some people are stupid enough to waste their whole life trying to find it. And then some others are stupid enough to make movies or music out of them. And then some others are stupid enough to watch or listen to those, and cry, because they are either in the same situation, or have never been in that situation. 

Sometimes, reading over my own posts, I realise, that I contradict myself from one post to another. Mild schizophrenia?

And that was the day that I promised

I'd never sing of love

If it does not exist

Maybe I know, somewhere

Deep in my soul

That love never lasts

And we've got to find other ways

To make it alone

Keep a straight face.'

Current thoughts - I obviously didn't like it.

- I Hate Luv Storys - Funny, not extraordinary though.

- The Bong Connection - I watched it by skipping parts because it was so boring in the middle. All they do is just shout.

- The Last Song - Typical Nicholas Sparks.

- Eat Pray Love - Slightly annoying.

- The Lake House - I liked the idea of communicating with someone who lives two years apart from you through letters, where you can see the letterbox moving. I loved the feeling of frustration in it. I loved the idea that you can change the future if someone warns you of your demise. I wish someone did that for me!

- Daruchinir Dip - Even though its by Humayun Ahmed, against whom I have developed bitter feelings because I realised how influential his novels are, I have to admit, its pretty good. It shows the different sorts of families in Bangladesh and how they deal with their own lives in order to end up in the same place. It was much better than Amar Ache Jol, for which I had high hopes, which got crushed into nothing. I loved the book though.

- Easy A - Mildly funny. Reminded me of Mean Girls, though. I guess it shows how high schools are; an exaggerated version of it.

- (half of) Click

- Valentine's Day - I swear, after watching it, it actually felt like February 14th for a while. Ashton Kutcher is awkward and adorable. Taylor Swift pulls off a good blonde high school girl image. It was sort of cliched, but nice.

- Legally Blonde II - boring. Please do not watch it, its exactly the same as Legally Blonde I (as my friend pointed out at the end of the movie) - probably worse. I don't think my eyes or brain can take in any more of hot pink or tiny dogs. But, of course, Legally Blonde is always mildly chucklable because its so stupid.

- 17 again - I loved this movie. Even though it was a teen flick, it had a great idea behind it. A parent who is stuck in their seventeen year old body, who is able to witness everything that their children get up to, be surprised and shocked at how much he didn't know, yet, isn't able to do anything about it. The feeling of being stuck - the feeling frustration at not being able to say anything - is clear in Zac Efron's eyes. Rekindling of love in the eyes of forty/fifty year old married couples is also amazing.

- Dear John - Also typical Nicholas Sparks. 

And earlier this year:

- Toy Story 3

- Karate Kid

- Despicable Me

- Inception

I really need to start reading again. I might have to re-start with picture books, but whatever it takes, I need to start! I used to love reading. It gives you images in your head that only you can see. You can add or take away anything you want in the characters, because you are building it in the process of reading. I have been reading blogs, or the occasional sunday magazine article, but I know, that does not give nearly the same amount of pleasure as a thick, enjoyable novel, while you are snuggled under your blanket on a rainy day.

Lying under things, poverty, dreams and lists

(Scroll down to the last paragraph if you cbb reading the whole post/ if you are in a hurry/ if you are not bored.)

I woke up for the second time with a single line from Rain in my head: to lie here under you, is all that I could ever do. With that, I lay, lifelessly comfortable, under my beloved. Its soft fur wrapped around me, keeping me safe from the morning breeze. My breathing became heavy from lack on oxygen. A smile spread across my face as I experienced true bliss - being wrapped in my blanket at nine in the morning. In fact, I would love to be under my blanket at any time of the day if I could. But, reality hits me sooner or later. And I realise I must leave.

But if I could, I promise I would lie there under you the whole day, blanket!

Right now, I have exactly $6.02 in my bank account. I am such a bad saver! Its amazing how I managed to turn out to be the exact opposite of my mother. I am disorganised, very bad with my time (I should be doing something useful now) and irresponsible with everything I have. Ma has always been a responsible person. She thinks ahead to about five years in the future before every action and decision - and it usually turns out to be the right one. She was like this when she was nine, nineteen, twenty-nine and so on. She is also very organised, a skilled manager of time and beautiful all at the same time. When I was little, I used to believe that she is the most beautiful woman in the world. I think I stopped believing that for a few years. But, right now, I truly do believe that again. You would think that such a beautiful mother would pass some of it on to her daughter. Sadly, I look nothing like her.

Anyway - back to $6.02. Basically, in the next five days, I need to have my phone bill money sitting in my bank account to be taken away without extra charges. I need to have enough money to go out with friends on Monday. I also need to save up for the looming, yet still-uncertain, Shundorbon trip. Wiki tells me I am supposed to spell Shundorbon as 'Sundarbans'. It also tells me that it is the largest single block of tidal halophytic mangrove forest in the world. For more wiki words, go here. I have seen it in photos and on TV - the beautiful flora attracts me, yes. But what I find more amazing is that I will potentially see a Royal Bengal Tiger, deers, foxes and other animals from up close, that I probably will never have the chance to see so closely again. Since the place is a huge tourist attraction, it also attracts huge amounts of $$. My (pretend) shopping list continues in the following manner:
- A laptop
- Driving lessons
- Driving test
- Ticket to climb the Harbour Bridge
- Ticket to go on a hot air balloon ride
- Ticket to go on a cruise to see whales

As you can see, I dream BIG.

Aniqa, if you ever read this - please know that I have a newfound love of bubbles. I now know how you felt when you blew them sitting in the grass in front of the library. Its a sheer feeling of joy. You feel like you are creating rainbows and mirrors in little spheres of soapy goodness. Yesterday afternoon, I blew half a bottle of cheap bubble mix in our backyard. I tried very hard to take photos while I blew them, or ask (ie: command) my brother to blow bubbles so I can take photos, but I failed to get any sort of result out of both. Nevertheless, I love bubbles a lot more than I did the day before yesterday. They are so beautiful that I have several images in my head. I either want to blow bubbles from/in/on these places or take photos of people blowing bubbles from/in/on these places:
- A huge, open, net-less, grill-less window (our windows have nets in them)
- Top of a mountain
- Green grass under a big tree with flowers

My parents are cleaning out the garage. It is a double garage that is supposed to hold two cars, instead, currently, it holds one car and a whole lot of junk and/or useful things. My mum decided that it should serve its proper purpose. I cut my hand in the process, on a cupboard shelf. I seem to have so many cuts on my hand lately that I can easily be mistaken for an emo child. I only realise that they are there when I am squeezing lemons. I have either turned into a proper bengali woman or I have just become clumsier than usual.

My room smells really nice nowadays, because I have three gandharajes in a tiny cup from New York and a candle that smells like cherry blossom from Osaka. I took some photos of them yesterday, but I haven't transferred them yet. So, enjoy this one that I took from my mum's room a few days ago. If you don't know what a gandharaj flower is, google it. Its supposed to be white, but this flower must have been a few days too old!

If you have survived until now, I have a tiny bit of homework for you. I want to know why you read my blog. I figured that I actually have not achieved much out of blogging here for nearly five and a half years other than create some good stalking material. It helps me unravel, yes, it helps me articulate my thoughts, yes, sometimes, it helps me get a point across that I would not have gotten across in any other way (in my opinion). But those are reasons why I write here; I want to know why you read me. You can leave anonymous comments if you want your identity to be hidden, or you do not know how else to leave comments. Here are some suggestions:

a) Its entertaining.

b) It gives you great information to stalk me. (lol. Actually, I have been very careful to not give out enough information about me to trace me. Fail.)

c) It helps you understand me. 

d) It helps you understand yourself.

e) It helps you understand the world.

f) It teaches you to appreciate your life because mine is so pathetic and/or amazing.

g) It shows you a different point of view to things.

h) You like my bad poetry/songs.

i) You like my photos.

j) Its educational.

k) Anything else.

You can write an essay if you want; you can write two words if it suits you. But PLEASE leave a comment. 

P.S: I know my titles are horrible. 

P.P.S: I was going to write a little bit more, about Taylor Swift, my lack of reading and my excessive consumption of movies, but I figured this post is too long and no one would probably get to the end to actually do the homework.

All the world is waiting for the sun.

Its a windy morning. Windy, cloudy, cold, gray, lazy morning. I have a thousand things to attend to, which I eventually will, hopefully. Right now, I'm listening to a beautifully talented woman that Sum introduced me to. She sings acapella covers of songs with meaningful lyrics - newbegining212. Her voice is amazing, even though sometimes the acapella sound effects are slightly weird. I especially love her cover of The Call, Drops of Jupiter, Diary of Jane and Rain. But I haven't heard everything she sang, so I can't quite pick out the best ones yet. B told me about another YouTube sensation/talent - communitychannel. I just realised that she even has her own wiki page! Natalie Tran - a funny, famous, yet down-to-earth vlogger from my hometown - talks about trivial things like how Milo does not dissolve even after stirring several times. She is the most famous YouTuber in Australia! Another lovable procrastinator is the author of Hyperbole and a Half. I'm not sure if I've spoken about her before, but, she often seems to know parts of my life very clearly. Especially in this post, she pretty much mapped out how my mind works.

'Rain, rain, go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.'

(Except me.)

p.s: Here's Rain by Creed by newbeginning212. I like its lyrics, especially these: 'Trapped between the truth and the consequence, nothing's real, nothing's making sense.' It describes limbo - a place I'm often stuck in.

(Not now.)

13/11

As cliched as it may sound, I have recently realised that - every single person is different. You cannot 'expect' anything of anyone, because you can never 'know' a person. You just have to accept them as they are and work on your own self. Very few truths are absolute truths, everything else is just one of many. Everyone has a reason for every action that they do. Just because it does not make sense to you, does not mean the reason was not valid.

MM had something on google buzz and in her facebook status that I really liked.

'People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway. If you find happiness, people may be jealous.Be happy anyway. The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway. For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.'


Eat Pray Love was mostly a waste of time. Except for one thing - the concept of balance. I guess we all crave for peace and balance in our lives in one way or another. For good reasons too - no matter how much you give yourself away to your work, to the environment, to poverty, to your country, to your family, at the end of the day, if you do not achieve peace through these, you don't feel like its worth it.


Ok - this post has been written in bits and pieces for the last 4 hours or so. I think I should leave before I completely lose every train of thought.