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!