Trouble in Everything

                                                                image:pexels.com

Things just keep disappearing around the house pens, for example. No matter how many of them there used to be-red , blue ones , green ,black ,funky gel ones ,purple ones, sooner or later they all disappear . I never understand this bizarre vanishing act. Where do they go? A pen parallel universe? And why does this keep happening to this particular object? It would be fine if it happened to other unwanted objects all over the place –but that is not to be. What you don’t want stays there, and what you need disappears. Murphy was right-things always go wrong.

But you have to admit, the absence of pens are especially noticeable. When you need them you just need them. And needless to say, when you do, you cannot find a single one in sight. A typical occurrence is when someone calls. I was hoping to get hold of so and –so .She says, I need not say that the call is not for me. So it is my job to play secretary. When she asks in a sweet voice if I can pass on a message, I reply with a reluctant yet ebullient sounding “yes” She says her name is so- and – so , it is very urgent  , and leaves her numbers. She tries to reaffirm, “Do you have this down?” She inquires. Of course, I have not written down any of what she has said because I have neither a piece of paper nor a pen anywhere around. I somehow manage to get hold of a pencil with a very blunt tip and grab it and start writing down the message on the back of the nearest piece of paper which may well be something important. I ask her to repeat what she said as if I just want to reconfirm what I’ve written , when I really intend to just write it for the first time ! I just don’t understand where all the pens go, I really don’t.

But who cares about disappearing pens when there are such bigger problems in life. There are problems like having to go through meals and sleep at the right time, toothaches, backaches, headaches (courtesy of well –wishers at odd hours), nail polish, nail polish remover, the whole nine yards. There are the bigger worries of course, work, marriage, funeral services (since death in inevitable –as known from empirical evidence).There are more important and crucial –to –the –moment problems: when these happen, all others take a backseat. I’m talking about the immediate problem of caramel getting stuck to your teeth , the need to go the toilet when there isn’t one in the vicinity, and the urgent need for a pen when the one you have doesn’t work .Didn’t I just say there were bigger problems than the pen thing? Yes, I don’t make sense .I realise that. There’s trouble in every-thing .The magnitude of trouble does not know of consistency.

Everyone is always in trouble of some form or another. When one problem is solved the next biggest problem takes the hot seat and so on. It is impossible to be totally free, it is impossible to be totally free, it is impossible to find all the pens that you are looking for (just let me try and get my head around this analogy).But it is possible to savour the fleeting moment of pure exhilaration when you cross off priority Number I and are free from one problem even though an infinite number of problems wait beneath it .I’m talking about the joy after removing the sticky caramel from an inaccessible region in your mouth and being happy at that moment even though you still have to pay off a housing loan. Let me tell you a Nasiruddin Hojja joke that always makes me feel really good. A wretched looking man sat with a sack tied to a rope when Nasiruddin walked up to him. Nasiruddin asked the man why he looked so miserable .The man replied that he was extremely poor, and of what he had, just about everything had been stolen and the sack he carried contained his only remaining possessions. He was so unhappy that it was almost as if he had nothing to live for as nothing could every make him happy. After hearing this Nasiruddin picked up the man’s sack, and stared running away with it as fast as he could. The poor man frantically chased after him, pleading him to give it back. After a long chase, Nasiruddin stopped and returned the man his sack. The man, who was in suicidal despair a few minutes age, was now ecstatic at being reunited with his possessions. Nasiruddin smugly said, “This is a way to make someone happy.” just getting it back makes it all so much better.

Conversations in a Coffeehouse

                                                                 image:pexels.com

I enter the shop to be embraced by the aroma of freshly roasted coffee and chocolate. The owner , a youngish man with neck-length brown hair , silver rings on three fingers, dark clothes defining the grunge look, dark clothes defining the grunge look, one born to run a coffee store, strolls out of his office to greet me and my teammates . The interview for my retailing class project launches as Aaron, the owner, ushers my group to sit on the cozy sofas.

Aaron Wallace has been working at coffee station for 4 years. This past October, he purchased the store from a Kuwaiti gentleman who brewed the business. Aaron firmly relies on buying high – quality coffee beans, and does not roast his own, as he thinks it will lower consistence in quality. Aaron believes in value added service, or customer orientation.”[we are] improving every semester,” he mentions with a smile.

From afar, the light- brown, rectangular wood stone shopping centre does not scream out, “Come in!” However, the patio outside coffee station holds metal tables and chairs that encompass a petite and amusing fountain .While inside, the burnt –orange walls, silver and black tables, chairs on centre accompanied by a few sofas on one end, and a diner-like sitting arrangement at the other corner provide an inviting atmosphere. The large metal and wooden counter that encompasses the espresso machine, frozen drink and coffee makers, and the pastry shelf might also help bring in clientele.(so that’s what they do in coffeehouses!).An abundance of train photographs might suggest a childhood fixation gone horribly wrong, but this is simply a homage to the town where the business stands, college station, named after Texas A&M University and the rail station that dragged in the victims, I mean, students, these dual entities overlooked the area a century back, much before the eccentric cappuccinos   rolled in.

Aaron, a native of neighbouring town Bryan, declares, “The specialty drink board has helped growth.”These include the cappuccinos described above, cafelattes, and so forth. On the other cup, he expresses that high quality plain coffee is what retains regular customers. He goes further to describe the most expensive coffee beans like Jamaica Mountain Blue, at a whopping $50 /1b.It is often advertised as the “most delicious coffee in the world.”I tried it, and beg to differ. During summers, half the university students leave town and notably divide our young entrepreneur’s client base. Thus, Aaron would like to attract more locals, and has initiated newspaper ads to entice those who do not abandon ship on semester breaks.

The interview ends, but as our project is still roasting, my team frequents coffee station to complete our aromatic journey. Often in team projects, a head of the clan naturally arises, in our case, tall, lean Jennifer sporting reddish brown hair and a striking sparkle in her eyes took the crown with her effervescent, coordinative nature. Liz and Melanie, lean blondes with a “go –get-em “attitude served as the backbone of our task force with their ever-ready insights and analyses. During breaks, we went to the patio to greet the spring breeze; the others sipped coffee (what else?) while treated the tongue with Hot chai. Maybe the Indian world for tea is used to capitalize on its burgeoning popularity , and an English world like tea would be too bland , old –fashioned, too…..

British. I wonder if the chai will be another hip trend that the western fashion gurus will toss away like the henna, or temporary tattoo, popularized by Madonna and soon afterward parceled back to mother India. My group gabbed on daily life: Jennifer’s upcoming wedding Liz’s job opportunities, Melanie’s engaging sister/roommate. Often, I felt like chandler from the early days of NBC’S sitcom friends, here I am with three beautiful young ladies in a quaint coffeehouse, and (isn’t this great) I am just their friend!

As the curtain fell on the project, I went for a solo visit to coffee station. From my round seat below, I could see most of the second floor, and the upward sloping black and brown trail that leads the way. The significantly smaller second –story stores scores of scriptures (yes , I do enjoy being annoyingly fancy ).one of the books resting on a table upstairs Stephen king’s insomnia ,caught my eye , I wonder what this novel is doing in a shop that supplies enough caffeine for a fraternity house showing of a French film by Jean Cocteau? (Vain attempt to sound intellectual.)

Coffeehouses are cultural phenomena that have become an integral aspect in American culture. From the prominent Central perk featured in NBC’S friends, to almost every major town holding a mug hours, it is not surprising to see the coffeehouse juggernaut star bucks earning $1 billion in merely 4 months .This institution has made a quantum leap since the first recorded coffee shop that ran with the ottoman empire, as the sultans savoured this drink in their potential mates’ merits based on the taste of her coffee. As the opera music illuminates the already well –lit coffee station. I glance over at my blond tea server, and ponder the situation. Maybe I will ask for her opinion on the ancient Turkish custom some other time.

Heartbroken

                                                             image:pexels.com
 I did something wrong and I don't know how to fix it. I have a very good friend who is dating a guy I liked for years. She knew I had a crush on him, but when he started showing interest in her, she couldn't resist and started seeing him. For many months, it made me sick to see them all lovey- dovey  together , but I tried to be mature about it and remained her friend. I was almost beginning to think I was over him, when one day , after a party, when he was dropping me home after he had just dropped her off, he kissed me. We were both a little intoxicated, but I knew what I was doing. I felt all my old feelings him rush back and I responded so passionately , we ended up in bed together. The next day he sent me a text apologizing for what happened and begging me not to tell my friend. I was heartbroken but I maintained my silence because I was  ashamed of what had happened. Now, when he sees me he acts like nothing ever happened , even when we are alone. We never spoke about it but I am madly in love with him. His relationship with my friend seems to even stronger after this incident and it kills me to see this. What should I do?

Riding Towards Freedom

                                                              image:pexels.com
I have I went to Dhorla bridge a couple days ago to spend a holiday afternoon on the bank of the river.  The place is a favourite among the people of... for its natural beauty . As I went for a walk along the river, I could feel the cool breeze on my face and felt very elated. There is a large field near the river bank. Children were playing cricket and football on the field. Grownups were also tempted to take part in a sport.

After walking a little further, I saw a couple with a child on a motor bike. They pulled over at a corner of the field and the man was showing his wife some techniques and a few useful tips on riding the bike. I was impressed to see that the woman was quick learner . The child was particularly ecstatic to see her mother riding the bike. What fascinated me most about the whole scene was the glowing confidence of the woman. It also made me wonder if women in other regions of the country would be allowed to ride like that.

Desperate

                                                                image:pexels.com
I have a strong  problem. I am turning 32 this year and I am dying to get married and have children. I think I am pretty good looking woman, but even though many men interested to flirt with me and take me out, not one of them want to get serious. In fact, the last two men I was seeing both abruptly started seeing other women without even breaking up with me properly.  One of them, who insisted he wasn't  ready for a serious relationship actually dated someone else right after me and married her within a year! This is making me wonder if there is something seriously wrong with me. I haven't made very good decisions in the past and don't have the perfect reputation, but I feel like I have grown up since then and am ready to be taken seriously. I tried to ask these guys why they don't want a real relationship with me but they seemed to avoid my question by telling me they find me attractive, but don't want anything serious right now.  What do you think I should do about this?

Ink Disaster

                                                             image:pexels.com
My friend used to be obsessed with stationery when I was at school . Her pencil bags  looked swollen , because she carried so many pens. Of course the good side is that we never had to worry about pens if our ones ran out of ink. She was well known among teachers as well. However, one day a disaster happened. Our economics teacher had forgotten to bring her pen to class, and naturally she looked at my friend. My friend gleefully handed her pencil bag to my teacher, asking her to choose from the huge collection she carried. Our teacher put her hand inside; not bothering whichever pen comes out, as long as it was a pen . But when she took her hand out, we saw that her fingers were covered in ink! She looked dumbfounded at my friend , who frowned. The whole class had burst out into laughter by then.

The Cost of Indifference

                                                          image:pexels.com
I was walking home from my office one day when I saw a small child begging in front of a shopping mall. He seemed tired and hungry, rushing from one person to another begging for alms. At one point, his hand accidentally brushed against the leg of a man, walking into the mall. The child, thinking nothing of it, rushed to ask money from another person, when the man caught him by the scruff and started beating him mercilessly. The guard of the mall too joined the man in hitting helpless boy. I stopped in my tracks and asked both of them to stop beating the poor boy. The man seemed even more furious at my intervention and started saying that I had no right to stop him. I asked him calmly whether he could dare to repeat his action if this were the child of a well-to-do family. Listening to our arguments, passer-by, who till then either taking enjoyment in the little child’s misery or walking by hurriedly, asked me to ignore the incident and continue on my way, saying that the man made a mistake and won’t repeat. I was shocked at the apathy presented by this people. They were ready to be entertained by something as hideous as beating up a child but they neither were nor ready to confront the man who committed a crime, so to speak, because they were too scared. If ignorance and indifference is our reaction to every evil as a society then I am sorry to say that we will have nothing humane left in us.

The One-Armed Man

                                                               image:pexels.com
The other day I was going to Agrabad to my aunt’ by bus. It was noon, and the bus was crowded. Traveling by bus in ....during the summer is never comfortable. I was trying to divert my attention by looking out of the window. At one point of the journey, a one-armed man mounted the bus, and was asking for alms. The man was in his thirties, and he was carrying a small child with him. As usual people did not want to help him, and some were even criticizing him for not working for a living. With tears in his eyes, the man answered poignantly,"Everybody blames me for not working, though I am quite young. But nobody offers me a job. Who would offer a one-armed man any work? I lost my harm in an accident while working in a factory, and now I am completely useless. Even by selling my blood, I cannot feed my child for two days. What else do you expect me to do?”  The man’s story really touched me along with the other passengers. This incident makes me wonder about the situation of our country. With the price of necessities rising every day, what will the poor do? Even the price of their blood is not enough to feed their family members.

Prince Charming in the Manhole

                                                         image:pexels.com
One morning I was in a rush to go to school so I was really walking fast. But before I get into my story I would like to mention one mention one thing, which is the day before it was pouring like anything and there was a puddle right in front of my school. So, as I rushed forward to reach my school I accidentally slipped on a banana peel and fell into the puddle of water. Right at that moment, I saw my biggest crush walking towards the gate and I instantly got up to make sure no one saw me. However, he did see me and to my amazement he came to my rescue like a knight in shining armour. Ashe was walking forward; he did not notice and instead of helping me, fell into a manhole! I did not know what to do, whether to help him or not, instead I burst out giggling and laughing.

The Mystery with the Pen

                                                    image:pexels.com
There was a six feet tall figure in our school known as “still body”. He was a faculty personal and he used to check our uniform every morning. One day he asked me about my ID card, because i did not have it that day. I had to make up some excuse and get away with it. But instead he stopped me and said, “Fhen”. I could not understand him and did not even bother to, as getting away from him was more important. As he saw no response from me, he again said, “Fhen”. This time I had no choice but say “OK” only to make him feel that he was clear to me. I was just about to move away, when for the third time he said,   “Fhen”. Then he waved a page at me and finally I understood what he meant! He was actually looking for a pen from me so that he could write my name and keep it as a record because I did not bring my ID card!

Sun for Sauna

                                                                image:pexels.com
Summer here is quite extreme. The days during this season are not like one of those days where one would want to enjoy the sun because, even if they try to, the post reaction to the hot sun would be nothing but skin burns. Like every other hot sunny day, my friends and I were hanging out at a small tea stall after school. We were talking about our regular subjects when all of a sudden , Paul , a friend of ours who is a bit on the heavier side , started complaining about how he has been trying to lose weight , but keeps failing all the time. He kept on complaining for days till we would pay any attention to his “Big” problem. However, that day, one of my other friends, who got sick and tired of his complaints, suggested him to wrap himself up in two big blankets and run around the roof around the hot sun in the afternoon. We all knew that he was being sarcastic, but poor Paul thought that the idea might not be that bad. The next day he came over, all puffed up and red with skin rashes with absolutely no change in his weight. We all knew what he had done and could not help but laugh!

A Knock to Bang

                                                    image:pexels.com
I was on my way to work the other day and as usual stuck in a long , never-ending traffic jam. While waiting, I was accosted by several beggars. Some went away  after I politely told them I had no change to spare, there was one, who kept standing  next to  my car window, knocking hard; and I was worried that the glass would break. When I shouted at him to stop , he started making lewd comments about my appearance and made several rude hand gestures at me which made me loose my temper and demand that  my driver do something about it. I thought if my driver got out of the car , he would be scared enough to walk away but to my surprise  he wouldn't . He showed  my driver right back  and kept staring at me. I was very angry at the time, but afterwards , when I thought about it, I realised  that it is possible that very soon most of the poor on the street will start becoming more persistent and violent as inequality in this society is increasing, bringing with it more hopelessness, frustration and anger. It is worrying to think about future.

 Shoes Speak

                                                                image:pexels.com
Considering the horrendous traffic situation of the city , I prefer public transport and do not use my car, if I can help it. Last week , I hopped on a bus from ...to go home . The moment I got in, a couple of passengers approached me and began to mumble an apology. It took me a while to understand that they were explaining why they were traveling without tickets. Although I consciously believe that no work is big or small and that there is dignity in every profession, I must admit that I felt a little indignant at their honest mistake ."Please tell me what made you think that I was a ticket collector," I asked them. They laughed and apologized again , but chose not answer my question . A similar, but even more awkward thing happened in the same week : I was taking a friend to a restaurant for dinner when the security people thought I was her chauffeur and told me to wait outside. I was baffled, but my friend laughed and told me later that it was my shoes that gave a wrong impression everywhere.

Astonishing Honesty

                                                           image:pexels.com
A few days ago, I went to the cinema with some friends where I lost my wallet at the entrance. I had around five thousand taka cash in the wallet. I was so upset and worried that I barely watched the movie . When the movie ended and I was on my way out , a shabby looking man asked me whether I had lost anything . Surprised , I told him about my lost wallet and he said he had found it and recognized me from a photo in my wallet . I found the cash intact when he handed to me . This person was selling tickets in black  in front of the cinema hall. Usually we think such kind of people are supposed to be unscrupulous . But this particular man overcame his creed and his honesty and touch with humanity astonished me. Most people, perhaps, wouldn't have taken the trouble to return something precious that actually belonged to someone else.

Harassment Through Facebook

                                         image:pexels.com
I feel sorry for those teachers who have Facebook groups against their names. The other day as I signed into my Facebook profile I found myself tagged in a photo.The tagged photo was my friend, who is a teacher in a reputed English medium school . When I was about to comment on the photo, to my utter shock I found a lot of unwanted  and cheap comments made by other people who were also tagged in the photo . I called  and informed my friend about this, to which she replied that it's her students who had done this and there are a few other groups on her name created by the students. These students encourage other students to post all types of indecent comments to make fun of the teachers they don't like. Although few of the groups are closed by now, the school authority can not take any punitive measure as the creator of such groups remain anonymous. 

In The Hope of Enlightenment

                                                           image:pexels.com
Nowadays when  On one evening I was going to .....by ...bound bus from.....There was unbearable traffic congestion on the road. So, after reaching ....I decided to walk the rest of the way to .....As I walked by ....I noticed that two kids, who lived by the lake with their parents, were reading books in the light of lamp posts. People like me who were passing them were as astonished as I was to see their enthusiasm for study. Despite my desire to talk to them, I could not stay there for long. I just want to say that these kids are like our brothers . They have dreams just like us they also want to be educated .We have a responsibility toward them. In my teaching life I have seen many students who never concentrated on their studies . Their parents had to resort to energy drinks like "Complan and Horlics" to increase their kids concentration. Teachers are hired to tutor these kids in every subject . I suggest that those parents who spend lots of money on their kids' education to take their children to those poor kids who after working or begging all day long, try to continue studying in the dim light of a lamp post. I urge people who feel that they have a responsibility toward society to bring these poor children into light. Let their potential be explored. Who knows some of these kids might one day turn out to be next Ishar Chandra Vidyasagar?

Natasha and Anna

                                                      image:pexels.com
Natasha Dimitri paced up and down her verandah. She kept repeating to herself ‘Why does he not come? Oh, why is he so late?’ She was waiting for Boris, her beloved Boris.

Natasha loved very few people in the world, only two to be exact; her elder sister Anna and Boris. Natasha had first seen Boris when she was eight and he sixteen, it had been love at first sight for her .As the years rolled by , her love for him grew stronger and stronger, fueled by the belief that he was meant for her and that he too felt the same way about her .Natasha loved him with all the passion her heart was capable of . He was her true love, her secret love, her everything.

Most people thought Natasha strange. She felt things with such intensity that she made people around her feel uneasy. There was and would never be any medium for Natasha .In truth even her parents were a little afraid of her volatile nature. ‘She has an artistic temperament,’ her mother would say trying to quell her worries regarding her younger daughter’s overwhelming passionate nature. In return, Natasha’s father would retort, ‘She’s spoilt.

Of course they never dared to say anything in front of Natasha. But Natasha sensed their disapproval and could not careless Natasha held all the world in contempt.

Except of course Anna and Boris.

Anna was the only person in the house hold who sympathized with Natasha and although her own plodding nature was vastly different from Natasha’s, she loved her tenderly. Anna was intelligent enough to make no attempt to understand Natasha, Knowing it would be useless; instead she loved her the way she was.

Natasha understood, was grateful and repaid that love with a love double in intensity.

That night Natasha worked herself into a frenzy of disappointment and worry at Boris’s tardiness .Every Wednesday Boris had dinner at the Dimitri household. It was an obligation that he fulfilled punctually and eagerly. His late father and Natasha’s father had been the best of friends and when his father had died Natasha’s father had paid for Boris’s upkeep. In consequence Boris paid every person in the Dimitri family every possible attention.

But this particular Wednesday Boris did not come. Natasha went down to dinner and fought back tears of anger when she saw Boris empty chair.

‘Where is Boris, Papa? She questioned father.

‘I am not certain. He told me he was busy and could not come today.’ her father replied genially.

‘What could possibly be more important ban dining with us? Natasha demanded.

To this her father did not reply and Natasha remained broodingly silent throughout the rest of the meal. When dinner was finished Natasha ran to her room. Flung herself on the bed and proceeded to cry stormily.

Eventually her tears dried. Then She took up a glass of hot milk to Anna .This had been a nightly ritual for years. Natasha always took up a glass of hot milk to Anna and then the two girls would talk for hours on end together. They would confide in each other, gossip together and laugh together.

But that night Natasha was in no mood for confidences, gossip or laughter. She was too angry at Boris’s neglect of her.

‘Natasha, ‘began Anna hesitantly after some time’ I could not help but see how disappointed you were when Boris did not come tonight.

Natasha cut Anna off abruptly.’I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘But’

‘Anna please’

                                                          image:pexels.com
So Anna remained silent.

The next day Boris came early in the morning. When he saw Natasha his face lit up and he stretched his hands out to her.

‘Why did you not come yesterday?’ She queried, grasping his outstretched hands and peering up at him.

‘I was busy preparing a surprise for you. Forgive me.’

‘Of course,’ Natasha exclaimed quickly forgetting her anger of the previous night. ‘What surprise?’ she asked eagerly.

Boris smiled fondly down at her. ‘You will find out at the ball on Saturday/

* * *

On Saturday Natasha dressed carefully for the ball, knowing Boris would be there. Her painstaking preparations were rewarded when Boris greeted her. ‘You look lovely’, he said admiringly.

That night Boris was very attentive towards her, dancing with no one but herself and Natasha was brimming over with happiness.

At dinner her father gave a toast. ‘I would like to propose a toast in honour of my lovely daughter Anne and her wonderful fiancé Boris.

Natasha gripped the table. The colour drained from her face. The room spun and she felt faint.

Just then Anna and Boris approached her.

‘How do you like your surprise? Boris smiled at her.

‘I tried to tell you on Wednesday but you would not listen. You probably thought he was neglecting me but how you guessed we were engaged I will never know.’ Anna laughed it was supposed to be a secret. I wanted to surprise you.

‘Yes,’ Boris continued, flashing Anna a loving look which sent a shaft of pain through Natasha’s heart, ‘I was visiting my mother on Wednesday to tell her of our engagement.

Anna and Boris both looked at Natasha expectantly and she rose to the occasion. Concealing her crushing misery she kissed them both and wished them well, and she announced the tears she shed to be tears of happiness.

Later Natasha and Anna talked deep into the night. Anna chattered excitedly and Natasha listened patiently, glad to see her sister so happy.

When Anna began to feel sleepy Natasha kissed her and went to leave.

She pushed at the threshold and looked back at Anna who was just beginning to drink her milk. Natasha smiled a sad yet loving smile and thought ‘I love you too much to spend the rest of my life hating you.

The next day Anna was found dead .She had been poisoned.