Recognition 5zi5z

Recognition

Nirmal Sarker

Copyright © 2020 by Nirmal Sarker.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020900363 ISBN: Softcover 978-1-7960-8131-2 eBook 978-1-7960-8130-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 01/10/2020

Xlibris 1-888-795-4274 www.Xlibris.com 803909

Dedicated to …

My teacher,

Professor Margaret Peg Jenner

Centennial College, Toronto, Canada

My wife,

Basana Dey

Public Service Assistant

Toronto Public Library, Canada

and

Our kids,

Niladri and Senjuti

Contents

Introduction

PART 1 Recognition

Recognition

Labeling

Not Like All

I Am Not a Stranger

Limitations

Word Puzzles

A Six-Letter Word

S

Jasmine

Curse

Antipodes

A Lyric

Lyrics on Autism

Mantra

Truths

PART 2 Feeling

Who Are We?

Feeling

Tears of a Mom

My Dad

Fraulein

E-Love

Fiancé

Immigrants

Inability

Sew Up

Commuter

She

Nari, a Woman

Seniors

Home of Aged

Epigraph

PART 3 Miscellaneous

A Journey of J

True Man the Third

Happyhappy.com

Hello, Train

Untitled

Rally for Us

Wheelchair

PART 4 Nature

Where Do I Live?

Spring

The Horizon

Snowfall in Toronto

Baishak and a Sweetheart

Fossilization

Gongachara

Part 5 Misconception

Incongruity

A Monologue

Inequalities

Unveiling

Introduction

The theme of these poems is a reflection of people with impairments and their lives, loves, pleasures, and inequalities, as well as a mixture of awareness, inspirations, emotions, demands, and humanities. A few of these poems are about nature. This is an attempt to provide some missing ideas about people who have disabilities.

Part 1 Recognition

Recognition

I’m rocking. I rock throughout the year. I look at the open sky endlessly. I see the shining stars, and I dream. No one cares about me. People label me disabled. Nobody wants me as a friend. They treat me negatively. Am I unwanted? No, I am a human.

I know, I need some help. Don’t always help me. Don’t do everything for me. Let me try; I will. I need some only.

I am a human, not a barren land.

Many wishes haunt me like others. I want to be a mother or a father. Even a grandma or a grandpa.

December 1, 2009

Labeling

I was born in nice weather. When I was born, I came to hear, “So cute, so lovely, so nice to see,” etc. Mom calls me a summer baby. As I was born, the first impression seemed perfect. No ailments, no bad symptoms found in me. We returned home on a nice evening. Everybody was happy to see me.

One year of enjoyment. Another summer! Tidy environment. Doctor’s office, just for a regular checkup. I didn’t find anything wrong with me! But I was seeing everyone worried and anxious. Signs of unwanted thought on doctor’s forehead. Mom was anxious about the doctor’s troubled face. Eyes on me! A specialist board is arranged. Decision: Evidence suggest, “Something wrong with brain.”

Mom queries, “Why?” Doctors’ bewildering opinions, “No evidence yet. Might be genetic, might be acquired!” Uncertainty encircled Mom and me. Am I going to be labeled with an unwanted name and fame?

Mother’s Day, 2011

Not Like All

I am different, not like all! God didn’t give me fullness. I’m physically challenged. People look at me differently and accused my birth. I love to hear my birth was okay. I like to greet others. But people don’t greet me back ‘cause I am different, not like all!

Misconceptions encircle me. Misunderstandings encircle me ‘cause I am not like all! But no one wants to know the facts. No one knows what the cause is, ‘cause I am not like all!

International Disability Day, 2013

I Am Not a Stranger

I am a person with some impairment. Everybody looks at me curiously. I know I can’t think easily like all. But my heart beats like all. I know I can’t understand easily like all. But I can recognize who loves me.

I have feelings like all. I can feel the moment of my birth. I am not an alien!

I have an origin. I am the first child of my parents. I am the firstborn child in my family. I cried like all on the doctors’ table. My mom had joy seeing me. But my story is, “Doctor found something wrong.” Now I am a girl with retardation.

I am not a stranger! I am a girl, and I have a name.

July 1, 2010

Limitations

Birds can sing; bees sing all the time. I am nonverbal. I can’t sing like a bird or a bee. People call me mute.

Birds can see; bees can see. I have eyes, but my visual loss labeled me as visually impaired. I can’t see like a bird or a bee.

Birds play in the sky; bees play in the air. My lower limbs are weaker. I can’t bear my weight on my own. I can’t play and fly like a bird or a bee.

Rainfall has a sound. Its sweet sound embarrasses everyone. But I can’t hear.

My growth is limited. I’m called short-figured, dwarf. Mom used to say I have a height problem!

November 11, 2012

Word Puzzles

These words are all about my birth and its effect. Those words always puzzle me, that is, time, normal, abnormal, factors, hereditary, genetic, abuse, infection, trauma, nonspecific, disorder, tension, fertilization, embryo, entwined, interlinked, mature, immature development, fetal, full term, chromosome malformation, Down syndrome, language delayed, spina bífida, muscular dystrophy, cerebral palsy, reft syndrome, spastic diplegia, osteoporosis, spinal muscular atrophy, transverse myelitis, quadriplegics.

February 7, 2011

A Six-Letter Word

People see I rock and rock all the time. I move back and forth continuously.

People see I bang my head. I flap my hands and wiggle fingers in front of my eyes.

People see I walk on my toes. I jump up and down. I yell, I scream.

People say I make some funny noises. I repeat words, phrases over and over. I agree I do these things.

People think I do all those things intentionally. But not.

People talk about me. I talk to myself, not social. I ignore my brother, sister. I’m shy, never look at others. And Mom too.

People say I’m stubborn. I hear, I’ve my own world. People use a six-letter word for me: “autism.” Call me “autistic.” Blame it on me and used to say. Blame it on me and say I’m unreadable.

June 14, 2015

S

I am S. People see I’m calm, quiet, and alone. People see I’ve been looking toward the sky, walking alone, aimlessly. People see I’m standing beside a fence or by the side of the window, thinking.

Someone sees I talk a little. I don’t play hide-and-seek with my friends. I avoid children’s groups. People think I’ve no affection for my playmates, think I’m always within myself and alone. And I do not have much attachment to adults and parents too.

I’m S. Maybe I see the bluish sky or golden sun. Maybe I see greenish leaves and flowers. Maybe I hear the birds’ songs or soft rains.

Maybe I try to see the whole nature. And this is how I am. I hope people will understand me. That’s how I am; I’m S.

November 11, 2017

Jasmine

It’s jasmine. Can you recall me? I say, “I am night jasmine!”

I am a pale, ill-fated flower. I bloom in the wee hours of the dawn. I can’t complete my dreams in the morning. Those dreams are not ever seen. I hear bees whispering early in the morning, but their touch makes me dull. My pollen grains are wet before spreading in the air.

When morning sunlight comes, I lose my smell. I miss my color and shape. I miss the kiss of morning sunlight. When the smell of bakul (Mimusops elengi) gets in, I see myself in an abandoned basket.

February 2, 2013

Curse

I hear whispers: Disability is a sin. I hear gossip: Disability is a curse.

Maybe I’m one-legged, or one-handed. Maybe I’m a cripple, one-eyed, or autistic. But where is my mistake? I hear: I’m blind. I hear: I’m deaf.

May be I’m impaired in multiple ways. People point fingers at me. What are my flaws? People say my mom is ill-fated. Did my mom do anything wrong? She gave me a normal birth.

People whisper: Disability is a sin. People gossip: Disability is a curse.

November 11, 2011

Antipodes

I know I’m not perfectly okay. But people think only of what I’m not.

September 21, 2010

A Lyric

My pain is not the end, not the end of hardship. But I am not like all. They call me not by name.

No one understands. Complaints toward me flow. Accused, Mom and Dad ask why am I so? I don’t know.

God didn’t give me fullness but the mystery of pain. And I can’t sing like you can, but I fall just the same in love with the idea of becoming who I am. And just like you, I’m growing

into my own skin. So love me as I am.

April 2013

Lyrics on Autism

Yesterday, a friend of mine came to me. Tearful eyes, wanting to know what is going on with her son. He doesn’t call her ma, look at her, or smiles, never answers to his name. Neighbors say it is autism. She’s upset, crying all the time, thinking life is no more, looking at her faults and sins.

My friend asked me to write a song. I don’t know how I’ll help. But I can say autism is not a disease,

not a sin. Love your son. Don’t be upset; love your son. Love, love, love your son.

March 25, 2019

Mantra

Is there any mantra that can heal my wound, heal my damage/injury? Is there any mantra that can heal my mind, and soul? I want to have that mantra.

People label me as disabled due to impairment in my body. Label me lame, deformed.

Due to my impaired brain, label me as mad, insane. Call me moron, imbecile, and mentally ill!

Incapable of speech, I’m labeled mute, dumb. Call me Mongoloid, Mongol

‘cause of Down syndrome.

I’m unable to read and write. Can’t things on time. People dislike my deficiency, insult me, keep their distance, hate me, and neglect me. Think disability is a shame.

I know I have deficiencies. But I’ve some abilities too. I’m differently abled.

Is there any mantra? I want to have a mantra that can heal me, heal my mind and soul.

June 2015

Truths

Three truths strengthen me— Love, , and hope.

Love me, care for me, and me.

I will give you a smile.

January 10, 2010

Part 2 Feeling

Who Are We?

We have many names, different titles. Some are words; some are phrases. We have many names, different intonations, and different tunes.

We have many names, different approaches. We have different titles and pronunciations. Different spellings, different syllables. Somebody calls us unlucky. We are called handicapped, disabled, crippled, subnormal, insane, invalid. We have many names, different addresses. We are called unwanted, hopeless. People commonly used to say, “Retarded.” Everywhere, every day treat us as dependent.

We have different images. Some are biomedical; some are functional.

Lame, deformed, physically challenged. Images us as mentally abnormal!

In the agency, our names are clients. Somewhere honored as core . Somewhere honored as participants. Somewhere honored as residents.

In the school, we are not mainstream students; we are segregated. We are extra cared for. In the society, we have no money. We are the poorest of the poor.

In the job market, there are no jobs for us. We are devalued; others have low expectations for us and think us unproductive. Interesting! How can one person possess so many names?

April 17, 2010

Feeling

O, Mom, I owe it to you. Dosh, mash, dosh, din, ten months, ten days I was in your belly. I was nourished by you. Your blood is flowing in my veins. Biologically, I am always with you. My hands, legs, body, eyes, and heart, all are from you. I owe it to you.

O, Mom, I owe it to you. You know about my every stage of development. How sad I am, how alone I am, and I am glad that everything you know. My blood circulation reminds me that

you do everything for me. You first saw me in an incubator. I feel your struggle and pain for me. I can recall you cried why I was there. I felt it in my tiny heart.

You know I am not completely okay like others. You could understand my problems more than others could. You are my trainer, everything. Your gestures guide me as an orchestra conductor.

July 10, 2010

Tears of a Mom

Don’t blame me. I’m a mom. Whatever my son is, I love my son. He’s my life! I love my son.

Neighbors say my son is a handicap, cripple, and an invalid. Relatives say my son is an autistic, is divine-diseased, brain-disordered. Even call me a refrigerator mom. No matter his difficulties, I’m a mom, and I love my son. He’s my life.

People address my son as hopeless, dependent, abnormal. Whatever he is, no matter; he is. I’m his mom; he is from my womb.

He is cute and beautiful to me. He’s my heart.

My son is called worse. It’s not fair, not nice, and not correct, People don’t know all these words touch his emotions deeply and make me mad too. Whatever my son is, I’m a mom. I love my son, My son is my life. He is my heart.

July 2015

My Dad

I’m a disabled son of a dad! Do you know who my dad is? Do you know what he does for me? Do you know how he helps me?

I’m a disabled son of a dad! He is my dad, who feels for me all the time. He is my dad, who works for me all the time. He is my dad, who teaches me all the time. He is my dad, who cares for me.

I’m a disabled son of a dad! He guides me like a mountain conqueror’s guide. He serves me like a medically trained nurse. He understands my problems like an investigator.

My dad helps others who are like me and always helps as much as possible.

He doesn’t discriminate against me and others. He never thinks I’m disabled. He assists me to achieve my goals.

December 2011

Fraulein

Nice scarf! Beautiful jewelry! Nice to look at. Can I describe the beauty of your scarf, jewelry? Beautiful hands! Nice fingers! Amazing ring finger! Can I touch your hands, fingers? Beauty spot on left check! Blonde hair! Blue eyes! How attractive are you? You’re like rain, spring to me. Your sweet voice, telephone tune, Sweet to me. Can we share all things?

Valentine’s Day, 2012

E-Love

S, I got your e-mail, e-card, ’n’ e-kiss. I love you, not your e-mail, e-card, or e-kiss. Messages sound interesting, not loving. My eyelids are covered with your love. I love you; I love to see you.

S, I got your e-mail, e-card, ’n’ e-kiss. I love you, not your e-mail, e-card, or e-kiss. Messages sound interesting, not love. My eyes want to see you all the time. I love you, I appreciate your love. I want to see you all the time.

September 9, 2010

Fiancé

If you come, darkness will go thousands of miles away. If you come, my darkened hut will be lit with love.

Isolation

Hi, Mom.

I love to see you

Sometime soon.

I hope soon.

Immigrants

Immigrants cry for a country, for her soil and nature where she was born. November 10, 2010

Nostalgic

The poet writes a poem,

places left.

September 21, 2010

Inability

N, were you annoyed last night? I couldn’t embrace you cordially. You know my limitations. I felt annoyed, my honey.

N, did you have pain last night? Dear, you know my weakness. You know my inability to endure. I am sorry I couldn’t continue full time.

N, did you get embarrassed last night? I know I couldn’t share your emotion. Sweetheart, you know my inabilities. I couldn’t describe my feelings, emotions in a full sentence! My sweetheart, you know my reality. Believe me, I tried to give you my feelings, emotions. My partial paralysis couldn’t make me a lovemaker.

But I didn’t miss you; I enjoyed. I disappointed you, but every kiss and hug from you made me happy.

August 1, 2010

Sew Up

An old building on Bongshal Road in the old town of Dhaka. There are some pigeons flying untidily on that building’s roof. Some of them are turning ’round and ’round with pleasure. There is no pain or harm on their faces. Always happy, always happy. A few of them are gossiping on the other side, near the cornice. Some of them shaking wings to remove morning fog. There is no pain or harm on their faces. Always happy. There is never any tension on their faces, as if they are always happy, always cherished.

Peace is needed for everyone everywhere

for their entire lives. Peace is needed for everyone everywhere for the entire world.

August 12, 2012

Commuter

A little girl. Dukhe (ill-fated girl), a slum dweller born with disabilities, believed to be “God gifted.”

Early morning! Goes out to look for scrap food. It satisfies her pangs of hunger.

She goes to nearby rail station, begs as way of life. Hot sun and a rainstorm daily friend of hers.

Late evening! Back to the slum. Sleeps dreamlessly. Then colorless morning, and she starts her daily rituals.

November 1, 2010

She

Tears, a constant companion. Born with dark complexion in a poor family. Mom died in the labor room. Grew up with a stepmother. Continued living with sorrow, neglect, and poverty.

Tears, a constant companion. One day settling down to a married life. Started a new life with a stepmother-in-law. Tragedy was always on her back. Neglect and devaluation her daily friends.

Tears, a constant companion. Getting free from her husband after a year, darkness covered her life permanently. Oppression, torture started from her mother-in-law. Finally moves to a slum, starts another life, but continuing her tearful life.

December 23, 2010

Nari, a Woman

Nari (a woman in Bengali), a woman carries a tiny dream as if a tiny river. Destination toward the sea. Nari, a woman, a cargo train es on the track. Kamlapur depot to Tejgoan, a long line. Malibagh-moghbazar crossing on the way stops movement like a family trouble. Nari, able to manage trouble efficiently.

Nari, a woman. A woman, an image of Durga (according to Hindu myths, power of the Supreme Being and Divine Mother), a highly spirited goddess, a ten-handed being able to manage everything. Nari, a woman. The first farmer, a conqueror,

a beauty of nature, a source of life, a nakshi kantha (embroidered quilt is a folk art of Bangladesh and West Bengal, India), stable in ambition.

Nari, a woman. A small house with many rooms. A lover, a mother, a power, a moonlight night, a dream.

Nari, a woman. An ocean, an open sky, the earth, the entire universe. A woman is actually what she does.

March 8, 2016

Seniors

Who are seniors? Who once had youth, brightness, education, jobs, properties, And everything? Who are seniors? Seniors are those who have nothing now.

March 12, 2011

Home of Aged

Who lives there? You, me, she, or he? Who are they? Mrs. D, Mrs. M, Mr. B? Who lives there? Our moms, dads? Our grandmas, grandpas? Our ancestors, forefathers? Who were they? They were honored officers, efficient s, CEOs, skilled workers, famous players, kindhearted doctors, nurses. They were great professionals, specialists, renowned writers, orators, famed actors, singers, world-famous ecologists, economists. They were freedom fighters, peacekeepers.

Why are they there? Lack of ability? Lack of money? Cultural heritage? The pretext of culture? I don’t think so.

I know them! There were a lot. We forget their love, kindness, and help.

Their courageous advice, directions, and bright pasts. I know who lives there. They are our blood, our roots. We are branches of them.

April 4, 2010

Epigraph

My biography will be a short one on my tombstone. It’s S, nothing more.

September 21, 2010

Part 3 Miscellaneous

A Journey of J

“J [name of a girl], are you busy-busy? I called you last evening.” “Sorry, I attended a funeral yesterday. Canada’s last link to the First World War; a veteran left us yesterday. I visited him on his deathbed.” “Sorry, God give him eternal peace.

Are you doing something right now, J?” “Yes, I am drawing a sketch of a wheelchair.” “Oh, nice! Why is it drawn? I would love to see your sketch. What a nice idea!”

“A wheelchair is a symbol of travel. I will travel to the Great Wall of China next month. I plan to visit the rest of the Seven Wonders, one after another.

Next year I will visit Geneva. I will talk to the UN head I talked to Nelson Mandela. He assured me he would work with me.” Good for you; I appreciate it!”

“I am preparing myself for the 2012 Olympic. I will be the torch runner from our country. I want to dance in the opening ceremony over there. Sure, I will win a gold medal for my country.”

Olympic opening ceremony day, 2010

True Man the Third

It’s N. I’m blind in one eye from birth and almost blind in the other eye.

At school, I do my best in my classes. I’m an auditory type of learner. Because of my vision, I can’t see small fonts. I use iZoom magnifier and reader software in my computer for writing and reading as well as listening, and a CCTV for my reading.

I can’t see what is in front and around me. I use a cane to assist with my mobility and safe travel This cane is commonly called a “white cane, probing cane, guide cane, cane, or surface changer.”

This is my third cane. It gives me independence.

Therefore, I can walk all by myself. I love to give my cane a name—The True Man the Third.

December 14, 2017

Happyhappy.com

Hey, little girl, how are you? Why are you looking gloomy? Are you being hurt by someone? We do not want to see your unhappy face. Please tell us why.

Are you still feeling pain? We all are around you. Please tell us about your pain. Where is your colored pen? Take your calendar. Put a mark on your calendar, no more pain please. Don’t worry, we all are around you. We all care about you and love you very much.

You know, Merry Christmas today! Enjoy! We made a site—happyhappy.com—for you.

You will get happy news throughout your entire life, okay?

December 25, 2010

Hello, Train

Hello, train, hello. Hello, train. Wait, wait, wait, please. I wanna know how do you run straight? How do you move from the east to west? How do you move from the north to the south? You are fast, too fast, and very fast.

Hello, train, hello. How do you travel across the country? Hot summer, cold winter, all are the same. Dark or moonlit night, all are the same. I love your straight and long path. I love plus sign on your path. And always parallel, parallel,

and parallel.

August 20, 2012

Untitled

At school, T is very happy. He plays on a computer when he is free as if he is a good computer operator. Sounds with shhhi, shhhi, shhhi and thhi, thhi, thhi, shhi, shhi. Laughs ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Sounds thhi, thhi, thhi, ha, ha! When bell rings to go home, he hears carefully and gets ready to go home.

R pronounces something with khhhi, khhhi when he tries to speak. Keeps his left hand always on his face, and his eyebrows up high on his face. He tries to understand what the teacher asked. Can’t speak properly with his head down. Utters numbers loudly, 1, 2, 3.

M likes to wear bangles and show her bangles to all. If teacher asks who gave them, full of gratitude rapidly answers, “Mom.”

June 15, 2010

Rally for Us

Rally, a special gathering for us, a special day of the day for us. Early in the morning, we all will meet together in front of the national park. Band and drums follow us to show our entity. Hundreds of colorful balloons fly around us. Symbol on our T-shirt says who we are. Theme song describes our background. Dishonor, disrespect will be removed from the society.

Rally is a special day for us, a day of the day for us. But each and every day, we wait for hope and recognition.

December 19, 2010

Wheelchair

Wheelchair: A symbol of overcoming a long path, uncountable distances, ragged, sloppy, full of stones and pebbles. Wheelchair: A symbol of something to be overcome to reach the goal. International Wheelchair Day, March 1

Part 4 Nature

Where Do I Live?

I live in a house located at the end of the road at the end edge of a narrow creek. There is a huge space around my house where I can move my wheelchair easily.

A group of thick trees shades my house. These trees are my oxygen store. Fallen dried leaves are my guardsmen. I can realize when they blow with the winds.

Birds fly around the area. I am watched by them. Their sweet songs serenade me. I get hypnotized by their sweet voices. There is a small waterfall. It helps me sleep at night. A natural spring supplies its water.

I hear its sweet babble all the time.

I live in a house where the open sky plays with me. I see clouds moving across me. The sun cares for me; I can feel its energy. Florescent lights are not needed. Fireflies are my friends. They lighten my surroundings. In the dark night, the moon is my distant neighbor. Fresh air freshens me in the summer.

I live in a house where there is no need for planned gardens. Natural flowers fulfill my demand. I see bees are always busy, busy. They carry pollen for regeneration. Rainy days are awesome. I enjoy the noise of rain falling the whole night. It is neither a village nor an urban area. It is my house, the house I live in.

July 1, 2011

Spring

It is spring, a wonderful season when I see life, a time to feel, a time to love. It is spring, time for gentle breezes, time for birds to sing.

It is spring; the soil is fertile. A time for plants to grow, time for blossoms. Oceans, lakes, and rivers are quiet.

It is spring, a time to think positive, a time to change life. I can feel some secrets in my heart. It is spring, a time for respect and care, a time to save beautiful nature.

March 23, 2010

The Horizon

The horizon is far from us. Horizon, how far are we? Across the seven oceans, end of the sky, countless distance. Horizon, how far are we? My mind, body want to touch you.

Horizon, it is autumn. The sky is full of clouds. Catkins swing out in the air. Horizon, how far are we?

Horizon, your boundary attracts me a lot. How far is your boundary? Are we fixed with your boundary? Can you move your boundary for me? My mind, body want to touch your boundary.

December 1, 2011

Snowfall in Toronto

Winter has started. Torontonians are delighted. Weather forecast—snowfall today, Blowing a surge of cold air. Proverb—“Morning shows the day.” People are expecting snowfall. Meteorologists forecast snow is created in the North Bay. The snow will blow down to Toronto.

Afternoon, and the flurries are blowing. Forecast today is for the first snowfall of the season in the city. Gathering on the roadside, long queue at the coffee shops. Gossips in the tea table as if relatives would come.

Snow is falling; everybody is delighted as if a new relative has come. Kids are enjoying the flurries and snow. Newcomers are anxious, a little bit scared. And suspicious to be quite well in the winter.

Snow is falling. Torontonians are happy and overflowed.

November 4, 2008

Baishak and a Sweetheart

Baishak, the first month of the Bengali New Year calendar. A sweetheart needs many colors: red, blue, violet—all of them! The lover agrees to give all. He wants only Baishak. Baishak. Sweetheart needs so much love. New dresses for her son and daughter, waistcoat for her lover, weaved cloth, sari for herself. Pretty nice! Devotee will give such things. He wants only Baishak. Baishak. Sweetheart wants to eat cultural/local foods in Baishaki mela. She wants to eat phuctka, chotpoti, and sour-tasty pickle in hot sunshine. Devotee wishes to offer exactly the same. He wants only Baishak. Baishak. In the afternoon, she needs strong wind, a nor’easter,

and then whole night rainfall. The lover also wishes to be as she desires. They both want only Baishak.

May 1, 2008

Fossilization

I was floating in the dreamy sky! Clouds were moving around me. Variously shaped clouds touched my dreamy windows! Unknowingly, my mind makes me a physical geographer, trying to cloud formations in the air from my geography class. My eye has never seen such beautiful scenery. I was dreaming and thinking. Suddenly, I opened my eyes. I see all has been covered with snow! Sun and snow are playing as if in a good alliance. Question: Why am I here? Answer: To establish dreams permanently. ‘Cause snow can fossilize better and permanently

December 25, 2019

Gongachara

Gongachara, a village in Bangladesh, recently permanently established its name in the newspaper. Unable to measure due to a lack of geographical knowledge how extended the area of Gongachara is! An assumption—might not be far from Dhaka city, alongside of the dustbin near Shantinagar post office, on the street of Azimpur found such sceneries of Gongachara, where homeless people dried their begged iftari goods,* no shading, sunlight guardsman. Greedy crows are cautious to collect those foods. Gongachara recently permanently established its name in the newspapers, lack of geographical knowledge it has not estimated how extended the area of Gongachara is!

An assumption—might not be far from Dhaka city, alongside the Kamlapur rail station, near Tejgoan rail crossing, Agargoan Bastee, Tannerymore (corner of a road),

where slum-dwellers are living in famine. An assumption—might not be far from the other parts of the world, where poverty, scarcity, and hunger-stricken men move hither and thither.

An assumption—might not be far from the village of a darkened world, where kids are sold openly, and mothers are duped to help them.

August 1, 2010 *Special snacks prepared during Ramadan.

Part 5 Misconception

Incongruity

Twenty-first century, and still the forces of incongruity are everywhere in the country. I got the news a month before. R, age sixty, is my neighbor, who got married to a girl fourteen years old. It’s the fifth marriage for him. The villagers are unhappy; it is a palatable in the village.

I got the news the day before yesterday. A mentally retarded daughter of Mr. K’s committed suicide by drinking poison. Fisherman villager, S’s uncle’s elder daughter, a victim of dowry, returned to the father’s house permanently.

Twenty-first century, and still the forces of incongruity are everywhere in the country. Neighboring villager V has a very dark-skinned sister. She has suffered greatly; her mother-in-law did not accept her ritually

on the wedding night.

K, sister of G, a low (schedule) cast descendant, fell in love with a Brahmin, but failed and was unable to marry him. She committed suicide by hanging. Twenty-first century, and still, the forces of incongruity are everywhere in the country!

February 1, 2015

A Monologue

One of my distant neighbors ed away yesterday. A poor, unfortunate woman named L, meaning life. A ten-letter word—“disability”—always drove her out. She was used to being unfortunate and cursed. She spent her life without love and affection

L was very visible. She went everywhere in her wheelchair. In the community she was never greeted. She was given less attention. She never saw a happy face. Nobody smiled at her; no one cared about her gloomy face. And she was unwanted in her community.

Today is her funeral. The community made a big banner and raised funds for her funeral.

The priest is looking for details to prepare a eulogy about her life. But I’ve experienced a different message. No one said anything about her before death; nobody showed her affection. We couldn’t make her happy on this earth. It’s very upsetting! There is no need to her painful life, no need to sing about her heavenly life. Her believers will see her the rest of their lives.

February 26, 2017

Inequalities

Bengali poet Sattyendranath Dutta said, “There is a nation throughout the world The nation is called ‘Manushjati (humanity).’” Human beings are men. Human beings are women. Human beings are boys and girls. Separation, discrimination everywhere. Everyone two sides of the same stream. We devalue each other everywhere. Youth, loved by everybody. “Old is gold,” is a proverb only. Old are helpless, hated, a burden. Loneliness, suffering all around them. Our beliefs: incompetence, unproductive. Slow down expected output. Everyone turns away: poverty is our daily friend. Crossing 2019, Conflict, misunderstanding,

devaluation; too many crises! There is no humanity, love. Children in famine; mothers are neglected. The whole world— yes, the whole world gets less than it deserves.

August 5, 2011

Unveiling

Yesterday unveiled a stone of No more pain and neglect. End of those days.

End of those days When it was life-wasting, death-making. Yesterday unveiled a stone of No more pain and neglect. “Respect to all equally.”

December 31, 2011