গল্পের রাজত্বে বসবাস করছি আপাতত CLOUD The moment I got out of the house, wind whispered to me, follow me. I told her to get lost. I don’t care for anyone. I do what please me. When I said that, feisty wind gave me a big slap. Wind kept pushing me forward. While passing I met the bokul tree. Tree spoke, you are sweating. Come sit next to me for a moment. I answered, No, don’t have time to sit down. I have to go a long way. Hearing me say that few pretty bokuls jumped into my lap. Told me, we want to go with you too. I said, NO. Don’t come with me otherwise you will wane. Still the pretty little flower kept following me. Putting them in my closed Palm I kept walking. Shortly after met a bouncy river. Pushing her URNA (scarf) away she screamed, come to my bosom, I will give you some fishes.” I replied. No dear, I don’t need anything. You keep following your stream and I will follow my path. Wild river didn’t care for what I just told her and pulled me in to her stream. After a while, drifting in the river at last I have reached the sky. Sky Lord woke up all his stars and asked, WHO IS IT? WHO ARE YOU AND WHT IS IT YOU WANT? I answered politely, My Lord, I got here while drifting away. I don’t wish for anything. Listening to my answer sky lord just smirked and said, Yes, I see, you came here all prepared! Wait I am going to turn you in to a cloud.” Since than I am a cloud. Straight line Mamoon always drew pictures since he was just a little boy. Once while sitting on my table he drew picture of a staple. Everyone affirmed it looked like a husking pedal to mock him but in reality it really did resemble a stapler. Another time he drew a portrait of Laboni. Even five of Labonis lovers couldn’t recognize her, although they all agreed upon that the portrait looked far prettier than her real self. One day THAT Mamoon announced that he has became an artist now. Something like this incident was first ever to happen among my friend circle. So we all went together to Mamoons abode. When we got there we found his mom was in tears. She has comprehended that her son has gone bonkers. We stared at him. He hasn’t shaved, has been taken to wearing glasses, there are dark circles under his eyes, halitosis from un brushed mouth. Just like a real artist, paints, brushes, canvas, bottles of oil everything is scattered everywhere. We all exclaimed, “what happened to you?” He just beamed and said, “I am evolving into an artist and this is my studio.” His mom told us, he has locked himself up in that room for last 3 days, not even eating or cleaning himself since. I asked him – so what did you draw? Nothing Why? It’s just not happening! Are you drawing something rather difficult? Yes, A straight line. One of us squealed, that’s not something special to draw! Another affirmed, look at all this, You drew so many of these straight lines. But he answered, No, none of these are straight lines and than took the brush in his hands again. He was oblivious to our existence in that room and kept drawing straight lines one after another. ….. Fairy and the Shepherd Fairy was flying through the sky. While flying she thought of something and looked down. Noticed, far down there alluring green earth. Fairy came down. The shepherd was playing his flute on this quite corner of the forest. Rhythm of the flute enticed the fairy and brought her there. They met each other. Shepherd knew what has happened to him; he heard apparently when something like this feels in the heart that’s called love. But what happened to the fairy? Fairy didn’t know, no one taught her about love. Whole night she lay on shepherds’ chest while he played his flute, fairy listened. Than once, only for once shepherd placed a gentle kiss on fairies forehead. They didn’t notice when it became morning, when they realised, fairy cried. I have to go! Sheppard replied me too! But in reality he didn’t quite want to leave. Even when the fairy tried to fly, she noticed whole nights dew and earth’s affection has swamped her wings. Fairy wept, “What am I going to do now” With a tender smile shepherd said to her, “stay with me.” So Fairy stayed. After that, many years have passed, fairy became unrecognizable, and so did the shepherd. Fairy lost her sky by falling for shepherd. And by being in love with the fairy, shepherd lost his earth. Did you know, since than fairies don’t fly in the sky no more? Even when they do they never never never look down at the earth. Since than shepherds stopped playing their flutes, even if any of them do play, tries not to go to that corner of the forest at night. CIVILIZATION In the morning to make breakfast we need bread maker, electric juicer, griller to grill sausages, coffee maker, than during the day we need computerised electric cars for transport. At night when we go home to sleep, we still need air conditioner, sound controller and so many other things. The whole earth is full of gadgets. Without machine mankind forgot how to take a step or to walk, parents forgot to teach kids to take their first steps, to speak. From childhood mankind started to rely on machines. Human race of that century claimed them selves to be the most refined of being to ever exist. And just than nature took their biggest revenge. It’s been a while since tree, animals, flowers, birds all disappeared from earth to save their pride. One day even water dissolved. All those super high-tech gadgets were sent thousands of feet down inside the earth but still couldn’t catch a drop of water. Natural minerals like gas, oil also disappeared. And than deprived from light, water, heat human kinds started to perish. All the manmade machines were left behind scattered everywhere. All those high-rise buildings were left alone, all empty. All the machines left scattered got rusty, buildings started to collapse on their own. In that way few centuries passed. Than one day next to the broken nuclear furnace a little green leaf peeked out. She brought her beautiful green friends along with her. Another few centuries passed and than earth started to become inhabitable again, full with life. New lives on earth explored past and present. They realised in the old days there were most foolish creatures on earth called human who brought their own destruction. Blue eyes So far I have only collected twenty pairs of eyes. It hasn’t even filled up half of the basket. Maybe another twenty pairs or so will somehow be enough to fill it up. But the real problem is its really rare to find blue eyes in this country, nearly impossible. Even when one is found, quite difficult to get hold of one. After all who is going to give up their eyes so willingly? Everyone loves their eyes excessively. I am not really fond of my eyes that much. Mine are grey. Parvin doesn’t like grey eyes. She loves blue eyes. Deep as the ocean, soft like the sky, that blue eyes. I am always looking out for those eyes. I am always with a piece of rope, a torch and sharp surgical knife. It was raining that night, pitch dark. I found some one. - STOP That man looks frighten. - Brother, I don’t have anything on me. He obviously thought I am just an ordinary hoodlum. - You do. You have blue eyes. - WHAT? - I need those blue eyes. My precious Parvin adores blue eyes. - No! My eyes aren’t blue. Trust me! The man screamed with such sadness in his tone! Unfortunately I didn’t have the luxury to care for his screaming. So I pushed him down, Sat on his chest, pressing him down on he ground. Pulled his eyes out with the shiny sharp knife. Blood spurted out from the sockets. Stored the eyes in a formalin filled bottle. Returned home and realized my mistakes. How could I! Those are grey eyes. Not blue. How could I make such a terrible mistake? I took someone’s eyes for nothing. What choices have I got now apart from repenting? ALAS! (Octavio Paz – blue book) REASON WHY POET LOST/LEFT THE JOB AGAIN!! Whole office is air-conditioned. Even for a cigarette he had to go out. He caught a cold within three days of working there. Although, he doesn’t really have much work to do. Maybe proof reading some articles, playing a little online game, but he was quite satisfied with the job. It actually surprised everyone that he is actually holding on to this and finally actually working! He probably would have. But there was a small problem, a really minor issue, such a little problem that it’s impossible to even believe it. Truth was, there was a waste land on the way to work. How did this place emerge in such posh and busy area of the metropolis, he kept thinking about that for nine days. The more he thought the more nonsense started to accumulate in his head. Even that probably wouldn’t have mattered but what put the final nail down on that was the public toilet ground. There was a misspelled notice on the wall , “DO NOT OORINATE HERE. IF YOU DO 10 TK FINE.” And everyone kept urinating there with mighty force in the direction of that notice board. He just had to tolerate viewing that scene everyday or he had to take the detour to avoid this. But as its impossible to take the detour every morning it was also quite impossible to tolerate the odour of waste and public urinate mixed together. So he questioned himself. Why should I work on such a place where there are only two ways to reach, one a rounaboutway and other is a nightmarish odour filled route. Eventually so he left the job. He obviously didn’t have a choice. Me and the butterfly On one side of the glass it’s me and on the other side it’s the butterfly. It’s very rare to come across such vibrant butterflies in Dhaka city. Red, blue, purple, black all the colours are illuminating like a kaleidoscope on its little body. Its wings, body everywhere such beauty its just impossible to describe the intoxicating awe-inspiring work of art. I am sure even many prominent designers would be captivated with the composition and combinations. One side of the high rise building is made of glasses. On the road outside cars and other motors are passing in a monotonous rhythm. Nest to the side walks jarool and krishnachura trees are playing with the wind and mocking the air with its red – purple colour explosion. The only thing visible within sight is that radhachoora tree and the crow’s nest on its branch. I Can’t see any eggs or baby crows. Only can see dried up straws of the big shaggy nest. Well this is my seventh job. I heard seven is a lucky number so maybe that means I probably am going to hold on to this job. Infect I have to. Cause by now I have acquired quite a reputation for changing too many jobs. But I am helpless. How can I put up with so much just for some money end of the month. I am already feeling slight revulsion with this job within only 10 days. I feel like a prisoner in this air-conditioned glass cube. I think the butterfly is trying to break through the glass walls and be inside this room. I squash my nose on the glass, butterfly fluttered a little bit further away only to return and sit on top of my nose. Its than decided I have to let the butterfly in. I just have to break the glass wall. So I took the paperweight in my hands . . . FACE OF A PROCESSION Mili introduced us, “ her name is Ruma. She is studying anthropology.” I have seen her just a moment earlier at the very front row of the procession. I questioned her, “why are you missing classes to join protests.” - Because Ratan is dead. - So what? Why do you have to miss classes for meetings and protests whenever someone gets killed? What kind of politics is that?” - This is not a matter of politics sir! If someone bits me up to death. Wouldn’t you protest? Her question stunned me! - Actually this protesting stuff is not good. I mean so many people screaming, there are hubbub everywhere. - She pronounced in a stern manner – well these are not like going to movies for your entertainment. No one joins a procession for fun. Although I do enjoy processions. Alright sir. Good bye! Ruma storms out. You shouldn’t have spoken to her like that. She is a nice girl, a very active worker. Suddenly there was a sound of a shooting. Mili pulls me down. “LIE DOWN. THERE ARE SHOOTOUTS.” Like it started, the firing stopped suddenly. There were a crowd in front of the cafeteria. Mili runs to the crowd only to return ruffled. - They fired. Ruma got shot and spot dead. What are you saying? We are going to start a procession with her corpse. They are probably going to try stop us but we are going to go ahead. I have to go. Mili wait. I am coming with you. Yes of course I am going to join the protest marching. Firmness in my voice surprises even my own self! PRIMAL BEING - Sasha isn’t there any humans here? - You can always call me a human. - You are just a robot. They made you. - I can cry, I can laugh, and I can love. - That’s true. Talking to you does feel like talking to a real human. How was that possible Sasha? - They used to think humans have to have perfection. So they started to make themselves flawless! At first they stopped eating, than they started to detach from all emotions. They thought emotions are obstacle to human progress. - What’s their intention? - To LEARN. Apparently success to human race is in learning. - And how did you come to know all this? - Because two thousand years back they created us with real human emotions and feelings! - We can laugh, can sing, we have hunger, we are happy just to catch sight of the moon shining. - Sasha, I think you, Robots are much more human like than present human kinds. - I am glad to hear you say that. - Sasha you adore homosapiens, don’t you? - Of course! - Do you think humans are still humans? - That’s a food for thought. - I thought about this Sasha. We need to do something. - What do you want to do? - Truth is you are the real being, so human race will exist only if you do? - OK - And what one has to do for others to survive? - Remain alive. - I think you are right. Let’s make a plan. Wait let me close the door. No one can anything behind the closed doors…