Dear Friends,
I know you've not seen me around here much.
But I've been very, very busy.
Too busy to write. Too busy to take photos. Too busy to blog.
My days (and nights) rushed by... merged into one another... I was busy. And I was scared.
The two men in my life were both in hospital.
Dad had a long-scheduled cataract-glaucoma surgery. Complications could arise because of his advanced age - he's 71! And Ranak scared the living daylights out of everyone by picking up acute Hepatitis E. His liver enzyme level (known as SGPT) climbed to 3400 (normal is 42!) and he turned yellow with jaundice, and dropped weight overnight! Hepatitis E is a self-limiting disease and has no known clinical cure.
I rushed from one hospital to another (located conveniently at two ends of town), and came home in between for a few minutes, took leave from work, and shopped endlessly for this and that (for there were a few house-guests who had to be cared for as well), and put on a brave and competent face for the world.
But at night, curled up in bed with Candy, the scared tears flowed. And I prayed. And promised to be good. And begged.
And God listened!
They are both home now. Recovering slowly.
And life is getting back to normal. Soon, I'll be blogging!
Thank you, dear Readers, for your emails and support through this difficult time.
Bangladesh Slideshow
16 August, 2009
27 June, 2009
My Feathered Friends
Sparrows are nesting in my veranda again! And it's such a joy to wake up to their happy chirps.
Check out the proud parents.
And their home-delivered supply of food and water. They've now developed a preference for imported bird seeds over the local rice.
Apologies for the poor quality photographs (taken with my cell phone). Blame Nokia.
Check out the proud parents.
And their home-delivered supply of food and water. They've now developed a preference for imported bird seeds over the local rice.
Apologies for the poor quality photographs (taken with my cell phone). Blame Nokia.
04 June, 2009
Time to Go
If I hadn't been born as a human, I'd probably have been born as a tree. I have a tendency to put down roots and spread branches wherever I go. And then when it's time to leave, the uprooting is very painful.
I have recently started a new job. Most would call it an upward career move, but in order to start this job, I had to stop with my old, which was a very sad parting indeed. I had been with that organization formally for two years, and informally for quite a while longer. Tree-natured that I am, it was long enough time for the roots to go down very deep and the branches to spread very wide.
Almost before I realized it, it was my last day at work. And we had a little party!
The food was yummy.
And the atmosphere was festive.
We had two unexpected underage guests.
But we were only serving soda anyway, so there was nothing to worry about.
The Boss pressed an ice cream on me. You can tell that I didn't want it.
Then I got told off when I opted for the junk food. The boss didn't tell off the others who were stuffing their faces - probably because they were not leaving. Such discrimination! Tsk..tsk!
But the tears were brimming in many eyes behind the smiles - in mine too of course, and I had a stash of tissues ready to stem the waterworks.
Yeah and some said 'good riddance!', and 'let's eat!' Oh well, you can't win 'em ALL.
I got some very thoughtful, very lovely gifts. My personal favorite was the scrapbook with photographs and scribblings from my colleagues.
And I want to thank Nuzi, for organizing it all, and for being such a lovely person and the best roomie a person can ever have. I will miss having my personal DJ.
And Akbar, for being friend, philosopher and guide. And the biggest softie ever!
And Afroja, for being such a great sister. Always compassionate. Always ready to lend a hand.
And Beata and Manzoor bhai and Rizwan bhai - what a great team we made!
And to everyone else, I just want to say thank you for making this place my home away from home, and for being caring and supportive throughout this journey. For letting me make so many happy memories. And most of all, for making me feel loved! There will never really be another bunch like you in my life. I will miss you so very much.
So ugh, let me pull up my roots, and go onwards with life. Please pray that I will be happy wherever my journey takes me. And remember, there will always be room for you in my life and my home will always be open for you.
I have recently started a new job. Most would call it an upward career move, but in order to start this job, I had to stop with my old, which was a very sad parting indeed. I had been with that organization formally for two years, and informally for quite a while longer. Tree-natured that I am, it was long enough time for the roots to go down very deep and the branches to spread very wide.
Almost before I realized it, it was my last day at work. And we had a little party!
The food was yummy.
And the atmosphere was festive.
We had two unexpected underage guests.
But we were only serving soda anyway, so there was nothing to worry about.
The Boss pressed an ice cream on me. You can tell that I didn't want it.
Then I got told off when I opted for the junk food. The boss didn't tell off the others who were stuffing their faces - probably because they were not leaving. Such discrimination! Tsk..tsk!
But the tears were brimming in many eyes behind the smiles - in mine too of course, and I had a stash of tissues ready to stem the waterworks.
Yeah and some said 'good riddance!', and 'let's eat!' Oh well, you can't win 'em ALL.
I got some very thoughtful, very lovely gifts. My personal favorite was the scrapbook with photographs and scribblings from my colleagues.
And I want to thank Nuzi, for organizing it all, and for being such a lovely person and the best roomie a person can ever have. I will miss having my personal DJ.
And Akbar, for being friend, philosopher and guide. And the biggest softie ever!
And Afroja, for being such a great sister. Always compassionate. Always ready to lend a hand.
And Beata and Manzoor bhai and Rizwan bhai - what a great team we made!
And to everyone else, I just want to say thank you for making this place my home away from home, and for being caring and supportive throughout this journey. For letting me make so many happy memories. And most of all, for making me feel loved! There will never really be another bunch like you in my life. I will miss you so very much.
So ugh, let me pull up my roots, and go onwards with life. Please pray that I will be happy wherever my journey takes me. And remember, there will always be room for you in my life and my home will always be open for you.
24 May, 2009
Glory to Shame
Last week Afroja, a very good friend of mine, was invigilating at an examination at the public university where she works. When an unruly student tried to cheat, time and again, she finally took away his exam script. And this is where my story begins.
The young man belonged to the student wing of the Awami League - the party that is now in power in Bangladesh. Furious that a mere teacher would have the audacity to try and stop him from cheating, he first threw a tantrum. Slammed down his hand on the desk, threw down his pencil case, threatened that if he was not allowed to finish the exam he would not allow any other student to do so either. My friend held her ground, refusing to be intimidated. So the young man called in reinforcements. A jeans-clad and sunglass-sporting gang descended on the other students like birds of prey, and took away exam scripts from some, shouting obscenities all the way, threats showering down on the heads of students and invigilators alike.
Wait, wait, the story gets better (okay, worse). Senior teachers were called, and senior leaders of the student body, AND the police! The rowdy student was expelled from the examination, and a subsequent decision was taken at the highest level of the university to suspend him for the time being, and to file a criminal case against him, for the threats he had issued to my friend. My friend came home that evening in a police vehicle. The rowdy young man was taken to jail.
End of story? Of course not! Merely the beginning. Senior student leaders went to the Departmental Head to ask (??) him to lift the case, to revoke the suspension, and to allow the student to continue with the exams. So how much would you like to bet that the leaders were summarily told off by the Head? Well, if you had bet anything, then you lost. For the Head caved. He called my friend to ask if they should lift the case. Another senior invigilator at the same exam gave a statement to the investigation committee that the situation was 'under her control' all the time, and that it was the hot-headed new teacher (my friend) who had been irrational and impulsive! So, another meeting was held, the suspension has been revoked, the case will be lifted, and the student given a license to kill, er, cheat at exams. And who will dare say a word against him? Or the likes of him? My friend has received a lot of calls from unfamiliar numbers over the past three days, and can anyone tell me who will ensure her safety when she next goes to the campus? She will have no option but to arrive at some sort of compromise with the all-powerful student leaders - just to make sure she can continue with her legitimate duties unhampered and unharmed.
Are you wondering how a mere student, or a student wing of a political party, can have so much clout? If so, then you must be from outside the Indian subcontinent, for student politics is a concept still alien outside this region.
For the uninitiated, let me tell you that almost all political parties in Bangladesh have highly active student wings. Student politics gave a new dimension to Bengal politics in the early 20th century and the incentive to student activism mainly came from the nationalist movement launched by the western educated Bengali-middle class. The revolutionary terrorist movement, swadeshi movement and the non-cooperation movement made student politics institutionalized in the first quarter of the 20th century. Student politics has a particularly strong hold on Bangladesh, and I must admit that perhaps there is no other country in the world that is more indebted to student politics than Bangladesh. Indeed, it has given us the right to speak Bangla as the state language, and has given us independence.
However, the glorious era of socially-sensitive and ideology-driven student politics was slowly transformed by a gross manipulation of young minds by a self-serving political leadership. Fragmentation within political parties led to segmentation within the student wings, and affiliations degenerated into a patron-client relationship. In order to establish control over student fronts, the major political parties and their factions began to enlist even non-students into the leadership of student organizations. The non-student leaders of various student organizations are used in intra and inter party political rivalries, where winning is the only thing that counts, by fair means or foul - preferably the latter, often through meaningless loss of lives. The moral bankruptcy of the new generation of political leaders has played a major role in pushing students away from ideology-driven politics towards money and power-driven politics. These student activists are all powerful, extortionists of the highest order, and can pretty much do as they please, on campus or off, for they have the full support of the political leadership.
Now that I've finished blaming the political leadership, let me turn towards the teachers - those who belong to the noblest of professions, whom we look upto, who hold the torch of education aloft. The world over, this is the profession that carries the highest glory, commands the deepest respect. However, it saddens me to say that some teachers in Bangladesh, especially at university level, wish to keep on excellent terms with the student wings of political parties. Student politics is vertically linked with teacher politics, all the way up to the office of the Vice Chancellor.Teacher politics is a curse even worse than this new generation student politics. These teachers keep on good terms with the political leadership and reap benefits. Of course, it is quid pro quo, and in return, these teachers do not ever wish to be at odds with the 'special students', who mostly don't bother about attending classes, only show-up for the exams, and then try to cheat, and mostly get away with it.
And when someone like Afroja puts her foot down and tries to stop it, we recoil in horror at the sheer audacity of this small fry. The entire system conspires against her. I just spoke with her a while ago on the phone, and she is justifiably depressed. She does not fear for her life - you only die once after all, although cowards die many deaths, and she is a very brave soul. She is depressed because for the rest of her teaching career at this university, or indeed at any other public university in Bangladesh, she will forever have to compromise on her ethics and values, and work within the 'system' that has evolved.
My hats off to you, Afroja, for having had the courage to do the right thing. My hats off to you, for showing what integrity and morality is - vestigial traits in our teachers. You have done nothing wrong, so hold your head up high, although I fear you will be punished in some form or other for doing the right thing.
I am so ashamed of ourselves as a nation, and of teachers especially. In a time that calls for situational ethics, moral courage is becoming less evident as a leadership trait. When did we allow ourselves to become complete puppets at the hands of the political leadership? And how can we come out of it? Do we even want to?
The young man belonged to the student wing of the Awami League - the party that is now in power in Bangladesh. Furious that a mere teacher would have the audacity to try and stop him from cheating, he first threw a tantrum. Slammed down his hand on the desk, threw down his pencil case, threatened that if he was not allowed to finish the exam he would not allow any other student to do so either. My friend held her ground, refusing to be intimidated. So the young man called in reinforcements. A jeans-clad and sunglass-sporting gang descended on the other students like birds of prey, and took away exam scripts from some, shouting obscenities all the way, threats showering down on the heads of students and invigilators alike.
Wait, wait, the story gets better (okay, worse). Senior teachers were called, and senior leaders of the student body, AND the police! The rowdy student was expelled from the examination, and a subsequent decision was taken at the highest level of the university to suspend him for the time being, and to file a criminal case against him, for the threats he had issued to my friend. My friend came home that evening in a police vehicle. The rowdy young man was taken to jail.
End of story? Of course not! Merely the beginning. Senior student leaders went to the Departmental Head to ask (??) him to lift the case, to revoke the suspension, and to allow the student to continue with the exams. So how much would you like to bet that the leaders were summarily told off by the Head? Well, if you had bet anything, then you lost. For the Head caved. He called my friend to ask if they should lift the case. Another senior invigilator at the same exam gave a statement to the investigation committee that the situation was 'under her control' all the time, and that it was the hot-headed new teacher (my friend) who had been irrational and impulsive! So, another meeting was held, the suspension has been revoked, the case will be lifted, and the student given a license to kill, er, cheat at exams. And who will dare say a word against him? Or the likes of him? My friend has received a lot of calls from unfamiliar numbers over the past three days, and can anyone tell me who will ensure her safety when she next goes to the campus? She will have no option but to arrive at some sort of compromise with the all-powerful student leaders - just to make sure she can continue with her legitimate duties unhampered and unharmed.
Are you wondering how a mere student, or a student wing of a political party, can have so much clout? If so, then you must be from outside the Indian subcontinent, for student politics is a concept still alien outside this region.
For the uninitiated, let me tell you that almost all political parties in Bangladesh have highly active student wings. Student politics gave a new dimension to Bengal politics in the early 20th century and the incentive to student activism mainly came from the nationalist movement launched by the western educated Bengali-middle class. The revolutionary terrorist movement, swadeshi movement and the non-cooperation movement made student politics institutionalized in the first quarter of the 20th century. Student politics has a particularly strong hold on Bangladesh, and I must admit that perhaps there is no other country in the world that is more indebted to student politics than Bangladesh. Indeed, it has given us the right to speak Bangla as the state language, and has given us independence.
However, the glorious era of socially-sensitive and ideology-driven student politics was slowly transformed by a gross manipulation of young minds by a self-serving political leadership. Fragmentation within political parties led to segmentation within the student wings, and affiliations degenerated into a patron-client relationship. In order to establish control over student fronts, the major political parties and their factions began to enlist even non-students into the leadership of student organizations. The non-student leaders of various student organizations are used in intra and inter party political rivalries, where winning is the only thing that counts, by fair means or foul - preferably the latter, often through meaningless loss of lives. The moral bankruptcy of the new generation of political leaders has played a major role in pushing students away from ideology-driven politics towards money and power-driven politics. These student activists are all powerful, extortionists of the highest order, and can pretty much do as they please, on campus or off, for they have the full support of the political leadership.
Now that I've finished blaming the political leadership, let me turn towards the teachers - those who belong to the noblest of professions, whom we look upto, who hold the torch of education aloft. The world over, this is the profession that carries the highest glory, commands the deepest respect. However, it saddens me to say that some teachers in Bangladesh, especially at university level, wish to keep on excellent terms with the student wings of political parties. Student politics is vertically linked with teacher politics, all the way up to the office of the Vice Chancellor.Teacher politics is a curse even worse than this new generation student politics. These teachers keep on good terms with the political leadership and reap benefits. Of course, it is quid pro quo, and in return, these teachers do not ever wish to be at odds with the 'special students', who mostly don't bother about attending classes, only show-up for the exams, and then try to cheat, and mostly get away with it.
And when someone like Afroja puts her foot down and tries to stop it, we recoil in horror at the sheer audacity of this small fry. The entire system conspires against her. I just spoke with her a while ago on the phone, and she is justifiably depressed. She does not fear for her life - you only die once after all, although cowards die many deaths, and she is a very brave soul. She is depressed because for the rest of her teaching career at this university, or indeed at any other public university in Bangladesh, she will forever have to compromise on her ethics and values, and work within the 'system' that has evolved.
My hats off to you, Afroja, for having had the courage to do the right thing. My hats off to you, for showing what integrity and morality is - vestigial traits in our teachers. You have done nothing wrong, so hold your head up high, although I fear you will be punished in some form or other for doing the right thing.
I am so ashamed of ourselves as a nation, and of teachers especially. In a time that calls for situational ethics, moral courage is becoming less evident as a leadership trait. When did we allow ourselves to become complete puppets at the hands of the political leadership? And how can we come out of it? Do we even want to?
20 May, 2009
Home Improvement
She likes to pretend that she's an interior designer of sorts. She is forever moving things around in the house, or changing the look of a room. Her favorite shows are Lifestyle and HGTV and her favorite websites bhg and decor8. You should know however that all her home improvement projects are executed on a strict budget, and with little (or no) structural remodeling.
She had long wanted a nautical theme for her bathroom (a standard 7.5 ft by 6.5 ft with white tiles) and finally managed to put together enough items to carry this project out.
First came the shower curtain with star fish and cockle shell motif.
She hot glued shells to the net curtain.
A star fish and ranellidae shell garland was hung along the top frame of the mirror.
A bowl of assorted shells sat side by side with a fish-shaped dish on the marbel-topped vanity unit.
An empty gin bottle made a color coordinated vase for peacock plumes, adding a whimsical touch.
Dogs feature prominently in her life, and her bathroom was not to be an exception. There was an embroidered towel and a mug, and Candy's bath-time starfish toy sat atop the wc.
The end effect was of a serene oasis. A little amateurish, a little silly, but she loved it!
She had long wanted a nautical theme for her bathroom (a standard 7.5 ft by 6.5 ft with white tiles) and finally managed to put together enough items to carry this project out.
First came the shower curtain with star fish and cockle shell motif.
She hot glued shells to the net curtain.
A star fish and ranellidae shell garland was hung along the top frame of the mirror.
A bowl of assorted shells sat side by side with a fish-shaped dish on the marbel-topped vanity unit.
An empty gin bottle made a color coordinated vase for peacock plumes, adding a whimsical touch.
Dogs feature prominently in her life, and her bathroom was not to be an exception. There was an embroidered towel and a mug, and Candy's bath-time starfish toy sat atop the wc.
The end effect was of a serene oasis. A little amateurish, a little silly, but she loved it!
10 May, 2009
Metro Manila
The name of the city has always sounded most cosmopolitan to her. It is not just any city, but a teeming metropolis of cities within a city. Metro Manila is the total urban area that is composed of seven cities and the surrounding urban fringe of nine towns - 636 square kilometers inhabited by more than 10 million people!!! The actual city of Manila is only one of the cities in this urban agglomeration. Known in Tagalog as Kalakhang Maynila or Kamaynilaan, Metro Manila is the National Capital Region of the Philippines. It is an interesting fact that while Metro Manila as a whole is the Philippines' seat of government, yet only the City of Manila is the capital of the country.
(Photo credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metro_Manila)
This metropolis was the Blogging Girl's most recent destination. She arrived prepared to be awed (God knows why, for she had known other mega cities), and was. From her 18th floor hotel window, she could see mile after mile of skyscrapers, and on her walks to her place of work and around town, she marched shoulder to shoulder with the populace. She was even addressed in Tagalog a number of times, making her feel that she belonged!
But it saddened her to see some people living in abject poverty, in makeshift houses, and on the streets. Reminded her of home, sigh!
Weather and traffic conditions seemed to conspire against all her sightseeing plans. But one day her meetings finished early, and she hopped into a taxi to go to the old Spanish city of Intramuros.
It was like being transported back in time...
Fort Santiago was the first Spanish settlement of the area. Initially a log and earth structure, it was later rebuilt in stone. It now houses a shrine to the national hero Jose Rizal.
The Fort had a beautifully landscaped garden. Complete with strategically placed benches to give a breather to those tired feet!
She hired a Calesa to take her around town. Her carriage was drawn by a handsome blood bay called Big Boy!
On her way back, she just had to take a detour to walk along the Manila Bay.
Metro Manila is a shoppers paradise, and when the Blogging Girl says paradise, you'd better believe her!There were five malls within walking distance of her hotel, including the massive SM Mega Mall. The Metro Manila traffic condition does not encourage commuting, so she walked from one mall to the next in blissful anticipation. Returning laden with packages only when she could not carry anything more.
She mainly bought Capiz items for her home. Capiz is both a geographical location and the name of a shell that is used largely in interior decorating and for decorative accent items and accessories. Geographically speaking, Capiz is a province of the Philippines facing the Sibuyan Sea to the north. The Capiz shell, which is used for decorative purposes, is the outer shell of the marine mollusk, Placuna placenta, found in the shallow coastal waters of the Philippines. The Capiz shell is a flat, semi-transparent shell with a gold-tint mother-of-pearl appearance.
And despite dubbing the city the "Ugly Shoe Capital of the World" on her first foray into the malls, she managed to buy quite a few pairs of shoes.
She was in the city of the famed Imelda Marcos after all. It was a kind of obligation!
So she returned home with a bit of a dent in her wallet, but she returned happy. And isn't that the most important thing in the whole world?
The origins of Manila can be traced to the Muslim settlement of May Nilad, a prosperous trading port. The name means "'where the blossoming water plants grow'. Conquered by the Spanish in 1571, it soon evolved into a province, and continued to grow despite adversities such as numerous Chinese attacks upon the Spanish, a brief period of British occupation, and the two World Wars.
This metropolis was the Blogging Girl's most recent destination. She arrived prepared to be awed (God knows why, for she had known other mega cities), and was. From her 18th floor hotel window, she could see mile after mile of skyscrapers, and on her walks to her place of work and around town, she marched shoulder to shoulder with the populace. She was even addressed in Tagalog a number of times, making her feel that she belonged!
But it saddened her to see some people living in abject poverty, in makeshift houses, and on the streets. Reminded her of home, sigh!
Weather and traffic conditions seemed to conspire against all her sightseeing plans. But one day her meetings finished early, and she hopped into a taxi to go to the old Spanish city of Intramuros.
It was like being transported back in time...
Fort Santiago was the first Spanish settlement of the area. Initially a log and earth structure, it was later rebuilt in stone. It now houses a shrine to the national hero Jose Rizal.
The Fort had a beautifully landscaped garden. Complete with strategically placed benches to give a breather to those tired feet!
On her way back, she just had to take a detour to walk along the Manila Bay.
Metro Manila is a shoppers paradise, and when the Blogging Girl says paradise, you'd better believe her!There were five malls within walking distance of her hotel, including the massive SM Mega Mall. The Metro Manila traffic condition does not encourage commuting, so she walked from one mall to the next in blissful anticipation. Returning laden with packages only when she could not carry anything more.
She mainly bought Capiz items for her home. Capiz is both a geographical location and the name of a shell that is used largely in interior decorating and for decorative accent items and accessories. Geographically speaking, Capiz is a province of the Philippines facing the Sibuyan Sea to the north. The Capiz shell, which is used for decorative purposes, is the outer shell of the marine mollusk, Placuna placenta, found in the shallow coastal waters of the Philippines. The Capiz shell is a flat, semi-transparent shell with a gold-tint mother-of-pearl appearance.
And despite dubbing the city the "Ugly Shoe Capital of the World" on her first foray into the malls, she managed to buy quite a few pairs of shoes.
She was in the city of the famed Imelda Marcos after all. It was a kind of obligation!
So she returned home with a bit of a dent in her wallet, but she returned happy. And isn't that the most important thing in the whole world?
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