<%-- Page Title--%> Dhaka Diary <%-- End Page Title--%>

<%-- Volume Number --%> Vol 1 Num 113 <%-- End Volume Number --%>

July 11 , 2003

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Fun in the Rain

I was passing by my university and saw two very contrasting sights. It was raining really hard and there were a lot of people who had gotten caught in it. On one side of the street, I saw a couple of university students trying to cover themselves up, hiding their expensive watches and protecting their cellular phones. From the looks on their face, they seemed to have been cursing all the elements of this universe. Close by, I saw a bunch of kids wearing shorts and nothing on top, probably from a nearby bosti, jumping around a puddle of water. There was a pipe from one of the buildings that was letting out water from the roof and the children were happily jumping about it, taking turns under it and having the time of their lives. I guess the more people have, the more their worries augment whereas those who have nothing to loose really know how to live.
Proshanto Debnath
Iqbal Road, Mohammadpur

A Lesson

My sister and her friends, comprising of five girls and four guys, were on their way back to Dhaka after completing a tour of India by train. They were chattering away about their tour, which had often ended in abrupt halts. Her male friends broke off in the middle of their speech each time they had seen a pretty girl pass through their compartment. Their eyes followed the girl until she disappeared. This went on until Sabrina one of the five girls became really irritated. When a woman accompanied by a big man entered the compartment, she put her fingers into her mouth and blew out a dirty whistle. If my sister did not see her whistle, she wouldn't have ever believed that a girl could really whistle that way. Hearing the whistle the couple swung around, their fists clenching and unclenching and their nostrils flaring. They glared menacingly at the group to find out the culprit. Sensing this, one of the guys poked out his head through the window while another became busy looking for something in his shopping bag and the other two guys stared at their shoes flatly refusing to look up. The girls were waiting breathlessly to see which one of the guys was going to receive a slap in his face. Sabrina, the real 'Culprit' who was trying to suppress the overpowering giggle, which was tickling her within the stomach, looked so innocent that her look could only be compared to that of an infant's. After failing to identify the guilty one, the duo left and the girls burst into laughter and they went on laughing until the make-up on their eyes were washed out. The guys never attempted stare at a single girl throughout their journey back home.

Big moustache and the sandal story

The other day I went to the office of a private television channel to meet someone. Just in front of the entrance I saw piles of shoes and sandals, of all possible sizes and colours. The signal was obvious you would have to take off your shoes before you entered. I looked around as if to understand if it were safe to leave mine. When I looked at the security man, standing right at the door, I caught sight of his 6 inch-long , oil-nourished, shining, glittering moustache, with its two sides showing an extra eagerness to move upwards, I had no doubt about his ability. A man with such an extraordinary possession can't be irresponsibleafter all, as the saying goes, a darwan is as good as his moustache. I came back in less than 1 hour……… and………..alas!……my sandals were not there. Mr. Big moustache gave me a big smile, beckoned me to sit and advised me to keep a watch on every soul going past us. I followed his suggestion, started to look at everyone's feet, more precisely at their footwear and making them curious. I didn't find my sandalls, and sadly left the place barefoot. But I learnt a good lesson a big moustache doesn't always make a good darwan.


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