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

<%-- Volume Number --%> Vol 1 Num 119 <%-- End Volume Number --%>

August 22 , 2003

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The Umbrella Story

It was drizzling when my friends and I went to Shamsunnahar hall to meet a senior apa. But after seeing the rules and regulations of the hall, only one of my friends went inside and two other were gossiping in the waiting room. While chatting, we noticed a dadu (peon) sitting just beside us. When our friend returned we came out and forgot to take the umbrella we kept on the table. The next day, when we asked all dadus there about my umbrella they denied to see it. Then we asked them about that dadu and gave them the full description of him but they pretended not to even know him. But I was desperate, as this was not the only umbrella I lost, but every member of my family lost at least one umbrella at one time. We were determined to find him and thus kept waiting. But even after an hour he didn't show up. So, when we wanted to hang a notice in the notice board and told a dadu about it, he feigned not to recognise us though we had talked 10 minutes ago. Be on your guard if you decide to venture to Shasunnahar hall, particularly when you are carrying an umbrella.
Farhana Tahsin, DU

No link...no work... no bribe...

In today's age of information technology, land phone should be rather a right to every citizen. In Spain, you inform the authority office at noon about your necessity of a phone, they come up with the wires and telephone set in the evening and you get your connection that very evening. But for the Dhakaites it is well known and well experienced that getting a land phone connection is like becoming the owner of a shonar horin (golden deer). If you have applied for the connection in your youth, your grandsons might get the connection at their young age. Keeping in mind all the hurdles I would have to cross in becoming the owner of a golden deer-- the valuable- phone, I ventured for a land phone for smooth functioning of my literary magazine office at the city's Farmgate area. After paying the money against the demand note, obviously experiencing a great deal of hassles, I went to the Shere- E- Bangle Nagar exchange for collecting my advice number. It was around 12: 30 pm and I thought that ten minutes was enough for me to complete the task. But they took, to my utter surprise, at least 2 hours just to give me an advice number. First they said they couldn't give the advice number to me because they didn't have advice book at their table at that time. I was not willing to make them happy with bribe, feeling utterly helpless, I called a senior at the IBA who was working in the same office and asked for his help. My helpful senior advised me to meet the Assistant General Manager. The AGM told me to send him the person- in -charge for providing voice number. This time when I met the person- in- charge he started feeling nervous and obviously he valued me highly. His voice was changed, from a rude to polite one, and he became the most gentle and dutiful person on the mother earth. It took only fifteen minutes to get my works done.
Md. Ashequl Islam, IBA Hostel, Dhaka

On being a Noakhalia

In Joe D.Silva's article titled "On being a Noakhaila" he wrote, “Because of this aspersion 'sad to say', we people from Noakhali never admitted openly that we were from there". I want to deny this claim. I am proud that I am from Noakhali. My father was born in Noakhali and so, I am originally from Noakhali. A friend of mine who now lives in the US always says that he is from Comilla, even though he is originally from Noakhali. He was ashamed of his village home. But that was not the case with me. As I grew up, I entered Chittagong Govt. College of Commerce. The people in Chittagong called the Noakhalia people 'Japani'. Why, I never knew. The stated that since I was born and brought up in Dhaka, I was Dhakaiya but I would not let them decide on my identity. As I was doing my B.Com. in Dhaka University, our class went to the then West Pakistan in a good will tour. During the tour we were in a beach where we met a paan walla. We chatted with him for a while and got to know that he too was from the same 'desh' as me. He gave us all complementary paans. I still remember the fellow feeling of being a 'deshi'.
Waliur Rahman, Dhaka



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