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

<%-- Volume Number --%> Vol 1 Num 153 <%-- End Volume Number --%>

May 7, 2004

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The 'Divider' is the Limit

I was in front of Star Kebab, opposite the WASA building in Mirpur Road, desperately looking for a way to cross the road. I could not jaywalk, as there were tall iron dividers in the middle of the street. Though there was an underpass for crossing the road, I did not like using it as it was always full of sleazy characters. Still, I reluctantly walked towards the subway. I noticed that a small mob of people had gathered and were looking to-and-fro, almost as if they were going to cross the road. Suddenly they did. As far as my knowledge told me, there was no way to cross the street but suddenly, I noticed a gaping hole amongst the dividers. I was quick to join the mob and asked one of the commuters how come some of the iron dividers could suddenly go missing. He grinned and replied that this was the work of some of the local heroinchi (heroin addicts) who did not have any other means to get their 'medicine'. I had heard that some people stole manhole lids and sold them, but this was by far the most weird I had heard.

Shameem, Banani

Our Young Politicians

Some days ago, I went to a sweetmeat shop with a friend of mine. We ordered some delicacies and as we waited patiently for them two young men entered the shop and took the seat in front of ours. The waiters, upon seeing them, started to do everything in a hurry. Without them even ordering, they soon had their table full of different sweets and some bottles of mineral water. Without a word, they gobbled up most of the sweets and left, taking two bottles of mineral water with them. I was a little puzzled because they had not paid for anything that they had consumed. We had already got what we had ordered so I went up to the cashier to pay and asked, "Why didn't those two gentlemen pay?" The man, who had a grim look on his face, told me that those two were young 'politicians' and hence, had to be kept happy. If this is our political scene now, what will these young men have to give our nation in the future?

Tareq, Suryasen Hall, Dhaka University

False Indentity

I went to Ahsanullah Hall in BUET to meet a friend of mine who had been quite ill for a while. When I reached the gate, I noticed a considerable crowd there. There was a woman crying in the centre and people were eagerly gathering to see what had happened. I came to know that this woman was crying because a man had lied to her. The woman, a student of Eden Mohila Collage, had been in a relationship with a student of BUET and they had been going out for a long time. The woman had showed up in his hall to surprise him, but instead, she was on the end of the surprise because when she was passing the canteen, she saw him there: he was serving tea. He worked as the canteen help in the BUET campus and had lied to her about his true identity. She could not control herself when she saw him in his true colours. I guess the foundation stone for a good relationship is honesty and the moment that is broken, it's all downhill from there.

Bichitra Roy, Jagannath Hall, DU


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