Spotlight

Robin, drugs, and I

Dr. Faheem Hasan Shahed

Drinking a can of coke as he sits on the balcony outside his bedroom, Robin (not his real name) stares at me for few seconds when asked to explain the reason for his regular intake of opium and Bangla-wine together while doing class assignments or studying for quizzes.

'To put it straight, that makes my assignments great. And also, I learn quicker,' he says, adding: 'I perform much better in my class the next day.'

'Why is that so? Does it add any extra power to your brain or memory?' I say.

'Donno……damn it!' he fumes somewhat in irritation. With a bit of serenity in his eyes, he asserts, 'See, drugs give me hallucination. It's like meditation…and I visualize my success during that time. It's not a crime, or is it?'

I discover clear helplessness in his look. Is he searching for an answer from me? Am I supposed to tell him the truth? An undergrad student of 6th semester at a prominent university should know the answer better than me, I suppose.

I don't say a single word. Sometimes silence is the best form of reply. It protects you from embarrassment but hurls the unsaid answer at your counterpart to stir his conscience.

Therefore, I stand up and walk close toward a picture of a cute baby hung on the wall at the rear end of the balcony.

'Whose is this?' I ask, 'any one from your relatives?'
'It's me. I was two years old then,' he replied calmly.

Someone strikes me with a shell inside. Aghast, I look at him. A far-reaching quest for tranquility sparkles in his eyes for a moment. 'He surely needs tranquility, but not in this way!' shouts the baby on the photo. I immediately remove myself to another direction.

Amid my failed attempt to strike a balance between the angelic two-year baby on the photo and the 23 year-old drug user university student, I desperately ask him, 'What does your dad do? Where is your mom now?'

My queries sound foolish and hollow. Robin realised it probably. He whisperingly utters, 'They don't have any time for me. Dad is in Dubai now. He was in London last week. Next week he will be in Melbourne to attend his friend's daughter's wedding.'

'Well, in such case, your mom is accompanying him all the time?'

'Nope. Mom's into a party. She'll come late at night.'
Robin sits motionless. I stand stunned.

'That's not a problem, is it?' he hurls a glance. Or glare? 'I have my classes during the day. Then there's this party every evening. Opium party; and many more stuff…aah! Pleasure and pleasure! But why am I telling you these, huh?'

Robin goes inside. Good signal for me to leave. The boy is smart, I admit.

He could have been smarter without the drugs. May be he started taking drugs out of fantasy, a meaningless adventure for a dreamy land which never exists in reality. Hundreds of thousands of Robins are ravaging their potentials out of such adventure, never to return from oblivion.

Their parents aren't stopping them from roaming around the black forest of immorality and self-destruction. They may be too busy to waste their time for saving a generation.

Why are they all running? After what? Are they all in peace? But peace hasn't been so cheap a material that people could buy anytime even with undisclosed wealth!

Coming out on the crowded Gulshan street, I take a deep breath only to inhale the moisture-laden air. I see boys and girls rushing merrily everywhere.

How many of them go to Robin's party for the hallucination-pleasure? How many of their parents keep telling them, 'O my child, pleasure is in finding the real meaning of life that comes to you through hard work and dedication. It never comes through the delusion of drugs.

The two-year old Robin suddenly appears in front of me yelling, 'Bhaiya, please save me! Get me out of the devil's party! Please……!!'

'How did you come here Robin?' I somehow manage to ask. I am trembling.
'I dragged myself out of the photo frame on the balcony's wall…' he sobs obstinately.

Somehow staying poised, I mutter silently, 'Robin, that is no longer possible. You're already 21 more years ahead than the photograph, much beyond the reach of your parents' lost love and care. I don't know who will stop your in-house drug-party! I haven't got the power to overturn nature's ugly rule. You have to do it yourself. Say NO to drugs Robin! Just say it!!'

Before anyone can see my tears, I take a CNG to escape from the place.

(The writer is an Asst. Professor of English Department at AIUB, Dhaka.)

The evil called drugs

Nusrat Chowdhury

When a child is addicted to drugs, people have the habit of blaming his/her family and friends. I would say, stop blaming others and punish the guilty. An addict is solely responsible for his/her situation. It is well known what drugs can do to you, then what is the point in doing something that would ruin your life? Some might argue that peer pressure and family problems are the main cause of drug addiction. Every family has problems, every person has his/her frustration, and taking drugs is not the solution. They are not only ruining their own lives, but they are also ruining the lives of their family members. And because of this problem, these days parent are starting to lose their faith on their children. Those who are not involved with drugs are also being victimized. And I believe they are the bigger victims.

Here I would like to say that parents should talk to their children regarding this matter. Because no one here in Bangladeshi society talk about AIDS and drugs openly. Parents should talk to their children and explain the bad effects of drugs. Often people take drugs out of sheer curiosity. If someone have a prior idea about the effects, then he/she will never be curious. Addicts who have recovered can also play a vital role here. They can come forward and tell others about how they have suffered. If the real picture is brought to light then it will be easy to prevent the spread of drug addiction. And prevention is always better than cure.