Dhaka Diary

Wrong number
I have a friend living in Los Angles, whom I call once a month. I have a parallel phone connection with my uncle living in the house next to ours. One day when I was dialling the number of that friend of mine I heard somebody picking up the phone from my uncle's home. I figured it was my mischievous cousin and as I didn't want to be disturbed, I put down the phone. But after a while, when I picked up the phone I realised that it was my uncle who was dialling a number after I dialled mine, before even checking the line himself. After I put down the phone, the line was connected to L.A. and I heard my uncle asking my friend's auntie in LA., " Is it Tikatuly in Puran Dhaka?" I know that my uncle is still confused as to how he got connected to LA, when he actually dialled a place in Old Dhaka.
Farhan Rahman
NDC

Sharing the Alms
The other day when I was waiting for my bus in Gulshan, a poor old fellow with a grim look aroused my sympathy and I was somewhat forced by my conscience to grant him some money and therefore opened my purse to give him a two-taka note. As I was almost done with handing over the alms, another pitiable face came beside him with the same placid look. Unquestionably with a sense of empathy, I decided to share the amount between the two since I had no change at that moment. But to my utter surprise the first beggar refused to share the amount with his kinfolk, flung away my two-taka note and left the scene. The second one, in turn, did not hesitate to pick up the note with a grateful smile as if nothing had happened. Later, I was pondering on whether I would show such empathy to any beggar in Dhaka anymore.
Saad

Jubok Phone
My father was busy at work, when a stranger entered his room out of nowhere. The stranger had tattered clothes, thick rimmed glasses and was carrying a bundle of papers, which seemed like official documents. He entered the room and very confidently took a seat in front of my father. My father was a little taken aback, but still managed to ask him what he wanted. The man put the papers on the table and began to explain that he was from an NGO and was going around collecting money for poor widows and street urchins. My father listened to him for a while and then asked him to give him the address and phone numbers of the NGO. He would send some money later on. The stranger nodded and picked up his papers and walked out of the office room. After a while, my father could not find his cell phone. He realised later, that the stranger who had come to his office and put his papers and files on top of the cell phone which was lying on the desk. While leaving, he just picked up the cell phone along with his papers and left silently. So much for NGOs and helping poor widows!
MY father was busy at work, when a stranger entered his room out of nowhere. The stranger had tattered clothes, thick rimmed glasses and was carrying a bundle of papers, which seemed like official documents. He entered the room and very confidently took a seat in front of my father. My father was a little taken aback, but still managed to ask him what he wanted. The man put the papers on the table and began to explain that he was from an NGO and was going around collecting money for poor widows and street urchins. My father listened to him for a while and then asked him to give him the address and phone numbers of the NGO. He would send some money later on. The stranger nodded and picked up his papers and walked out of the office room. After a while, my father could not find his cell phone. He realised later, that the stranger who had come to his office and put his papers and files on top of the cell phone which was lying on the desk. While leaving, he just picked up the cell phone along with his papers and left silently. So much for NGOs and helping poor widows!
Kabir Shah
Dhaka Cantonement

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