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         Volume 10 |Issue 13 | April 01, 2011 |


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Star Diary

Berserk Boys

A few weeks ago, an older brother of mine was going to attend a job interview at Banani. He recently completed his MBA from a private university and was incessantly looking for a job. As the job vacancies are not sufficient compared to the growing number of jobseekers, he, like others, became much tensed about his career.

Finally, he was called by a corporate house for a job interview. The day he was going for the interview via a bus, a set of students of a renowned college waved their hands to halt the bus to get in, when the bus was crossing the Mohakhali flyover. But since the bus was a 'gate lock' service, the driver overlooked their call.

Being infuriated, those students began to stone the bus. My brother was sitting beside the window of the bus and suddenly felt a piece of stone hit his forehead. Within few moments, a flow of blood was rolling down on his cheek. With the help of other passengers, he was rushed to an nearby hospital. He was lucky that his eyes dodged the stones. But unfortunately, he had missed the opportunity to meet the long cherished job-interview he had managed. It was the futile, despicable agitation and rampant attitude of those perverse students that not only left him physically injured but blighted the image of their own institution.

Ashim Kumar Paul
Government Edward College

Think Before YOU DO

After a sad, disappointing and heart-breaking defeat to South Africa in the ICC World Cup 2011, my interest in the tournament had vaporised. But, my misery did not end with that match! Nowadays, whenever I walk by the streets of Dhaka, the bill-boards, banners, festoons and flyers wishing and glorifying the national cricket team of Bangladesh stare at me and remind me of the fact that the Tigers are out of the greatest cricketing event! The other day, I was walking on the footpaths of Kazi Nazrul Islam Avenue when I saw a huge bill-board saying, “Ebar darun khelbe Bangladesh” (Bangladesh will play awesome this time) and the irony was that Bangladesh was already knocked out (pretty badly) from the tournament. A couple of days ago, I was in the Baily Road and a huge banner wrote “Tigerder gorjon shunbe prithibi” (the whole world will hear the roar of our tigers) and unfortunately we, the tigers, couldn't even open our mouths with joy, let alone roar with pride. Through the last one week, such placards have been attracting my attention and making me think that why we didn't write anything about the other teams or why there wasn't enough billboards glorifying cricket-the sport itself, of the talents of other participants in the tournament. Had we done that, had we thought that we might not achieve what we aspire to in this tournament, these billboards cheering the Bangladeshi Cricket team would have seen less embarrassing and funny now.

Ishaqul Zabid
Eskaton, Dhak

A Little Adventure

Being a fourteen-year-old girl, Dhaka city is sort of a haunted old castle for me according to my parents. Well that's the way I feel about the city when my parents put on myriads of restrictions on me being out after the evening, even with my friends, if not by myself. I don't blame them; the way crime is taking place bluntly and boldly under the daylight, who knows what can happen to this 'fragile' little girl at night if she's out there! But part of being a teenager is to be disobedient to the rules imposed or being kind of anti-establishment or trying to break the convention; again, that's the way I feel when my parents lecture me about me not being loyal enough to the family. So, hanging on to my teenage attributes, a few days ago I decided to have a feel of adventure. It was a long weekend and I had nothing to do. None of my friends had time to hang out and none of my family members had time to cheer the awkward teenager in the house. It was one or two am in the morning and my family was deep asleep. I snuck out of the apartment, took my bicycle from the parking lot and went out to venture the 'haunted castle'. And it was fun! I was scared but it was thrilling. I saw a silent, rather empty Dhaka city with no traffic or rush of thousands of people. The air was fresher and didn't smell of petrol or octane. A few vehicles roamed the highways; a few people were even racing with their glamorous car. No one bothered me or teased me; I guess no one could imagine that it was a girl on the bike! I roamed around for an hour and a half and snuck back to my room without capturing any attention! My parents don't know of the event until now and unless they read this piece, there is no way they are ever going to learn about my little adventure.

Cynthia Simin
Dhanmondi, Dhaka


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