The week in re(ar)view
Humans: Dying since birth

Mobile court future fines…umm, we mean plans
The mobile court's upcoming to-do list includes punishing fire hazard factories. Apparently we have a Fire Protection Act 2003 and anyone (almost everyone) violating it can be penalized. The Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association (BGMEA) has identified 169 factories that do not have appropriate fire protection. Really? You mean all those steel bars and cages that block narrow doors pose fire risk? In that case don't you mean all the garment factories because 169 just doesn't cut it.

Ain't it obvious
There should be an award for stating the obvious. State Minister for Home Affairs Lutfozzaman Babar says we should strengthen the security system. Now who would have thought of that? He focused on car jacking and formed the obligatory multi member committee that requires lots of pocket money to find out “stuff”. They need to find out the modern techniques that thieves use to change the chassis and engine numbers. Yep, thieves use modern lathes (circa 1700) to scrape off old numbers and modern hammers (circa something BC) to bolt on new plates. Of course they have people in (Bangladesh Road Transport Authority) BRTA to help fix papers. Now isn't that obvious.

Doom in the horizon
Farmers still continue to agitate for fertilizer. They blocked off Dhaka-Rangpur-Dinajpur road on 23 March to protest. A minister's vehicle was also stuck in the jam. Apparently farmers aren't right now in anyone's list of favourite creatures. Groundwater level is falling rapidly meaning less fresh water will be available for irrigation. On the flipside all the global warming means saltwater will rise eventually swamping us. That way we won't have to worry about fertilizer anymore.

By Gohkra and Mood Dude

Super mothers

I was thinking. All the mothers of this world have super powers. At least my mother really has some. Sometimes I get confused. Is she a Wonder Woman or a Super Woman? Or maybe I should call her Super Mother. She sure has mistakenly married to my father otherwise she must be seen fighting with all the JMBs and cleaning up the terrorists from Dhaka City. I mean, come on, look at them. What they do with us is nothing different from Super Woman kicking bad guys. Allow me to explain. From morning till night (even in my dreams) my super mother use her various super powers to torture me.

"Get up you moron." What I hear every morning from my mother. Of course it is the beginning. But bed seems to be most beautiful thing in my life at morning until I got hit by something on my head. What a perfect shot. She never misses. Its like wonder woman throwing her ridiculous crown.

"Are you going to sleep all morning? You have some study to do, don't you know? Everybody (her friend's children & my cousins) is going to be doctors and engineers and you are going to be nothing but a JUNK. You are........ But I couldn't hear anything and everything looked dreamy to me because of that head shot. After a while I realized my morning doze was over. I put on my Lee and my favourite black t-shirt and rushed out of home to my coaching classes for some studying. When I am out of home, it's a blessing for me. I can do whatever I want. So I am always late for home (besides who wants to go back to that Home, Sweet err…. Terror home).

"Why the hell are you late?" My mother asked just when I put my first step at home. I thought of some suitable excuse but before I open my mouth to tell that she suddenly realized why I am not in time. "I have told you thousand times not to waste time in Adda." How come she Know? She must have flied over, where I was wasting my valuable time. For half an hour after she rescued my fourteen generations, I was dismissed. At night when my home tutor came he had a rather weird look at me and said "Call your mother I want to talk about your horrible condition." The only thing I could think right then is the previous

WWE game title ''Here Comes the Pain''. When she came I thought she is going to punch me like Super Woman punches Lex Luthor. And finally at night when I close my door and bring out my phone to say goodnight to my girlfriend Super Mother appears again. She must have looked through the doors with her X-ray eyes. My taanki mara stopped before I even got a chance to start it. Now guys, these happens everyday in our lives. But we can't get rid of it because they do it for our good. But think, if one of our super mothers hit our beloved Dhaka city all the chaos will be erased instantly. RAB may have left nothing to do. Super mother will be the savior of Dhaka city. So think of it again. Isn't it great? Anyways if I write more my mother will send me to rest in peace. Oh my God!! Here she comes. Must have used her super ears.

Bye folks. Aaaaaaaaaaaaa....

By S.M.M.R. ShaoN

Sleep Softly
Sleep softly
With the morning dew
With its frosty touches
Dream anew.
I have sent the morning butterfly
Wings tainted with color
To convey my love to you
And my prayer.
Sleep softly
My adored
Dream to your heart
And worry not
For I have asked the skies
To quietly shed its tears
And the wind
To blow to your delight.
Sleep softly
My beloved
Close yourself in my arms
Let your hair lose
Let me tuck you in my heart.
I have asked the sun
To hide behind the clouds
Till your dreams are done.
And only awake
When you hear the last bird cry
When the gentle sun rays
Blotch the ground
Only awake when you feel me
Blowing to your ear
And to my kisses
Open your eyes.
By Adnan M. S. Fakir

Street Child
A gentle hand places you,
in the cradle next to me.
You are held, loved and nurtured,
while I am abandoned-- the untouchable.
You are smothered with kissed and blessings,
while I scavenged through garbage
and wandered the streets.
Your pain and your triumph
is a love one's concern,
while mine are perpetually ignored
and perpetually forgotten.
You look at me,
but you do not see me.
I am a voiceless shadow,
reduced to invisibility.
When you look at the horizon you see possibility,
while I only see empty space.
Perhaps I would have wondered at the old soul
that occupied my body,
If I had ever know what it was to be a child.

Oblivion
He sits under the shade, dusk falling.
He gazes around with soulful eye, tormented and wise beyond his years.
The city's hustle bustle,
a starling contrast with the peace that surrounds this child.
The blessed child,
the forgotten child.
The wealthy in their chic,
busily passing by with their purposeful stride.
Pitying glances here and there,
but never a second thought.
A sigh escapes from his parched lips,
almost eloquently explaining the forgotten,
unfulfilled wishes and dreams to love and be loved.
The falling darkness as overwhelming as the never-ending activity of a city
that didn't notice nor seemed to care.
As the calm is broken, in desperation,
he eyes the handbag of a defenseless old lady.
With one purposeful stride at a time,
ignoring the repulsion of a degenerate act;
He steals her meager belongings,
And shuts out his pain through one snort,
into a world of oblivion where being and forgotten no longer mattered.
By Fatima Anwar

RS Mailbx

Our mailbox gets a tremendously mind boggling huge amount of response every week. Here's the three mails we received this week. We reserve the right to edit, chop and slaughter articles and letters to our hearts content. Mail us at risingstars@thedailystar.net

Math at cricket match
I noticed something hilarious last Saturday while watching the cricket match between Bangladesh and Kenya. When the Bangladeshi team kept hitting sixes the fans started chanting, screaming and waving placards. That's typical fan fare but when sixes were hit many fans held up and waved placards that had '4', '2' and a few other non-6 numbers written on them. I guess they were doing math. Apparently the fans will wave anything. But it was an awesome match even for a non-cricket fan like me.
Ahmed Shams

Blunt chiria
Let me clarify a couple of things about Reggie's Musical Mantra column from march 2. First of all, I've seen thousands and personally know loads of Korn freaks in BD, so to call them “under-listened” would sure be an understatement. Secondly, James Blunt songs to me are the some of the most utterly ridiculous songs I've ever listened to. “You're Beautiful” is truly meant for chhechra Bangali chhokras who ogle shamelessly at any and every hot chick that passes them. The lyric goes like, she smiled at me in a subway> she was with another man> I saw your face> in a crowded place> and I don't know what to do> cause I'll never be with you. What the #@$#? If you want to listen to something soft and with sensible lyrics I'd say Keane is the best bet. You'll find their debut album Hopes and Fears in most music stores in Dhaka. Try it. If you like Oasis, U2, Beatles, Cold Play and The Cure you'll love ninety percent of their album. To Reggie I have to say, no offense meant mate and keep up the good work and fight the good fight.
Sincerely,
Nafis Khalid.

Bashundhara Baluchor
The cover article on Bashundhara Baluchor posed an interesting question. “What happens to the flood water if the riverbed is obliterated?” Well, the authority is working on a canal that will safely remove all the excess water.

Meanwhile, let's hope their “deserted” Baluchor is strong enough for next generation buildings. One good earthquake and chances are: It'll be raining damsels in distress. And by the way, this location is not just a dating heaven; others have their own way of enjoying it. Just go there and find your own style.
Mashrur Rahman

The report last week on "CUDS Inter Dept. Debate Competition" had a mistake where the writer accidental misspelled the name of the Ctg Bureau Chief of The Daily Amar Desh.
It should have been "Ahmed Kabir" instead of "Ahmed Karim".