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This is a story I wrote out of sudden impulse. I was sitting idle, in one fine April afternoon....didn't have much to do. suddenly the idea hit me, and within the next 2/3 hours, the story was complete. I lvoed writing it, and I think it's a good story. I sent this one to Daily Star, but they didn't publish it. Haha. to hell with the newspapers....I got the internet!

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Jack was standing in front of a shiny BMW car. It's a black car, and the glass was also black. The raindrops falling on the windshield was looking awesome.

"Damn, the wiper dude'll have a tough time wiping off the raindrops tonight".

"Hmm...can I even call the wiper a dude? Dunno..could be yes"

Okay, enough of self talking, thought Jack. He remembered, there used to be a proverb in English, that'd say raining cats and dogs. But modern English has progressed, and cats and dogs got substituted by Torrents. Does it have any resemblance with bittorrents? Who knows? Who cares? Don't be afraid of the elements, said the commercial. But once his faithful M65 got exposed to water, and the cell phone hanged. It's kinda irritating. As if Bill Gates wasn't enough, with the damned blue screen error. The blue screen error goes away with Windows XP, and now comes hang-incidents in cellphones! A deep breath escaped himself. The sigh was a tribute to a longtime, retired friend--the 3310 that is now resting in peace, safely deposited inside the confines of the last drawer of the cabinet.

"It served me well. In sleep, I slapped it off the bed. It fell down with a bomb-dropping noise, and yet it was working. It was faithful in waking me up, with the repeat alarms. The vibrator never failed--5 years have passed, and it's still as good as a new handset.

But.......

"I was in a group gossip, and suddenly the blunt and ancient monophonic tone came out from my pocket. Joe was just in the middle of a good joke..people were just preparing for the "laughing" part..and then rang the phone. Suddenly I became the killjoy of the group. People started giving me weird looks".

The same thing got repeated again, in another occasion, and Jack got the new phone. Not being afraid of elements, Jack brought out his cell, and pressed the first few digits of the number that he has been dialling for the last 5 years. The first number he called was this same number. He thought "Hey, both of us are loyal customers. We are using the same number for 5 years. At least we got something in common". He pulled off this joke successfully, in multiple occasions. The thought brought smile in his face, perhaps for the first time in the whole evening.

3 hours, he thought. Standing in the rain, getting wet, and trying to reach that particular number. All in vain. He called the home number, and got the reply "She's not home, call later". He tried to reach the cell again, but heard the boring t-mobile voice.."Sorry, blah blah blah can't take your call now. After the tone, kindly leave a message or you can just hang up".

"Bitch...I know I can hang up"

Robert Bruce and the Spider Web story was no longer inspiring. He was drenched, from top to bottom. The cell was still in the warranty period, but he wondered whether he'll get a replacement/free servicing if they get to know that he deliberately let it get wet.

A car screeched by. A speeding Jag. There was a momentary vision blurring, due to the bright headlight. After the car got away, Jack found himself wet to another extent. The driver was kind enough to speed over a puddle of water, and the water was dynamic enough to jump up and attack him.

"Damn, I'm going home. Let Susanne and that BMW dude rot in hell"

"More water pouring down, or more water running down the drains?

More water pouring down, or more water getting lost in the form of tears?

More cats and dogs, or sorrow?"

He saw him get in, but he never saw him come out, and the cell was turned off. Maybe, forever? "5 years is a long time, and its about time I change my number, too."

This story is a tribute to the famous Beatles song, "No Reply". And as dheki shorge geleo dhan bhane, my story also has a lot of mobile stuff in it! Pardon me sire :D"

Board Walking

This is a series of writings dedicated to the different board games that I've played, throughout my life.

Board Walking...(part 1)

I spent the early 8 years of my life in Saudi Arabia. I lived in a small town called Dammam. The Bangladeshi community there wasn't that big, and the first embassy school was not established before 1988. As I didn't have friends to hang out with, I spent my childhood with matchbox cars and an Atari 800XL console . I also had a Monopoly board. But Monopoly was a game which couldn't be played without a partner. I think someone gifted me that board on my Birthday. I was wondering how to play and stuff (mind you, I was only 7 years old then), and then came the savior.

One friend of my dad didn't have a job at that time, and he decided to stay in our place and pursue the job-hunt from there. During this period, which lasted more than a month, we played Monopoloy and spent wonderful times. He always picked up the car stating "A car is what I'd really like to have now, so I'm picking the car". I dunno what made me such a humble kid, but I'd always ask him first to select a token. Here's a secret--on every instance, I wanted to pick the car, and I wished that he'd select some other token, for at least once. But nope, that never happened. Was I being sympathetic towards a jobless guy? Hehe, probably not. Maybe some child psychologist would like to take a deeper look into this.

After so many years, while writing this, I am realizing that I actually loved the uncle a lot. He was really fond of cars, and his favorite brand was Mazda. He even had an imaginary wife, called "Mazedabegom". He used to say that he'll introduce me to his wife, soon. But that never happened. I never thought that it's a lie, or a joke. We kinda lost contact after leaving KSA in 1989.

After another long break, I got to meet him again. He was now settled in BD, and he invited us in his true marriage. I almost forgot the Mazdabegom thingy, but it all came back after receiving the wedding invitation. I particularly remember this wedding, because this person embraced his mother and started a hysterical cry; just before entering the car which was supposed to take him and his wife to his home!

According to my mother, she never saw a guy cry on the day of marriage before. Actually marriage can be a crying incident for a guy. Because, after marriage, a son can't remain that close to his mother. Wife becomes first preference, and I've seen a lot of people acting weirdly with their parents for the sake of keeping their wives happy. This is sad. The parent's should also be less cruel towards the girls who leave their homes and join a totally new family. My mother had to go through a lot of obstacles. I've closely observed both families, and I must say, one is the opposite of the other. It must've been really hard for her to adopt with all the eccentricities of my dad's family.

As an example, in my mother's, Daal is eaten at the end of a meal. The sequence is like this:

1) Rice with dry vegetables,

2) Addition of vegetable curry

3) Fried Fish/Fish curry/Meat/Egg

4) Daal and rice only (none of the above gets accompanied with this combo)

In dad's:

1) Rice, Daal, vegetable curry (they never eat dry vegetables)

2) Fish curry/fried fish/meat/egg + daal

So my mother definitely had a tough time adopting to the fact that daal can come first! I can go either way, but whenever I tried taking daal in the beggining of a meal at my mother's, my maternal uncles would give me weird and surprised looks. As if, eating daal is a taboo!

Similary, at my dad's, I'd get weird looks if I rejected a daal offer(!) at the beginning of a meal.

Anyways, this was not actually what I wanted to write about. I wanted to write about board games and their infleunce on my life (lol). I spent a major portion of my childhood nibbling with fake cash, which made me really comfortable with real money (later on)(I believe).

That was not a great training. I spend way too much :s

So my first 8 years saw only one board game, i.e. Monopoly. I don't really remember much details, but the most expensive and sought after property was called "Mayfair" or something like that. I used to pick up the Hat token, but I used to crave for the Car. When I did get the chance to play with others (which never happened in KSA), I always picked the car.

The car is my favorite Monopoly token!

Will resume later...

Board Walking...(part 2) : Chessassination!

My dad had a magnetic chess board. The board was like a box. One could fold the board and lock it. The chess pieces could be stored within the box. Dad also had a backgammon board, which he never played. He, however, did play chess with some other people living in the same locale. The community consisted of some other Bangladeshi families, and also a few Bangla speaking Pakistani people.

I didn't know how to play chess, and nobody was interested to teach me. But the chess pieces (especially the rook and the knight) always intrigued me. When we came back to Bangladesh, one of my uncles taught me and my cousin (son of my Father's sister, as in fufato bhai) the art of chessplaying. Cousin received the chess set as a birthday present, and it became a duty for us to learn the game.

We spent a lot of time playing the game. Two 12 year old kids sitting on the floor, playing chess, giving frowned looks at each other, and passing momentary jokes--how weird a sight was that? Our favorite arenas included grandmother's bed, fufu's bed, chacha's bed, the verandah floor, roof, the small place in front of the entrance, etc. Most of the time we'd get driven out of the indoor locations, and we'd end up in the verandah and roof, quite a lot. It was quite comfortable playing chess in the verandah and roof during winter. The soft rays of the sun gave us ample pleasure to play for long hours.

I can't help smiling while I am writing this. To get better in the game, I used to play chess with my maternal uncle and another cousin (son of my mother's elder sister, as in khalato bhai). They taught me the "3 move check mate" trick. I still remember the surprised look in Rousseau's face, when I first applied the trick and won the game within 5 minutes. Soon his surprise turned in to anger, and like most other 12 year old's, he kicked the chess board and said I was cheating. I said no I am not, and I can do it again. So he gave a determined look, and sat down again. However, that 2nd game ended up with him stating that "I'm taking my board back home, and we won't be playing this game again." He lived a few houses away, but still quite near our's. Our's sheltered most of my grandmother's family. Almost alll of her children lived in our 3 storey building, occupying 5 out of 6 apartments of the building.

As all the games would take place in our building, I was responsible for keeping the board. But that ended that day. I kinda missed playing chess, but I never got myself one. He was the only person with whom I could play, and thus there was no point in getting another board. I don't quite remember how the problem was resolved, but after sometime, we started playing again.

I consider myself to be a lucky kid, because I spent my childhood with two joint families. Today's generation will never now what they missed from not being able to be part of a joint family. Joint family taught me some really important lessons. Among these lessons, perhaps the most important one is the tolerance ability.

Anyways, that was the story of chess. I competed in a chess competition during college, won one game, got 2 walk overs and lost 2 matches. Maybe I'll get back to that one later.

Board Walking...(part 3) : Round The World in 80 Minutes

"Desh Ludo"was a nice game. I guess not many of today's kids will even know what that game was all about. Basically it's a dice and token based game. The board had a world map in it, and almost 108 major cities from different countries and continents were marked in the map. Each city was numbered, and each of them were connected via imaginary roads. The game had a simple logic. The first person to go from Dhaka to Mekka would win.

The game started from "nowhere". Yes, all the players would be in "nowhere" (which I loved to refer to as Moon, or anywhere else in the universe) and they would throw the dice to get a 1. As soon as someone got a 1, he'd get an "International Visa",which'd allow them to travel around. The word Visa was actually mentioned in the game instructions. There was no separate manual for this. The instructions were adequately detailed, and printed on a box positioned in the lower right corner of the board (Just beside Australia, and below the Indian Sea).

The board was quite big. It was about 3 feet wide and 2 feet long. The map was nicely decorated with different colors used for separating different parts of the world. It was still USSR era, and that was reflected in the map. Anyways, players would throw the dice, and their respective tokens would advance accordingly. The tokens were made off cheap plastic, and the shape was round, with a couple of circular layers within (sub circles). There were caption boxes set against several locations on the map. When a player's token arrived at such a location, he or she would have to follow the instruction written in that caption box.

As an example, in Colombo (capital of Sri Lanka), it said "Colombo ashiya steamer joge Sydney gomon ". This means your token would take the naval route, and go directly to Sydney (from 9 to 15, as far as I remember). So before their turn, players would always hope for dropping by such "bonus" locations. However, all locations were not pleasant. In Algeria, you fall victim of a Sand storm, and you can't go anywhere for the next 3 turns. It was damn frustrating to sit idle while all other players would gallop around merrily. The worst peril was a location just 3/4 steps before the final destination. It'd send you all the way back to the beginning location. Basically that was the most undesired and unfortunate case in the whole game. The stated reason was "Omuk karone mrittu. Abar shuru korun". So whenever people got around that location, they'd start saying prayers!

The game involved a lot of fun.

"Brazil ey rubber chash korte giye lokshan. 3 na pora porjonto opekkha korun".

"Gari durghotonay ahoto. Switzerland er Zurich Hashpatal ey chikitshar jonno gomon korun. 2 na pora porjonto opekkha korun".

"Babylon er shunnoddan dekhe montro mugdho. 2 chal boshe thakun"

It was an educative game as well. Thanks to the game, when I was in class 5, I knew a lot of cities, and I also knew the location of those cities. The map was quite accurate. But it did gave a false impression that all the cities of the world are actually linked by roads.

I got two atlas books on a birthday, and soon after the guests had gone away, I tried to match the real map with the Desh Ludo map. It was fun. I am really thankful to this game. It injected a liking for geography in to me, and based on this liking, I moved on to other things like knowing the flags and currencies of different countries. And yes, I am no nerd. I did these things out of plain curiosity and it was a hobby, not a ritual.

I kept the board with me for a long time, but at end of my school life, I didn't have any partners to play with. My regular partners, the cousins, got tired of the game, and moved on to other more attractive games. One day, while reshuffling our rooms, the board was cramped under a bed, along with a lot of other stuffs. The next time I saw it, it was torn by the middle, and we had to trash it.

It was a sad day for me. Genuinely a sad day. Be it a silly board game, but I had a lot of emotions with it. It's been many years since I saw a Desh Ludo board, but when I close my eyes, I can still visualize it.

I've heard that this game was actually copied from some English board game (Risk or something), but I always liked to think that it's an innnovation by some unknown Bangladeshi person. It was a source of pride for a 10 year old kid. I don't want to take away that pride by googling and finding out the origin of the game.

I think I'll go and look for a Desh Ludo board in the markets. After all, nostalgia shouldn't be ignored.

Board Walking...(part 4) : We're In Scrabble!

My mother has two sisters, an older sister and a younger sister. The husband of the younger sister, our choto khalu, is a very nice person. Compared to the other two jamai's (my dad and my boro khalu), he was quite different. First of all, he was young, energetic and athletic. He pleasantly lacked that "murubbu" bhaab, which is annoying. This khalu and his family spent their lives abroad for quite some time, on and off.

I had two hang out gangs during that phase of my life, one at home, and one at my Grandmother's (Home of my mother's parents). I'll call them "home" and "granny's" from now on. These references are technically incorrect, because my home was also "granny's", as my father's mother, as in dadu also lived with us. Anyways, at my granny's, my cousin and my youngest mama was my gang-partners. Mama being the senior one was the leader, and we were faithful followers. We used to do a lot of things for passing time, ranging from reading books to listening music. One day, choto khalu gave us a Scrabble board, and taught us how to play the game. Things changed drastically. We started spending all our time playing scrabble.

We used to split ourselves up in 2 teams, one would be me and mama, and the other would be my dad and my cousin. My dad wasn't really interested in these shoshurbari visits. We'd usually go there on Thursday afternoons and return on Friday evenings. After returning from Saudi Arabia, that was kind of a regular routine. He'd spend most of his time reading the newspaper (infact, memorizing it, literally!) and or reading books that were scattered here and there. Yeah, he'd read Tin Goenda books, too--just to kill boredom. But since the arrival of Scrabble, dad also found a good way of spending time.

Why I never paired with my dad? I can't really tell the reasons now...it's been a while. But during that time, these teams would appear the most logical choices. Oh yeah! There was one reason. My dad could never forget the fact that he was my dad. Hence, I'd get scolded every now and then. Maybe it was a 3 letter word, or maybe it was taking some more time--whatever. I always had some fault, and I needed to be pulverized instantly. I don't have much grievance against him. All these scolding sessions throughout my childhood has made me a scold resistant person, and I have learnt the wonderful technique of putting words through one ear and kicking them out off the other ear instantly. Hehe....

It won't be a complete story if I don't describe my relationship with this mama. I don't like mentioning names, as you might have noticed by now. I spent the first 9 years in KSA, but after that, I kind of grew up with him. Both of us were proud Scorpios, and both of our first favorite band was Scorpions. Scorpions was the band that really got me in to music. My granny's was a music loving family. Almost everyone liked music, and my two younger mamas were more than connoisseurs. They inspired me, and I picked up the heritage.

Hehe I used to think that people who have the starsign Scorpio were supposed to be called "Scorpions". I loved associating myself with that lovely(!) species.

I was mesmerized by the game Scrabble. I'd eagerly wait for "that next travel to granny's", not for meeting the folks, but for playing scrabble. I had a vocabulary rich enough to ashame lots of grown ups, thanks to Sesame Street and all the cartoon shows. This made the teams quite balanced. Infact, we were a bit stronger in a number of aspects. My father was way experienced than us. He is surprisingly good at English. Even today he manages to surprise me by using words that'd be totally alien to an average Architecture/Engineering background person.

Sometimes we'd made up words! Hehe, words that sound like a word, but are unknown to us, that is. Events like these needed to be verified via dictionary. That was the time when I first came across this marvellous book. I'd eagerly take up the task up finding out the words. That was a good training, cause I never felt uncomfortable with a dictionary when I actually needed that book for study purposes. As these imaginary words became superfluous, a rule was set upon mutual agreement. If a word couldn't be found in the dictionary, the team will lose their turn.

By the way, the team concept was that mine's and mama's points would be added together for the team's score. Sometime there'd be a 1vs1 game, too, where two person would jointly suggest the words. Pardon me for not describing what Scrabble is, it's a game where people are given 8 tiles, and different alphabets would appear on the tiles. Each tile had a distinct score, and these letters were to be strategically placed on the board. There were different options like "Double word score", "Triple Letter Score", etc. So if you managed to make Jaguar, and your J falls on a Triple letter score, your score for J with triple. After making a word, you could refill your deck with taking the same amount of tiles from a bag, without looking in to the contents. The game went on until all the tiles were finished up. The game would also stop when there was a stalemate, i.e. no more possible moves.

Later on, I was allowed to bring the board to my home. After numerous pleading events, and when my gang partners kind of lost interest in it. I taught the game to my paternal family, and they liked it, too. But things were less colorful here, and more formal. Elders couldn't stand the fact that I, a 10-12 year old lad can beat them in an educational game. So that never went too far. And there was my chess partner cousin as well. He wouldn't even want to play with me later on. He said I was too good, and I didn't feel good about it at all. It was like "Why the hell did I have to be so good? Now I'm out of partners!". Yes, I was pissed off.

I still love this game. I did play online Scrabble for a month or two, but it's turn based, and too much slow for me.

Board Walking...(part 5) : Caromba!

Carom board was not one of my favorite games, mostly because I was really bad at it. But it was an interesting game. For some reason, I used to find a lot of resemblance between Carom board and billiard. I used to know the game as billiard, not pool. However, now, after knowing the difference, I can see that the game is more related to pool. Anyways, why the resemblance? Because both in pool and carom, the balls (guti's, in carom's case) needs to be arranged in a pre-defined manner. In Carom, the striker needs to hit the arrangement of to begin the game. And similarly, in Billiard, the first player hits the arrangement with the cue ball (the white one) in order to start the game.

In pool, you add ballspin, and there's also a similar concept in Carom. In pool, you need to "pocket" all the balls of a type (striped or non-striped) in order to win. The first person to do so wins the game. In the traditional carom game, there are white and black gutis, and one red guti. All the gutis (tokens) are of circular nature, with a few layers within. A "striker" is used for aiming at the other tokens. The game board is a huge, wooden square board. You have four holes (pockets) at the four corners, and there is a somewhat complicated layout in the middle. The gutis need to be placed in an organized manner upon the layout. The red guti is placed in the middle, and three lines of white gutis are connected with it. The black gutis are scattered around this thing. A strategically and skillfully aimed first strike can pocket the 3 white gutis residing at the ends of the lines. That was one move for the masters of the game.

The player who strikes first gets white, and the other one gets black. Similar to pool, the person who pockets all the tokens of a particular color. along with the red one wins the game. If one pockets the red, he has to follow through with a guti of his own color. If failed, the red is returned back on the board. A person can keep on getting strikes until he keeps on pocketing at least one of his gutis. So theoritically, it is possible to finish the game without even letting the opponent touch the game. But I never seen such a match in my life. Maximum four players can play this game, with 2 people in each team. There is an "allowed striker placing area" for each player. You'll have to place your striker within this marked space, connected by 4 large circles and 2 straight lines placed above each other with equal distance between them.

I don't know anything about the origin of this game, but whoever invented it must've thought a lot before coming up with the final game board. Such a simple setup, and yet demanding so much strategy and skill! There were so many moves, and so much to do.

There was also a variant of this game, where 4 players could play independently. We used to call the game "Kolagach", that is Banana Tree, for a somewhat logical reason. This time around, the gutis were placed alternately, above each other. As far as I remember, there were 8 white and 8 black gutis. So the setup was like this:

W, b, w, b, w, b, w, b, red, w, b, w, b, w, b, w, b

White was pointed as 10, and black as 5, and red as 50. The person collecting the most points would win that round. But there was another aspect of this game, the aspect of making someone "fokir" (bankrupt). How this worked? After each game, all the person was supposed to contribute the same amount of tokens as the lowest earner received. If a person didn't earn anything, he'd get knocked out. And if he earned only 5, others would contribute 5 each, and the next game would have a 20 point stake. The game would continue up to everyone other than the winner becoming fokirs. Hehe..

In this game (Carom Board as a whole, not Kolagach in particular), dad would become my partner. I didn't have a carom board at home, but my uncles had one. The stage for the games would be Granny's, and this was the time when we stopped playing scrabble. I hated the fact, and I tried to lure the people towards scrabble. But my efforts weren't fruitful. I never became good at this game..never. I watched curiously and somewhat jealously(is that a word?) while others pocketed the gutis. I could seldom pocket gutis, and I was really bad when it came to pocketing distant gutis. So I had to be on constant scoldings from the paternal side :-

There was another aspect of the game. Sometimes the board would get too dry and stagnant. Kinda like a cricket pitch without grass, no bounce, and all balls coming low. In those times, "Boric Powder" was sprayed throughout the board, and the interface got more slippery, and it was easier to pocket the tokens. Sometimes when Boric Powder was not available, flour was applied. Special emphasis was given on the areas surroundint the "pockets". It was really frustrating to see gutis popping out of the pockets!

Later on, I got a carom board on my birthday, and I used to play it a lot at home, too. But again, I couldn't do well either. The carom board was around for quite a while. Eventually arcades and outdoor games came in, and it went to the back of a door. Oneday, the carom board was sold off to some scrap dealer, along with a lot of other wrecked furniture.

I didn't even think about it then, but now I am feeling kind of sad.

Lunch Is Beautiful

Chapter 1: The Diligent Postman

It was a bright and sunny morning, and the bag I was carrying was not that heavy. In the morning, when I was going through the day's load, I was quite amazed to find a letter that was actually sent to me. It was uncle Francis, using his trademark blue envelope with a two shilling cat stamp. I always wondered why he preferred blue for sending mails. I could take the mail inside my pocket, and forget the duty, but I decided to drop by my home! I loved the dazzled look in my wife Catherine's face, when I handed over the letter to her. Without explaining anything, I left home. The explanations can wait, but the duties cannot.

Some free-happy-jolly guy was playing an enchanting tune using a mouth organ. While listening to the tune, I didn't notice that I was actually walking on the road. I came back to senses when I heard the shrieking of a couple of angry horses, and also some gentle curses from the coachman. I peeked inside to see the lovely face of an embarrassed young lady. She had an apologetic look in her face. Perhaps she wasn't that busy as to let the coachman intimidate unmindful pedestrians.

She probably has a date, I thought. She was all dressed up, and the posh restaurants were not too far away. Soon I reached Mr. William's home. I liked this person. He's young and he gave me a 10 franc note when I delivered that special mail. I don't know what was written in that mail, but as soon as he tore down the envelope and read through a couple of lines, his face got lightened up like a dozen of 100 Watt bulbs. He reached out for his moneybag, and handed me the note without even looking at it. Well, receiving tips is not something which I can do everyday. Most people don't even bother considering a tip. To them, no news is good news. I was quite surprised, and since then, I've been praying everyday so that he gets another letter from that special person. Alas! That day never came.

Chapter 2: The Bar

Bartender: "Trust me, cleaning liquor glasses can be as much fun as pouring wine and drinking them."

James (whispering): "Yeah, yeah! The phrase grapes are sour was invented just for describing yourself!"

Customer 1: "James! (Loud) Come over here...I ordered my bottle of champagne at least 15 minutes ago"

Bartender: "Sorry Sir, it won't happen again"

Customer 1: "It better not happen! You're not the only one with the best champagne, are you?"

James lost his father when he was eight years old. His elderly mother already gave birth to 3 boys and 2 girls. The girls died very young, one son went to the army, and the other just got lost one day. She was left with James, apparently the sole non-bright member of the family. She didn't have enough money to send James to a school, and she wasn't that interested either. So James ended up in Julio's Bar as an errand boy. 10 years have passed, and James got promoted as the head waiter. Julio, the bartender and owner was more than pleased on this cheerful lad, and he also trusted him a lot. Julio didn't have a family. To him, the bar and its staffs were the family, and he relied a lot on them. He always used to say "Customer is the boss". Agree to whatever he says, but make sure he leaves happily and returns again the next day. Julio was facing a lot of competition from some of the newer, somewhat modernized bars and restaurants. The concept of bars was quickly fading away, with more restaurants serving meals as well as drinks. Julio did have some snack items, but he didn't focus on those items much. Change is needed, he thought.

As Julio finished talking with the aggravated customer, he saw De Metz enter the bar. John De Metz was a general to Joan of Frank, but our De Metz was just a general to the Post De Franc, as in French postal service. As he handed over a one franc note to him, he came to know that the shipment of exclusive grape wine from versaille will be delayed by 2 weeks.

Damn! I'll lose at least ten customers who never drink anything other than grape wine!

Meanwhile, James was talking with De Metz.

"Hey mailer boy, where you'll be off to now?"

"I don't know, I just have a few mails to deliver, and it's only 11 AM. Looks like it'll be a boring day for me".

"Got any mails from my fiance?

"Sorry, no."

"Can you please check again?" Your bag looks quite heavy, there must be one mail from her, hidden somewhere within".

Metz started ransacking the bag. He found a thicker than usual mail. After a closer examination, it was revealed that it was actually two mails stuck together. Seeing this, James got excited. Metz couldn't hide his happiness, but the reason for this happiness had nothing to do with James. He actually discovered a mail for Mr. Williams, which meant 10 francs assured.

Chapter 3: Comète

They say his ancestors served for the chariot warriors of the great Roman emperor, Julius Caesar. Now, here in year 1899, it sounds quite unbelievable to find a descendant to someone who lived in between 100-44 BC, be it a horse or mare. But few people doubted the royalty that surrounded Comète, the dark colored moody horse. When Comète first came to this part of the city, he was a stray, wild horse. Many tried to domesticate him, but he'd just kick them away. But Pedro was different.

While others tried a carrot and stick policy, he broke the stick and offered him something better than mere carrots. The common people watched in amazement as together Pedro and Comète become best buddies.

That was a long time ago, thought Pedro. We had a lot of fun together, didn't we? Said Pedro as he rubbed Comet's back. He never had to use the lashes on Comet, but the other member of the 2 horse stagecoach often needed lashing. For some reason, Comet never had a steady partner. On most occasions, the other horse would never be able to keep up pace with Comet, and hence Pedro to fire the poor animal. Firing a horse is not as simple as firing an employee from your office.

It hurts a lot to let go of a horse, it hurts a lot. I wonder how it will feel like, if I ever need to get rid of Comet.

Soon Pedro's thoughts shifted towards the road and the destination. Today he has a very special passenger. A beautiful young lady; perhaps the most beautiful young lady of all is on board today. He already caused some disturbance when Comet and Stormy was about to stampede the local postman. That guy never looks where he's going—that absentminded fool!

Julio's Bar was still 3 or 4 blocks away. As he was passing by an old fashioned, shabby looking house, he noticed a youth yawning; stretching his hands sideways. This crazy guy never leaves home! All day, he's sitting and scribbling on his big note book. God knows what fortune his father left him that force a youth to account for; throughout the day.

Chapter 4: Unspoken Words

Why the horses are so fast? This is why I never like riding Pedro's coach. His horses are always too fast and the journey is over too soon! I hate being locked inside the confines of the castle.

Lorna was the daughter of a nobleman, and lived in one of the few castles that were still standing intact, even after the great French Revolution and all the blood shedding.

Why doesn't he look out? Why can't he just look outside of the window, just for once? If he'd ever look out, he would see through me. Maybe through my heart, as well. Sighed Lorna. She knew it was never meant to be. The crazy youth will always be engrossed in writing, and will never look outside.

And I will never send the letters that I always write, seal inside an envelope, only to burn them in the fireplace and see them turn in to ashes.

--------------------

The wind is too strong today!

"Wham"

The feather pen, along with the ink pot dropped, and instantly the floor below became a black pond. William realized that an absence of a quick response will create a river of ink. The curtain is still white, fortunately. William grabbed the inkpot and saved the remaining ink from getting wasted.

Not much work. The best thing about this mess is that it didn't destroy my writing, and now the floor gets a long deserving mop session.

Cleaning is not an enjoyable process, but the outcome is always nice, thought Will. It's amazing how all the black spots are getting away. Where are they going? Err...actually they are making the mop black.

Disgusted and tired, Will sat down on the bed. What am I going to do with this mess? Let the mess be where it is, I'll resume writing instead.

He adjusted the curtains and resumed writing. I have a fan now! A real fan! A fan that sends me letters encouraging my writings. I will keep on writing, no matter what. An ink accident will not stop me.

William looked up once again as the curtain hit his nose. In a split second, he watched the rear end of a stage coach. That must be Pedro. Who else has a coach as fast as that? The passenger must be in some hurry. Otherwise, few would like to ache their backs riding Pedro's fast moving coach.

------------

Lorna never liked visiting these people. They behaved in the same manner, said the same words, and she'd read them like open books throughout the session. Some chit chat, mostly small talk regarding the weather and favorite flowers and their fragrance, a dance invitation (which she turned down most of the time), a bottle of champagne, and finally, We should do this again.

She smiled as she was thinking. Most of the suitors understood the meaning of this phrase. This means "You bored me a lot, and I wish we never cross paths again".

Am I that old? Do I annoy dad a lot? Why did he suddenly get crazy about marrying me off? These are some questions that she always thought about.

-------

James was watching sympathetically as Metz kept on searching for an imaginary mail from his fiancé. He couldn't wait to go to Mr. William, but he didn't want to rush Metz. It's been a while since the last mail came in. He must be missing her a lot, thought James.

Soon James was on his way towards Mr. William's home. I hope he is at home. He knew that William seldom left his home, but he also knew that when he is out, he is out for quite some time.

James was fortunate. Mr. William was still pondering over the ink mess, and he had no intention of going anywhere out.

Chapter 5: The Confusion

What's that funny smell? Thought James as he left the porch behind. He managed to sway pass the curtains within seconds. This guy is fond of locks of free falling hair, he must be! Everyone in here ties their curtains, but he doesn't. How eccentric!

"Mr. William, Sir. I have a mail for you"

William didn't seem to pay attention to the postman's call. He was too busy with his writing—his passion. I hear a voice, but it will not interrupt my flow of thoughts.

"Mr William, I got a letter from Ms ".

Before he could finish the sentence, William's excited voice stopped him.

"What! You got a letter from her, and you have the nerve to not tell me before?"

Almost jumping up in happiness, William dashed towards James. Skillfully avoiding the ink puddle, Will took the pink envelope from the mailman's hand. Now comes the best part, thought James. But the moment did not come as soon as it used to come. Will tore off the envelope and brought out the letter. A sweet fragrance filled the room. He started reading.

There was something in the letter that did something to Will. The smile was disappearing rapidly; getting replaced by a vibrant posture of anxiety, which eventually turned in to excitement. Holding the letter tightly, William reached out for the window. He was giving a confused gaze towards the sky.

Waiting a while, James silently left the room.

-----------------------

Outside, the weather was going through an abrupt change. Suddenly, the sun was gone, and the clouds started glorifying their darkened presence. James was wondering where to go next. He only had a few mails to deliver. One for the pharmacist, one for the sergeant, and that's it. But from the looks of the sky, he was not quite sure whether he'd take the risk of going to the other end of the city to reach the military camp.

Earlier that year, Napoleon declared himself as the empreror, surprising everyone; including the church. Till the last year, Churches were the supreme authority of the country. According to the christian padrey's, they were God's appointed rulers of the land. However, the brave and talented general changed the concept, and to be honest, he wasn't doing bad at all.

The proudly hoisted flag post of the army brought a sense of security and pride to all. The common people never liked the concept of bishops and fathers being kings. What's the point of having a king if he cannot carry a broad sword?

Ignoring the dark clouds, James started walking towards the army encampment.

---------

Meanwhile, William was still thinking about the letter he just received. He had a mixed emotion, an emotion split between happiness and confusion. She wants to meet me. But again, he thought Do I really deserve this attention?

The rendezvous location was one of the finest of Paris. Those were the places that have been threatening the existence of small time bars.

I like the small time bars, they are cozier.

William closed the windows; the rain was too heavy.

William felt the strong urge of having a peg of cognac. I should have Cognac at Cognac someday! The train ride to Cognac wouldn't take more than 3 hours. He once read in a book that The Ugni Blanc, called St. Emilion here, and well known in Italy as Trebbiano is distilled to make the local brandy, Cognac. Ugni Blanc is nothing other than white grapes; which are not really white, but has a crystal clear clarity.

As he heard his stomach growling, he thought Nothing can be a better meal than a slice of Camembert, a lettuce, a loaf of bread and a glass of good French wine! Thinking this, William suddenly realized that already 30 minutes have passed since his regular lunch time.

Damn, these patches of ink will stay forever, if I don't get rid of them right here right now.

As William resumed cleaning the floor, the rain kept pouring down. The outside world seemed like an abstract painting of some long deceased great artist. The sky has got a lot of crying to do today. Something really bad must have happened up above.

Is there a heaven, or a hell up there? Probably it's heaven, as most of the time we see sunshine, not rain.

As the clock approached 2 PM, William increased his sweeping pace, with thoughts of a pleasant meeting in the not so distant future filling his mind.

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Chapter 6: Lunch at Julio's

When William entered Julio's, the clock was on the verge of creating a right angle.

"Hey Willie, why so late today? I missed serving you today", Said the ever jolly Julio.

"Don't kid me, old man. You don't need a punch line to have customers like me! As long as the food is good and the music is playing, I will come to you; no matter how you treat me"

Sigh, I wish business was as good as it were, thought Julio.

"Make yourself comfortable, Willie. James will head over to you in a short while."

Julio was still thinking about the incident that happened earlier. Ms. Lorna deserted my place. She passed by, but didn't stop to have her usual meetings and a bottle of wine. I am losing customers.

As if to add insult to injury, or salt to a bleeding wound, he heard William saying

"I think this place needs some change, Julio"

"Yeah, well, what type of change?"

"Maybe you can get some nice lights, better wines, a couple of barmaids—in a nutshell, more glamour and splendor!"

"Lad, this place's got more splendor than your ancestors have seen together!"

"Maybe you're right, but my ancestors can't be your customers anymore. You need to attract new customers who expect modern splendor, not that worn out Julio style. And your food is out of fashion, too. People no longer eat cheese alone. They have things made out of cheese"

Julio wanted to say something harsh, but he restrained himself, realizing that William was actually saying the right things.

Meanwhile, William was savoring his favorite meal. The memories of the letter were distant now. He was only thinking about his new story about the lady who was a good swimmer.

------------------

Dear James,

I hope you and Catherine are doing well. I can't wait to become a grandpa. I am sure your father would be really proud of you. I am also pleased with your life and your work. Being a postman may not bring you a lot of wealth, but I know that you are leading a happy and honest life, which is of course, the most cherished achievement for a youth living in Paris. At least that is how your old fashioned uncle sees it.

You may be aware of the fact that the recent change in politics has brought fortune to many of us old war veterans. I am now owner of one of the new, crazy Italian cars. The cutie can run at the force of four horses. It has a 679 cc engine, and it even uses the new metric system to measure its capability. It can go 35 kilometers per hour. If you are wondering, it's the same as about 22 miles. Amazing isn't it? I wonder whether Pedro's horses can be half good. It makes me even proud to know that the car is one of the 25 Fiat 4HPs that have been manufactured in the factory on Corso Dante, by some 150 workers.

Speaking of Pedro, I must say, I really miss Paris. It was a wonderful trip I had last year. It kind of saved me from the loneliness I often feel. People here are cold. They are too busy with their own lives to give a lone widower some company. But Parisians are different people.

Is there some venture that I can adopt in Paris? As I said earlier, I have some extra fortune to spend now. Although the car cost me a lot, I still have enough to invest in a good venture. Please let me know soon. Even if you don't have a good word to share, I think I'll come over to your place sometime next month.

Give my regards to Catherine.

Goodbye

Uncle Francis
p.s. Adding a photograph of the prized possession.

---------

Aha, Uncle Francis is such a nice person, thought De Metz. He was not actually a real uncle. He was a war hero, and a close friend of Metz's father.

De Metz just came back from a long day at work, and was reading his uncles letter. Catherine didn't read the letter first, she never did that. But Metz always felt an urge to share things with his life partner. I share everything, thought Metz.

"What can I say to Uncle? Do you know of any good business prospect?"

A smile escaped Catherine's face. She knew that her husband was not actually expecting an answer from her. He was the question to himself. Surprisingly though, she spilled out

"You can ask Julio. He's been doing business for quite some time."

"Nah, he's too busy saving his own business now. He isn't good for new ideas".

Right then, a reality revealed itself within Metz's mind. Julio is not doing well in his business. He's been really whining a lot lately, and he's also behaving awkwardly with James and the other people.

I can ask Uncle to invest in the food business. Maybe he can open a new restaurant and earn some money. As a matter of fact, there was this new restaurant very near to Julio's which is stealing a number of his customers. The owner has a Fiat, too, and the name of restaurant seems a bit influenced by the car.

He started replying back to the letter.

Chapter 7: Trouble for Julio

James was going through a reminiscent moment. Images of his dead family members ventured his mind. The images were vague, yet strong. I deserve a better life. My fate should not depend on a crazy old bartender who doesn't want to accept the reality!

"May I come in, Mr. Julio, Sir?"

"Anytime Walter, anytime"

"I have bad news, sir."

"What now?"

"We are losing a lot of money, sir. Your books are showing losses for the last 3 months"

The old fool lost all of his regular customers, too, thought James.

"Say, Walter, what could be the reason? I never treat my customers bad. They get Julio's personalized service, and some of the best food and beverage in town."

"Well, people are not being satisfied with the local wine and food anymore. The interest in imported liquor, fancy lights, traveling singers and barmaids is growing everyday. And I beg your pardon, sir; none of these delicacies exist in Julio's."

"Sigh, delicacies! That is what has poisoned our people! Why go for imports when yer local chaps are working their souls off for brewing the best grape wine?"

Neither James nor Walter said a word. They only exchanged meaningful looks. The situation is getting worse day by day, and everyone doubted the possibilities of Julio's coping up with the new trends. He neither has the money nor the energy to turn around a dying, old fashioned bar.

By the time Julio was finished with his moment of realization, an angry thunderstorm erupted outside. It rained heavily for the rest of the day, and the day after, and also the day after were not left undamaged by the wrath of nature.

The rain washed away all the garbage, but for Julio, it was only the beginning of darkness, clouds and rainfall. For him, the storm just came, and

----------------------

3 Months Later

There were now two Fiat's in this part of the city, and De Metz was really proud for his uncle, as well as for himself. News of his uncles investment in the popular restaurant cum bar spread quickly, and lots of people headed over to the place just for the sake of getting a taste of the invested entity! Well, they were left more than satisfied, which made them returning customers. Everyone was quite sure that by the end of the year, Paris would be ruled by the Fiats!

Meanwhile, Julio was fighting an unfair war. He had to let go off most of his staffs, including the financial advisor Walter, for not being able to pay the wages. Despite of not receiving a penny for over three fortnights, James, the most trusted general stayed with him. However, a man must earn his dime and live life as it goes by. So one day, James, with a lot of hesitation and a very, very sad heart, approached Julio at around 7 PM in the evening.

The once crowded and shiny bar of Julio looked like a long retired and deported naval vessel. There was this navy galleon that was used by many brave men for chasing Pirates, stored just beside the Army base in the old storehouse. Julio's bar looked exactly like the ship. It had it's time of glory, but now it is time for burying the dying vessel. A solitary candle was glowing. It was far from being adequate; considering the monstrosity of the room.

"Julio, may I have a word with you?"

"Sure, James, go ahead. I hope you didn't come here to preach the same old idea of yours to sell off the bar and go on a different business?"

"No, I know I was wrong. This is the business for you; this is the business that is in your blood. Even if you leave it, it will not leave you."

"What is your point, may I ask?"

"You know the situation better than me. I have been your companions since like forever, and I never ever imaged, or even dreamed, that I would consider leaving you. But now the time has come."

As he was saying this, James's eyes filled with tears. The last sentence was hardly audible, and James could barely see a very sad and hurt image of Julio; the candlelight perhaps being an aide by making the image distorted.

"Where do you want to go, son?"

"I have a job offer from the Fiat's. Mr. Francis himself offered me the job."

Hearing this, Julio went totally silent, as if trying to contemplate the true meaning of the words that James just spoke.

This person, Mr. Francis, I respect him a lot for who he is. But how can I ever forgive him for ruining my business? nd now he is here to take away my son, James. Thought Julio.

Although James was not blood child, but Julio took care of him like a father. He watched him grow up as an intelligent and smart boy, and now he is an adult, and probably he wants to have a family and prosper in life.

The line of thoughts got disconnected by the sound of shoe steps. Someone was approaching the bar.

A customer? Who could it be? Nobody in this town comes to Julio's anymore. Not De Metz, Not Paulo, Not William, Not Lorna, nobody comes here.

Mr. Francis, William and De Metz appeared from the darkness, with a powerful lantern. The light illuminated the whole room. Mr. Francis soon started to speak to Julio. Both men had respect for each other. If Francis succeeded in establishing a good business, it was Julio who made that business a business.

There were lots of arguments, persuasions, hopeless looks from the younger crowd, and a lot of pleading from James. After almost 3 hours, and an emptied bottle of Champagne, all of them came out with happy and joyous looks. James was the happiest of all, and his tears of sorrow now turned in to tears of happiness. Julio gave a final look at his love, the Julio's bar, and handed over the keys to Mr. Francis.

He made him a deal which Julio could not refuse. Julio's is now an extension to his bar, and Julio is the chief beverage advisor of the fast growing conglomerate; popularly known as Fiats.

Chapter 8: Lunch is Beautiful

Somewhere in time...lucid sounds of the minstrel keeps wandering around, hitting the ears of the unsuspecting passer by. It is Paris, the world's most romantic place of all. Love is all around. You can touch it, you can smell it. Even the hoofing horses seem to fall under the spell of love. As Pedro's speedsters gallop by, the horse doesn't forget to give a wink to the mare, and the pigeons are always flying in pairs.

For the people who are in love, Foyot's has always been the best place to go for a bite and some quality time. The bartender, the bouncer and all the waiters are busy serving the customers, one way or other.

"Hey James, isn't that our lad William out there, with the lady?"

"Yes Julio! It's a surprise—this is probably the first time I am seeing him coming here at this hour of the day, let alone with a lady".

"They do seem like a weird couple. They probably have nothing in common."

"Oh come on Julio, what do you know about love? You never married, you never fell in love"

A broad smile enlightened Julio. Had it been a couple of years ago, Julio would get really angry and shout out moderate obscenities at anyone who would make a comment like that. But now he know what love is.

"Maybe I didn't have that girl-boy kind of love live like you people, but I had the love for Paris, and it's men and women. Many a boy has taken wine from me and wooed his loved ones, and even a few girls did that. Julio knows magic, my boy. You see these hands? These are magical hands".

Both of them burst out in laughter. Life was so better now.

From the corner of his eye, James noticed that the woman was doing all the talking, while William was giving startled looks at the menu. This was the first time the kid came here, and probably he had no idea about the prices. Foyot's, being Paris's best restaurant and bar had above average prices for most items, and none of the customers actually complained about the price, as there are so many other aspects of the whole eating experience here.

But James really felt sad for the poor, young writer, when the name of the first ordered item was mentioned by Solari, a young waiter.

"Salmon at this time of the year? We only have two or three fishes, and I was expecting some lord or rich soldier to utilize them. But of all the people, William?" said Julio.

Love makes people do the impossible, thought Julio.

As if reading his mind, James exclaimed "William and her? Why and how? I'd sure like to know from him how he got in to this."

The lady kept ordering expensive items like Caviere, half a bottle of first class Champagne, a Peach and finally, a generous serving of ice cream. Meanwhile, William only ordered a meager Beef chop, which was the least expensive item of all. No drinks, no desserts, no other item, and only a small piece of meat. James took over from Solari and served the meat. He made sure the meat was cooked well, and he got him the biggest piece available. When James was leaving, he heard the lady criticizing James for going for Beef, which was of course, bad for health and apparently a heavy meal. What a nerve! She is robbing the fella off of his hard earned butter, and yet she's got the nerve to scold him for having beef. Ladies...only they can do this!

Peaches were out of season, and only a dozen was imported from the farthest corners of the Mediterranean. Nobody eats Peaches here even when they are cheap and available, thought Julio.

The Tutti Frutti ice cream was also made from expensive nuts, fruits and fine quality dairy products.

After 45 minutes of painful looks and startled conversations, William started looking at his wrist watch. He even unclasped the watch at one point, and kept it on the table for a while. He finally asked for the bill.

Julio was witnessing the final moments of the soap opera from a distance. Apparently, William laid out all the money he had, and barely managed to pay the bill. However, he kept on ransacking his pockets, despite of receiving disapproving nods from James. Oh, he wants to pay the tips! He doesn't have to though...he paid a lot already. Williams face lit up momentarily, as he managed to produce 2 Francs. As he was paying the 2 Francs to a very embarrassed and sad James, the woman gave him a "what a cheap person" look.

William led out the woman and assisted her in riding Pedro's coach. She waved at him while the galloping horses took her away. William was waving and smiling.

-----------

"Hey Julio, can you tell me since when the Fiat's became the Foyot's?"

"Ah don't ask me about that. Mr. Francis was really angry when he came to know about the lawsuit from Fiat company. He was so angered and troubled that he ended up selling his Fiat to a pleasant Italian chap. Now he prefers the old fashioned horse coach".

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Finale

The wind was blowing gently. William was busy finishing the novel. He paused and looked at the floor for organizing the thoughts. The ink marks are still there. Right that moment, a horse coach went by. William could vaguely see the passenger.

Was it the same face that I crave to see? Was it the same face that makes me the person I never wanted to be? Is this my fate, to wait forever and forever in vain?

William continued writing his story.

------

I really miss him. I miss passing by his door, and giving furtive glances. Oh, the horses would never slow down. They never slowed down. Not a single day. Stupid animals.

Lorna felt like going out and doing what she always wanted to do. She wanted to take a ride and go to the place which attracts her like a magnet. But alas, the country is England and she is studying medicine.

She smiled and thought, Someday I'll use my medicine to cure him. He eats a lot of heavy meals, and he is bound to get sick.

The End

Thanks to all my readers, especially Toxic_Tears and April for encouraging me and for being patient enough to let me finish the story. This story is a tribute to William Somerset Maugham, and his short story entitled The Luncheon. This story was a compulsory read for me during my Higher Secondary, and I read it so many times that I could almost tell the entire story. If you read that story, some unanswered questions might get answered.

By the way, I had lots of fun writing this one. Hope you enjoyed it, too.

Revisiting My Teenage Crush

The title seems really corny, right? Haha..I enjoyed writing this, but I did not finish it. I wanted to write 3/4 episodes, but somehow I lost interest. This was posted in amagergaan. You need to be a member in order to view them there. So for saving you from the pain, I am posting the two parts I have written, without any editing. Maybe I will edit and finish the story this time.

I wrote this when I was a GP employee. I worked in GrameenPhone Ltd. for almost 1 year and 7 months (6th November, 2003 to 27th July, 2005).

Prologue

The last time I visited her, was like 16 years ago. It isn’t the fact that I dared to face her, nor was it that she was living too far away from my place. My friends asked me to join them, but I had to refuse because I had my finals going on. Then

I bothered my parents to take me there, but they were too busy. I had to pass out from university, get a job, and rely on fate and fate did smile upon me. My organization organized its annual convention in Sea Gull hotel, Coxsbazar. So finally I got an opportunity to see my teenage love, the whirlwind seas once again, with aging eyes. Now I realize, the seas were not my teenage crush, they were actually my childhood crush.

The journey was ten hours long. Our journey was scheduled to be started at 10 PM. However, when the bus finally started, it was 11:15 PM. There’s a prologue to the journey. I left office in the afternoon, with a tired body and mind. Had a terrible argument with my mom and dad—why? Just because they were too concerned about my journey, and they were asking too many irritating questions which I wouldn’t even like to answer when I was a six year old kid, and most importantly, I was damn tired to answer them! Anyways, like all good things must end, all bad things also end after a certain point of time. I packed up my bag, with 3 days stay in mind, and some funny stuff make their way in to my bag (a bar of soap, and a mini-towel). I started towards the home of a colleague of mine, at around 9:15 PM. He had a car, and we started out towards Gulshan at 10 PM.

It’s a totally different feeling to be able to log into your office email account at 10:30 PM. By the way, we can’t check that one outside of office. To make things more enjoying, I had most of my colleagues (at least the ones that belong to my department, the market research and development one) present.

I had to carry the heavily filled bag of a colleague, because he was in charge of something, and was roaming around aimlessly. I became a weightlifter, and instigated a severe “hand-ache”. When I finally exported his bag into the luggage compartment of one of the three big green line buses, I felt like winning a war.

There was a widespread rumor that the buses won’t have A/C, and hence we’ll be compelled to keep our windows open. So what’s wrong with that? We’d also have to receive the bonus dusts and gusts with that! However, we were lucky and powerful (!) enough to arrange for A/C busses, thought it wasn’t even confirmed the day before our journey. Corporate muscle play worked there.

The journey was full of sporadic slumbers from all the participants, excluding the poor conductor and driver. There was a CD player and TV in the bus, and had to digest some so called popular hindi film songs, and also a few Bangladeshi dramas. There were chips and drinks, but I felt the vomiting urge after while. The roads were bumpy, and I wasn’t in perfect physical condition. Thanks to God, I went through the journey without causing people distress and disgust. I’m not a guy who falls sick during journeys, but this time was an exception. I didn’t feel well at all. I was just waiting for the journey to end. I think I had some sort of good sleep at around 3 to 5 am. But after that time, I was fully aware of the surrounding sceneries.

Perhaps this was the only journey of my life when I didn’t look out of the window much. As a matter of fact, this was my first overnight journey (in a bus) as well. When I made my last overnight journey, the vehicle was an airplane, and I was a mere kid. Don’t have much memory regarding that one.

Finally, at about 9:30 AM, we landed in front of the majestic sea gull hotel. Helped the guys unloading the water bottles and virgin cola cans, and then took my bag and dragged my tired self forward. I knew I’d be sharing a room with my friend S, with whom I did my graduation and spent my whole university years. Both of us went to the reception, and after some routine stuff, we got our keys and headed for the room.

Seagull Days

Seagull is a cool bird. I don?t know why I?m saying this, but for some weird reason I feel like calling it a cool bird. Seagull is a majestic hotel; it costs six thousand taka per night to just stay in this place. Six thousand taka is approximately equivalent to $100. However, for Grameen Phone employees, there?s a 50% discount on every service. By the way, only breakfast is included within that 100 dollars price tag, you gotta pay for your lunch and or any other additional food requirements. Anyways, I didn?t have to bother a bit about money; the whole tour expense was on the company.

When I finally dragged my tired self to the 4th floor, a small verandah caught my sight. I was able to catch a nice view of the roaring sea from here. The sequence is like this?first the hotel driveway, then a narrow road, then a rectangular area surrounded by iron fences and lots of trees, and then a sea-police checkpoint. Just around that checkpoint, there remains the sands. A man without a woman is like a sea without a sandy beach!

I passed the verandah, and entered our room. I and S, best of buddies for quite some time, shared the room. Now this guy has a girl friend, who calls her after every one hour. The cellular network was down for most part of the bus journey. Thus there was an anxious girl in Dhaka, and a relieved guy in Coxsbazar. Phones started pouring in. The funny fact is, he had to terminate all the calls, and call back by himself. There was a TV, two nice beds and a small, but well decorated toilet in the room. After dozing off for some time, both of us went downstairs for breakfast. I thought I?d be dead tired, after that hell of a journey. But surprisingly enough, the ocean breeze was giving me a refreshing feeling. After hastily finishing the mediocre breakfast, I headed for the beach.

Finally, the moment came back. After 16 long years, I came near to my beloved one once again. The beach was sandy, as expected. The wind was so strong?..I felt like if I let go of myself, I might fly like superman. I wasn?t prepared for getting down to the sea, was in my jeans, had my glasses on and the mobile was also residing in the pocket. I was highly tempted to get down in the water, but couldn?t. Returned to the hotel, and had breakfast. Later on, I got to know that the breakfast was complimentary, and that?s why it sucked big time. The only memorable thing was the salt-less fried egg. Surprisingly, it was tasty.

After breakfast, I wanted to get some sleep. But as they say, you can?t always do what you want to. I changed clothes, got into some comfortable wearable, turned off the cell and headed for the sea again. This time I found myself playing amidst the wonderful waves. I was forced to drink a lot of saline water, because I tried to face the waves bravely. It was a wonderful experience, a bit salty though. I was wearing my glasses and sandals, for what reason I can?t recall at the moment. There were instances when I thought my sandals will drift away, but I managed to stick them with my feet. After some time, I noticed three strong waves were approaching from different directions. This is was just too much. When the waves were gone, I realized that something was missing. A flow of terror driven electricity swept through my spinal cord?I realized that I didn?t have the pair of specs on, which is my all time companion from year 1989. No, I?m not using the same pair, but it?s been a part and parcel of my attire since then.

I wear high powered spectacles. Without my glasses, I am literally an invalid and blind person. I was in Coxsbazar, on a three day visit, and it was just the first day?and apparently, I just lost my single pair of specs. I should?ve fainted at the very moment, right?

I?ve always considered myself a lucky person. But this was way too much incredible. When the wave faded away, and I realized that I lost my glasses, I delved my right hand underneath the water?.in a random way. The first thing that my hand came into contact was my lost glasses. It was nicely resting on the sand, with full glory. Now do you think I should become a religious person and pray regularly? Maybe I should.

When I?m writing this, the incident is still sounding unbelievable to me. The wave was very strong?and the glass was hit by its full force. I wasn?t ready for it?it hit me suddenly. The water should?ve taken my glasses far, far away. The ocean current was not static, as well. I know, someone can come up with a mundane explanation of this incidence, but to me, it?s another miracle.

After another half an hour of water-play, I dragged myself back to the hotel. One good thing about this hotel is that wherever you go, you listen to those evergreen Mozart tunes. The music keeps playing on and on and on, and on! I must say, after a while, the sound becomes addictive.

We went out in the beach once again, after having lunch and taking some rest. The hotel room was really comfortable. In fact, it was a bit too comfortable! I?ve heard about ?unputdownable? books. The bed was ?ungetupable?. That is, once I lied there, I never felt like getting up. I still miss that bed. And the air-conditioning was great, too.

Nothing much happened in whatever remained in the day. At 11 PM, I started watching WWE: Smackdown! So what did you expect me to do? Write poems? Hehe?.not this dude! The funniest thing was that Mr ?S? was continuously being bombarded by his significant other?miss calls, phone calls?I had to memorize the ringtone by force. If you have a Nokia handset, you can check out the tune, too. It?s called ?Danube?. I guess the guy himself got tired of it as well; because he changed it after returning to Dhaka. But he was enjoying the bombardments?.you?re heard of sweet sufferings, didn?t you? This was a perfect example. When it was 12 AM, the Smackdown! Finally ended, and, I decided to doze off. When I was diving deep into oblivion, the whispering sounds of romantic conversations kept on striking my ears. I think I imagined it a bit, because when I was awake, I wasn?t listening much (and I had no intention to listen as well!), but in slumber, I thought I was hearing it all.

Can't remember anything more!

Introduction to My Writings

I think I am crossing the line by even considering myself as a writer. Well, I do have a thing for writing, and I've been writing things since early childhood. My first writing was a short essay on "Horse". I was a student of class 1 then, in the Bangladesh Embassy school in Dammam, Saudi Arabia. It was not actually an essay. It was 10-15 sentences on horse. For some reason, my teachers loved my writing, and after the final exam, I was allowed to join Class III, instead of class II. That is one event that I really wanted to discuss, when I came back in Bangladesh.

"I got a double promotion. I am different".

I think I wrote about this too many times. I have a dangerous craving for being different from others.

Anyways, this is not the place for retrospection. After that, I did not write much until I got admitted in IBA. There I joined a magazine as a part time writer. Eventually I was promoted(!) to a section editor, and then to a technical editor. But unfortunately, the magazine venture was dissolved by the owner. They were losing too much money. That was a good lesson. During that period, I also managed to write a few articles in the renowned weekly "Shaptahik 2000".

My area of interest was mainly computer games, and gaming in general. I also wrote articles on hardware and software. Software review is still one of my most favorite topics for writing. I write game reviews for gamefaqs and gamespot, occasionally. There is no screening process in Gamespot, but there is a editor's panel in gamefaqs for approving/disapproving reviews.

My last published article was on a rather new magazine, i.e. Technology Today. It was on chatting. I did not collect the renumeration for that article, as I was too lazy to go up there and collect it...hehe.

I started blogging last year. Since then, I have been updating my two major blogs in amadergaan.com and blogger.com quite regularly. As days passed by, I felt the need for archiving my writings in a more organized manner. I do not dream that some day these pieces of writings will be read by the world, but when I am old and retired (and maybe retarded as well, lol), I can just go through these memories and ponder some pleasure out of them. I can also show my nati-puti (grandchildren) a documented proof of "how life was" in the yesteryears, which my parents won't be able to do.

Okay, I think I'll try to dig up some old writings of mine in the following entries. By the way, how many readers do you think I will have?

Let's see...

By the way, I will end the current story that I am working on (Lunch Is Beautiful) here as well.