How do I feel?

Somebody asked me how am i feeling today. As is the norm with our species, i didn't offer him the whole truth. "Fine" was the answer he expected and "Fine" was what he got. If it were a different world where people said what they really felt like—or more importantly, what needs to be shared—i would have elaborated on why i'm not "Fine". I might have informed him how i usually feel like an overcrowded fast train that's moving slowly. And not going anywhere in particular. Also, i wake up every morning as if i had undergone rigorous imprisonment during my sleep. My mirror had seen better faces. Of mine. Sometimes i feel like that invisible hand pushing me over the cliff. But i don't fall down because i have better days ahead... to address worse things. At times, i turn cold and blank and don't understand what's going on around me. I try to stay grounded and not get caught talking to myself. The voices in my head are amusing but they never let me interrupt them. Whatever be the reason, they just don't understand me. Sometimes i feel emptier than my bank account. I've spent better days in poetry when my verses made me the richest jerk on the planet. This was before i decided to dive into media. No wait, this was before i decided to dive into engineering. Every once in a while, my past relieves me and allows me moments to cherish. Instead of holding them close to myself, i squander them on creating one-liners i don't believe in. More often than not, I don't agree with a lot of theories floating around but i'm loath to confrontations. That explains why i don't defend myself, online or offline. However, there are instances when I can go on and on about what i could have said instead of just "Fine".

Bengali trial

Something has been going on in Bangladesh for quite some time now. People spilled out onto the streets not because they are worried about their future but because they don't want their past to be falsely represented. It's not a revolution though. Far from it, in fact. It seems apt the honour it deserves. Without getting into the nitty-gritties of this South Asian aberration—if you will—let's look at the bigger picture. No matter what happens there, B'desh will always be known as a Muslim majority nation. Albeit it's true, we must acknowledge the ground realities and distinctions between a Muslim and the Arab culture. Most of the time, they are confused to be similar. (One doesn't have to look very far for a taste of this historical baloney. By the way, the country on our west is paying an exorbitant price for the same.) To rub it in, the case doesn’t help either when a lot of these so-called Islamic countries actually aspire to be counted as an extended version of Arabs themselves. On the very contrary, Bangladesh is firmly rooted in its indigenous culture, languages (yes, there are other tongues spoken too apart from Bengali) and outlook. The restless days and nights at Shahbag Chowk in Dhaka rechristened as Projonmo Chottor or New Generation Circle where mostly young B’deshis are craving for the death of the main 1971 war crimes accused is an example. Notably, most of them haven’t witnessed the ghastly acts that eventually led to liberation. And it doesn't matter as they are hellbent on removing the stains of the past. This movement shows that there's much more to come. Especially with the youth reasserting its identity and a not-so-pleasant election on its way.

One love, two forearms

Today stands for everything loneliness sits on. In case if you are in Afghanistan, it's Valentine's Day. One of the finest outcomes of human civilization. In fact, second only to material consumerism. However, there are forever-alones lurking on this planet who don't know what to do with themselves on this specific day. Better put, they don't know what role they play—if at all, that is—in the grand schemes of romantic permutations. You can't blame them. They are singles who've got nothing to do with tennis. Their singledom manifests itself in their hands every now and then. Or fingers. Whatever. So apparently, the worst part about being single is you are single. At least it appears that way from the outside. If you're poor too, then God bless you! Being single and broke might teach you invaluable lessons in microfinancing but it doesn't provide the economy with the much-need love-me-love-you boost it annually requires in February, you see? And it is quite bizarre to celebrate Valentine's Day when you pretend to be deeply in love with yourself. You just don't know what to do. You can't blend in. That is passé. So what do you do? You become invisible to the choices that lie ahead of you. For instance, you download movies that got nominated at Oscars. You download movies that got criminally snubbed at Oscars. You somehow go through the day ignoring the colour red that dominates the visuals on your streets and in office. You wonder whether you should start sniffing around as well. Maybe it's just a one-day phase and you won't need someone tomorrow. However, single life is difficult when both your forearms hate you. 

“You are too awesome to be single!” - a girl you like who is not single

PS: Dear penis, happy Valentine's Day.