180 flipped camera

There was very little left of what he could do.

            It was past 2 in the morning and the obnoxious little creature inside his head was thumping his temples with an impossible-to-figure-out rhythm. He knew he had reached the end of the road – a road that had begun with his own ambitious heartache. He hadn’t been concentrating on the book he was holding, and flipped back a couple of pages…

            The toil that he had just been through did not leave him in a state to predict the outcome. The timeless tragedies of hundreds before him were not completely unknown to him - the hell-raiser of this brave new world had never made it a secret. The orthodoxy of the past and the yearning of the oh-so mighty future teamed up with the blistering desire to face such challenge had precipitated in his decision to “give it a shot” – or, that’s what he said to the world; but inside, he knew that this was something that he wanted to do for himself, and himself only.

            Yes, he did stick to it till the end. Did he regret it? No. Was there anything he lost? Well, the list is endless.

            But he didn’t want to be reminded of the tough pragmatism that had now been seeded inside his very core, but he secretly longed to jump back a few months and continue the journey midway again, just live through the same mistakes that had left him in such inadmissible despair – he wouldn’t change a single hyphen.

            He knew nothing would change now, and he liked it this way. He knew there was nothing to pull him out of it, but he didn’t want any such thing. All he wanted was a moment of self-appraisal.

            And all he could do now, was to wait…

These windows...they speak...

A window to a Goldsmith's shop.
The man not only works for his living here, but also lives in  this cramped room.
It is his home, and hence the window gives us an insight on the man's life.

This window is from a very old building that dates back to the British Era.
The aristocracy of the entire structure, specially the window, amazed me.
Notice the fine details of the structure.
For those living in Old Dhaka for a long time, this type of architecture is completely ordinary.
But for those outside the circle of the old town, this architectural pattern is bound to attract the eyes and appriciation.

This building too is very old, and is on the verge of breaking down any moment.
Yet, people live inside it. The windows may not give a full view of the inside world of its residents,
but to me, the windows talks about the "Naawabi" lifestyle of the people it holds within.

A short plot summary of King Lear

King Lear is yet another tragedy from Shakespeare based on the inter-family quarell and politics, and the downfall of a royal family.

   The 80-year-old King Lear of Britain decides to divide his property and kingdom between his three daughters before retiring, giving the largest share to the one who loves him the most.

   His two older daughters butter and oil him, but his youngest daughter, Cordelia, refuses to do so. King Lear - fool, as he admitted later - gets mad at Cordelia, and divides his property between his other daughters - Goneril and Regan - only, and banishes Cordelia, who gets married to the King of France.

   A lot of incidents take place, and a lot is seen and understood by Lear. He infers that Goneril and Regan had never actually loved him, but it was Cordelia who loved him truly.

   After going to banishment himself - along with his fools and loyal friend Kent - Lear hear that Goneril and Regan plan to kill him. However, he soon meets Cordelia and apologize to her, admitting that he was a fool to have banished her previously.

   Later, Goneril understands her mistakes and pisons Regan and kills herself too. Soon afterwards, Cordelia is executed, and Lear dies while mourning over her corpse.

   The play consist of many other hinge characters, namely Cornwall, Albany, Gloucester, Edger, Edmund, Oswald, etc. They play an important role in the entire set up of the play.

   I felt that the story-line was overly complicated, with many insults, many misunderstandings, and many trecheary.

   However, on the basis of the simple and most important concept that I have described above, the play was wonderful. And if I am to choose a favorite character, it would definitely be Kent, who had showed his loyalty to Lear through to the end.

My apologies

Dear visitors,

I have not been able to post anything recently. I had my GCE A-Levels exams, and had been preparing vigorously. Hence I apologize to my regular visitors for not having served them. I am now set again for the posts. Please keep on checking regularly for updates. Thank you for your patience.

Arman Rahman Khan.

The Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger

"The Catcher In The Rye" is an exceptional novel that talks about the emotional difficulties that a teenage boy comes across while turning to age.

            The internal conflicts of Holden Caulfield was very much vocal throughout the story and serves as evidence of Holden's disturbed psychological state.

            He flunked out of school, went to New York, where his family lived, but started living in a hotel instead of going home. He used to explore parts of the city, and especially loved to see the ducks in a lagoon in central park.

            However, he went home one day, but met only his younger sister, Pheobe, whom he loved dearly. he informed her that he would go away somewhere else to become a catcher in the rye. In the end though, he does not leave.

            Now, lets talk about the symbols. Holden's red hunting hat was a symbol of his individuality - he used to wear it all the time, and it has been mentioned quite a lot of times throughout the story. The ducks in the lagoon was a symbol of isolation and limitations, much like Holden's own life. He had no place to go, no job - nothing. Thirdly, his intention to be a catcher in the rye was actually his desire for stability and security. He wanted to live a decent life in a stable position, instead of tilting at the edge all the time.

            I enjoyed reading this highly symbolic and thematic text. Boy! Growing up is really not a child's play!

How about some comedy?

I love to laugh, and make people laugh. This part of me has been perrenial throughout my life, and recently, I have started feeling that my liking of humor can be taken a step forward if I start practicing stand-up comedy. I have been watching a lot of videos of Russel Peters and Dane Cook recently, and I'll be honest, there job is one of the toughest jobs. It is not easy to make people laugh.

The story of a Loss

My best friend N was always the cheerful bubbly person. She always had a smile clinging onto her face even in the toughest of situations. When I broke down, she was there to offer me her support mentally. I never could have imagined a change that would turn her into a completely different person.

            A few months ago, I received a call at 6 in the morning from N. Her agonizing howls made me jump up from my sleep in a second, and I kept on asking her what went wrong. Somehow it seemed that my wildest nightmare had come true – I was on the verge of losing my best friend forever.

But it was not about me. N had witnessed the death of her grandmother in a road accident that morning. N had been in the car herself, and by the descriptions, I am amazed that she is still alive. She had severe shoulder injury and her mother had broken 8 ribs and had a spine fracture. I wanted to rush to the spot immediately and give a comforting shoulder to N, if not being able to help the situation by any other means. However, that was not possible either – the spot of accident was a minimum of 8 hours drive from Dhaka.

What could I do to assuage my friend? Were there any words of consolation? Certainly not.

N and her mother were brought to Dhaka immediately on an Air-Ambulance. Without wasting a minute, I rushed to the hospital to find my best friend mentally shattered down to pieces. And that was the first day of her second life.

N had suffered a great loss in only a matter of a few minutes. This unexpected incident had affected her so much, that I barely recognize her now. N is no longer the bubbly cheerful girl who goofs around her friends all the time. N’s smile is no longer the symbol of warmth. But it is true that she has matured ten times more than she ever was before. She is now a dutiful, responsible member of her family who takes care of her family as well as focusing on her academics in the best possible way.

Even now N cracks a joke every now and then to make everyone laugh. But having been her best friend for a long time now, I know her smile is nothing but pretence that N pulls off so that she doesn’t have to withstand the sympathetic gazes form people at her loss. Supporting a friend in such a difficult situation is not an easy task. I had to cope up with the absence of the old N quickly. Even though I did not approve of the feigned new face of N, I wished she would somehow leave it all behind her and start living again.

Well, I wasn’t completely wrong. N had coped up with her new life all too easily. But she admitted to me that she had left her own corpse in the crashed remains of her car. Although it is still difficult for me to find my years-old pal in N, I know that she lives deep within the scars of N’s mind.

If I had anything to learn from this incident in my best friend’s life, I learnt to find a way out of every barrier that life has to offer. They say that time heals all wounds; I disagree to that partly. Time might heal all wounds, but some wounds may leave behind permanent scars. Time would show us how to leave the horrifying memories behind and move on with life. But it would not be able to erase those memories completely from our subconscious. N had made this subtle truth evident for me.