Robbers on the Road
The other night, I was standing on the balcony when suddenly I saw a car crash against a wall on the road. Everyone, including my mother came running out at the loud noise. We found that a sports car had hit the chotpoti wala's cart and then swerved back, as a result crashing into the wall. Within a few minutes the car sped away. In the meantime a crowd gathered around the scene of the accident. From the balcony, I could see the chootpoti wala lying on the ground and was surprised why no one was taking him to the hospital. Then I heard someone say that the chotpoti wala was dead. I was shocked! I used to buy chotpoti from him regularly and would see him all the time since he would place his cart near my home. The other day, he was excitedly telling us about his new born grandson. While the police was taking his body away, I noticed that he was holding on to something in his fist. It was a toy, which he was planning to take home to his grandson after work that night. I could not stop the tears falling from my eyes.
Maple Leaf International School
It was the day after the holy Eid-ul-fitr. Three of my friends and I had gone to the Potenga sea-beach. It was beautiful. Quite a number of people seemed to be enjoying there with their friends and families. When it was time to go back home however, we could not find a CNG to take us back. After about an hour, we found one, which demanded Tk 400 instead of the regular Tk80-100! Considering the fact that there were no more vehicles around and we had spent all our strength looking for one to take us home, we felt victimised. In front of the police constables and sergeants who were standing right in front of the scene taking place, we agreed to the absurd demand placed by the CNG driver. We hope that the authorities and the government look into this problem, otherwise, very soon it will be very difficult to commute from one place to another within a city.
Aiman Bin Shaofiqul Hamid (JASIM)
Dept. of English
International Islamic University Chittagong (IIUC)
Earlier during the month of Ramadan, I had suddenly decided to do my <>iftar<> in a mosque, just for a change. There I saw people of all ages from different walks of life. There were also about 28 children sitting next to each other between the ages of 8-12. Once the caretaker began to distribute the iftar, a boy of about 7 or 9 came and sat next to me. Once the muazzen called the <>azaan<>, we began to have our <>iftar<>. The boy next to me however, brought out a bag, instead of breaking his fast. He began to fill it with begunis, peyajus and all the usual iftar items. I asked him why he was doing this. With fear in his voice, he replied that the food was for his mother. I was shocked. It was extremely touching to see such love for one's mother.
S M Fazlul Qader Ripon
Finance and Banking Department
University of Chittagong
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