The recent quota movement, which was somehow quelled defying the logic of merit-based competition and fundamentals of a market economy, portrays a pathetic lack of skills among the youth of our nation.
Once the Huang He river was known as the river of sorrow in China and the river's deadly floods were seen as acts of God. But the Chinese regime changed this narrative through its long-term planning and by transforming the threats into irrigation opportunities.
Had Shakespeare been alive and the opportunity to visit Bangladesh, he would have withdrawn his poem, “Crabbed Age and Youth.” Instead, seeing Bangladesh's politicians, he would have written a new poem, “Shining Age and Subdued Youth.” Rabindranath too would disown his poem, “Expedition of the Youth (Taruner Abhijan).”
While the prime minister's statement on quota abolition in public services has prevented a volcano from erupting, many are shedding crocodile tears to keep the unfair quota system with some temporary treatments; and so the call for reform continues.
There aren't many moments in my life as an ordinary writer where my writings on banning the quota system have gone in vain. I had come to my workplace in the morning and finished the piece in three hours.
When I was a village boy, I learned from one of my grandparents that if I ever see a black cat, I shouldn't leave home to begin a journey for an auspicious cause. Later I realised that black cats are commonly visible in all villages and they come out of their dens particularly in the morning when most journeys are begun.
Shouldn't people derive delight from travelling? Then why is it such a nightmare for people who use public transport in Bangladesh? My short story of a journey by bus from Dhaka to Nalitabari may give readers a glimpse of why.