Just a good fight

They all say failure is the pillar of success . Well, no offence to all those souls who says that and believe it ; no offence to the Scottish king Robert Bruce for setting up an example by winning freedom after loosing the same war seven times . But generally, it is not easy for everyone to swing back in to the game when one is on a loosing streak . When you loose too much you start to forget what it would be like to win and soon you stop looking for that silver lining in the clouds.

Just like our national cricket team !! All this talk about failure and success came to my mind as I was watching the test match between Bangladesh and Pakistan. I am not a huge cricket fan and except on the occasion of world cup I barely keep track of it. But I am a Bangladeshi, and just like any other Bangladeshi I am eagerly waiting for the day when our cricket players will finally kick some big teams behind!

In the recent world cup besides all the surprises I think the most shocking surprise was the performance of our national cricket team . Not even the commentators were sparing Bangladesh from their brutal scorns . I think that was the most shameful experience we had so far .
But in the recent test match as I was watching Bangladesh playing Pakistan, facing the balls of Pakistani bowlers and actually picking runs from them . I realized something.

Although we lost the test match and the ODI matches anyway; it doesn't really matter. I mean it does but not when you loose with a good fight . I don't think any sane man or woman in Bangladesh believes that we stand a chance of winning against any big team now with out a miracle ! But what we do want and we do think that to be possible is that we can at least put up a good fight. If we're gonna go down, let's go down with style and grace. Let's go down with a good fight . I am not one of those people who dreams that Bangladesh is going to win a world cup in this generation or maybe not even in the next . But we do hope and want that Bangladesh become a team who at least can stand a good chance of winning.

Once as I was chatting with an Australian in the net and he knew my country's name through the cricket team. And his remark was very simple "Well, our team can wipe the floor with your cricket team. No offence!" and I was not offended. Why should I be ? It wasn't an insult but was the truth as they did wiped the floor with us in the recent test match !

At the test match, when Bangladesh lost the game with only one wicket remaining; I was just as much as hurt and disappointed like any other Bangladeshi. But this time I was not angry with our team , because there wasn't anything to be angry about. They have tried their best , tried till the last ball and if it wasn't for some questionable umpiring , perhaps we would've even won the match .

Just like in the 4th ODI match , when our team kept us on the edge of our seats till the last over . But at the end , the sweet catch of victory slipped out from our catch . Again I wasn't sad. I wasn't sad because it has been after a long time I was seeing my team to fight to win .
Because I with many friends stopped our works to watch a game where Bangladesh had a good chance to win . Although we were disappointed at the end,
but we held our breath till the last ball was thrown ; as it was truly a game where anything could've happened . and we danced in elation when the wicket of Omar Gul fell in the last rest match and a faint hope for winning risen in our hearts ; regardless of how short lived it was .

And that is what I want . I don't expect that they will win against any big team now or any time soon , but I do want them to put on a good fight . All I want from Bangladesh at this point , is that they become a team that won't make it easy for any team to win against them in any game . A team which can be trusted to put on at least a good fight; not allowing the opponents to wipe the floor with them .

At the end , I will say , that it's not always the point whether you loose ; but the point is how badly did you loose or more importantly how strongly did you fought back !

-- By Sobhana Iftekhar

I still remember the day, 12th October 2001 like another ordinary Friday. I'm a very sleep addicted person, so didn't for a second bother to wake up early, after a tiring week. It's usually very tough to wake me up, but one thing that day did wake me up at once- my dad's voice. He had just said the shocking news, my grandfather was no more! I couldn't believe what I just heard, sat up straight and tried to think. But it was all blank, it was like I had a thought block. Wasn't it the other day I went to the hospital to see him? He wanted to say so much to all of us, but couldn't and in the end tried to write them on the papers? How could it be? Suddenly my world had stopped turning around. I got up from bed and tried to be very normal. I couldn't cry, tears just wouldn't come and I was just too surprised even to be surprised.

I was trying to remember the last time I had spoken to him. It was Tuesday the 26th July he had called, so that we would visit him. I remember saying "nana, ar ekta porikha ache, tarpor ashi?" he then replied in the very usual way, the thing he would always say, " thik ache bhalo kore poro". Always giving priority to studying more than anything else. My mom always says, when she got scholarship for her Ph.D., my grandfather was the only one who encouraged her to go for it, while almost everyone had opposed.

But the day never came. I didn't have the chance to pay my grandfather a visit at his home. It had to be the hospital. He had a stroke and for his last days couldn't speak, but didn't stop writing. Always expressed his words through it. Even in bed he remembered everything about everyone. He even remembered to give my college fees as I had just begun them. He couldn't do it himself, so did it in signs! He had asked for everyone close to him. Probably he knew what was happening. But I think still he didn't give up. He never even missed a single prayer while he was there. He even wrote the name of the medicines he should have been given. And everyone in the hospital said if he could get up he would do his own treatment, he was such a fine doctor.
I remember going to the hospital everyday and standing by him. But I couldn't stay long any day, I couldn't see the pain he went through. I remembered all the time spent with him. It started when I was 5, I couldn't be found from Thursday evening to Saturday afternoon, cause that was the time I would end up in my grandfathers. My friends got really cross, as this routine never broke. When nana called, I used to pack my bag and get ready as fast as I could.

Sometimes it was Fridays that he came to pick me and being a very slow eater still had my breakfast in exactly 3 minutes, before leaving! No I was never late then! Nana used to pick me up after his visit from his hospital on Thursday and drop me while going there on Saturday. And before going to the house, we used to go to so many places and the fun part is no one else knew about it, not even my mom! I never told her!

But this thing stopped when I started having pressure in school. But still I would visit him as often as possible.

Time went by. He was there in the hospital for 77 days, sometimes conscious and sometimes unconscious. All the renowned doctors came to see him; even they couldn't believe that the king of surgeons was lying down in such a pathetic way. As they came I found most of them were students of my grandfather, they all said how he had taught them and led them to the place they are now. He was a teacher of Dhaka Medical College and served the medical world for almost fifty years. Many of his students who are well-established doctors now are working around the globe.

As a young doctor he started his career working under professor Allinson a very famous surgeon of Dhaka Medical College hospital. He was on duty on the 21st February 1952 and had treated the Bhasha Shahids. He was a very brave, bright boy of fifteen who went to study in Kolkata Presidency college after passing Matriculation from village Nandina in Mymensing district.

After passing from Kolkata he joined Dhaka Medical College, where he spent almost 30 years of his life. He also worked in Mitford (now known as Salimullah medical hospital) hospital and PG hospital. He was not only a medical surgeon, he also wrote textbooks of hygiene and also was a speaker of a health program in Radio Pakistan.

His medical journey ended in his own medical centre " Ahmed Medical Centre" which was a dream to him.
This was my grandfather Dr. Nawab Ali Ahmed. I remember the first time my article was published in the "Rising Stars" he was the happiest person in the whole world. He made photocopies of the piece and gave then to even patients who came to the hospital!

I remember the time of my SSC examination, nana used to call after every exam to know how I did. One day I was late to return home from the hall and he couldn't sit for lunch as he didn't talk to me! I really missed this during my HSC. Nana wasn't there anymore to know how my papers went. I feel that if he were here I would have had better exams!

He always made me feel special and helped me in having faith and courage to face even the worst of all calamities.

I'll never forget him and what he has done for all of us.
God had blessed him all through life and he had made the most out of his life. He never spent an ideal day. I remember even on Eid days he used to go to the hospital to see his patients! He was such an active person.

Time is the best healer of any pain, as much as I believe in this, I also believe that this feeling of void deep inside me will never go away. It has become almost two years since nana has passed away, but it still seems like yesterday. May Allah rest his soul in peace.

-- By Tasnim Hassan

Cantonment Part of Dhaka?

It was while going to some place in Banani from Dhanmondi that I first traveled through Cantonment a place meant for the army. Previously, it was not a route all citizens were allowed to use, but due to the heavy traffic and immense traffic jams near that area, it is often open to all vehicles.

As I was saying, I was travelling through Cantonment, which was not crowded at that moment, and I felt a change a difference in the atmosphere. After taking a long but close look, I finally realized that it was the cleanliness that was making me squint. It looked unreal and totally out of place. Surely, this cannot be part of Dhaka!

The road was smooth and the ride was free of endless
bumps. Moreover, the road was not strewn with polythene bags, chocolate wrappers, banana peels, torn sandals or people's spit and there were no huge bins (or whatever it might be called) waiting to be emptied by the City Corporation, which meant no disgusting odours! Rather, I was welcomed by the sweet fragrance of flowers, including alamandas, periwinkles, hibiscuses and marigolds, which adorned the footpaths. The flowers had actually not been torn apart from the plants! How often do we get to see that in Dhaka?

In all, it seemed to be a paradise in the middle of hell. Maybe, it is God's way of showing us the vast difference between heaven and hell. Or maybe, it is just a little bit of effort by the Bangladeshis. I prefer the latter.

With a little bit more effort from all of us, we can turn the whole of Dhaka into a place as heavenly and clean as Cantonment. Instead of trying to clean the whole city at the same time, we could do it part by part, by first cleaning Dhanmondi, maybe, and then moving on to Panthapath, Greenroad, Mohammadpur, Karwan Bazar, Gulshan and so on. In a matter of months, we will have a new Dhaka maybe not pollution free but clean nevertheless. But before we start with all this, it is important that we get our minds working somewhat differently we should stop following the worst qualities possessed by Bangladeshis. We should stop littering and saying 'So many other people do it. I don't make a difference.' We need to change our attitude if we intend to bring a change in our country. We should lead, not follow.

So next time you are about to discard a few tissue papers on the road, or toss out an empty can of Pepsi, or spit out your chewing gum which has long lost its flavour, refrain from doing so and tell yourself, 'I will make the difference.'

By Marwa