SLANGS

Why do we use slang words??

Can any1 tell me the answer to this simple question? Slang words can be used to emphasize an idea, or the validity of that idea.

Slangs can be derogatory and offensive to some, but funny and hilarious to others.
They are an important part of our daily speech and colloquial language. But it is often argued that it has a negative affect on society as a whole… i.e. a social welfare loss (an economic term I recently learned). I disagree with this point of view. I perceive these so called “slang” words as an important part of speech. They may be looked down upon by self-righteous “proper” persons, but even they are forced to use one of these at times of desperation or frustration. Many times, they can not express their annoyance in any other way and are forced to use these…. So, people, don’t look down upon slang. They provide (for lack of better terminology, because my brain can’t come up with anything better) a required release of anger/tension… without which, people would be worse off.

Our Last Day in GH

THE LAST RIDE



As we all stood there, up on stage in front of the whole school, none of us had a clue as to what we should say. This was our last official school day, and the situation was quite emotionally charged. I remember that my throat had become dry and parched and I felt like if I opened my mouth to speak, no sound would come forth. We were standing before all the students of this institution as examples. I, myself, felt almost translucent, as if all the crimes that I had ever committed were being reviewed. Sister Renu, after delivering her speech, asked if any of us would like to speak. Only Mushfique, Samrina and Raja were brave enough to take the mike. They thanked the school, the teachers, fellow students, staff members and administration, without whom this experience would not have been quite as special. This set in motion our last day in school.

None of us wanted to attend any classes on our last day, with the exception of perhaps Sheehan and Rakibul. Many of us had brought cameras to school, as we wanted to capture these sweet memories forever. Each of us tried to get a picture taken with every person, every group-in short everyone. There was no more partiality, no more biases. I had the realization that all of us would never again be together like this until our graduation. Sure, we would meet each other outside school; we would assemble during the exams. But all of us have a different set of subjects, so the entire batch would never amass.

I was astounded that we took up three whole periods, 120 minutes just to take pictures. Of course, there were various distractions within those precious few moments.
Some one had the bright idea of climbing on top of one of the basketball rings, and then a couple of the guys climbed up there. Obviously, they didn’t go up there at the same time, or that would have been another mark left by us. We didn’t need any more stains upon our already soiled reputation. The legacy left by our batch will be quite exceptional to say the least.

When the bell began to toll the start of the break, I felt another pang of sorrow.
We were done with all the posturing and posing for pictures. It was time for writing some little tidbit on each other’s T-shirts, and scampering around to get our own ones signed. The whole atmosphere was full of emotions, nostalgia, and bittersweet happiness. I found myself clueless and at a loss for words. I didn’t know what to write about my friends who were my classmates, my companions for 12 long years.

Time flew by, and we didn’t take notice. The break ended, and we were summoned to the hall, but we paid no heed. We were much too engrossed in writing on each other’s T-shirts. Finally, we were somehow jostled into Imelda Hall. All the teachers were seated there in a long row, and every single one of them had a broad smile on his or her face. I wondered whether it exhibited relief at being rid of us or regret at losing us. Some of them stood up and said a few priceless words of advice. Then, Sr. Renu gave a speech, and instructed us on how we should do our exams. She told us that we could now enjoy ourselves and then leave the school at 11. Some of us had brought food and drinks, but no one was in the mood for feasting. Nostalgia was kicking in and we darted around saying goodbye to everyone. I tried to make sure that everyone had written something on my T-shirt.

As the clock struck 11, we were asked to leave the premises. This was quite unfair as every batch till now had been allowed to stay as long as they wanted. We came down and said our final goodbyes and took a few last minute photos. I was about to leave, but something caught my attention. Half the class was leaving but the other half had never come down. I had a suspicion that they were upstairs meeting the teachers for one last time. I sneaked up to the teachers’ room & found that my conjecture had been accurate. Many of my friends were there, saying farewell to the teachers who had taught us everything we knew. I joined them enthusiastically and talked with as many of the teachers as possible. It was quite a sentimental situation, for both sides.

Slowly, each of us drifted out of the building that had been our second home for 12 years. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t drag myself out of the shadow of those walls that held so many uncountable memories. Every time I walked out of those gates, something pulled me back in. I don’t know if everyone will remember this school, but I know this much: I won’t be able to forget it. Now, as I sit here reminiscing about those days, I can’t help feeling regret at not being a part of Greenherald anymore. With just a month left before our Cambridge exams, there’s no time to muse over childhood memories. I can’t afford to spend time recollecting and reflecting over the past. I have to look forward to the future and what it holds. So, with a heavy heart, I write this article dedicated to my school. This is my way of saying farewell and thank you to Greenherald.

Steamer of Mort

Steamer of Mort

Through the dense, thick fog
The epithet appeared like a bog,
Moonlit as it was, darkness reigned,
Its outline vague with Stygian light,
The marsh parted aside, giving way for it to abide,
Chugging along, the monster came,
Slicing through the water as if in a smooth lane,
The chugging stopped, all was silent,
Not a creature stirred, it lay like a dark tyrant,
Floating industriously towards shore without drifting a bit to the side,
Creatures of the world turned away and looked for places to hide;
The dreary steamer reached ashore,
Unloaded the plague that lay aboard,
The anchor was raised, the engine was heated,
The steamer of Mort finally departed.

Mahrur, I, wrote this while I was in class 8.

Why are we so bored?

talking to my friends on the phone and when we meet up,and hearing myself talk,almost everytime i have to sadly discover that we are hopelessly bored with nothing to do when we actually find some time to go out somewhere together...


now why is it that we are so bored?


one answer would be,there really isnt much to do around dhaka. for boys,its ok to hang out late and all,but for me,being a girl and living far from dhanmondi,(the usual place we hang out) its not possible to spend evenings.and as for a place to go and enjoy,forget it...restaurants can be fun,but when you dont feel like eating its a stupid idea and then,come to think of it,almost everyone is broke most of the time...


with so little to do,no wonder we are bored to death everyday............................

The thing called love

life drags along...

and we all seem pretty happy with that...

well,i should be studying at the moment,after a nice 3 week long vacation,which consisted of absolutely no studies at all,only a lot of fun with my favourite person!!!(ofcourse who else but dulal/benjamin... ;-) )
and thinking of that break,i started doing some thinking about a lot of things...screw studies,its not that important in the end...

so i was saying,why is it that people feel a certain thing for one person that is totally the most unbelieveable feeling ever?its like,being in eleventh heaven...there is supposedly 7 heavens,but i think eleventh is the best!

you love family,friends,pets,bla bla...but at one point,there comes along this person who is totally mindblowing to be with,and you realize:"god!my world revolves around him..."

well,i can say its very true for myself.though it took me more than a whole year and a half to realize what i feel.there are always insecurities or decision making problems revolving around "defining love"...but then,maybe its not always needed.just as long as its out there that you know what you feel,things should work.

having him around is always the best,online or in person(sadly i dont get that too much because of the distance...)...i mean,when we're together,everything else in the world stops making sense,or mattering at all...they become insignificant compared to the thoughts and feelings we have...

but then the difficulties of a relation are there as well,since its not a bed of roses,but we just need to understand and talk your way through them,and when thats done,everytime,we always came out better than before...

just the thought being: why on earth is it that this unbelieveably amount of (love they say) whatever you feel,for just one single soul(usually the most unexpected one),and not for any other random guy pasing your way...gives the feeling of being in eleventh heaven?

its like happiness flowing out of your fingertips...

and in the end,its all the small moments you have or had together that make up memories, which are definitely the best...irrespective of being good or bad times...

and maybe this all sounds too cheesy or mushy,but seriously,its how i see things...couldnt help writing it down...

durba"

Crazy World

Crazy World
Time: 4.17 a.m. (according to my pc)

I can’t believe this just happened. I had just been writing an article for the last 45 mins. Since 3.30 a.m. in the morning. And I believe it was one of the best pieces of writing I had ever written. And when I was just thinking to myself about a certain part of the story it and how to express it in words, the screen suddenly went black, the whole article got selected & deleted. I cannot believe this just happened. It’s not fair; this is not at all fair. And, uff, by writing these lines, I’ve thrown away all chance of recovering that article by using “undo”, which I just now remembered is possible. “Grr…. RAGE” This time I’m going to save it and make multiple saves all the way. Now, I know it’s not possible to recover the article from my pc, but I’ll try to recover it from my head, as much as possible, so bear with me, people. This might end up being worse than before, i.e., not as good as the previous one. But I have to try; I mean the article was so damn good and so interesting to read. Atleast, that’s in my opinion. Anyways, here goes.



Time: 3:30a.m., Saturday, 2006 on the dot (according to my pc)

I’ve been awake for the last 45 mins. I just woke up at around 2.45 for God knows what reason, and I’ve been trying to get back to sleep unsuccessfully ever since. That’s right people; it’s 3.30 in the morning, that’s like bhor ratri. (Btw, I believe that people are happiest when they’re sleeping. But that’s another huge article in itself, so I won’t go into it now.) Not to brag or anything, but these words that I’m writing right now are flowing out of me with such ease, that even I’m amazed. It’s like they’re flowing out of me without a hitch and my brain feels like it’s in overdrive. Well actually it’s because I’ve been arranging my thoughts for this article for the last 30 mins.

“And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread:
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise”
____Kubla Khan by S.T. Coleridge

I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist quoting these lines from Coleridge to describe my present state. I guess a Literature student always remembers his study material. While writing the above lines, I suddenly remembered my understanding of the above lines, explained to me by Farzana Miss (Eng. Lit. teacher). I’m not comparing myself to the great man. I’m neither that arrogant nor that ignorant enough to claim such a thing. I just felt like there was a slight similarity between the situation that Coleridge describes and my own state of mind at the moment. What he describes in these lines is his own state of poetic frenzy.* “The self obsessed poet says he looks like a raving lunatic when he is in a state of such poetic frenzy. He praises his own creativity & great genius. This is all bit self-indulgent and he claims that he has got divine inspiration.”*



Anyways, there are two prominent reasons for my present state of literary genius and “divine inspiration”. Firstly, last night, March 16th-17th, Thursday-Friday, 6 of us old GH buddies stayed over at Labib’s place, at Baridhara DOHS. It was me (Mashrur), Samir, Sharjil, Kabir, Tanveer & Ashfaque.


Including my bro Laboobs, there were 7 of us there. It was the biggest and most badass stayover I’ve ever been to and we’ve ever been to. This was the best stayover ever, period, and Labib, dosto, if you’re reading this, thanks a million for arranging it. His house is like so awesome and just right for a stayover, and I won’t even start my tirade about how good the food was. Anyways, it was so great because we 7 friends talked all throughout the night and didn’t even sleep a wink. All of us had a lot to get off our chests and we did that quite brilliantly. It’s like the 7 of us were talking incessantly, and literally struggling with each other to get ourselves heard. And I myself a found voice with these buddies that I didn’t even know I had. The best thing about old school friends is that you can tell them all your secrets without giving it a second thought. Suddenly, one of our oldest friends, Tanveer (he’s the quiet, serious, nice guy type), even said it out loud that he never knew that I could talk this much. That’s because he left school early and I used to be really shy and didn’t talk at all at that time. He said it was such a nice, welcome change from before.

We all had so much fun at the stayover, that no words could possibly describe it. Talking throughout the night with friends, the adda, it was all just awesome! We even got out at 3 o’ clock in the morning and went to the Baridhara DOHS Park. It was pretty frightening coz we were all alone out there in the dark, at that hour of the night, and there were just a few solitary park guards in the distance. But the basketball court was sufficiently illuminated with these big lights, so we gathered there. Some of the guys wanted to basketball, but Labib wouldn’t agree to it because apparently the guards would stop us for making such a racket at this hour. So, we decided to play something a little less noisy. But the weird thing is the ideas we came up with were all so childish. Stuff like borof-pani, kabadi, choa-choi, chor-poolish and OC. The thing is we were all cracking up because we couldn’t believe we were out & about at this time of the hour. We decided on choa-choi, made someone the thief, and the faizlaami started. It was surprisingly fun playing this game after so many years; after 15 minutes, we were all tired as hell and could barely stand. Then we all sat down in a circle and told ghost stories and talked of family, friends, and bhootoore ghotonas, which have affected them. It was terrifying to talk about jinns and bhoots at this time of the night when we were all alone out there. We were all on the edge, and jumped at every single noise. And it was like the creatures living in the trees and the foliage around us had got wind of our fear, and made as many uncanny noises as possible. Then we decided to take a stroll through the park. We stopped to talk to a night guard about whether he’d seen anything supernatural in this park at night. He denied it and said he wasn’t always the night guard.

When we got back to Labib’s place, we were all tired, ravenous from all the running around. Labib was gracious enuff to bring out all sorts of stuff from the fridge and feed us, and we jumped on top of it; it was like a party in a homely atmosphere. It was really nice and we greatly enjoyed devouring food at 4 in the morning. Then we were all addafying in the sitting room, and Samir & Sharjil actually got into a dispute over Eminem. It was hilarious. Samir…. dost, if u ever read this, thanks for making us laugh our ass off, you were just too funny. Sharjil, I’m sorry, but you got punked… accept it. Ashfaque was laughing so hard, we were afraid he would wake up Labib’s parents, so we went back into the room. We listened to music and talked about loads of stuff. At 5.30, Tanveer got up and said we were all gonna play basketball now coz it was daylight. They all went, but Samir and I stayed in coz we felt sleepy. We talked about a lot of stuff quite frankly. It was nice coz Samir & I had never had a heart-to-heart before. So, we had a lot of first time experiences that day. Then we got up from our talk and walked to the court. We all played and no1 was serious, which made it more fun. By7.30, we were exhausted and went back. We had a huge breakfast at around 9 o’ clock, and then we were lying on the floor of Labib’s room, tired as hell. Some of the guys took showers and then we were all lethargically lying down. Then Samir started with his jokes again and we laughed ourselves to sleep. At 1.30, we all prayed Jummah prayer together, which was nice. We had the best lunch ever, (thanks again, Laboobs), though we were pretty stuffed from before so we couldn’t eat much. We ate and we talked. Finally, we took some pics to remember this stayover. The fun and the adda ended finally at 3 in the afternoon coz we all had classes to attend. So, we all left with a hearty thanks to Laboobs, and an emotional goodbye to every1. Some of us would see each other a few hours later, some a few weeks later, and some maybe months later. That’s what makes a GH stayover so special. We’re so busy with our lives, we rarely have time to meet old GH buddies, or go to their places, like we did. If the readers remember where this piece started off, that stayover was the first reason why I couldn’t get back to my state of slumber.



The second reason is rather a special one and the cause of a lot of excitement happiness for both my parents and me. That’s why I can’t sleep tonight, becoz I can’t wait for it to take pace. Today, a few hours later, the Daily Star awards are going to be distributed, and I am a recipient. Ever since I’ve known about the award for excellence given by Daily Star to students for achieving excellence in studies by getting 6 A’s and above in their A levels, I’ve dreamed of being a recipient. I even came with my school as a supporter for my seniors from GH receiving awards, and I thought to myself, “is it possible that one day I’ll stand on that stage and receive that award?” Well, that day is today and I can’t wait. I have goosebumps, and can’t stop myself from shaking with enthusiasm. Well, my second post will contain details of the event itself, and pics from it. My dad’s gonna work the digital camera, so sorry guys if the pics are not of good quality.

This is me happily signing off
Mashrur.

*Source: my Class 9 analysis and explanation of the poem Kubla Khan by Coleridge.

Intro:Durba

hello everybody!!!

this is my first posting on this blog(think,and im the co-author...)
but anyway,ive been asking mashrur how on earth i get to this blog,but it never was cleared till today.i called him up and the guy was practically screaming at me for not being able to find it and ending up instead with a world map site.
but thankfully,late at night he figured out how to find it...and here i am.
he did some nice pieces of writing(mind you,go easy on the sarcasm,guys a bit full of it)...and its high time i started some stuff too...

so,hope our venture wont turn into a disaster...
wish us luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Addiction or Fascination

I've often wondered why we Bangladeshis or Bangalis have this fascination with rooftops. We differ from westerners so completely in this facet of life. To any foreigner, going to the roof is like a chore. But, to us it's like one of the coolest things ever. We love going to the roof. Going to the chaad as we call it seems like a great idea to us, whenever we may be presented with it. "Cholo chaade ghure ashi" is a common phrase that we all have heard so often from a friend or cousin. It's like whenever we don't have anything to do, we just all go to the roof. And not only do we just go to the roof, we act like it's one of the greatest adventures in the world. There are exclamations about how the batash is joss and how the view is just too beautiful. Hey, don't get me wrong here. I'm not against chaads in any way. But I'm just curious about why we love this so much. I mean I get excited every time I go to a friend's rooftop... it seems so cool to me. But I don't know why!!! So... people, if someone out there can help me, please, enlighten me.

My Circle

It's a common phenomenon, that at every stage of life, we have different circles. I know, I know, ryt now, some of u are sayin to yourselves that u tok to everyone and your friends circle includes all of them. And I'm not denying that it does. But like it or not, throughout your life, you will gravitate towards some people a little more than others. More often than not, this group of people end up being your circle. People associate you together, they think of you guys together... when one person is missing from the group, the others are bound to be assailed by an array of questions as to their whereabouts. I mean these people are whom you spend most of your time with during those few years that you're together. These are the friends you go to places & have fun with. Don't want to use a cliche and murder it, but these people are the ones you "hangout" with. In my view, my circle is inseparable from my life. When I think of my last two "beshi joss" years in GH, i.e. classes 9 & 10, I think of the people you see in this pic. Memories flood my mind and I wonder to my self, how much time did we actually spend together??? Can a group of people actually stand each other for that long??? I've loved and hated with these people, so I present them to you. Hey, what can I do, sometimes I wear my heart on my sleeve... :) And if any of you think this shit is too corny, well.... SUE ME!!!

Birth Pains

I never knew that it was this difficult to express one's thoughts on the world wide web. I just spent 1 whole hour trying to open this damn thing, and since I'm able to type this write now, I'm guessing, it's been a success. Well, a friend of mine, Mahreen(mahreendot.blogspots.com), has been bugging/nagging me for quite some time now to start my own blog. She thinks I write well. Well, personally, I think she has bad taste and she should start reading better stuff. I've decided to take the leap, lay my naked thoughts out there for all to see. So, here goes....

Mashrur.