I posted this song of Tagore, fortunately it’s sung in Hindi, English and Bengali, the lyrics were written in Bengali by Tagore, the Hindi and English translation is done by two very talented individuals whose names I do not know. The song is sung by three different singers. I do not know who they are.
…………………………. 🙂
When I was ten, none of the above occupied my mind. After school all I did was play with my siblings. My routine was to wake up early in the morning and watch my mother cook breakfast.
Next I’d get ready to catch the school bus which came to pick me up at 6 am. I’d go without eating breakfast and refused to take any food to eat in school at lunch hour.
My mom sent cooked food for my sister and me, I avoided going to my sister’s building to eat, she of course was happy to share the food with her friends.
When my mom found out she forced me to take her delicious paratha and omelette to eat during lunch break, I was warned not to bring back the food. I however did not eat the food but came home and gave it to my younger siblings to eat . I told them not to tell my mom about it.
This went on for a while, until we moved to Bangladesh from Rawalpindi, Pakistan. I completed my high school privately and registered in the local co-ed college.
During this time my sister always put me down by saying I’d be a dropout. This did not bode well with me.
One day she did the usual thing, she criticized me, I was fed up, I told her, “One day I’d also just like you have a masters degree, no one will care if I got a first class or a third class. They will just say WOW, like her sister she also has masters degree.”
First time in her life she was stunned. I of course said it and forgot about it. A few years later she reminded me, I smiled and said, I am successful , aren’t I ?”
My ambition was to do better than my sister, without staying well past midnight, like she did.
To be a Ballerina is a tall order, even at age ten I realized that. Firewoman , Astronaut or a Movie Star, in my mind all these are for gifted people. I only wanted to learn to sing. My mother promptly vetoed this ambition, in her book education was the most important thing for her kids.
I’m not unhappy but feel lucky that I was able to complete my education, with the help of my two older brothers, they took care of my college and university fees!
………………………………………… 🙂
Today’s assignment is “Wrap it Up”
Publish a course wrap up:what did you enjoy or dislike?
Describe a day,assignment , or a Commons exchange in which you experienced an “Aha!” moment.
In December, I plan to …
5,10 ,20 years from now….
This was my second time doing this course, I feel sad to see it’s ending today. I knew no one in the course but always felt if I have any problem someone will come to my rescue.
On Day 9 when we were told to prepare to collaborate with a blogger, suddenly I was concerned, I did not know if I could reach out to anyone, to do this assignment. I waited a few days and wrote on the Commons to @Cheri, I did not know anyone well enough to do this assignment, if I could do an alternate assignment. Her reply was I’m welcome to do it, but one of the bloggers whom I didn’t know came forward and volunteered to interview me.
I hadn’t read it, at first but one of the bloggers said,”Ranu grab it!”
I did not understand what I should grab. I went back to the comments section, waiting for me was ,@Cheri’s and Philippa’s comment. I was pleased I would be able to collaborate with Philippa.
I sent her an email in which I told her I’d be very glad to work with her.
She wanted me to be the interviewee, which I gladly accepted. She then sent me an email with questions to answer. I answered her questions and sent it back.
When I did not hear from her I thought she didn’t get my email. I asked her and found out she had problems with her computers. All this was fixed soon.
Her final email was to see if the answers were all right, there were a few I fixed.
Everything went smoothly and I felt relieved I did not have to cop out of this assignment the second time. Philippa is a great blogger I was extremely pleased to meet her, she helped me out of my misery by collaborating with me. She did most of the work. I’m very grateful to her, it was a huge help to me.
Our blogging community and the WordPress team needs to be congratulated for making us aware that we are a family. We will always be there for each other!
………………………. 🙂
Assignment: you reached out to a candidate and gathered what you needed.Today publish this post, and don’t forget to link back to your collaborator’s site.
Philippa @ https://freemeganmealplansdotcom.wordpress.com, kindly reached out to me. She interviewed me. She sent me some questions in her email for me to answer.
I answered all her questions. She sent me back to see if there was anything that needed to be changed. I did the editing and sent it back to her, to publish for today’s assignment.
She published it and sent me the link. I’m taking this opportunity to “Thank Her” for writing and publishing the interview.
The link is , http://freeveganmealplans.com/writing101/482-2/.
Thank you again for helping me out, Philippa!
……………………………… 🙂
Assignment: Today, tell a story through a series of anecdotes(also called vignettes): short episodic scenes or moments that together read as variations on the same theme.They can each be as short or long as you see fit they don’t have to be the same length.
Today my story in the form of anecdotes is all about my brother Rafique.
Sorry my brother dear,
You do not have to fear,
I’m just saying what is true,
Even though you do not have a clue!
As far back as I can remember, there were times I felt like disowning him. He’d do things he knew would annoy me, but he thought it was a joke.
The little stories I’ll write are in no particular order.
Once I went for a walk with my uncle Malik, On our way back; just when we were close to the gate of our house, he exclaimed! “I made a terrible mistake.”
“What is it ?” I asked.
“I forgot to buy chocolate for you.” He said.
I was very outspoken those days, I said, “No you did not, you made sure you’d be close to the house, so I won’t be able to make you go back.”
He was stunned, all he could say was, “One of these days I will bring you a box of chocolates.”
One evening my uncle came to the house with a box of chocolates for me. When he knocked the door, my brother Rafique answered the door. “Where is Ranu ?” he asked, “I brought this box of chocolates for her.”
“She is sleeping.” My brother replied.
Uncle handed him the box and told him to give it to me in the morning.
Rafique was preparing for his high school exams, curiosity got the better of him. He opened the box and ate one, I suppose the stress of the up coming exams did something to him. One by one he ate the chocolates until he finished them.
Next morning he opened the door,he looked at me with a broad grin. “What are you smiling about?” I asked.
Still smiling he said, “Uncle Malik left a box of chocolates for you, I ate them all.”
All I could say was, “Wait till he comes back, I’ll tell him you ate all the chocolates.”
Uncle Malik was transferred to Bangladesh, I never got the opportunity to tell them, who ate the chocolates.
…………………………..:)
Once at the airport, we were called one at a time to the flight attendant’s desk to be weighed. The gentleman announced, “Now would the baby come forward to be weighed.”
We the other siblings told Rafique, “Go he is calling you.”
Rafique stood up grumbled why Dad gave his nick name. He then marched forward and promptly stood on the weighing machine. The flight attendant was confused, he said, “Are you sure you are a Baby?”
We laughed so loud our stomach was hurting.
My Dad unaware of the whole incident, Indignantly said, “Children you should know how to behave in public, I thought I registered you in a school where they teach you manners, what’s wrong with You?”
I wish I could reply, “Rafique is stupid.” But I did not want to push my luck!
………………………………………….:)
One day I found Rafique at the back of the house holding a loaf of bread, as soon as he saw me, he started devouring the loaf in huge sections. He was afraid I’d ask him to share.
………………………………. 🙂
This one is an anecdote of my sensible brother, Rafique. Whenever he visited us from Sylhet to Comilla ,he’d bring a heavy suitcase with him. He’d take the suitcase and say to me, “Ranu this is for you.”
I’d say to him,”every time you come you give me the suitcase and say this is for you, what if I refuse to share what is in it with every one, what will you do?”
“I know you he’d say, you will never take everything, this is why I always hand it to you.”
………………………………… 🙂
These episodes bring to my mind the song : those were the days my friend we thought will never end!
…………………………….. 🙂
Assignment: Today let a map be your muse.
Tell us about your connection to a place.
I have decided to choose Bangladesh as the place , the lyrics of the song I am about to post are by Rabindranath Tagore. I have translated the Bengali words into English.My connection is I am a Bengali and was raised in Bangladesh. My ancestors are from Bangladesh.
Map of Comilla
Pen a poem inspired by the area’s topography.
TRANSLATION:
Mother means Bangladesh in this poem.
Today, from the heart of Bangladesh
O Mother, when did you appear in such an exceptional way!
O Mother I repeatedly gaze at you,
I cannot have enough of you.
O Mother the doors of your temple are unlocked today!
Your right hand carries the blazing sword,
Your left removes fear and apprehension.
Your eyes reveal affection,
while your forehead conveys fierce resolve.
O ,Mother what an image of you,
I behold today.
O my dear Mother your untied hair conceals thunder
The edge of your garment glitters in the sun.
I neglected to look at you,
thinking my sad mother ,
Is alone in the deserted house .
There is no end to her misfortune.
But where is your miserable attire?
Where is that sad smile?
The sky is adorned with
The lustre of your feet.
On this night of misery
Flood the world with the flow of happiness,
Your courage resonates in my heart!
……………………………….. 🙂
Today’s assignment: If you have trouble finding ideas this way, think about things we leave behind.tell us about an object, place, person,or even an idea behind __ and had to move on.
What I’m writing about is a reply to a question in my online course. It will also explain why I left the place I adored as a child.
The question is : Do you think everyone usually has a political theory?
I began my reply by defining what is a political theory? It is a study of concepts and principles used to describe, explain,and evaluate political events and institutions.
Each one of us believe in some kind of political, theory : A liberal wants the promotion of tolerance and autonomy; socialists want a theory that recognizes the exploitative nature of capitalism;feminists think it must be equipped to deal with patriarchy(system of a society, government ruled by a man and with descent through the male line); multiculturalists believe the theory should address cultural inequality and difference.
According to John Dunn the purpose of political theory is to diagnose practical embarrassing situation and show how to deal with them.
He says we must find out , how we got where we are and understand why things are this way.
He also says what kind of world we want to have, what actions and at what risk, we can realistically hope to move this world as it now stands towards the way we might excusably wish it to be.
My original home although it is assumed to be a democratic country, the citizens living there do not believe it to be so. Sitting on the helm is someone who was elected by the people, who felt guilty because the father was assassinated.
This person had no experience in politics at all,the link was her father was a politician. This does not qualify her to be the Prime Minister. There is all kinds of injustice going on in the country, people are afraid to say anything for fear of disappearing and getting killed.
The people who are lucky are leaving the country to save themselves and their family.
My original home is not what we hoped it would be.
John Dunn’s theory is to diagnose practical embarrassing situation. We diagnosed the problem but we cannot deal with it, we know what the solution is, but it’s not possible to deal with it right now . This is why I left my original country and decided to move on!
………………………………… 😦
Assignment: Choose one from the list.
Do you have an all-time favorite song? Why is it significant?
The following is my favorite song, its meaning is very deep, the poet himself writes about his suffering.
My heart cannot rest in this ravaged land,
No one feels fulfilled in this pointless world.
The nightingale does not complain ,
about the guard or the hunter.
I was destined to be imprisoned ,
during Spring harvest.
Tell my yearnings to go somewhere else,
There is no room in my tarnished heart for them.
The Nightingale feels great joy ,
sitting on a branch of flowers.
While my heart is strewn with thorns.
I prayed for a long life,
I was only decreed four days.
I spent two days longing,
and two waiting.
My days are over now,
and evening has fallen.
I intend to sleep with outstretched
legs, in my tomb.
How wretched am I !
I couldn’t even get two yards,
for burial in my beloved land!
The lyrics of the above song was written by Bahadur Shah Zafar in prison, before he died.
………………………………..:)
How will you use twenty-four hours as your story’s canvas?
Start in the middle of the action, then zigzag through time,from the moment you woke up to the last thing that happened before you retired for the night.
Structure your story as a play-by-play( or hour by hour) account, complete with precise time markers.
Zoom in even further, limiting yourself to just one hour of your chosen day.
Ignore these instructions and reveal one day’s significance indirectly, through focusing on its aftermath.
Assignment : Recreating a single day
November eighteenth Wednesday,Writing 101, Day 13: Play with word count
The day was yesterday, our assignment was to try to write a 50-word story or a 100-word story. I read a few samples of 100-word story and felt it was doable .
What could I write in hundred words was the question I asked myself. I read a true story of a mother about her son.
Did I have a true story to tell in just hundred words?
Instantly my father’s face popped up in my mind, I started writing, when I completed it, the trauma of that day’s event refreshed my mind. I thought of my siblings, my mother, how devastated we were that day.
I tried to brush it off and thought the only way was to go to the bus stop and take route 2 to go to the mall. After twenty -five minutes there was a sign of route number two heading my way. I was anxious to get on the bus, it was cold, windy and I was uncomfortable; in my haste to get out of the house; I chose the wrong jacket, it had no hood, I wore a cap and put on a scarf, which I did not wear properly to avoid the wind hitting my face and neck.
I had a few errands to run, it took less than fifteen minutes. I was not in a mood to spend anymore time in the mall, I took the bus and came home.
At home the memory of my father disturbed me. I tried to watch TV, realized soon enough, this piece of equipment occupying space in my room was not worth a dime. It was unable to make me happy. The weatherman was predicting snow, high winds and treacherous road conditions. I was safe in the house but my mind was preoccupied with the thought of my father and the rest of the family.
I remember waking up at 5 AM, finished my prayer, and was happy I’d have a lot of time to do a number of things. Two hours later I was writing a hundred -word true story. The memory of that day echoed in my mind all day.
At nine PM I sat down to watch, “Jeopardy” my favorite player Matt Jackson was competing in the tournament of champions; at first he was slow in responding; then he whizzed through and made it to the finals. I was thrilled my evening turned out better than I hoped.
I went to bed happy, woke up this morning feeling good because I didn’t have nightmares!
……………………………. 🙂
Nick Christian's literary and photo blog.
frightfully wondrous things happen here.
gehadsjourney.wordpress.com
A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.
The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.
I have a lot of thoughts. Sometimes they're kind of inspirational and sometimes they're just kind of dumb.
Nick Christian's literary and photo blog.
frightfully wondrous things happen here.
gehadsjourney.wordpress.com
A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.
The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.
I have a lot of thoughts. Sometimes they're kind of inspirational and sometimes they're just kind of dumb.
Entertainment for those expecting the apocalypse.
Just one more chapter...
The Art and Craft of Blogging
The Blog about everything and nothing and it's all done in the best possible taste!
Half Greek, all Southern and unapologetically liberal...this should go well.
Jean M. Cogdell, Author-Writing something worth reading, one word at a time in easy to swallow bite size portions.
I talk you talk we'll talk
Deep Thoughts, Spilt Ink
Steve's body of work spans conflicts, vanishing cultures, ancient traditions and contemporary culture alike - yet always retains the human element.
Because Plan A needed a few tweaks
Where health meets poetry and blogs...
Sabethville 
You must be logged in to post a comment.