My City, Dhaka

To me, its not a very charming city; rather we, the friends, call it a mega-slum. The huge population, the filths, the hustle-bustles-everything is quiet annoying. Still, its my own city.

The life here is so hectic and pathetic at times. We have to become prehistoric animals and fight to get on a bus in the morning, everyday without any break. We behave awfully selfish in every phase of a city life like that otherwise we won't be able to exist. And that's the most pathetic thing for me and scary also. As a human being, we have some duties to others and of course when we simply fail to practice that I think, we become, less human. And if this silly practice prevails, one day, we become monsters. For me, Dhaka is the city of monsters, hundreds and thousands. But what about the angels?

You would get many also. But they are simply outnumbered by their opponents. Whenever they try to bring about a change in the life of distressed ones, they have to face enormous hazards and calamities. They have to stand the talons of those fierce frantic. We see their broken wings in our painful dreams. White feathers- all bloody and broken into pieces. Still they try to save us. They try to fight.

There is some stuff from so many things in Dhaka make me happy. I mean they seem to me as real beauties. Of course, the rain brings in enormous chaos in this city of rickshaws and buses. But they render us some eye-soothing scenes also. The crystal drops make the dust wrapped leaves of road side trees fresh and glazy. The evenings become nice when the fresh air sooths our sweat soaked body calm. I like millions of tiny bugs dancing in the stage of photon beaming out from the sodium or helium lights of the streets.

I started about traveling through buses. In any evening of rainy season, we have to face awful troubles to get a bus or rickshaw. Hundreds of people standing in the streets just to grab a taxi or CNG...seems much uncivilized to me. Why can't we be a little bit sympathetic to one another?