A Total Eclipse of the Heart

Just feeling like writing today. I started blogging thinking I would be a regular blogger. Now, I am blogging once in a blue moon. Last I wrote just a month back, and that was too after a long time.

Listening to Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart. One of my favorite songs. Nowadays, it has become more than favorite probably because I can relate the song with my life. Yes, I see a total eclipse of my heart. “Once upon a time I was falling in love/
But now I’m only falling apart./ There’s nothing I can do,/ A total eclipse of the heart.”

I no more want to write on it. There are lot more things going on inside my heart and brain, but I wish not to put them down here. Maybe I will be writing them later when time will be ripe.

That’s all for today. Wishing me strength, and courage.


A Total Eclipse of the Heart


It is probably a random scribbling again. It is been long that I have been distancing myself from a hell lot of things on various reasons – on various disappointments and frustrations, on various whimsicality, and on various headstrong emotions. I really do not regret on distancing myself, but I have little sorrow over giving up the habit of reading, blogging, and watching movies. Yet, it is okay. With time, I now realize, life is sometimes about quitting too. Though it slows down the life, lets it fall behind, and even stops it for a while, it sometimes allows people to reevaluate life, rejudge it, reconsider it, and even rearrange it. Yes, quite an agreeable way to justify quitting!

Disclaimer: This piece of writing neither encourage you to quit unnecessarily and out of despair (that is what I do sometimes!), nor to make quitting a pathetic habit.



Life is Much Too Good

I am in a constant battle with myself convincing me life is worth living for. I know the bright sides of life. I seriously know. It is not that I am a too pessimist person. I am not. Rather, I am very much optimistic. Yet, I get frustrated of life time to time. Living on earth seems totally meaningless sometimes. I get depressed, too low, quiet and too numb then. The other self that wants to live merrily fights with my upset self. But, recently I am fighting with myself too frequently. I cannot let go myself as a broken, depressed person, again I am not able to come out of the melancholy I am suffering. I know my melancholy have roots. I cannot uproot them, in fact I do not want to. All that I want is to live with my melancholy less, and to live with my jovial self more.

What upsets me? A lot of things. Things that I have control over, simultaneously things that I do not have any control over. I am trying to learn the skills on not getting hurt with the negativity of life.

I believe in myself. One day, I can get rid of my upset self, for sure. Just I am taking time, ain’t I? But, it is not bad too! I am observing life, absorbing life, analyzing life, experimenting and experiencing too. It is good to know the melancholic side of life to value the merriment of life. The more I will know about the darker sides of life, the more I can appreciate the illuminated side of life.

Was  listening to ‘Come, Waltz with Me’ by Demis Roussous. Yes, he  is saying, “Life is much too good, my friend. Don’t let it end.” Yes, life is much too good. I believe in life!

Life is Much Too Good


I know someone who has his walls filled with photos of a girl. His girlfriend probably, or obviously! He snapped her face from every possible angles! He loves her smile, and her eyes. But I do not know why, every time I see the pictures of the girl hanging on a sky blue wall, I feel like the girl is dead. Surely, the girl is not dead. She is still alive as far as I know. But, I never met her. This again makes me feel that the girl does not exist on earth anymore. But, she does exist. He said so.

I hear stories about her from him. He tells me that how cute a baby she was in her childhood. He is 5 years older to her. He feels happy that he knew her from the very first day of her life. He gets excited reminiscing the sweet memory of their growing up together. I find him totally amazed with her beauty and intelligence. The way he weaves stories of her, the way he tells the tales of her I feel like the girl has born on earth only to be his beloved. But why have I never seen her with him together ever? How come? I frequently visit him. I have never seen her here, I do not even see any single feminine trace of anyone! “Does not she come here?”, I asked him once. He kept silent. Then again I started thinking that she might be a dead soul by now! He is just keeping her alive through reminiscing. I am again getting suspicious of her existence!

Last Friday of last month, I went to his place to give him back a book that I borrowed from him. I saw him rushing out of the home worried. I asked him that what had happened and he said that he was going to her place to look after her as she was suffering from high fever. One more time, I had believed that she is alive; she exists. I asked him whether he wanted me to go with him and he replied modestly that he could handle all alone. That evening, returning home I was thinking about that beautiful girl. Though I never met her, I felt happy for her that she has got such a nice man as her lover. Later, I got busy with proofreading an article. When I finished my work it was almost 3 AM. I felt somewhat guilty that I had forgotten them and did not call up him to know her condition. Feeling sorry I went to bed. Suddenly, another thought broke into my mind. Is he suffering from any mental condition? Does she really exists? Or, is he imagining her? What if she is already a dead girl, and he is not able to forget her? And, what if for that he has created an imaginative second she for his consolation? Oh! What was I thinking?! Why am I so doubtful? I stopped thinking and fallen into deep sleep.

Next morning, I called him up. His phone was switched off. I got busy with my work. I rang him few more times later, did not get him. In the evening, I mailed him. He generally replies quickly. But, that night, even after 5 hours had gone I did not get any reply from him. Worried I went to sleep.

Saturday, 4 AM. My door-bell rang. Wondering who could be at this time opened the door and saw two policeman at my door.

– You must be Mushfiqua Faitma, ma’am.

– Yes, I am. What is it? What happened?

– We are very sorry to give you the news. Mr. Mustofi met a tragic accident on Friday night. His car hit an electric post and his body has burnt up completely. We need you to come with us for some formalities! We know, ma’am, that you are extremely distressed now! But you need to gather yourself up!

The whole world had tumbled down over me! I cannot think of anything. He was supposed to go and meet her girlfriend Rania! Had he reached there? Or, was he returning? Has she heard the news? I do not know her full name! I do not know her address or contact no even!

– Officer! Has his girlfriend got the news? Her name is Rania. I do no know where she lives, but he was going to her place as she was sick!

– Ma’am, umm.., you are probably feeling very sick. we heard …

– Yes, I am terribly shocked. But, I am ok. I am not feeling sick. It is urgent to give Rania the news.

– Who is this Rania, ma’am?!

– I do not know her full name! Not even her address!

– Calm down, please! We are informed that you are his fiancee! You are very traumatized right now. We understand.

– Me? Mustofi’s fiancee?! No, I am not even his girlfriend! We are just friends! By the way, who informed you this?

– His parents! Colleagues too! They are coming to attend the funeral!

– You are doing a mistake, Officer! You can go to his house and you will see his wall filled up with her photos. And, if you search his papers, books, or diaries you will certainly get her address!

The officers were looking at each other.

– But, this is his house. His address. You two were living together. We heard of you, of no Rania!

– But, no, listen to me!

– Ma’am, please go inside, take your time. Take deep breath, Have water. No hurry, we can wait!

I went inside, and suddenly I realized my room has changed into his room! My walls are filled up with her photos! There was his table, his table-lamp, his bookshelf, his books, his clothes! Oh no! What is this? How my room has changed into his room?

When I opened my eyes I knew that I got fainted. I am trying to remember all the things. I carefully looked at the things of the house. It is his house! Oh Lord! I am going blank! What is happening?

On Monday, his funeral was done. Everyone is consoling me as his fiancee! There is no sign of Rania anywhere! I was perplexed. I was feeling numb. Returning to my home, which they have been saying that his home, and which had turned into his room out of nowhere, I was trying to start my life totally perplexed.

Few days have gone! I am still perplexed. Last night, at 4 AM, my door-bell rang. I got so scared! My life has turned into a nightmare all on a sudden! Trembling I opened the door! It is Mustofi! Mustofi! it is Mustofi. It is no ghost! it is the Mustofi of flesh and blood. They must have made a mistake! I hugged him tight. He entered into the room!

– Where were you all these days? How is Rania? Why your phone was switched off? Why did not you reply me? Where were you all these days!? Why they are saying that you are dead? We even had your funeral! Where were you?

– Oh, Rania, Rania, darling, calm down!

– Hey! Who is Rania? I am not Rania! I am Mushfiqua! Are you alright?

– I am okay, Rania.

– I am not Rania. I am ….

– You are! You are Rania. Darling! Calm down!

– I cannot understand anything! Where were you?

– I have been always there in your mind. I born there in your mind. I grew up there. We grew up together! I am in love with you, you are in love with me. I met my tragic death in your mind. I am buried in your mind. Your mind, your that beautiful mind, was always my abode, my address.

I was staring at him. He was laughing. I love to see him laughing. I looked around. I found my room is back. I looked at him. No, he was not there! Where had he gone?! Someone whispered into my ear, “I am here, I am here, living in your mind.”

Google Image


Trying to Understand

I do not understand what is life, what is love, what is sensitivity, what is logic,  or what is practicality etc. Are life and love about those what I perceive, what I sense, and what I feel? Is sensitivity all those things and phenomena that touch my heart, make me laugh, make me cry, or make me ignore things? Is logic a way of responding life with calculations only? And what are the methods, or right ways of those calculations? Is practicality all about giving priority to only those things that seem right, good, and authentic to me only (What is ‘right’? What criteria should a thing possess to be the right thing?)?

Of course not. My feelings, my knowledge of life and other things, my logic, and my sense of practicality cannot solely define life, love, sensitivity, logic, practicality etc. I am not the only one living on earth. There are almost eight billion people on earth, and obviously eight billion different ways of seeing or perceiving life! But, these almost eight billion ways of perceptions cannot define anything accurately. Rather, we set standards of everything that we confront in everyday life. But, what is the authenticity of these standards? Are we not setting standards as per the decisions of the majority? And, who are the majority? The large number of people from every walks of life? Or, the people who are on power – on power of politics, religion, economy, and culture? And, those are not majority – the minority – do we hear them? do we really take their opinions in setting all the standards? Where is the guarantee that all standard will suit each and every person’s mentality?

The crisis begins here!

What is life to one person may not be considered as life by other person! A practicality of one may turn out to be a whimsicality of other. What the whole world thinks as a standard, a logical thing, a practical thing, a universal truth may not be a logical, practical standard for me. I may deny the truth. Or, what seems standard (may be that could be truly a standard!) to me, may not be appreciated, or considered by most of the people on earth! So, am I turning into a minority to be ignored, or to be oppressed?

Sigh! I really do not understand these things. I do not get any concrete answers of my questions. Most of the time I feel like not all standards of life are truly the standards of life.

To me sometimes life seems a massive misunderstanding, a massive misinterpretation of emotions. To you, I may sound pessimist, or wrong, or right etc, whatever it is, to me I am always a questioning self trying hard to understand life.



Trying to Understand

Who Am I?

After a long time, I have started writing again. After nearly two years. I just do not know what I will write. I am just feeling like writing. Yes, I want to write down some thoughts of mine, but I do not know from where to start of, or how to start. Though I try to be a brave-heart, I am always afraid of opening up my mind.

Trying to sort out my life. Going through phases of depressions. So, you must assume that I am not having a pleasant ride of life. But, it is OK. Life is never a bed of roses only. It has thorns, and to get near to the roses you must endure the pricking of thorns.

I am losing track of my thoughts. So many thoughts are running to and fro in my brain. I know it for a long time that I am a canister of some suppressed talents. Nowadays, I want them to be flourished. As long as they are not getting flourished, I am feeling that I am imprisoned within myself. I am trapped in a monotonous grey world. I seriously want to live with a purpose of my own. Spent a lot of time for living for others that is not satisfying me anymore. I should establish my own identity. My name should not be a name only to be addressed by others. I want my name to carry a persona with a purpose, with some achievements, with some contributions toward the world.

Can I be able to bring out the real me from me? Me too waiting for the answer.

Who Am I?
Who am I? A painting by Sladjana Lazarevic Source: Google Image
Who Am I?

Day 1/365 – 2017: Keeping Hopes Alive

Last year, I restarted blogging on WordPress in a full fledged way. That time my enthusiasm was high not for blogging only, but also for life, for meeting various goals in my life. I wrote the first 65 days out of 366 days of 2016. I even started writing on 66th day, but I could not finish it, and it remained unpublished (you can see a screenshot of that below!) Then, though I was very unwilling, I stopped writing. Life literally happened to me! 

On March 13th I was appointed a lecturer of English Literature in a university. The university is almost 3 hours away from my home. So, I shifted to the nearby locality (Maynamati, Comilla – that is where the university is situated) with my only child leaving my husband alone in Dhaka. My mom joined with me to support me leaving her husband alone in Chittagong. So, we – two and a half woman – started our journey there. It was the nicest journey I have ever had in my life. I always knew I would be loving teaching as a profession, but I never knew I would be loving it this much. My students were simply awesome. And, how nice it was to meet so many different personalities in a day! I was teaching them, counseling them, interacting with them, correcting their mistakes, celebrating occasions together, and et cetera. For the first time, I realized how a teacher can be in charge of assisting the students in shaping their lives. In other words, teachers assist in shaping a nation. Oh! How a sacred duty is that of a teacher! So, starting my life as a teacher I felt blessed. I was in peace.  

That March of 2016 was full of blessings for me. While I was happy dealing my new life, and profession, another great news was waiting for me. Just two weeks after joining in the university, I came to know that I had conceived my second child. I was the happiest. Though the second pregnancy was very tough for me, but I handled it somehow. Now my second child, my son is on earth, and I have forgotten what pain I have gone through all this time.

Now, I am in Dhaka enjoying my motherhood, and maternity leave. But, for few days, I was feeling very uncomfortable with me! The fact that I could not meet some very very important targets of 2016 is pricking me all the time. I knew I had gone through some sudden big changes to keep myself in the track to meet my goals. Yet, I could have tried harder. Last night, on new year’s eve, this thought became scary for me. I was shuddered with utter fear, and hopelessness that I might not be able to fulfill my targets anymore. I have felt that I have lost my starting point! 

It is a shiny, cold morning today. It is the first day of 2017. Waking up I felt that if I am not courageous enough to deal with the leftover situations of 2016, I should not be a hopeless at least. And, that I did not want to lose my hopes worked like a magic! I am writing down again, and I am confident that I am starting my unfinished projects again right today. I know now that one should not abandon hopes in life. Life is dead if hopes are dead. So, keep your hopes alive. It is 2017, a new year – your new chance to live again. 

A very happy new year to all. Wish you, and the world peace and prosperity.

Day 1/365 – 2017: Keeping Hopes Alive