DISTORTED CHILDHOOD

" A hundred years should go to praise,

  Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze "

- Andrew Marwell, To His Coy Mistress

 Oh, my beloved, your eyes are as deep as the ocean,

 Your lips are as red as roses

 Let me take a deep into thy ocean,

 Let me smell your sweet fragrance.

  

 She recalls this poem many years later while sitting in an easy chair, accompanied by nurses. Oh! What has she done?   She suddenly gasps with horror! Rehana Khan, a young girl of twenty and one years. She has attempted to murder her fiance. The doctors of the Mental Asylum are working on her case.

  

Rehana Khan is the eldest daughter of  Ziyaur Rahman Khan, a politician, an MP for the past twenty years. Her engagement had created a lot of buzz in the country. Salim Reza, the only son of the Prime Minister Sheikh Abdul Goni of Bangladesh is Rehana khan's fiance.

They were a perfect couple, so everybody said. What could possibly there go wrong? Though people spoke about her as an introvert, nobody has guessed that her silence could be so dangerous! Salim has been admitted to Dhaka Medical Hospital. When the police in charge asked for his statement, Salim told him that Rehana's attack was completely unexpected. It was very sudden and she stabbed him from the back. She was found unconscious on the spot.

The investigation by the Police Department revealed some significant evidence that disclosed the mystery.

A letter found in Rehana's Diary......
Dear Amma,
I could not pluck enough courage to tell you what I am going to tell you now. It happened a long time ago but I could not understand it then. Remember, when I was in class I, Abbu had kept a house tutor for me. Jahangir Alam Sir was not the good person that everybody thought him to be. Amma, he was so scary, he used to show me a lot of unnecessary love and affection. He was a strange person, he often used to beat me when I did not listen to him and ran away from him. But he bought me my favorite candies every day and I could not help but go near him.
Sometimes he would recite some complicated poems which I could hardly understand. He would sometimes lock the study room door and, would shower unwanted kisses on me. Amma, believe me, I did not take it otherwise but now when I recall what it leads to I cannot stop weeping and blaming my bad fortune.
Amma, I think all men are the same, they use these words of love and beauty to flatter women.
Your Daughter Rehana.

Rehana's mother, Ms. Rezina Khan was a social figure, too. She used to be involved in social affairs, charity, and parties. Rehana, therefore, had been a lonely child.
The psychiatrist who was taking care of Rehana's case later decided that Rehana was suffering from paranoid schizophrenia. She believed firmly that everyone is going to harm her. The next day her body was found floating on the river Budiganga.
The day before, her fiance had come to persuade her. In the process, he had come too close for her comfort. She thought that after her marriage nobody will come to her rescue. So she will be bound to live with that man. Thinking of her past she was very scared of her future. So she didn't wish to see the next dawn.

Writer's block

Well, Well, Well! I thought to myself that when have I become a writer? The dilemma of being a writer was on every writer's mind whether it was the classical poet of the renaissance or the romantic or even modern or post-modern. The problem is every writer needs an audience and more than anything wants to establish himself or in the present time herself as a writer to be precise an intelligent writer. These days many do write but behind this writing, there is supposed to be a special technique of writing and one ought to know how to write correctly, not to say that the subject of the writer could spark a lot of controversies . One ought to choose a topic safely and write on it. Though you cannot please everyone there is to please but it should be a decent number of people. I always wanted to write something and something that I strongly felt for. These days we see so many writers and I feel happy that these writers are getting a platform to write.

I wrote a couple of stories and thought to myself that perhaps I could become a writer . There were many issues which bothers me a lot but then this block started and I lost my ability to write, maybe I am blabbering or just jotting down my thoughts but it's a relief that I am writing again...the mind's agony is somehow lesser than before ... I read many books and novels and poems but some touched the cord of my soul and I could connect to it as if it happened to me. Some people have the capability of describing a simple incident with so much nuance and aesthetic that the total thing becomes serene and surreal or sometimes more real than reality. The ability to turn an imaginative incident into a real one is known as fiction and indeed very beautiful fiction it is. If people of your time like it, it becomes popular fiction and if it is even more popular it is made into a movie, some stories are simple and real but it looks like it is more complicated than it seems and that's the author's capability to write,to have space for creation,to be more imaginative than someone else. Here the main point comes Different ... well we all want to be different than the other person don't we ? and there starts this othering business and trying to be Someone Different, someone, with some creative ability. We all feel it in this current time when there is an ocean of writers and creative people but it is not only about the current times all along in the history of literature authors and writers felt the need to prove themselves and therefore I am no different than others I suppose.