Today I felt really hurt and angry, not at this country at all, but just at myself.
I went to an interview and like a fool went on a whim because of a connection. The foolish part wasn't the help given to me to find this internship, but the fact I didn't do any research. It was for a financial firm, and the interviewer himself had no idea why I would want to do it. I didn't either...though I am interested in learning about Bangladesh's financial market. Ugh. And my Bangla, I made the mistake of say "tumi" rather than "apne", which to non Bangla speakers, the former is intimate and the latter is formal. The boss man took one look at me and I just felt like a prisoner. It wasn't him, it was me.
I graduated, and felt useless, I went home, and felt more useless, and I'm here and not am I useless, but illiterate and physically frail here.
Ah, I'm not disheartened, I want to be here, I want to suffer and get through it. I want to say I was able to go through it, but dear, I just don't know my direction right now, or where or what I want to do with my life, it's confusing. Every non brown person tells me this is normal, every Bangali basically looks at me and wonders why I'm not working. It's no one's fault, it's mine. Please if you're reading this and thinking I bear ill will, it's not that. I'm just confused I guess.
I came home so angry, embracing the anger like an old friend. Bitterness has been a daily ritual in my cup it seems since the summer and it's only been brewing more and more. It takes me a while to get angry, not because I'm not sensitive (the opposite), it just doesn't kick in until afterwards.
I got accused of calling someone something yesterday publicly and it stung, because I've given that person no ill will. I thought I did everything pleasant, did everything genuine, but somehow struck the wrong chord. What I wrote that was interpreted differently...what was the truth on my end was unread to another's vision. For that I am sorry, but upset too. Just like my anger today, it just creeps and creeps that much later, a day in this end, or a two in that end, just makes me bitter and upset.
Again, this isn't blaming anyone, it's just be word vomiting. In the end, this, like my other anxiety laden posts, are just canon fodder to better thoughts. Misconstrue it to what you will, I think I'm just sensitive to things.
Everyone my age seems to be thinking no one pays attention to them, then they end up paying attention to themselves, then their friends start from the beginning of that cycle. No matter how much their friends try to give those people attention it doesn't work, they need something on for themselves, to really enjoy it, or get some passion out of something, you're not a bad friend, nor are they, but transitions are tough, and if you realize you are learning to love yourself, it's a beautiful natural thing. Please continue to do so, and eventually we'll learn to love again other things that show a better world view as adults hopefully.
Much love and peace be upon you.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Seeing and Looking
I'm really good at seeing and thinking
It makes me blend into a different world colored by imagination, but it ends up making me forget my direction
Here in Bangladesh, I've been trying desperately in trying to see and look. Rather than looking at the myriad of people and thinking about her, I've been trying to see the rickshaw drivers and the people around me, trying to remember something of the sights around me. Hopefully that way nostalgic memory won't drive me to recognize places (which would take me forever, if you know me, it takes a while for me to get somewhere without being lost) and it will be because I've seen and looked at these sights before.
Today I walked from a potential internship office back to my Grandma's place alone for the first time. It was what I was looking forward to...sadly, my cousin actually waited for me and I apparently passed and left without him.
It makes me blend into a different world colored by imagination, but it ends up making me forget my direction
Here in Bangladesh, I've been trying desperately in trying to see and look. Rather than looking at the myriad of people and thinking about her, I've been trying to see the rickshaw drivers and the people around me, trying to remember something of the sights around me. Hopefully that way nostalgic memory won't drive me to recognize places (which would take me forever, if you know me, it takes a while for me to get somewhere without being lost) and it will be because I've seen and looked at these sights before.
Today I walked from a potential internship office back to my Grandma's place alone for the first time. It was what I was looking forward to...sadly, my cousin actually waited for me and I apparently passed and left without him.
Monday, September 26, 2011
9/27
I'm at choto kala's house (my mother's younger sister), hence why I have internet access.
Blah all I've been doing is reading and writing, playing guitar, and trying to read the Quran in English. Ah, the Quran is just so dense! It takes so much more reading one page than it does of several of Rumi's long ended poems. I'm on Surah Al-Hud right now I believe. I should read it now after I get off shouldn't I...
I read a lot of Rumi, thank you Devin for lending it to me...though now it seems like I have no way of giving it back being so far away...I'll try if I can. Rumi's poems are so fascinating, the feeling you get my reading them is more palpable then perhaps the lyrical content themselves. Like his poem "I have five things to say", it feels like he delivers each line with punch drunk love. Though I'd say he sounds drunkenly clear in most of his poetry. Ironic considering how much he uses religious symbolism. I wish I understood the culture at the time a bit more to understand the significance of some of his phrases. Either way, it's good inspiration for the sober minded though, at least we can feel his emotions and use it up at every cup (he loves to drink in feelings in his word use).
Ah, time to figure out this whole volunteer thing, it seems like I need to find the number of someone and call him, ah using a phone in Bangladesh for some reason seems scary! It shouldn't be, just like when I'm sick, I need to just say, "GO DO IT", and get through these tiny things.
Bye!
Blah all I've been doing is reading and writing, playing guitar, and trying to read the Quran in English. Ah, the Quran is just so dense! It takes so much more reading one page than it does of several of Rumi's long ended poems. I'm on Surah Al-Hud right now I believe. I should read it now after I get off shouldn't I...
I read a lot of Rumi, thank you Devin for lending it to me...though now it seems like I have no way of giving it back being so far away...I'll try if I can. Rumi's poems are so fascinating, the feeling you get my reading them is more palpable then perhaps the lyrical content themselves. Like his poem "I have five things to say", it feels like he delivers each line with punch drunk love. Though I'd say he sounds drunkenly clear in most of his poetry. Ironic considering how much he uses religious symbolism. I wish I understood the culture at the time a bit more to understand the significance of some of his phrases. Either way, it's good inspiration for the sober minded though, at least we can feel his emotions and use it up at every cup (he loves to drink in feelings in his word use).
Ah, time to figure out this whole volunteer thing, it seems like I need to find the number of someone and call him, ah using a phone in Bangladesh for some reason seems scary! It shouldn't be, just like when I'm sick, I need to just say, "GO DO IT", and get through these tiny things.
Bye!
9/24
I woke up at 6 am, so early...
I did 25 finger push ups, I then just read and hung out with mom, then did 25 clap push ups and I don't know how many more I did by the end of the night...out of boredom.
I saw Anika and Audwit today, and had a good walk with Dhrubo at night. It was nice, I'm looking forward to emailing my pen pal or pals depending on how many emailed. Still have to text dad's contacts (update I have since then)
I apparently didn't delete all my pics on my camera before BD. I have a photo of a certain person stuck in my mind when I was on my way to Bender Arena for graduate. She was so very kind then...people change I guess, or at least towards each other... I'm done with this God, I'm sure there's a reason that this hurts, it needs to. Everything should always hurt to feel it.
La Illaha Illalahu, Muhammardur Rassoolilah
I did 25 finger push ups, I then just read and hung out with mom, then did 25 clap push ups and I don't know how many more I did by the end of the night...out of boredom.
I saw Anika and Audwit today, and had a good walk with Dhrubo at night. It was nice, I'm looking forward to emailing my pen pal or pals depending on how many emailed. Still have to text dad's contacts (update I have since then)
I apparently didn't delete all my pics on my camera before BD. I have a photo of a certain person stuck in my mind when I was on my way to Bender Arena for graduate. She was so very kind then...people change I guess, or at least towards each other... I'm done with this God, I'm sure there's a reason that this hurts, it needs to. Everything should always hurt to feel it.
La Illaha Illalahu, Muhammardur Rassoolilah
9/23
10 58 pm, Dhaka, Bangladesh: more specifically; Kathalbagan at Grandma's
5 hours and half naps later, I'm here. This time, being here in Bangladesh doesn't feel like a dream, just a happening, like as if I walked out of my house in NJ and walked into the neighborhood of Kathalbagan, thousands of miles away.
When I think slightly about how long I'll be staying here, I get a little homesick. But this is my own voilition. I want to get used to doing what I want, for my own betterment .
It's cleaner here than before, less mosquitos certainly, but it's more empty as well. My grandma seems alone, and often is stuck in nostalgia. My mother and aunt thinks she's suffering from memory loss, but it only feels natural. My grandma has done so much in a third world patriarchal society; bought her own land, her own job, was the center of the family. Now she seems like all she has done is meaningless in the sight of her material end, and seems resigned to it, I don't think in a depressing way, but not in a certain way either.
5 hours and half naps later, I'm here. This time, being here in Bangladesh doesn't feel like a dream, just a happening, like as if I walked out of my house in NJ and walked into the neighborhood of Kathalbagan, thousands of miles away.
When I think slightly about how long I'll be staying here, I get a little homesick. But this is my own voilition. I want to get used to doing what I want, for my own betterment .
It's cleaner here than before, less mosquitos certainly, but it's more empty as well. My grandma seems alone, and often is stuck in nostalgia. My mother and aunt thinks she's suffering from memory loss, but it only feels natural. My grandma has done so much in a third world patriarchal society; bought her own land, her own job, was the center of the family. Now she seems like all she has done is meaningless in the sight of her material end, and seems resigned to it, I don't think in a depressing way, but not in a certain way either.
9/21
I'm leaving today at JFK. My mother is with me. When you're blind, everything blends with colors, and you're imagination blends with reality. I think that's a bad thing in this case, because reality has it's own beauty in the strength of its current accuracy and of our ability to comprehend it. Though here I am, writing, without my glasses on, writing what I'm thinking about, but not what I see.
I see blindly stewardesses with red caps with white gashes on,laced to the side, but, they are all look the same without glasses, just images of dolls
I see blindly stewardesses with red caps with white gashes on,laced to the side, but, they are all look the same without glasses, just images of dolls
Sugar
Love! You have cut me down with your locks of tresses
In pieces you chew upon my heart until the juices run down upon each of your summer dresses
I have resided now to becoming the sweet to your tea, you cast me in boiling fire to just disappear into your simplest desire
Darling, you drink me down completely. Down! Down! I go down so meekly
Never tell me again that I wasn't prepared for the end!
To the very molecule, I gave you my everything to rend
In pieces you chew upon my heart until the juices run down upon each of your summer dresses
I have resided now to becoming the sweet to your tea, you cast me in boiling fire to just disappear into your simplest desire
Darling, you drink me down completely. Down! Down! I go down so meekly
Never tell me again that I wasn't prepared for the end!
To the very molecule, I gave you my everything to rend
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