New form of poetry…

I was thirteen then, when I got my hands on a book called, “Basic for Schools”. That was my first step into the world of programming. The book made programming fun. Whenever I got time, I always sat in front of my computer, opened the GW-BASIC, and started to write program in that. Programs to do lots of jobs, e.g. to find prime numbers. Later, I got the Q-BASIC IDE, which also helped my a lot when writing programs.

After a year, I got a taste of C. I got someone who was learning C at that time. He was as engineering student. He didn’t had a computer, so he had to come to my home and used to write programs in that. And that gave me the taste of C. C provided finer control, he said. I got interested in C and started to learn C. I self studied the C language. I was dazzled by the flexibility of the language. To me, C was a world of fun. After a few days, I started to study Java. At first, Java was a hell lot difficult, with all those Class and Objects. I couldn’t make it out. It took time, but eventually I learned the ‘Class & Object’ thing. After I got the feeling of class, I realized how much potential it had.

Now, I like to be among codes all the time. In all these years I learned a bit of Visual Basic .NET, JavaScript, PHP and C++ also. Coding has a beautiful side. When you learn to feel the codes, you will see, that the pattern is just like poems. To me, it is another form of poetry, though it doesn’t help us to express our own feeling to others, but it does help to express our feeling to our computers.

If I am going to tell you something, I will say,”just peek into the world of programming and scripting, you will find many treasures buried inside”

Trance of a scientist

“Define curse of science. Some say, the bomb blast in Hiroshima and Nagasaki is one of the most ugliest curse of science. Some say, all the pollution and global warming is the curse of science. Some say science is making man more machine like. Does it?”, he thought. “Why is science is considered as an entity? Who has the right to make science an entity? Science is not just a mere earthly entity, science is just a thought that permeates human mind”, his inner fire roared.

He was lying on his bed. The storm was raging outside. The earphones of his iPod was humming some tune. His eyes were closed. He was thinking. “Why all these men have to consider science as a curse? It is true that they are not considering science wholly bad, but a bit of badness is intolerable. No one can define science in a definition. It is just an emotion, it has nothing to do with human society, human activities etc. Science doesn’t give us anything except a rare pleasure. All the progress of civilisation is the application of the wisdom, the wisdom gained from science”, he was still thinking. He defends science with all his heart. A bit later, he started to think again, “Science is an emotion? Wow!”, he was startled by his own contribution to the dimensions to the emotion. “Yes, it is an emotion. It is an emotion of the complete man”

Surprise…

When I return from my school, I get a bit tired. I ride my bicycle fast so that I can reach home soon. My friends sometimes aggravates me and ask why I am so eager to go home. I don’t like to answer. It’s just that I like seat in front of my PC, it is so much comfortable. And I also get eager to get a chance to surf the net(I consider myself lucky that I can surf the net from the comfort of my home, most boys don’t have such luck in my locality), and as Jerome K. Jerome puts it, “It’s my energetic nature, I can’t help it.” I have a study room. Most of the time in a day, I spend there, I like to be among books, though I don’t study much. When I return from my school and go to that room to put my heavy bag down, I get a surprise. I find something good on my table, sometimes it is a chocolate bar, sometimes it is a packet of special biscuits, sometimes it is a cake, or anything nice and edible. I assume my uncle brings those things for me but not to give those to me directly. Almost everyday, when I am in school, he puts those things on my table. I think it is a pleasure my uncle finds in such secretive act. The pleasure of making someone happy without being known.

Indeed it is one of the rarest pleasures.

Poems are…!

When someone write poems, what do they think about?

If I am not wrong poems nowadays are meant to be the expression of emotions of one’s mind. But why does the poet want to share his feeling? Are the feelings of one is good to the others? I heard that cows milk is not totally good for us. Why? Just because it’s cows milk. Only human milk is purely good for humans (Yes, that’s mothers milk). It’s a fact that, a driver of a certain device of a PC won’t work with other drivers. Just because the driver is made for a particular device. Just as their is no universal milk, no universal drivers, there is no universal feelings or emotions. Someone’s mind cannot be compatible with other’s emotions. Then why poem?

It’s sometimes true that, when we share feelings, we feel a lot lighter, but does that need a medium like poem? It’s also true that when we read poems similar to our own feelings, we feel happy. But does such expression need the obscure twisted lingual medium of poems. Isn’t ordinary everyday language enough for that?

If, all men and women in this world, start to read and write poems, with all the emotions boiling through the poems, can you imagine what will happen to this world! I think the average density of the earth will increase due to the increased weight of emotions.

Mathematical theorems are does sometimes has obscurity, but is does render the logical truth beautifully. As for poems; poems are like obscure ciphers which has to be decoded by the reader. But sometimes the encryption is too much heavy. To me it’s heavier than the Enigma Cipher. And therefore, I cannot find the beautiful truth in poems nowadays.

Sometimes, poems do inspire. Kazi Nazrul Islam inspired revolutions with his poems. He truly is a brave poet of our times. I admire him and his poems.

When I get a chance sit with poems, and try to decipher them. But I feel helpless. Controversy lingers in me. Whether the poem is necessary of not. I tend to be an anti-poemist. Sorry if someone is hurt to see an anti-poemist for the first time. Maybe my definition of poems are wrong. But does the definition of poem holds an essential part in the definition of arts?

Tenacity & audacity

He was an average student. He had his secondary board exams. But he didn’t expect his result to be bad. He didn’t make a result good enough for science education in higher secondary. He was really sad. He searched for a school to get appoint him as a student of science in higher secondary. But no school was willing to do so. After a long search, he got his school. He started to study science in higher secondary. Two years passed away. He had his higher secondary exam. He got lower than 65%. He wanted to be a physics graduate. But whenever he asked someone to advice, about colleges, everyone frowned at him and said, “How can you think of yourself as a physics graduate, with this marks in higher secondary?” He was almost broken. What else he could do? No college would give him honors in Physics while he got such poor marks in higher secondary. One college did give him at last. He started to study physics.

When the result of the graduation was out, he stood second in the whole university. Now, he is doing some research on semiconductors in Germany.

I think he had a heavy dream, and I still don’t know his name.

-

He crash landed behind enemy line. His feet got shattered. He crawled through snow and ice, for eighteen days. He survived, and rescued by some villagers nearby. He stayed with the villagers a few days and fed by them he recovered a bit, but his feet got worse. After a few days, his fellow airmen took him from the villagers, sent him to Moscow for some better treatment. He was a fighter pilot.

Both his feet ware amputated. The doctor advised him to walk with wooden stumps. But how can he fly again with his wooden stumps? He broke. He didn’t even dared to write the news of his amputation to his lover. Would she be able to love him in such condition? But something made him stronger. He doggedly trained himself to walk again, he even learned to dance (can you imagine dancing with wooden feet). While everyone was assured that he won’t be able to fly and fight again, he went to the flight school to train himself. He became a pilot again. He truly belonged to the sky.

He was a soviet airman. His name is Alexei Petrovich Maresiev.

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They both are very different men, and they are two among many, who define tencity and audacity.

 

Age of eighteen years

Yesterday I went to my private tutor. He started to discuss a topic on a poem by Sukanta Bhattacharya, “Atharo Bochor Boyosh”(Age of eighteen years). Before elaborating the discussion on the topic, he told us a story, a story which he saw with his own eyes. It is a story to two lovers. He asked me to keep their names secret, so I am using Charlie and Elisha instead of the real names. If any of the readers have these names, please don’t mind. Actually he wanted to explain what an eighteen year old is capable of; An eighteen year old can challenge every obstacles without thinking about the consequences.

The story goes like this:

Charlie and Elisha loved each other so much, it seemed that they were almost inseparable. When Charlie was eighteen or nineteen (I don’t know the girl’s age of the time), they married. My teacher was a good friend of Charlie, he asked him how the are to live without any financial income. Charlie, being ignorant to the thought of future replied, “I will make a way, you’ll see.”

And that was all my teacher said to us. Then, after a bit of silence, he spoke, “Now, look at him, no romance, no love. They live separated from each other. Where is the romance now? His single mistake took his whole life, left him dry.”

I assume, from the age of my teacher, he is almost fifty years old. He lost the best time of his life, because, when he was eighteen years old, he made a mistake. The story left me moved.

We should always think what we are about to do, before we do.

Things I never did…

I think, we always do silly things when we are young (younger than the time when we realize that we were younger). I used to tell everybody a lot of things which I never did, and I enjoyed telling them.

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My friends used to aggravate me a lot when I spoke about anything. So to defend myself from the aggravation, I made up this story. It goes like this:

I had a friend, who used to aggravate me a lot when I went to play out because I was not the best player. One day, I lost my temper and went to hit him. I kicked him in his chest, and he fell down. Crying, he couldn’t stand up. I didn’t help him get up. Others did. Later I heard that I broke a bone on his rib. I could do anything when I am angry.

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Another great lie I told when I was in a discussion about swimming. I had to say something. Someone asked me how well I can swim, I told, “I can swim across the Bhagirathi” (a river, big river). He admired my ability to swim.

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I never did hit anybody so hard to break a rib. The truth is, I never had such a friend. I made up the story because, I had to defend myself from aggravation. When I said him I could swim through Bhagirathi, I knew I was lying, but still I had to present myself as something I was not.

Time changes everything. Now I don’t like to brag like a child sometimes does. Unfortunately I was a too old child. Now, I believe, I am what I am. I don’t need to be a hero to be myself. And mock up heroics are easy to spot.