09/11/2020২৪শে কার্তিক ১৪২৭
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖑𝖞 𝕿𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎
Today is an important day for me, personally. Today is a day of hope. Today is a gift, as Master Oogway said, that is why it is called 'present'. Today I am thinking about a speech given 12 years ago. That speech gave people hope. That speech made people eager to reach out and hold hands to people you do not see eye-to-eye. Today I am thinking about the same Ann Nixon Cooper from Atlanta, Georgia, who is not with us anymore, but her legacy lives on. She was not famous. If she was not mentioned in the speech in 2008, I would have never heard of her. But I am so glad that I did. That night in 2008, I felt even if you are a regular, hard-working average person, there is a chance that you make a mark in the history that is written by the famous people for the famous people. The fact that the world learned about Ann Nixon Cooper from Atlanta, Georgia, on that night is something I will remember till I die.
That night a black man talked about not only Ann Nixon Copper but also another black man from Atlanta, Georgia, who taught us that "we shall overcome", he said, "Deep in my heart, I do believe We Shall Overcome!" As a black/brown (what's the difference?!) immigrant in a strange country, that night gave me hope. That night gave me the courage to raise my kids in this country, which has given me so much! It taught me to believe that anything is possible if I want it. During the last 4 years, there have been many times, I seriously doubted my decision regarding staying here. I am a global citizen. Thankfully I have the means to live in any country in the world I choose to live. But I stayed back. Because my adopted country and the motherland where my kids are born taught me not to give up. Never to give up.
Will you hold the line
When every one of them is giving up or giving in? Tell me
In this house of mine
Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me.
Will the stars align?
Will Heaven step in? Will it save us from our sins? Will it?
'Cause this house of mine stands strong…. Natural, Imagine Dragons
So, you see, Atlanta, Georgia, holds a place deep inside my heart. Today people are celebrating in Atlanta, GA spontaneously, which fills my heart with joy. I almost want to go there and join the crowd.
Another thing hits home today with me. Today a black/brown lady whose family is from India is about to hold the second-highest position in this country's government. Tonight, I can show my daughters, look at the TV screen and see what is possible if you study hard. What is possible if you believe 'anything's possible'. Tonight is easy. Tonight, we hope, because tonight we are represented at the world's political stage. We have already been represented in every other possible profession and organizations over the years. But tonight, we will be represented in the second-highest political position in this country.
Tonight, will start the journey of healing and reaching out to the other side, because I have friends on the other side in this politically divided world, and I absolutely will not take this journey without my friends from the other side. Tonight, we also celebrate our heroes, our first responders, our doctors, nurses, and all medical and research personnel who is helping us fight this global pandemic. Here is the "hand of heroes"...
𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝕿𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎
In the beginning, there was nothing! There I was, floating through the frontier of pitch-black void and meaningless emptiness. I don't know for how long I bounced from here and there until I saw a flicker and heard the rattling of keys. A door was unlocked, and there he stood...the unruly kid shining like a bright supernova, lighting up the vacuum, and a bunch of keys dangling from an old keychain hanging by his waist. And then, slowly, a Bifrost had opened from the flicker, which stopped right at my feet. I was scared, thinking of what lay there, my body started to shake like an old woman's electronic plaything! But what it took was only one step forward. And now, here I am, a whopping fifteen weeks old with thousands of words typed away every week in my name! I still wonder what I would have been doing at this very exact moment had the head-clerk not unlocked that door to extend out the hand to pull me out. He may have 12, but I am his one true love!
I am not a single entity. I never was. For me to be this old, quite a few nightly candles and a few willing voluntary hands worked relentlessly. A wise old man, a few directionless kids, and a simple collective is what my body looks like!
To start talking about my beauty, my assets, I first have to acknowledge the wise old man's selfless efforts. Oogway, whom most of you know as the editor. A Bedouin at heart, King Melchizedek no less and the never-ending flame of hive! He pushes you all to do good, even if you may not know him or never have even seen his face, I can assure you of one thing, he exists only for your good if you are an honest man. Or as your destruction if you have evil intents!
Next comes the good doctor. That cocky son of a gun! How dare he think of dressing me with his cheesy insta fonts! To be honest, I would be sleeping naked if it wasn't for him, with no style to my name. So kudos, doc! You cute but evil hellspawn!
And then, there is the rest of the equally talented bunch! Well, a few more capable than the others, but a father has to equally treat his child, eh! Or a child who has to love his father even though the Oedipus complex exists, eh! Rest assured, I love you all equally. Do you want proof? Okay, hear this! But do not tell this to anyone, okay? The guy who hosts the hangouts every week, you all know him, don't you? Yeah yeah, linco? His lover is on hive, you know? What? Did your mind just explode right now? Good good. See? I love you all equally.
In the darkest of days and the blackest of nights, I'll never let you go of my sight. You, who reads my thoughts, always try to remember my words. For it is I, TURNI. Full of life, Deepus flawless recitation, notacinephiles random literature as art, Parthos surreal paintings, Sayees motherly love, Rehan's weirdest places to travel, or the newest kid, Mredols flicker of life gives me purpose. For I am Turni, and this is my design!
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝕮𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕲𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖘
It's human nature to almost always expect The grass is greener on the other side. It takes an immense amount of wisdom and insight into life to comprehend the fact that what we see is not what's always under the skin. From our next-door neighbor to the colleague in the next cubicle to Facebook and Instagram feeds of friends, acquaintances, we tend to fall into the trap of comparing. A dangerous pitfall.
Most humans are egoistic. I do not say this in the wrong way. But people do not usually let the outside world in on the wounds they are tending to. These wounds, you do not see with the naked eye. These wounds, you do not sense unless the wounded lets you in. The human ego puts on a strong facade that does a beautiful job at creating an almost perfect illusion, barely hiding that tiny crack we do not want to see. Instead, we compare.
If we are willing to see through the eyes of our minds and not through the ones in our orbital cavity, If we are ready to expand our horizons of thinking, we'll realize how often the grass is pretty green this side of the river too. Let's change the age-old saying today, once and for all,
The Grass is Greener on whichever side we want it to be.
I'll finish off with a few lines from a song @zayedsakib shared a couple of days back when we were discussing music. These verses have been playing in my head on repeat. I'm not sure how, but I feel these lines fit in here. I may be wrong. But hey, that doesn't matter. As long as you see the green grasses under your feet :)
এখনো আলো আসে. জানালা খোলা রাখি.
পেছনে গান গায়, খাচায় পোষা পাখি।
-এখনো আলো আসে, Mahedi Nil
The revolution will not be televised
The revolution will be no re-run, brothers
The revolution will be live
- Gil Scott-Heron
Our little tale starts with Jules Verne's From Earth To the Moon. As kids, staring at the Milkyway during the nights of new moons, what came first to our mind was, "What is there?" in those voids of the vast multiverse? And then we'd seek answers from "Thakumar Jhuli". A classic bedtime book of fairy tales full of dreams and fantasies.
As we grew up, the questions changed from "what lives there" to "we wanna get there" to "how can we get there." We no longer sought answers from our favorite "Thakumar Jhuli." Fairytales no longer met our quests. We wandered off from where once all the clues used to be from where Everything was possible.
But on some days, when we face adversities in life when answers are nowhere to be found when all the roads are seemingly blocked, maybe just a little bit of faith in fairy tales is what it takes to take the first step to spark the revolutions within.
The journey may be a little rough, road filled with rocks, our futile attempts to summit on Kilimanjaro, but we made it this far. What will harm if faith is kept a little more on warriors who, despite not knowing how to fight, shields those in need! In the end, we are that what we make of us. We are what we make of our hearts and soul.
betal sotti, onnoyodev sotti, tarzan, captain spark..... sob sotti:)
Seek within for revolution and make do of what is unthinkable. For, after all, there are footprints on the moon.
𝕶𝖆𝖌𝖚 𝕲𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝕸𝖔𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖚𝖐
To satiate my hunger for art, I go to cinema. And when I'm lustful. I run after literature.-
The prose and flamboyant style of writing notacinephile shows in his pieces are indeed a mastery to behold. Too many words of praise may dull the sword. And so let's not compliment him anymore:v let me introduce you to a guy whose reviews about books and movies in itself are worth measurable in emeralds. And that is well proven in the following satire.
There was a country bustling with green life, untapped potential, and a million promises in a land far, far away. It was not a rich country by any means, but definitely richer than Los Santos—heck, those mongrels can't even compete! We'll call this land "Moger Mulluk".
Moger Mulluk had an honorable, morally superior, philosophically sound, uptight tech-giant as their technocrat minister. The entire nation revered him very much, and their mutual love was manifested through a nickname—KAGU—which clearly bore the mark of national affection.
One day when he was languidly pacing back and forth in his private office room, his personal secretary knocked.
"Coooome in!" Kagu said in a dreamy, placid voice.
"Morning, sire!" bowed the PS, entering. "Today is the day," he reported. "We have cleansed all of the internet with a righteous hand that is yours. No more porn!"
"Bless you, my young Padawan! Now that there is no competition, I will build my own industry in peace!" Kagu smiled, his eyes are half-closed.
"All the govt. employees that didn't use Dikjoy keyboard are sacked." His PS continued, "Some are jailed, and we've put a few in the dungeons."
"Great job! Remind me to raise your salary."
The PS suddenly felt his chest swollen with pride.
"All the nuisance—Reddit, Wikipedia, archive, Facebook, Pinterest, Paypal, Upwork, medium are blocked as well. One can only access the govt. monitored sites from our mighty country of prosperity."
At this last report, Kagu felt the pressure burgeoning in him over the last couple of years melting away, slowly, slowly... A sense of calm and peace engulfed him.
"Sire, there is something else…"
But Kagu wasn't listening to him anymore. He turned back. Approached the window. There is a giant slum down there a couple of blocks over. But Kagu didn't see it. He saw millions of people—all looking at him with hopeful eyes, cheering his name.
It was like a papal inauguration, and he was the pope. Why not? The media already credited him for all the technological advances this country had ever seen. He taught them how to talk, type, turn on the computer, do a little search, touch themselves, get hard in the morning, he even…
No, he shouldn't sell himself so cheaply! What good is a Pope anyway?!
A bright smile reached his ears.
He WAS the messiah!
মোস্তফা জব্বার কী করেননাই এই বাঙালির জন্যে? তিনি বাঙালিকে ওয়ার্ড, এক্সেল, পাওয়ারপয়েন্ট, ফটোশপ, ইলাস্ট্রেটর, ইনডিজাইন, প্রিমিয়ার, ড্রিমউইভার, অটোক্যাড, মায়া, থ্রিডিএস ম্যাক্স, আফটার ইফেক্ট, নিউক, জি ব্রাশ ইত্যাদি সবই শিখিয়েছেন। বাঙালি প্রযুক্তিতে যত যাই করে, তার ৯০% মোস্তফা জব্বারের অবদান।
সুত্রঃ "বাঙালিকে কম্পিউটার কী জিনিস সেটা শিখিয়েছেন এই মোস্তাফা জব্বারই। কম্পিউটারে বাংলা ব্যবহার শিখিয়েছেন মোস্তাফা জব্বারই। আজকের সংবাদপত্র এখনো তার দেখানো প্রযুক্তিতে চলছে—এমনকি অনলাইনে আপনি যে বাল পড়ছেন তার ৯০ ভাগেরও বেশি তার বিজয়ে লেখা। "-সাংবাদিক আনিস আলমগীর।
আমার যত ইচ্ছে
ইচ্ছে ছিল কবি হব, কাঁধে ঝোলা ব্যাগ, গায়ে গেরুয়া পাঞ্জাবি পড়ে দুঃখী না হওয়া সত্বেও দুঃখী দুঃখী ভাব নিয়ে হেঁটেছি রাজপথ জুড়ে, যদি কয়েকটা লাইন ভেসে ওঠে মানসপটে। কবিতার শব্দগুলি যখন তুমি, আমি আর সস্তা প্রেমের মধ্যে ঘুরপাক খাচ্ছিল তখন ভাবলাম আমাকে দিয়ে ওসব হবে না। পাঞ্জাবি ছেড়ে গায়ে উঠল রঙিন টি-শার্ট আর জিন্স। গুলিস্তানের ফুটপাত থেকে কেনা Ray-Ban ব্র্যান্ডের রঙিন সানগ্লাস এর ভেতর দিয়ে পৃথিবীটাকে পুরোদস্তুর রঙিন মনে হচ্ছিল।
অনার্সে পদার্পণ- এই প্রথম অবাধ স্বাধীনতা; যেখানে নিয়মিত বই নিয়ে না বসলেও শাসন করার কেউ নেই, মাগরিবের আজানের পরিবর্তে রাত দশটায় রুমে ফিরলেও কেউ কিছু বলে না, সিগারেট খেয়ে বারবার কুলি করে মুখে চুইংগাম চিবাতে চিবাতে ঘরে ঢুকতে হয় না। Wow, this is life......
উঠতি যৌবনের ক্ষণস্থায়ী এবং প্রতিনিয়ত পরিবর্তনশীল ইচ্ছা- যার ফলশ্রুতিতে নিজেকে সাংস্কৃতিক অঙ্গনে ওতপ্রোতভাবে জড়িয়ে ফেলা। তবে বাস্তবতা পুরোটাই ভিন্ন!মানুষের ইচ্ছা বা প্যাশনগুলি এবং বাস্তবতা হয়তো সমান্তরাল রেখার মতোই পাশাপাশি চলা দুটি লাইন, একে অপরকে দেখা যায় কিন্তু কখনই ছোঁয়া যায় না। তবে যাদের ক্ষেত্রে রেখা দুটো মিশে যায় তার একান্তই সৌভাগ্যবান।
জীবন এবং জীবিকার তাগিদে কবিতা কখন মস্তিষ্ক থেকে বায়বীয় পদার্থের মত উবে গেছে টের পাইনি। তবে স্বীকার করতে দ্বিধা নেই BDC এর কল্যাণে এবং কিছু প্রতিনিয়ত উৎসাহ প্রদানকারী মানুষের অনুপ্রেরণায় আমার প্রায় হারিয়ে যাওয়া একটি নেশা নিকোটিনের মতো আবার জেঁকে বসেছে মস্তিষ্কে। Turni ম্যাগাজিনের শুভাকাঙ্ক্ষী এবং পাঠকদেরকে জোরপূর্বক শ্রোতা বানানোর জন্য আমি আপনাদের কাঠগড়ায়।
তবে Turni এর এই ১৫ তম প্রকাশনায় শুধু এটুকু বলব নিকোটিনের নেশার চেয়েও এই নেশা ভয়ঙ্কর, তাই আরো কিছুদিন বিডিসি এবং Turni কর্তৃপক্ষকে এই যন্ত্রণা সহ্য করতে হতে পারে:)
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕬𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖎𝖋𝖊
মূর্ত আর বিমূর্তের মাঝে লড়াই করে উপলব্ধির আত্ম প্রকাশ।
কটা গানের লাইন খুবই প্রভাবিত করে "পাখিটা বন্দি আছে দেহের খাঁচায়"।
যে খাঁচার ভিতরে নিজে বন্দি আছি, ওই খাঁচা থেকে যদি বের হতে না পারি অথবা খাচার ভিতরের পাখিটার ডাক শুনতে না পারি, কি লাভ তাহলে সে খাঁচা সোনা দিয়া মোরাইয়া।
দেহ, আত্মা, ভিতর, বাহির এক অনন্তকালের লড়াই সম্ভবত। আমি ব্যাক্তিগত ভাবে নিজেকে শিথিল রাখতে পছন্দ করি।মূর্ত আর বিমূর্তের মাঝে লড়াই করে আত্ম উপলব্ধির প্রকাশই এই কাজের/সিরিজের উদ্দেশ্য।
𝕺𝖓𝖊 𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙
I was coming back to my home after a hard day at my shop. It was probably around 8–9 pm! At this time of the night in the village, it can be considered close to midnight. As compared to the people of the city, the village people tend to sleep early and wake up early. I have a small shop in the local market, and since it was market/bazaar day of the week, it took me a little longer than usual to close my shop and get back home. For those of you, who are not aware of the market/bazaar day, it is a day when the market gets lively compared to other days of the week. People, vendors, shops get to do extra business due to this day. While I was happy as the sales went high in my shop compared to the other days.
Luckily, today's moon was glowing at its peak, and I could see the road very clearly than usual. As I was closing the distance and getting near my house, I had to cross a small alley between two small hills. This side of the village is still not restored or never got any chance of improvement. So we, the local people, made a small alley in between two small hills. I heard from people, mysterious things happen on this particular road. Although I never had to face any difficult situations in the past. But for some reason, today, those thoughts started to peek into my mind. Under normal circumstances, these thoughts rarely come to my mind. Over the years, I have crossed this road more than a thousand times, but I never felt that sensation within my spine that I am feeling today. As if someone was watching me with a very keen eye.
That sudden fear started to embrace me! Even my breath began to feel like someone else's. The footsteps of mine over the dead leafs making noises were baffling to my ears. By going through all these emotions and accumulating enough courage, I started to go deep into the alley instead of stopping. I am sure I almost crossed half of the road in that alley, but suddenly I heard a second pair of footsteps. I stopped for a second or few, and suddenly that unknown fear started to rise again. I thought I heard stuff, but even after I stopped walking, I still listened to that pair of footsteps. My curiosity may be out of fear or something else; I thought of following that sound. I did that, and after taking a few steps forward, I saw the back of a woman with a standard height and very long hair walking in front of me.
I should have been afraid or even more, I should have screamed or do something unexpected, but the first thing I did was I tried calling out that lady. As at that moment, my initial thought was that she might be someone I knew (the village is small), and we are a handful of people around here. Even after all these callings, I was not getting any sort of reply. This made me even more curious, and I started to increase my walking pace and tried to catch up with her. But I felt like I could not catch up to her even after I increased my walking speed. This made me even more furious (male ego heh), and I tried even more, but still, I could not close the gap. I am not sure how many times I tried that, but these dilemmas really strike me hard. I was so into this chase that Everything else faded in front of me.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. As I turned to see who it was, I noticed an uncle who was also coming back from the Bazar. Soon, I discovered myself deep into the jungle, where nobody really goes. I immediately fell down on my knees and thought about what just happened. After regaining my consciousness, we got out from there as soon as possible, and I noticed we were quite deep into the jungle.
As soon as we got on the main road, I asked my uncle how I got there? Did he see any women out there? He seemed surprised by my question and said he was also coming back from the bazaar, and he noticed me going towards the home. So he tried calling out my name, thinking that we both would walk home together. But he said I was not replying to those calls, and at some point, I was walking to the other side of the house. He got suspicious and followed me from there, and finally, he caught up with me and the rest, you know, what happened. He also replied there was nobody except me all through this time.
Now my question is, who was that lady with long hair? How did I go deep into the jungle without even realizing what happened to me? What if my uncle was not there to get my back? Was it my imagination? The reality would have been different today. This was one of the stories which I will remember all through my life. After that incident, I always tried to avoid going through the road, especially at night!
𝓚𝓲𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓲𝓷 𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼
Chester, the cat, woke up with a startle. He had a bad dream. He dreamt that he did not get milk to drink. He searched everywhere, but he did not find milk anywhere and was asked to go to the city hall, usually where humans assembled; they would place vast pots of tea and Coffee for all to drink, and sometimes, there would be snacks to eat also.
Chester sauntered. He was sure not to make a noise. He knew that cats did not make noise, but he did not want to be picked by a small girl and petted by her. Sometimes, these girls would even try putting a dress on him, and he hated it very much but could not do anything about it. He had escaped one such home, and even though he was hungry most of the time, he was free.
Chester tried to peek into the hall. He saw the Coffee and teapots and people trying to pour themselves a cup. Some people were speaking, and others were listening. They were seated on plastic chairs. He walked past them, hoping they would not notice him. He went near the pot and lapped up all the CoffeeCoffee that had dripped down. He was full and happy, but he did agree that the CoffeeCoffee tasted very poor compared to what he had got before.
Chester. He heard a shout as if someone was calling him. He turned back to see who it was, and to his horror, he saw the girl who used to own him. In the commotion, he ran and tripped on the coffee pot, and it fell on him.
He woke up with a startle, and it took him a few minutes for him to realize that it had been a dream after all.
He yawned and got up and went to drink water from a nearby puddle.
Freedom was precious, more precious than a luxurious life. Chester had realized what he had missed all along after he escaped from his previous owner. It was never the same, and although he got food and drink and every luxury a cat could possibly dream of, he wasn't happy at all. He could not even walk in peace because he would be lifted up and petted. He used to like the massages at first, but when he understood that he could not roam as he pleased or chase rats(not that there were any), he grew sad and tried to escape but was caught every time.
The memory of how he escaped made him smile often. His owner had taken him to a neighbors house for a birthday party. He was let loose, and he roamed about looking for a route to escape from the place. That is when he came across the neighbor's dog, who looked at him with such a grumpy face that he understood even without any exchange of growls or purrs. The doggy and he walked together, and the girls took their photos, and they were busy sharing it on their Instagram when both he and the canine found a door through which the food was delivered. When the pizza boy went in, they quickly and did not stop running until they were clear. Chester and the doggy parted ways, and he had been living on his own.
𝕿𝖔 𝕮𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖉 𝖔𝖗 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝕮𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖉
Inside and outside altogether, we all are Corona fighters. This is actually the scenario of what happened in Bangladesh. People are here not aware you can say careless and also our government. Our government could protect us from this pandemic virus, they miss the opportunities, and now we all suffer.
The first thing Bengali people do is take Everything lightly, the same thing happened in the Coronavirus case, and they had to suffer. We missed the train, now we are trying to escape from it, but there is no way of avoiding it.
𝕬 𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕸𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖘
Give me a window ticket for the night journey by train with an earphone and my favorite playlist, and sometimes I think that I can go thousand of miles. Recently I made a journey at night by train, and I enjoyed that with my full heart. The fresh breeze was touching me and giving me a feeling of immense comfort. This covid situation also removed those standing facilities, so it was so much silent there and was a delightful time to feel your soul. Closing the eyes, feeling the lyrics, and imagining the happy moments of life were the best combination. I was like lost somewhere to find myself in the memories of my life.
I have always preferred to train over buses or any other medium of travel usually. I do feel it worthy of it. While I am traveling through the train amid the green paddy fields, one can feel the real breeze of nature, which we have almost forgotten while living in this city of concretes.
While drowning in the thoughts, I somehow relate my life to a railway station—so many people getting in and down. So many trains are coming and going. We all just keep waiting for our right one, and that takes us away. So it is our lives too. So many people are coming, and so many are going. We just need to be patient to get hold of our true one, with whom we could travel our thousand miles journey, with whom we could feel that fresh breeze of nature, with whom we could share our earphones and holds the hands together.
Waiting for something like a thousand miles journey on the train.
Instructions to Get Featured
This here is our piece de resistance. To promote engagement and a little self-branding, we have come up with an initiative that we simply called Featured. And we are very excited about this portion of the magazine.
Every week, one talented author will have the opportunity to contribute a piece for the magazine while showcasing one of their best posts. The willing writers will have a chance to add a few words about any topic they choose and be a 25% beneficiary of the magazine.
How to Get Featured
The first step is, you have to decide whether you want to get featured or not. Once you've made up your mind, you have to apply by submitting one of your articles from last week. We have a wiggle room for quality content if they are older than seven days. Choose the piece you deem to be your best work for the week, as this will play a significant role in you getting featured or not.
There will be a two-day period to submit your application. It must be submitted by dropping a link to your post in the #Featured-Magazine channel on the BDCommunity Discord Server. One author will be chosen randomly from all the submissions. The featured author for the week will be announced during the weekly voice meeting. They will then have two days for writing a piece and submit.
The author who gets featured in the weekly magazine will be set as a 25% beneficiary, meaning 25% of the magazine's liquid payout will go to the featured author.