Almost a week ago, I saw a post from about a contest with a substantial 2000 HP prize. To participate, you just have to write content that can be about almost anything. It’s that simple.
Cat detective, me fat detective.
But being the lazy sloth that I am, I thought “meh, another contest that I’ll never win” and proceeded to be more lethargic. But it kept bugging me, and somewhere in a far corner of my head, a thought was popping up, again and again, telling me “Zayed, write something. Do not let such an opportunity pass. You don’t have to win, at least draw some engagement and let Hiveans know you exist.” But, I kept pushing the thought down, and it kept irritating me, up to the point where now I can’t take it anymore.
So, here it goes.
I am a criminology undergrad who still lives with his parents and who was very close to finishing his degree, but COVID-19 halted my exams. Now, my classmates and I are lagging behind a semester. But the thing is, I was never supposed to study criminology. Hell, I didn’t even know that such a subject existed in my country until I was filling up the admission form.
I was a mystery thriller buff from a very early age. My oldest sister, who is no longer with us, may god bless her soul, with whom I had a 10 years’ difference in age, was too a nerd. She was the closest thing I could refer to as a friend throughout my childhood, and I picked up this habit, this passion from her.
There was an on-road library service while I was growing up. A pickup truck filled with books that rolled around town to town delivering books at weekends. Its subscription was around two dollars a month at that time. Sadly, we couldn’t afford it.
So, I used to distract the driver while she stole books that we wanted to read. But we were no thieves, and we wouldn’t keep the books after we were finished reading. At the very end of each week, we would pack all the books in a bag, and I would return them in someway while she stole some more.
Now a day’s whenever I think of that driver, I believe he knew we were stealing. But he allowed it. Maybe he figured out our financial conditions, yet kindness won over his morale.
By the time I graduated from school, I had finished reading more than 400 detective and spy novels written in both Bengali and English.
But I had no idea that fate was going to make me study criminology. My family always motivated me to study medicine and become a doctor. In 2015, the year I was supposed to sit for the medical admission exam, the ugliest nationwide question leak in medical college admission history took place and, I failed. Couldn’t scrounge up the only two marks needed.
To farther tell you guys my story, I need to give you some more context. In my country, when you want to get admitted to public Universities, everybody has to sit for a routine yearly exam which includes quite a few topics. Now, after you pass, you’ll be assigned a course major according to your choices of courses and the marks you get. Meaning you are not choosing the department, they are assigned to you. No scholarships, no nothing. A piece of paper decides what you’ll study.
Criminology was my 15th choice in the lisy, but here I am, studying criminology.
I was very sketchy about it early on. But, as I was attending more and more classes, I started getting the hang of it. I felt genuinely interested in choosing this as a career option.
Many suggested me to sit for the medical admission the following year, but criminology hooked me in hard. I was learning, and case studying various types of crimes, doing CSI work in mock investigations, and was slowly getting better at it too. And now I can’t choose any other profession I would like to be in.
Best true detective fanart ever.
Now I know the basics of how to trace a firearm from its bullets or collect fingerprints, or amateur DNA analysis or how to collect evidence from a crime scene and mapping blood splatter. Though I’ve never been in a real scenario where I might get the chance to get some worthy experiences, at least I know the methods.
Usually, I write movie reviews, gaming content, and rarely something with personal philosophy on Hive. But this evening, when I was looking for a topic upon which I would’ve expanded my abysmal literacy skills, I remembered that Galen said to be honest while writing the entry post.
So here you go. I don’t know what could be more honest and reliable then admitting to theft in front of strangers, LOL.
Joking aside, I thought it would be better to just reflect upon my past, which would boldly say “This is me, this is who I am.” Who knows, if I win, I might expand this unto a second part.
If you liked reading this, please drop a comment below about anything. Like:
-What did Trump have for dinner?
-I don’t know. Who gives a damn?
See? We just made a conversation. I really do love replying to comments and having meaningful chitchats. And thank you for reading this poorly written 800 words of me sobbing.