Yesterday I came to Mirpur for some work. The work got done in a short time, and I had some spare time on my hands. So I went to Millat Camp in Mirpur Eleven. Biharis live in this camp. Even today, they speak Urdu among themselves. The people living in the camps are extremely poor. The rooms are just like chicken coops. Seven or eight people live in one small room. I’ve heard that Millat Camp is famous for drugs. Yet right in front is the Pallabi police station. In the late afternoon, I had tea from a Bihari’s shop. The tea was good. It had a thick layer of cream from the milk. Piping hot tea. After one cup, I felt like having another. So much cream in the tea! I don’t usually drink tea like this. The Geneva Camp in Mohammadpur and Millat Camp in Mirpur Eleven stay lively all night. The kebab shops here are very bustling.
Surabhi called and said—bring oranges. Faraza’s school asked to bring oranges. I couldn’t find oranges anywhere. Aren’t oranges available year-round? There are malta oranges. There are kinu that look like oranges. But no oranges anywhere. Why aren’t there oranges? Are oranges a winter fruit? In the end, I took malta and kinu. Malta was 350 taka per kg. Kinu was also 350 taka per kg. Yesterday I bought apples. Apples were also 350 taka per kg. A man was selling cucumbers from a van. Local cucumbers. Seeing the cucumbers reminded me—Faraza likes cucumbers. I bought three kg of cucumbers. Surabhi has been saying for three days that green chilies are needed. Even after buying everything else, I forget to buy green chilies. I bought green chilies for 80 taka. But hasn’t cooking been done without green chilies for the past three days?
Times have changed, eras have changed. Everyone has changed themselves. Even beggars have changed themselves. Since Covid, the number of beggars in the country has increased a lot. Now I don’t take the local bus. I take the metro rail. The other day it got very late. The metro rail was closed. I took the bus. A smart-looking boy got on the bus. Wearing a mask. In a soft, polite voice, the boy said—my mother had an operation. I borrowed money to do the operation. Now I don’t have money to buy medicines. I’ve been forced to beg. Please help me. I’ll buy medicines for my mother. Almost everyone on the bus helped a little. One person gave two hundred taka. The boy earned around five hundred taka in total. A woman lays her two young children on the street and begs. Two small kids. The same scene every day! The two kids are asleep. In deep sleep. Do they drug the children to put them to sleep?
Many people keep dogs and cats in their homes. In Dhaka city, homes are small. What’s the need to keep dogs and cats in them? Dogs and cats scratch/bite hundreds of thousands of people every month. If a dog or cat scratches, you need the rabies vaccine. This vaccine has many rules and regulations. I don’t go to houses that keep dogs and cats. My aunt called yesterday. Come to the house. It’s been a long time since you checked on me. I’m unwell, come see me. I don’t go to my aunt’s house. My aunt’s daughter keeps both a dog and a cat. She fusses over the dog and cat so much. It ruins my mood just seeing it. I used to go to a professor’s house at Daffodil University. That professor’s house was full of rabbits. I couldn’t find a clean place to sit. The rabbits urinate and defecate. The whole room smells bad! Carrots and cabbages are scattered here and there.
I have a friend named Muhib. Muhib is not married. He has announced that he will never marry. Muhib’s parents live in South Africa for work. All his other siblings are married. Muhib lives with his aunt in Dinajpur. He looks after his aunt’s business. When Muhib comes to Dhaka, he meets us. He doesn’t come to Dhaka more than once or twice a year. Muhib just travels around. He works eleven months of the year and travels for one month. I’ve also gone with Muhib to very remote areas. We’ve stayed in small tents in the jungle. All us friends are married. We even have kids. Muhib doesn’t marry. We’ve assumed Muhib will never marry. That same Muhib, without telling anyone, got married. People probably make promises just to break them.