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My online journal, diary, thoughts -- the part of my life I want to share. |
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Okay. My first blog in WDC. I have been wishing for a blog to express my thoughts publicly for quite sometimes now. Since I do not use Facebook, I cannot participate in many healthy debates in the social media. Let's see if the WDC blog can fulfill this wish of mine. I will write something... 'dear diary' type on my first entry. So here it goes: I had a lazy day today. Haven't worked at office. Spent my entire time doing nothing, pretending to work and addafying (hanging out) with colleagues. And yes WDCing... 
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| I am feeling low. SO what's new? I am trying to understand myself. It is 10 am and in about 3 hours I have an interview. But to be honest I don't want to prepare for the interview or get selected for this job. Then the question arise why am I ever going for the interview. The honest answer is ' I am pretending.' I am showing the world that I am trying to get a job, when the truth is I am not trying hard. I do not like the job opportunities available here in Canada. Jobs where I have to sell things, sell myself (not the physical kind). Yes I want to earn a honest living... but telling people to buy something is not my cup of tea. I sometimes wonder if I am sabotaging my chances of surviving in Canada. Am I? In the hope that my inability to adjust, to create a life here in Canada will ultimately lead my husband to let go of me? Do I want him to say ' it's time to part our ways?' But I like holding on to him. Wouldn't I like to whisk him off to my country and make a living there? But I know that dream is near to impossible. He won't be happy there, won't get the health benefits he enjoys here, his musical scene will disappear not to mention the distance with his family and of course, the LANGUAGE barrier. It is silly of me to think that way.. but I can't help it. I love my husband... I think I do... but I cannot seem to open my heart to Canada. Why then am I going for the interview? I need a job, I need money but I don't want this job... not this one .... |
| In a strange mood, trying to understand the life around me... Question: A large number of people in North America do not believe in any God, let alone the Christian God, but why do they then celebrate Christmas --- frantically spending money buying gifts, getting themselves stuck in shopping traffics, buying a dead tree and decorating it with trinkets even when they cannot afford to cover their daily grocery budget, crossing the limit of their debit or credit card buying stuff which most of the other people they are buying for do not need? Many of them call themselves rationale, scientific-minded and secular but then how do they explain the Christmas behaviour? They don't celebrate any other religious festivals such as Hannukah or Eid or Diwali, so why do they call themselves secular? Even 'Charity' --- there are hungry and needy people all year round, so why just go contribute in community kitchen only once a year, only during Christmas? I may sound prejudiced, perhaps I am. Here's how I see it. I grew up in a Muslim family and my family went through the same behaviour during Eid-ul-Fitr. But when I declared myself non-religious, I stopped buying new expensive clothes during Eid. If I felt like giving something to someone I gave them whenever I thought of that person, may be during his/ her birthday or just anytime during the year, when say you are walking by a shop and you see something, which reminds you of your loved one and you buy that thing for him/her. I did not wait till Eid to give that gift to that person. I stopped needing occasions to convey to someone I love them/ or I am thinking about them. It is true that in our country, you have extra cash during Eid because in most offices they pay you festival bonus. As far as I know, such a thing does not exists in most North American workplace. There is no Christmas bonus. So why would a 'rationale', 'secular' and 'non-religious' person in North America behave in the same way as a religious person or someone who says s/he believes in God? I understand the spending time with 'Family' part because this is the only time when most offices are closed/ or give paid vacations to employees, so it makes sense to utilise the time and visit your friends and families, but the rest of the behaviour on part of people who claim themselves to be non-believers or atheists do not make sense to me. I wish someone could explain that part to me and also the secular issue. The secular issue: North America claims itself to be a Christian society but all you can see in most neighbourhoods are different kinds of churches and most people hardly know anything about other religions. On the other hand, my country Bangladesh used to have a secular word in its constitution and you would see mosques as well as temples in most neighbourhoods (although after the recent rise of extremism temples are being torched to the ground) and most Bangladeshis know what Eid, Christmas, Puja, and Buddha Purnima is. Same is true in most cities of India. In SriLanka, a Buddhist country, as you enter Colombo (the capital) you would first see a large Buddha, then Christ/ Mother Mary will appear on more or less every other turn and tucked amidst that are statues of Ganesha, the Trishool and the crescent adorned mosque towers. So we South Asians are not secular but North Americans with their plethora of churches are? May be I am getting the entire concept of Christmas wrong. Perhaps this is just a cultural thing. Perhaps, it is difficult for me to understand, because in my country there are non-religious cultural and national festivals which people of all race, religion, ethnicity celebrate --- Pohela Boishakh, Biju, Sangrain or Shankrant or our Victory Day or Independence Day (I am not mentioning the International Mother Language Day because it is more of a sombre occasion than fiery festival). I hope I do not sound like I am suffering from superiority complex. |
| So I admit I am a lazy housewife. Good-for-nothing, yet my husband (newly married) loves me to bits and so I am spoiled. Here's what I do most of the days--- 1) get up between 10:30 to 11 am and call my mother/ elder sister or chat with the younger one. 2) Prepare or cook my tea depending on the extent of my laziness 3) clean the dishes on the sink and leave them to dry off 4) on days, I feel grateful for being loved or when I want my hubby to do things for me, I make his coffee and wake him up and then sit and talk with him for about an hour before getting up to prepare his lunch and other house chores including the bed. 5) when he leaves for work, I prepare my lunch (mostly leftovers) eat it, take a nap, watch some X-rated stuff on the laptop, and enjoy myself, shower, think about whether I want to cook something or not. Then attempt to cook, spent time online browsing nothing... okay mostly reading Trump updates. Sometimes between 5-11pm hubby calls from work and we spend an hour chatting about nothing on phone and finally by 12pm my alone-ness gets me and I start fidgeting. 6) By the time hubby's home I am hungry and often cranky, wishing he would stop loitering around and cook me dinner.. no, to be honest cook us dinner. 7) after dinner by 1:30 am to 2.. time for PG woodhouse and bed by 2:30-3am. How different is it from Dhaka bachelor life? I would wake up an hour earlier and there will be tea on the table and the morning paper. Then breakfast. Then chatting with bf (now hubby) on Skype. Then often an event to go to and report on that. Back home to good cooked food all ready waiting for me. After quick shower gobble the delicious lunch and head to office stay there till -- do a little work and lots of tea breaks and coming home at 9:30pm or 10pm. Chatting with bf (now hubby) till 12:30am and going to bed around 1 or 2 am. Dhaka - No dishes, no cooking or attempt to cook. Toronto - No office work. Am I happy?.. Well... I am not sad. Happy most of the time... |
| This one as it has been going on since his vacation... I wake up usually before him ... after the morning cleaning, I clean the kitchen sink-- do the dishes from last night or put them away while I cook my tea. Then I would talk with my kith and kin till he gets up makes coffee and goes to our balcony to have cigarette and coffee...I go join him and we talk about the things we need doing through out the day.. he makes a list. and then we go about doing those... hmmm I need tea |
| I don't know if time is flying by or time is going slowly.. but suddenly... everything.. seem to be..I dont know how to explain this. We had Bangladeshi lunch today. NO, I didn't cook. I bought it. actually we bought it. and he LOVED it. He said he would love to come home to such dinner every night.. and I told him not to push his expectations of me high. But yes.. I would love to cook good food for my husband...even if i feel lazy n sleepy |
| I know it is mistake. I have made a mistake. But stubbornly, I want to live through it, see it to its end. Can it kill me? No. It can break me yes. But the end of I don't know when I will be a financially broke. A broken, person. I know my friends will tell me to reconsider.. but I dont want to. I want to live this mistake and see to its end. |
| I knew it was a thankless job. My mom didn't even get the half-hearted thank you, I got last night after the over cooked onions and the chickens floating in ghee. And the beds lying in the bedroom --- undone, dishes in the sink and I cant get over my blues.I forced myself up, took out the garbage, bought the milk, tried to forgive him and make lunch (but couldn't add a smile) and I dont feel like cooking anything tonight. All I want to do today is sleep and come to terms with my decision. Yes I have made a mistake but crying over spilled milk won't help. I have to clean the spilled milk and deal with the empty bottle... |
| So there's a chicken in the sink and I am hoping it is a chicken and then.... Question no. 1) how do I know it is good? Question no. 2) how do I know it is ready to be cut into pieces Question no. 3) why do I feel so disgusted. It is my 11th day as a housewife. To be honest most of the days I did not try to be one. Today I really really honestly and with all my heart want to cook something for my hubby (2b). And there are many many chicken in the freezer I suppose. I am guessing they are chickens. But they can be anything else... how do I know. I always ate it, hardly ever cooked it and when I did it was cut into pieces. How am I going to cut it .. that too I dont know. I do have three hours before Hubby comes home.. I am thinking if I should go to the neighbour's place and show him or ask him to show me how to make the pieces but I feel so shy..what would people say. And I should be ashamed. I am 38 and a woman and I can't tell chicken from beef or other meat...  I miss my hubby now..  Ok time to call mother.... |
| I am going to bed as the mall shooting unfolds in another part of the world. By the time I wake up who knows how many lives will be put to sleep forever. In this time, when certainty of life appears really diminished (I have not lived in other centuries except the 20th when all I needed to worry were mostly road accidents), I am set out to make a journey to be with the person I love, to make a new home. Sounds like a irony, that when people would prefer to stay indoors with their closest relations, worried about existing life... all I should be bogged down with is my new life with a person, who I want to me my closest relation. I used to worry.. I still do at times worry about what will happen with so many problems that face the success of a marriage --- social, economical, cultural, personal--- but then when a terror attack takes place, all I think of is I should take life as it comes each day. Because I will be one of the most luckiest persons on earth if I can make it another week, alive, and reach my beloved arms safe and sound in one piece, breathing. |
| A lazy mind gets agitated soon. I wait the entire day for him, all eager and happy but he comes to me tired and sleepy, to drowsy to see my disappointments. This is what will happen when my world would centre and revolve around him. I would be edgy, too vulnerable to everything that he won't say or do. I need to find a world beside his. A world of my own other people to spent time with, like how I looked forward to going to office to be with my colleagues to chat with them, become knowledgeable about world affairs. I need to socialise. He cannot be my social world. I cannot expect him to be. Being a happy and content wife is going to be a challenge without any productive work the whole day. It feels like I am signing up for unhappiness. But then there is the dilemma that I still feel unhappy when I think of avoiding him, not talking with him. I need to keep myself busy. I need a friend. He can't fill up all the roles...No I need more than one friend. I need work. Otherwise, I will keep on digging my abysmal grave of negative thoughts. I need work. |
| Today's weird! A headache and heartache balancing on a trapeze. And I am dwindling, sometimes to the left and then sharply turning right. I am a parasite and I hope you realise, that my love for you might be dangerous leaving you all empty and tired. And I am afraid too, because I love you. Yes I do. Hurting you, is the last thing on my mind. But I need to admit, I am a parasite. Will I be good for you? I doubt it. But I am greedy, greedy like a lice. You understand that, don't you? I have never been loved the way you love me. What human tread this earth to shun away such love? And I am only a greedy parasite, looking for a body to reside. You know the reason I love you, that has not changed. I still crave for your kiss, hug, touch, wait for you to call me your best friend. What will you do C, how can you manage me? I do worry, worry a lot, because a part of me, want to be a little more than a parasite. |
| Yes I still struggle at times and get anxious when they creep in. But the question rises why? Why do I need to think of ending my life if my marriage fails. Is saving my face, the possible insults from others, snide comments from family, friends and relatives stronger and more valuable than each of these molecules of oxygen I am inhaling? Why am I afraid of living the life of a defeated person? There in this world are people who had put a lot more at stake and were proved wrong. Think of Cameron. If the world plunges into financial crisis, would he stop living? And my fault/ sin/ crime would be putting my family's reputation at stake for my own happiness and if I fail at it, people will laugh at my parents and me. "We knew she couldn't handle the cold/ the different lifestyle/ the hardship." "We knew she would come back." They would say... I survived 12 years after my suicide attempt in 2004. And I loved again and not only did I live and I want to live more now... so why why do I let the dark monster that lingers around tell me... 'Failure is a shame.' People fail. They make mistakes. not once but many many times. Not everyone's destined to be successful in this world. If I cannot adjust, cannot accept... that cannot be the end of the road. Yes losing love is never never easy...and when you think you have found it you don't want to let it go.. But my dear Tammy remember 'Nothing is permanent.' So let's be courageous and live, you won't get a second life, my dear. |
| I wonder if I should call it a wedding gift or a home coming present? But it is a gift no doubt and one to start my new life with. It's big and shiny. No not a diamond. But something with a higher intrinsic value. No not a gold bar or a golden geese or even a car. Something useful. Something I would need to start my mornings with. Something only a thoughtful person, one who cares about me would think of buying. Something homely, domestic... Something that tells me that I will be in good hands. I wish my parents could see it and they would know... A round pan with a glass lid to cook my morning tea. |
| I was looking at dresses last night on the internet --- maxi/ crinkle dresses, price ranges, stores. You might think, what is there to brag/ write about this. Had you known me like I do (which I guess is not possible because I know myself in a totally different way than anyone else does), you would have hiccups reading the first line of this write up. I WAS LOOKING AT DRESSES! ME TAMANNA KHAN! I was acting like a typical woman, one whose world revolves around jewelry, clothing, household items, things I never identified with. But recently, I am noticing some changes in me. Was there this typical woman always inside me? The other day, my friend wrote she likes cooking now and planning things for her house. She wrote about this change in her attitude towards household chores and not careers/ job enhancement. I was never a career person but household things didn't attract me either. But nowadays, I do think about the home 12000 miles away... Would I really like household chores? Cooking and cleaning? Well, I have not been spending my time looking for jobs. Instead I looked for dresses. The unnecessary spending attitude of women. Even the mean-spirit often so blatant among some female has surfaced in me. My friend who said would come on the wedding day is planning to wear a Jamdani. As much as I was happy that there would be someone in the house to help me dress, I was saddened/ felt jealous/ disturbed that she too is going to wear a Jamdami... I was thinking like a typical woman 'It is my special day. Only I want to look good.' My friend is good looking and would look dashing in a Jamdani and steal the day... I thought. Mean-minded. mean-minded thoughts.. Is this really happening? Am I changing? |
| It is official now! From July 26th I am no longer Sr Reporter of The Daily Star. My resignation was accepted today. 6 years. Not a long time. But it has been quite a while that I was away from a work. Unemployed. In the past most unemployment periods had to do with my anger and frustration issues. For the 2nd time in the life I am leaving behind this job to pursue an uncertain future in a foreign land. So what if I am disappointed? What if I never get to go there? Would I go back? No. I have left that place, it should be for good. What next then? I will have to look for some other jobs/perhaps take rest/ go back to tutoring children. How can I be so confident at my age? In my country I think with my skill, I should be able to cook up something. And my mom knows how to keep me busy with chores. I will think of something. There is no point of being afraid anymore. People all over the world do so many things for love. The young Iranian woman who risks being caught and executed because of her choice of lover, still lives with her. All I did was give up my job, something that does not even pay for my food or rent. Why then should I be afraid? I have started a journey, there's no turning back now.... I will see it to its end. I must. But then it doesn't mean that the journey has become an imposition for me. No, it is something I want to do with all my heart. I am not leaving my heart at The Daily Star or even in this noisy room I have come to call my home. My heart's coming with me, bringing in all the sights, sounds touches of 38 years. At the destination, awaits more for my senses I hope. |
| When I see how he is preparing his house for me, how things are changing, the storage closet, the balcony, that never had a plant in the last five years, I question --- what is love? Is it just the chemical reactions, the raging passion on bed, fluid flowing from one body to the other? If so, why do I feel that he cares? Why do I find myself without words and often with doubts about my own feelings? Am I leaving everything for his love only? Isn't there more to that than just the motivation to be with him? I know he would say, it is a good thing to have doubts and even better if there are other motivations in his land for me. But I wonder.... Or is it something else? I am not just used to having someone bring changes in his life for me. A person who never was loved this way find this flabbergasting? My colleague taunts me --- for being so romantic at my age / at his age. We should be counting our days to the grave, not thinking of a building a new home... hoping perhaps a new member will join our world. It should be a closed chapter, that' what we should be writing... not start a fresh new novel. I sometimes fear, is my colleague right? If we fail, we will be the laughing stock for everyone. Honour, to save our face, we should never venture to love at our age and face the risk of being considered and named as 'old fools'? But then when I come home, my colleague is not there to make me love, to wait for me.. to plant seeds for me, to make me feel loved. My colleague who made his home earlier in life is in his own house with his three children and loving wife. So why can't I be a little foolish? why cant my future husband a little foolish and have that same joy which my colleague( who made the right decision and it somehow worked out for him at a younger age)has. Perhaps the seeds will never sprout into plants, for spring is gone, and the summer sun is too late to reach his balcony.. but does that mean he should just give up and throw the seeds away... inside the cold earth, the seeds will find a home, different from that of the sack, stored in shelves of big super malls. It will be a different life for the seeds, even if they never grow into plants. |
| It happened twice yesterday. Once at office and another time when I was talking to my fiance. I felt that someone or something was standing behind me. I turned my head and both times of course there were nothing. Then at bed it happened, for a few seconds I thought I was dying. There was no shortness of breath or difficulty breathing, no pain except for the continuous dull pain on the right side of the chest. But then I felt that my heart beat rate for a few seconds went fast really fast, the way it happens when I climb stairs... but all I was doing was lying down flat on bed. Yes I panicked. I thought if I should shout and call my family members in other rooms. But it was late and I thought, no use making them worry if it is not a heart attack. Then all I wanted to do is call him and leave him a message... tell him that I love him. Not that he doesn't know. But it seemed more important. And that is the weird thing that I feel kind of responsible, tied to him.. this bondage.. where if the Angel of Death comes, I need to tell that thing, 'wait I need to say goodbye to the one I made a promise to............. Life is strange. Do we really get time to think about our loved ones before the last molecule of oxygen escapes our body? |
| He is a serious man. Not a shirk like me. He does something if he sets his heart to it. And despite my complaints I appreciate that in him. Is that why I love him? Perhaps. I was worried how my perceived-not-right hubby would take my inconsiderate mean-spirited thoughts. And what I saw were the boxes in the background and a really tired sleepy face. And I begun to have doubts about my own doubts. My hubby has a full-time job which requires him to work late at night. He comes home after midnight and unlike me has to prepare his own food, wash his own clothes (he had to do all these even when he fell very sick couple of months ago)and do everything by himself. You may be wondering what's so novel in that? For me it is so. I, who never have to do anything in the house. Who lives in a place full of maids an if the maids are on holidays, my mother is there is princess me up (that's an expression that I made up). So yeah, the work my hubby does compared to what I do the whole day long is almost 10 times and like I said before he is no shirker. And yet he took on a project of cleaning his house and getting it ready for me. He wont admit it though but I know he is doing it for me. Why should it be a big deal? Something worth writing about? Well he is a lot older than me and has aches in his arms, and has no sisters or mother to help him around with all the works he is doing ( he has sisters but they don't live in the same house). It is an extra load that he has taken on himself, just so I can be comfortable. Would I be gushing about this if he was a young man living with his family like most men in Bangladesh do? Probably not. I look in the mirror and the face that appears is full of fat and symptoms of dark lines. The body also have fat marks and no one would take a look twice, not even me. My hair's so white and black that the saree saleswoman won't even believe that I could get married. Why would any young man want to marry me? I am saying this not to mean that I came easy to my hubby. Or he thought I would be an easy catch because I am ugly. He never had an ugly girlfriend all his life, not even the last one, which was not very many years ago. And when we frenziedly wrote to each other, he didn't know I was ugly. But to others our story might be this: an ugly middle-aged woman not finding any suitors in her own country going for an senior citizen across the globe or a senior citizen not finding interested young women in his country settling for an ugly woman from a poor nation. I know the latter is not true because my hubby female friends are younger than me, beautiful and talented (musically). There is another truth beyond that, which neither I nor my hubby can explain to others, if people ever have the eyes they will see it for themselves and I just hope that we --- my hubby, my own imperfect man and the his imperfect wife, would be able to live by that truth. Amen! |
| I took my shirking to a completely new level today. Wrote to boss number 1 in the morning: I will be late; Got stuck in a personal matter. He replied okay. A couple of hours later, I told boss number 2: I can't come to office toady for a personal reason. And the personal reason is I went 'SHOPPING' with my sisters. Shopping for my own wedding --- the saree. The good thing is I did get a Saree. Yes it is red and it's a Dhakai Jamdani and it is beautiful although my sisters probably did not like it, nor my mom and I am suspicious if my hubby-to-be would have preferred the one with golden leafs and flowers motif? All these sound happy and sweet, doesn't it. But beneath it lies lots of surprises and shocks. I am discovering myself afresh. I, Tamanna Khan, do care about the silly side of weddings --- dresses, jewelry etc etc. I didn't know these mattered to me, until I actually have a wedding. Would you believe me if I told you that I fussed so much about the saree that we had to literally run from shop to shop and drive across the city sitting in the hot stifling Dhaka jam for more than 5 hours total? From morning till evening, our day was spent with one single agenda in mind --- a red Dhakai Jamdani. And it cost my sisters (they are giving that to me as a wedding gift, although in our culture it is the groom's family who buy the bride's dresses and vice-versa, but. But then I am not having a normal wedding, perhaps it will be a normal marriage but not a normal conventional wedding). okay now for some very very hard evil truths. I checked the website. I could have brought a wedding gown (a used one) for $100 or $150 in Toronto. And there are gold wedding bands for $100. So if wedding is just a ceremony to legalise or document the marriage of two hearts, why did I spend or allow my sisters to spend so much for these clothes and accessories? Why couldn't I be happy with something cheap/ less expensive? Why do I need a nice new saree to wear at the wedding? Why a ring that is strong? Why not a one that is flimsy and might break, as the jeweler was explaining? If a bond between the heart breaks, how would a strong gold wedding band hold it together. If a wedding band breaks, does that mean it would end the marriage? You can argue, that how much I am willing to spend for the wedding band or the clothes in a way shows how much I value my marital bond with this person. Can I measure it with money? Can I even try to? My future husband is not the richest man in the world and he takes pride in it. So should I say that he values our marriage less because he cannot spend a lot for the wedding (besides he thinks its silly, rationally thinking --- he is right)? On the contrary, I know my non-rich hubby values our relationship more than I do. You should have seen the sparkle in his eyes which glittered more than gold when he came and told me he ordered the ring. I had a frown on my face when I ordered his. A rich man's daughter, I was thinking..value for money.. like a businessman's daughter. I was looking for a deal; My man looked for what he can afford. Do you see the difference? Money can't buy love. His money couldn't buy my love because he did not have any money. My money (actually my father's) couldn't buy his love because he didn't want that money. I am selfish. I am calculative. And all I pray is that I continue to see beyond the green paper, that I continue to see that the most precious thing he gifts me is his love (I wanted to write unconditional, but I can't be so haughty). Only three months left for that day.... the fear that this dream journey with the man who loves me so much might come to an abrupt end continues to haunt me... |
| Life. Every morning I make the list. 1) Tell my father 2) Book ticket 3) Order Ring 4) Tell my boss (resignation??!) 5) Buy small gifts for new family 6) Listing what to carry And then I day dream either about him or about every single moment. Like a improvised play, I wake up, make tea, practice raga, call my Maa, wake him up, while he talks, make his breakfast (if he eats) and pack his lunch (I hope he lets me do that), say goodbye as he hurries to office, relax a little.. then what? go online and look for jobs? practice piano? write in WDC, go for a walk in the neighbourhood and making myself familiar, learn to cook? watch a documentary? work on the book-shelf project? And wait and wait for him to come home.... Can Toronto make me feel at home? Or will it be like New York? Hard to breathe, cold, foreign and depressing. Home is where your heart is. In New York my heart was in Dhaka. In Toronto my heart is in Toronto. Can Toronto be my home? |
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Very slow. But productive, too. Writing has taken a huge backseat to life...
~Adrie
Well, many of us are 
