The Naming of Cats

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have three different names.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But the cat himself knows, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effableEffanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

- T. S. Eliot

Randomness

Hmmmmmmm....

I think I'm getting the cold shoulder from a colleague and I've got no idea why.

NSC and NSR

I sterted work at the NS Group in Feb this year. I was extremely happy to get in, even though, originally it was for once a week, which then turned out to be 4 days a week and now down to 2, sometimes 3 days. That aside, I was fortunate to get in because this job gives an overview of the entire medical records department rather than a section of it, which would have been the case in a large hospital. NSR gets about 5 discharges a week and NSC probably about 15. NSR gives me the opportunity to learn all the tricks of the trade of MRD. I get to be pretty much Queen B at NSR (it needs only one person to manage), which means I get to work with my own system and get the hang of it in my own pace, and I can also hum all the tunes out of me since I'm the only one in the room.

Yes, very nice. And so there's a "but". The most difficult part of this job is the coding. ... Well, not so much the actual coding process, but the stories you have to wade through to extract the codes. SubhanAllah! In the beginning I used to read through almost every entry made by the doctors and nurses, and almost every sentence of the admission and discharge summary. It's good start off reading everything, because as you go, you begin to skim through the paragraphs and pick out only the necessary words. Alhamdulillah, I've reached that stage and I mostly don't have to read the stories, but even so, sometimes I come across a record that has such a story that I start following it without intending to or realisingit.

I've read some horrible stories. Before this, I had no idea, not even given it a thought, as to what kind of situations in life could lead a person to seek mental health treatment. There are some shocking stories out there. Vetarens that have recurring images of war in their minds, some vets who are certain that they murdered an innocent person, people attempting suicide or wishing they didn't live anymore, people cutting themselves or other kinds of self harm, schizoaffective and schizophrenic patients acting and thinking things that would be torture for me if I were in there place.

These are only the types of stories that will not make you cringe when you hear them. I've read stories that I really think I should never be exposed to. These are the stories you just have to skim over. You are likely to regret it if you give in and start reading the stories. Because they don't just stay on the page as just a story. They are connected to real people. Someone out there actually went through such misery to lead them to think that may be they are too broken to be able to cope without professional assistant. And not just seek it once or twice, but some need to come back year after year, being admitted may be at least once every year.

Even thought I skim throught it, picking up the main story is mostly unavoidable. And so, knowing that this is the story of a real person every time I code, I sometimes don't want to ignore it. I feel somewhat inhumane to do that. And it goes without saying that you would get affected by these stories, no matter how much you try to ignore. I had a dream tonight that I was quite late for work because I was on the phone with another company that was offering me an interview. During the call I was interrupted by my own self that was speaking in a different style than me. It was like having a three-way phone conversation, except I was not speaking while my other self spoke. And before I knew it, it was past 1pm by the time the conversation finished, of which I was "unconscious" for the last 4 hours or so. I realised at the end of it that I was going through a schizophrenic episode throughout that time.

I'll admit, that's not the only way these stories affect me. But it's probably best not get into it for fear of further alienation.

But then again, who am I talking to anyway? It's only me out here. Hopefully.

AWW - there is something wrong with this concept...

Oh yes. I'm obsessed.

Narrated Ibn 'Umar (R): I heard Allah's Messenger (S) saying,

"Allah will bring a believer near Him and shelter him with His Screen and ask him: 'Did you commit such and such sins?' He will say: 'Yes, my Lord". Allah will keep on asking him till he will confess all his sins and will think that he is ruined. Allah will say: 'I did screen your sins in the world and I forgive them for you today', and then he will be given the book (record) of his good deeds. Regarding disbelievers and hypocrites (their evil acts will be exposed publicly) the witnesses will say: 'These are the ones who lied against their Lord. No doubt! The Curse of Allah is on the Zalimun."

Reported in Sahih Al-Bukhari

やっぱり 夢だ!!!

স্বপ্নটা এমনই সত্যি লাগলো যে আমি টেবিলে আমার লামী সাফারী কলমটা খোঁজা শুরু করলাম!
হায়! আমাকে কেন এমন একটা গিফট কেউ করে না?

May be I should try to force it out of E2. Perfect victim! Muahahaha!!!


... One should go to sleep when one is intoxicated by the coming of the humble night.

Message in a ... phone (where else?)

E2:
Your cats at the window. Open the door. - 5/6/09, 10:59pm.
Your cats at my window - 5/6/09, 11:11pm.
Open the door your cats at the window. - 8/6/09, 12:54am (!!!)
"first point, your ferrets missing. Second your vacuum's blocked." - 20/4/09, 7:32pm.

1: sleeping?
2: how about in 50 min?
3: anything i can do to change your mind?
4: but wait, where are you my manners? how are you. still feeling unwell?
5: take the you out
6: gujai masu

pst... hey you, yeah you...

むかつく~~~~!!!!!

もう! 結婚 とか ない とか - もう しりません!!!

なんで 人世 は こう よう こと です か???

しっ~. しる か.

E feels like an idiot. Big time.

Scrap that. E IS an idiot. Big time idiot.

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!

Airey-fairy light and fluffy...

I feel exhilaratingly happy to have a huge burden lifted off me! EXHILARATING, I TELLS YOU!

...

"When I was about 23, I did a "reference check" of a guy my friend was supposed to marry."

That's gonna sound sooo cool to my kids 18 years later! Oh Allah! Let me live to that point so I can say that to my kids! (Oh Allah, let me live long enough to carry it out first.)

Light and fluffy amongst the doom and gloom

IT IS A TRUTH universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains. Never was this truth more plain than during the recent attacks at Netherfield Park, in which a household of eighteen was slaughtered and consumed by a horde of the living dead.
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is occupied again?”
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not and went about his morning business of dagger sharpening and musket polishing—for attacks by theunmentionables had grown alarmingly frequent in recent weeks.

That’s not even remotely funny. ... There’s more to it?! ... A whole book?!!! “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies”?!! ... and complete with illustration?!
I’ll stop questioning imaginary comments and come to the point. Well, just that, really. A book has come out in Borders Australia called Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. It appears that the entire book was written on the plot of Austen’s original work but with a background of zombie interference. To me it seems like a pretty sad project to take up by an author. It's a real waste of talent, asuming he has some. And it's worse to publish it, and worse yet to sell it in a well-known, well-respected bookstore. Why someone would go out of their way to ruin a reasonably good classic is beyond me.

Here’s the link to the first 10 pages, of which I stopped after the first half page. Any thoughts? ... Anyone out there?

There is just so much to say that it's safer to keep this post empty

Fetish for Fountain Pens

The Lamy Safari Charcoal

চোখের জলে আমি সমুদ্র ভেজালাম

মারুব্রা গিয়েছিলাম। এবার একা। আকাশ ছিল মেঘলা, পানি ছিল গাঢ়, মন ছিল উৎফুল্ল্য। আমার মন যত ঢেউ, যত anticipation, যত লাগাম-ছারা আনন্দ, মারুব্রার ঢেউয়ে তা দেখতে পেলাম। পানিটা সুন্দরভাবে ধীরে উঠে গিয়ে আছড়ে পরে আসে, যেন তরিঘরি করে পাল্লা দিয়ে তীরে আসতে আসতে মিলিয়ে যায়।

আমার নাকি বেশি সাহশ হয়ে গেছে - একা একা মারুব্রাতে গেলাম বলে। ভয় কিসের? আমাকে কেউ মেরে ফেলবে? একটা রেসিডেন্সিয়াল এরিয়ার সামনে? কার ঠেকা পরছে এত? One in a million চ্যান্সের ভয়ে আমি এত সুন্দর জায়গা মিস করব? - নেভারমোর!


Speaking of "Nevermore", I bought a treasure today - "The complete tales and poems of Edgar Allan Poe". He was a genius, yes, but he was also a madman. Allahu A'lam why he was mad, but it seems that he really truely did love his wife very much - 'Writing the effects of Virginia's death, Poe said, "I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity. During those fits of absolute unconsciousness, I drank ... my enemies referred the insanity to the drink, rather than the drink to the insanity." Whether he died from alcohol poisoning or liver failiur/damage, or the election-related conspiracy, he was, undoubtedly, a man with great literary skills. In the forty years of his life, he was able to put his skills in practical use more from when he was about 23. By the time he had died, he had written enough to fill a 1000+ page book, in Times New Roman 9.

Time for sleep

A Thousand Thoughts ... A Thousand Tears

• A girl about 12 years old is having relationship with a boy of 13. Why are children of today, or any day for that matter, not as simple and sensible as I am??
  "Oh simple thing, where have you gone?
  They're getting old and they need something good to rely on."
• There are child labourings going on in Bangladesh, where children are risking their health and lives for 400-700 taka a month, while the well-off watch international news on their 175,000 taka LCD TV.
• The rich man's burden.
• My 16 year old cousin is miserable from friendship problems quite possibly because his father happens to be in the army.
• I have the biggest dilemma of my life re pursuing knowledge vs working towards politics, and giving up one of them.
• Fighting the biggest jihad of my life currently, and trying to heal a wound that has been exacerbated for 13 years.

Life becomes more and more unbearable every day, as more faults within myself and the world become apparent. The uncertainty of my own future, near and far, does not help. This blog, which started out on such a happy happy note, is now recording the thouhts of a "tortured soul".

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven's glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.

O God within my breast,
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life--that in me has rest,
As I--undying Life--have power in thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thine infinity;
So surely anchored on
The stedfast rock of immortality.

With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.

Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou were left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.

There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou--THOU art Being and Breath,
And what THOU art may never be destroyed

- Em Bronte

Everybody's Fool

Perfect by nature
Icons of self indulgence
Just what we all need
More lies about a world that

Never was and never will be
Have you no shame?
Don't you see me?
You know you've got everybody fooled

Look here she comes now
Bow down and stare in wonder
Oh how we love you

No flaws when you're pretending
But now I know she

Never was and never will be
You don't know how you've betrayed me
And somehow you've got everybody fooled

Without the mask, where will you hide?
Can't find yourself lost in your lie
I know the truth now
I know who you are
And I don't love you anymore

It Never was and never will be
You don't know how you've betrayed me
And somehow you've got everybody fooled

It never was and never will be
You're not real and you can't save me
Somehow now you're everybody's fool

"Ranting while I'm venting"

They are so concerned with creating their own little world that they have forgotten the little people who have no support, because they themselves have grown up with such strong support.

It is the same as those living rich in Bangladesh. Those who have grown up in a big house, building their own apartment complexes and living in a rich neighbourhood. And when they leave their little haeven to fulfill more luxuries, they are exposed to the fruits of their lifestyles - those who have very little to live by - the poorest of the poor of the country. Refusing to even look at these people, as if they are to be blamed for their own downfall.

So it is for those with Islamic background, flourishing in their supportive families, in their firm bacgrounds. Flourishing with more knowledge and consolidating their organisation even more, ... so much that they have forgotten to look outside of their their little box. "Let's all make dua for all those Muslims around the world who are suffering hardships" - MY GOD! THERE ARE MUSLIMS SUFFERRING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU! THE ONES WHO KEEP ON COMING BACK TO, YOU DESPITE THEIR OWN SELVES AND IN A PAINFULLY PITYFUL WAY, TO LOOK FOR YOUR SUPPORT!! AND YOU DISMISS THEM!!! Just like the rich blaming the poor for the state they have put them in, YOU - who "are trying to create an Islamic society" - are blaming those poor of a firm Islamic support for the state they are in.

SO HOW DARE YOU EVEN TALK ABOUT THEIR NEED TO PUT IN MORE EFFORT TO BE AT YOUR LEVEL WHEN YOU YOURSELF ARE SO LOW???

I honestly cannot say anymore. The more I think on it, the more I get angry at those people. This post is not up for discussion. Keep any comments to yourselves.

Feeling bothered beyond imagination.

Wallet/Money bag/ Purse/Vanity bag

এই জিনিসটা আমাকে সারাজীবন ভোগাল। আমার হাতে একটা মানিব্যাগ আসার পর থেকে সেটা বার বার হারিয়ে যায়। জীবনে বোধহয় ১৫/১৬ বার বিভিন্ন মানিব্যাগ হারানো আমার হয়ে গিয়েছে। সত্যি বলছি। আল্লাহর অশেষ দয়ায় আমি একবার ছাড়া আর প্রতিবার ফিরে পেয়েছি। এবং সেই একবার ছিল ২০০৩-এ যখন বাংলাদেশে গেলাম। আমার লেটেস্ট হারানোটা ছিল একটু ভিন্ন জায়গায় - মালয়েশিয়া এয়ারপোর্ট। মানিব্যাগ হাতে করে গেলাম ইনফর্মেশনে জিগাসা করতে যে পোস্টকার্ড পোস্ট করব কোথায়। ইনফর্মেশন ডেস্কে মানিব্যাগ রেখে পোস্টকার্ডে লিখলাম। কাছেই পোস্টবক্স - ঢুকিয়ে দিলাম পোস্টকার্ড। এখন গন্থব্যে পৌছে গেলেই হয়; দুইদিন তো চলে গেল, কোন সারাশব্দ পাই না।



যাই হোক, কর্ম সেরে লাফিয়ে লাফিয়ে গেলাম গেট C32। ভেবেছিলাম বোর্ডিং-এর আর ৫/১০ মিনিট বাকি আছে। জিগাসা করে দেখলাম, না, আধঘন্টার মত আছে, এবং ব্রেনে সমস্যা। আবার লাফিয়ে লাফিয়ে ব্যাক করলাম শপিং এরিয়ার দিকে - এবার একটু ধীরে লাফ। কম্পিউটার দেখে ভাবলাম একটু ব্লগ চেক করা যায়। ১০, ২০ বা ৫০ সেন্ট লাগবে - অন্ধের মত ব্যাগে হাত ঢুকালাম। মানিব্যাগ হাতে ঠেকল না। চোখ দিয়ে খুজলাম - নাই! আমার এবার হা-হুতাশ করার পালা। কি করি, কি করি? আচ্ছা, কাউকে জিজ্ঞেস করি। দুইটা ইউনিফর্ম পরা মানুষকে ধরলাম।



-Excuse me. I've just lost my wallet just a while ago, can you tell me what I can do? (What am I saying? I'm not making any sense) How can I find it? (Oh gad, I've completely lost my marbles!)

- You should inform the police.

- (And they will do what, exactly? These guys are making less sense than me) Where will I find them? Um, my flight is actually in an hour.

- You can go to information desk. It's straight from here.

- (Of course I can) Thanks.



হন্তদন্ত হয়ে হেটে গেলাম ইনফর্মেশন ডেস্কের দিকে। প্রথমে পরবে পোস্টকার্ড শপ। ওখানে গিয়ে প্রথমে একবার ঢু' মারি। দোকানে ঢোকার পথে শুনি "Can ******* **** come to the Information Desk please? Can ******* **** come to the Information Desk?" নিজের নাম শুনে আত্তাটা এত জুড়ায়নি কোনদিন। মানিব্যাগটা আবার হাতে পাওয়ার পর কত কৃতজ্ঞতা ঝুলে ছিল ঠোটে, কিন্তু বেরলো শুধু "Thank you. Thank you so much." এবং আল্লাহর কাছে হাজার শুকরিয়া।

তেমন কিছু না

১২ দিন পর নরম পানিতে স্যাম্পু করে এতো আরাম লাগছে যে চুল ধরতেই ঘুম এসে যাচ্ছে।

"Sometimes I think the world is like a huge ant heap full of insects all busily manufacturing insecticide"
- Desmond Bagley in The Enemy

Having the name "Robin / Abu" still on my msn list doesn't feel weird. When I see it now, I still instinctively think to myself, 'Oh dear. I hope he doesn't come online now cos I'm kinda busy'.

I know this is a sentimental entry appearing on my public blog. I don't care. I need to yell it out ... silently.

Since it is public, I should probably clarify some things. Robin is a second cousin, and in the opinion of many of my relatives, there couldn't be a better son. As old as he was, he preferred to stay with his parents, taking care of them, instead of settling down with a family of his own. He had always kept good contact and relations with his friends and relatives. When he knew of us, his mother's aunt's kids, he made contact with us and kept it well, even though not all of us have been keen on replying his emails. He even called us and had an hour long conversation with us, the people he han't met more than once. I used to find it out of place for him to continuously keep in touch with us. But after reading the messages he received from relatives and friends it seems like a normal 'Robin-thing' to keep in touch; and it started to seem like something extraordinary - something you wouldn't expect too many people to do.

Life is so fragile. You can't know when it will start to fall and eventually break. Even if it is falling and is stopped midway by a stingle thread it will fall eventually; you only get to know, not even for sure, that you have a little less time than most people around you.

The name will stay.

New toy...

I can't bear to not see this furball of happiness in 24 hours, how will I bear it for 1 whole month???

E-U shenanigans

- "eid mubarak emu darling. Come over to my house for dinner"
- "Eid mubarak "***" darling. When's dinner?"
- "Come over now"
- "Too late. Already had dinner."
- "Grr. I kill you *dramatic music*"
- "Aaargh! My tragic demise! *melodramatic music*"