It is not easy ti be optimistic everyday. It is not easy to enjoy the excitement everyday.
Life is exiciting, as much as it can get. And it’s getting better and better. Each time i look back and the look forward at the road, i find amazing difference, difference that define who i am. What i want to be. Or atleast pretend to be.
I love what i have become, i do. But i miss who i was, i miss being in Bangladesh. I miss watching the street children, talking with them, playing. I am one of them, will always be.
And i feel scared and furious of people, who are living there, who are exploiting in the name of poverty. In the name of youth mobilization.
A common question i get, why you dont try to do those things. Why you are out in a foreign country, why and why.
I am afraid. Afraid of my family, the religion my parents gave me, which i hardly follow. I am afraid of the treatment i would get from my fellow countrymen. Yet, i feel close to those kids. I miss them. I miss being in Bangladesh.
I have a better life if anybody compares. But i dont wake up every morning to find my mom calling me to have breakfast, i dont go out take a busride to old town, i dont go to university area to roam around, and find juno foods to satisfy y taste buds.
I wish i could express my thoughts more organized way like the way i talk. I wish.