They buried my heart on 14th September 2001, a day I will never forget. The funeral was more painful than the others. This personal tragedy fell into my lap the same week the terrorists destroyed the lives of many innocents on the American soil. I was a struggling writer, waiting for my first break and my forte was to be published. I made my determination firm, but I was never inspired enough to write great stories.
I wanted to pursue Literature, learn Shakespeare but as an Asian child, I forgot that it’s our parents who put a seal to our fate. My father, who’s an Army Major General who took me to Art Academy showed me the lifestyle of their students, “hippie costumes in skeleton closet, with no hope or whatsoever”. It was not because of my academic result that I wanted to pursue Literature. I always thought people should make their hobbies their profession. Quotes and wisdom words can be understood by a father, not a Major General who stood firm. Despite countless hopeless arguments, I was sent to Oxford University for engineering. I used to sleep under a billion stars and thought if my mother was alive today, perhaps my life would have a different track and usually ended up in tears.
Oxford University was as said by George Santayana, “Oxford, The paradise of dead philosophies.” From childhood, I wanted to be a writer but never got the courage to show him my writings. It never mattered that even I win hundreds of awards in writings, but a single win in physical exercise made him the happiest father and myself an unhappy child. Being alone child had disadvantages, no one to share tears and laughter with and the friends seems to be dead in the night and reappear from the grave in the brightest of the days. Oxford itself holds the inspiring literature, but my writing ability didn’t flourish. It wouldn’t even, how a student manages to get above 93 per cent and write. I really wished I could make a clone of myself and make my copy study engineering. The “0s” and “1s” seemed absurd.
It wasn’t until I met a very special person, perhaps the only person after my mother who understood me, did I realize the dream took a little more than wanting it to happen. Her encouragement and foresight, she instilled a passion within me to attain my goal.
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Bangladesh • 27 years old