01/03/2021

১৬ই ফাল্গুন ১৪২৭

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖑𝖞 𝕿𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎

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𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖑

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Today our head clerk asked me a question that made me startled. He asked where will we be in 5 years’ time. ‘We’ meaning people who interact here, BDC, blockchain…. This is not a futuristic question, rather a personal one. This is a question that we consider at the end of a final school year or a college year. We discuss among friends where will we be in another 4-5-10 years. Obviously, no one knows the future, and that fact makes everything so much interesting. We can look back however, and see what we have done in the past. It is in no way a guarantee, that the future will be like the past ‘simulations’ but it sort of gives you an idea. That is the least we can do as humans.

I started at this blockchain (it was Steem back then) around January of 2018, but I was snooping around the periphery in late 2017 as well. So, it has been about 3 years plus. I am still in touch with some of the early people I met here. So, another 3 years from now, that is highly likely that I will remain friends who I like to remain friends with.

Now, thinking about even longer term. My high school. I don’t think I am in touch with any of my high school friends at the present time. Of course, for me, that is a very long time 1990-92. If I first-forward to college, I do have a couple of individuals I am still in touch with, but the number is perhaps under five. First forward to my early post-graduate study, yeah there are several I am still in touch with say between 10-20. Mind you, this is across continents, and many socio-economic barriers. Therefore, the idea from this is the fact that maybe there is a time and space limit on how long we can keep in touch with each other. It is highly variable from person to person. However, if you want to keep in touch you typically can these days, even if you are physically distant.

Lot of us are physically distant here at the blockchain social-network, and we only communicate via mostly text, either as a chat, or as posts and comments. In rare occasions on voice, but we still feel like we know each other closely. I personally have happy memories from this blockchains, also have a few sad memories:

“Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.”…
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

I have the ability to contain myself with both, as I can’t really choose one over the other. There are certain chats, certain voice meeting, certain humans I met here, I will remember as long as I have a conscious mind. There are other interactions that I like to forget, but I won’t be able to. I have read a lot of Murakami from the start of the pandemic (I never read him before, a blessing wouldn’t you say?), and he says:

“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”

I will take his word for it!

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This Weeks Featured-বাল্যকাল (𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖉)

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জীবনটা তিন কোনা কোন আইসক্রিমের মতো। কোনের ভিতর চকলেট, উপরে আইসক্রিম, আর আইসক্রিমের উপর বাদামের প্রলেপ।

Maybe you will agree with this, life is like an ice cream cone. How we see and perceive ice cream reflects on how we have utilized it; in this case, eat it. When you eat too slowly, most of the ice cream melts down and dripps from your hand; then you rub it in your clothes or whatever you find nearby and that gets sticky too; a sticky, sticky world. If you eat it too fast, you get a brain freeze, your mouth chills, your teeth shiver in the cold. Enjoying life, are we?

Life gets tough when we try to deal with everything, subsequently melts and drips and we're in the stickler. It's hard to keep up with everything that goes around, but if we're moving too fast, we will miss relishing the time that is gone. Perception, each to its own, someone sees the glass half full, and some see the glass half empty; and while some will drink the water and make the glass full empty.

Once a friend had asked me what color my soul is, I said black. It's dark, horrifying, and mysterious, and no light in any corner; it's a false statement. To me, black is the most colorful of all colors. I distinctively remember telling my friend that if we pour every color and mix them together, it turns black then how can black be any other than soulful; maybe too soulful that naked eyes can't see. You like black because the darkness resembles your soul, I don't know why you choose to see it that way. You reflect everything bad and horrible to black. You mourn wearing black attire. Now if I tell you that you have the most colorful soul of all, how will you take it? are you going to be frightened? Does the thought that you're not what you think you are, shakes you to your core? It wasn't a compliment; it was a fact. We enjoy the chocolaty part of the ice cream more than the ice cream.

The nutty bits on top of that ice cream are an added bonus. You know how bonuses are; sometimes you're happy you got it, sometimes you take it for granted; sometimes they're another means of annoyance because they irk you. I see nutty bits as the little moments of life that we spend with our loved ones, forget them, only to reminisce them years later when the grand life doesn't, please us anymore. Sitting on the lawn chair with a cup of tea, eyes roaming around the front yard and the gaze goes further and further; you’re no longer enjoying the view. A flash, you’re back in your past; the forgotten bits. You’re replaying those old memories from the back of your head. There’s a faint smile on your face, you never assumed that moment could mean so much to you after all these years.

Life is an ice cream cone with chocolate inside and nuts on top of the ice cream.

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মামারা

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একদা এক ব্রাহ্মণ ভলতেয়ারের নিকট আপনার দুঃখ প্রকাশ করিলেন,

"ভেবেছি না জন্মালেই ভালো হতো বৈকি!"

ভলতেয়ার শুধোলেন, "ক্যা? কী সমস্যা?"

ব্রাহ্মণ কাতর কণ্ঠে বলিলেন , "এই চল্লিশ বৎসর যাবত জ্ঞান সাধনা করিলাম। পিছে ফিরিয়া তাকাইয়া দেখি কেবলই সময় নষ্ট করিয়াছি মামা। উপলব্ধি করিয়াছি বটে আমি পদার্থ হতে গঠিত, কিন্তু কচু কিছুতেই ভাবিয়া কুল কিনারা করিতে পারিলাম না ভাবনাচিন্তার উদ্ভব হয় কোথা। জানিনা নিজ ভাবনারাজি ভক্ষণ বা হন্টনের মত সাধারণ কম্য কিনা। বকবক করিতে পছন্দ করি বৈকি, এরপর মাথামুণ্ডু কী বলিলাম ভাবিয়া লজ্জায় কুণ্ঠিত হইয়া যাই।"

একই দিবসে ভলতেয়ার এলাকা চক্করের মধ্যিখানে ব্রাহ্মণের প্রতিবেশী এক খাটিয়া খাওয়া মানুষের সাথে আলাপ জুড়িলেন। আত্মা কী দিয়ে তৈরি (ভলতেয়ার এখানে আত্মা বলতে কনশাসনেস বোঝাচ্ছেন) এই প্রশ্নের কোনরূপ সদুত্তর দিতে না পারিয়া জীবনে সে কখনও দুঃখে পতিত হইয়া হাহাকার করিয়াছে কিনা। চান্দু ভলতেয়ারের প্রশ্ন বুঝিলোই না। সে জানাইল, ভগবান বিষ্ণুর চরিতে বিশ্বাসের আলাপ আর গঙ্গার ময়লা পানিতে পাপ-শাপ মুক্তির কথা। জানাইল তার সন্তুষ্টি আর জম্পেশ সুখী জীবনের কথা। অজ্ঞ গরীব মানুষটির এই সুখ দেখিয়া ভলতেয়ার ব্রাহ্মণ পানে ছুটিলেন।

ব্রাহ্মণকে বলিলেন, "মামা, লজ্জ্বা করেনা আপনার বাড়ির পাশে যে এক মূর্খ, চিন্তাহীন লোক সুখে আরামে পেট বাজাইতেছে, আর আপনি পণ্ডিত হইয়া মনোবেদনায় কোকাইতেছেন?"

ব্রাহ্মণ বলিল, "ভেরি ট্রু। বহুবার নিজেরে বলিয়াছি ওই চান্দুর মত মূর্খ হইলে শান্তিতে থাকিতে পারিতাম। কিন্তু মামা, অমন সুখ আমি চাইনা।

শুনিয়া ভলতেয়ার যারপরনাই অভিভূত হইলেন।"_ Voltaire, Romances, 450

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𝕰𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖆

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Source

There is a shady environment inside the room. If someone suddenly enters, it will look as if one has reached an ancient cave. Mr. Subhan is reclining in an easy chair with his safety goggles on his forehead. It seems like he is sleeping. In fact he is recharging himself for 15 minutes. If he does not do this every two hours, his inner system starts malfunctioning. Mr. Subhan is 193 years old. Modern medical science has been able to determine the age of human lifespan. A person can live a maximum of 200 years in which no one will depart if he does not want to die willingly.

Mr. Subhan is relaxing and thinking that their lives have become like a cartoon from a TV serial of 200 years ago where there is nothing called cessation. The cell of every human body has been archived today in a specific place from which anyone can be reborn. Subhan's current assignment is to immortalize 200 years of human life and he has come a long way in that experiment.

The number of people in today’s world is fixed, the birth of a new baby is very limited. The lucky couple who will be able to have a new baby is determined by lottery in substitute of those who want to take euthanasia. The lottery is held in front of the town hall on the first Sunday of every three months and the names of the lucky couples are announced. Today is the first Saturday of the third month, tomorrow is that long waited day. Tonight there is a festive atmosphere all over the city. Everyone is awake all night with a kind of joy, no one sleeps.

On a sunny Sunday morning, Shila and Apurba are getting ready to head to the town hall. Like many others, they are a couple who have applied to become parents. When they reached the town hall, it was almost crowded. This time two people have applied to take euthanasia and in ten minutes the announcement will come who will be the two lucky duos. Two names were announced in a row. From the two ends of the ground, four people screamed with joy. There was no name of Apurba couple among them.
Apurba and Shila are walking along the sidewalk of the road. The road is less crowded, occasionally few robot driven cars are passing by them. The two of them are walking silently without talking to anyone, both of them are speechless. Coincidentally, they both said the following sentence at the same time -

Let's accept euthanasia

Both of them are now 59 years and 7 months old. According to the government's rules, no one can have a child after the age of 60. So this was their last chance. Life has become monotonous, it seems pointless to them to be alive now. Their only goal forthwith is to make two other couples happy with kids in exchange of their two lives. So euthanasia is now the only way to help others.

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𝕹𝖔 𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖓 = 𝕹𝖔 𝕱𝖚𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊

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I entered the mosque before the Maghrib call that day. Though I do not pray regularly, Maghrib prayer is not get omitted. The muezzin calling for prayers, in meantime a small boy came to the mosque. My guess he will be 4 years old. Wearing a t-shirt and three-quarter pants. No hat on head. He smiled as soon as I looked at him. After the call to prayer, the prayers will begin. I noticed that the boy did not come to the mosque alone, but with his father. As the prayers begin, his father tries to make him stand in the back row but he will not stand back. Will stand in the front row with Dad. Dad took his son beside him and started praying. I stood right next to the boy. The prayers have started, the boy is mischievous, moving away from the line and walking in front of everyone. Since I am standing on his left side, he is coming in front of my eyes even though I don’t want to notice. While prostrating, he lying down right in front of me, looking at me and smiling. He does these things during the whole prayer. After the prayers, I smiled at him. His dad is trying to convince him, that we have to quiet during prayers.

By then I noticed that there was no reaction from the other worshipers. But a few days back, the mosque authorities forbade the children to come to the mosque for their mischief. I know it sounds lame, But that is the truth. A few weeks ago, children used to come to the mosque to pray. The back row was filled with children, some wearing Punjabi, some wearing T-shirts, some without hats. As soon as the prayers started, they used to laugh and talk. That’s why some elderly people get annoyed and Children are forbidden to come to the mosque. Some people protested against this lame decision but it did not work. The children stopped coming to the mosque the next day. The mosque became silent.

One of the protesters today brings his son to perform the prayers. I was very happy to see it. As soon as I left the mosque, the muezzin called the children to come to the mosque.

The scene of children praying in the mosque is amazing. But in almost all the mosques in our society, children are the victims of embarrassment. I know it sounds strange. When the prayers start, we force the children to go back. Doing so harms children, we forget that.

নামাজ পড়ার সময় যদি পেছনের সারি থেকে বাচ্চাদের হাসির আওয়াজ না আসে, তাহলে পরবর্তী প্রজন্মের ব্যাপারে ভয় করুন।

When Masjids do not welcome children, children will find other places to go.

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𝕰𝖓𝖉 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘

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Instructions to Get Featured

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_{This here is our piece de resistance. To promote engagement and a little self-branding, we have come up with an initiative that we simply called Featured. And we are very excited about this portion of the magazine.}

_{Every week, one talented author will have the opportunity to contribute a piece for the magazine while showcasing one of their best posts. The willing writers will have a chance to add a few words about any topic they choose and be a 25% beneficiary of the magazine.}

How to Get Featured

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_{The first step is, you have to decide whether you want to get featured or not. Once you've made up your mind, you have to apply by submitting one of your articles from last week. We have a wiggle room for quality content if they are older than seven days. Choose the piece you deem to be your best work for the week, as this will play a significant role in you getting featured or not.}

Application Window

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_{There will be a two-day period to submit your application. It must be submitted by dropping a link to your post in the #Featured-Magazine channel on the BDCommunity Discord Server. One author will be chosen randomly from all the submissions. The featured author for the week will be announced during the weekly voice meeting. They will then have two days for writing a piece and submit it.}

_{The author who gets featured in the weekly magazine will be set as a 25% beneficiary, meaning 25% of the magazine's liquid payout will go to the featured author.}

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