Sometimes you lose your voice. And I lost mine about a month ago.

When I was a child in Bangladesh, 2 days before it saw peace, I cowered with my family on a rooftop in Dhaka. It was the middle of the night and there were men with guns in our house. In the darkened house below us, my father stood on top of the landing holding what little money we had with us. Al Badr were downstairs. They never came upstairs. Instead they beat my cousin who had answered the door. Then they left – too afraid to climb the darkened stairs.

That day I almost lost my father. We were saved only by the cowardice of those who had come for him. Last winter I went to New Jersey to hear from those who had their fathers taken away that night.

When I was just a few years older, in independent Bangladesh, I saw a man in a bazaar lying on the ground. He was in pain. He had some sort of tubes coming out of his abdomen, and he was just lying there screaming in pain. No one helped him. Curious onlookers gawked and then moved on. I moved on.

One day as we were driving from the city to visit our village we came across a traffic jam. Apparently a truck had broken down and a line of cars had formed behind it. While we were waiting a short stubby man came out of the car in front of ours. He had the air of someone important. He approached the broken down truck, opened the door, and pulled the driver out. He then took off his shoe and started hitting the driver with it. The truck driver, a much bigger man, never once struck back.

This is the world we live in. And that day when I saw the truck driver being struck the child that I was vowed to change that world.

Sometimes I forget that I made that vow. Life can do that to you.


A little over a week ago I was blessed to finally meet my blogging friend Ingrid, her wonderful husband James, and their two lovely children. Ingrid and I have been communicating since I first started blogging. She is one of the original members of Bloggers Against Torture. It was a joy to finally meet over that coffee we have been planning for about two years.

It made me want to start writing again.


Today I heard from a friend in distress. The video above is for my friend. Don’t despair. Life is about possibilities. And I’ll walk that mile with you.

In the meantime, I have some writing to do. I hope you will keep reading.

– Mash

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8 Responses to Possibilities

  1. jasper says:


  2. Robster says:

    I’m glad you’re back. I was worried I’d have to do another Photoshop with your avatar on the back of a milk carton. 🙂

  3. Robin Khundkar says:

    So glad you are back! We need you!

  4. Mash says:

    Robin bhai, the vacation was way too long 🙂 Glad to be back.

    Robbie, your blog changed again (I like what you’ve done with the place)! I need to update my blogroll. I need to put a GPS on your blog so I can find it if I am gone for a while 🙂

  5. Ingrid says:

    Mash, I can’t wait to read what’s been on your mind… and of course, some of the things we’ve talked about. James was very impressed and has asked if you had written something already but naturally, you’ve got a few things on your plate.

    Boy, and on a more serious note, whenever I read snippets of your past experiences, I think boy..there’s a whole lot more where that came from..perhaps you could write about that sometime? I know/understand that it might be a tough sell book-wise and probably emotionally draining..however, the sum of all those events and memorable imprints have made you the sensitive and down to earth and very astute writer..ok..the screen writer in me sees a story..anyhow..I hope that your friend has received your message of encouragement..when one needs it, who better to dispense of it then a good friend??
    take care Mash, I hope our robster gets to meet you too.. and yes, we need to tag the guy ’cause he’s here he’s there, where the heck is he?? lol



  6. Robster says:


    I changed the address because I’m also an aspiring writer. It may or may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but no worries. It’s fiction, right?

  7. Cujo359 says:

    Glad to see you’re back, Mash. I know that sometimes the muse, or whatever it is, deserts you. Some days I wonder why I bother. Then I see or hear something that reminds me.

  8. Mash says:

    Robbie, you’ve got a customer in me for your first novel.

    Cujo, good to hear from you. Its taking a while longer than I thought to get back into the swing of things. But it will happen 🙂

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