This post was also written in Bangla.
Getting back to 8 years from the present. I passed class 2 with a satisfactory result. The next year I was supposed to get admitted into class 3. But my family had a decision. They wanted me to study in Madrasah. Before I was born, my mother prayed to Allah if he gives another son, she will admit her second son in Islamic education institute called Madrasah.
On 5th June 1992, I was born as the second son of my family. As she prayed to Allah, she admitted me into a Qoumi Madrasah when I was supposed to be in class 3. They wanted me to be a Maolana in future and to contribute for islam. That was the beginning of my life’s history.
I studied at that Madrasah for 5 years. I was supposed to continue my Madrasa education further but I never wanted to study there anymore. I always appealed to get me admitted into a school. My view was always different. I used to surf the internet and write blog when I was there. At that time, none of my classmates understood what do I do. I could never match myself with them. That’s why I was so lonely and depressed there.
After remorseful 5 years, I ran away from that Madrasah and at the midnight, highway police found me alone at the road and sent me home with their petrol. By then, my family understood that I’m very much serious and a bit dangerous. So finally my family took me home from that Madrasah which was just a little bit better than a prison cell.
Few days later, I was admitted into another Madrasah nearby home! My family thought I ran away from that Madrasah just because I had to live far from my home. But they were wrong. I actually wanted to get out of the “Madrasah network.” Just because Madrasah students are always under-estimated. I couldn’t forbear when people looked at me with an underestimating eye that I’m a “Madrasah Student.” Anyways, I studied into my new Madrasah for 1 hour! And then, I was missing! Everyone searched me almost everywhere in the city. But they found me nowhere. I stayed somewhere. A place where nobody could find me out.
At night, when I had no place to live, I returned to my home being helpless. At first they were very happy that I am back in home. But I knew it won’t last longer. And it didn’t. I had to forbear the torture and punishment for my fault. I was ready to forbear, yet I wanted to get out of Madrasah life.
Perhaps you don’t know that Qoumi Madrasah is different. Students who want to be Maolana or Hafiz study there. There is no class like general education. But I always wanted to study in general–as thousands of other children do.
After a few weeks, I was admitted into an Alia Madrasah! Alia Madrasah is slightly different. It is called the Madrasah Education Board. Very similar to General education. So I wasn’t that much happy because that was a Madrasah too. I got admitted myself into class 7.
When my final examination of class 8 was over, I decided that I will switch to a school. Because Secondary School Certificate (SSC) has greater value than Dakhil (same examination but this one is held under the Madrasah Board). I was desperate to switch but my family didn’t care it. When they took it seriously, then it was too late. I couldn’t get myself admitted into any school. So I had to stay there and continue my study in class 9. There is no way to switch in class 10 as the students get registered when they are in class nine. Last year, I got registered under the Madrasah Board.
Later in December, my family came to understand that I was always right. The trial for war criminals is supposed to be executed. And if it happens, the value of all Madrasah students will go down. Its obvious that all Madrasah students are not criminal, all Madrasah students are not involved in terrorism. Yet we are underestimated. In some renowned colleges, A notice is hung with the message “No admission form will be given to Madrasah Students.” So my mother changed her mind and started trying to get me admitted into a school.
For the first time ever, I bought an admission form from two schools around my home. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t be passed as the test was the next day I bought the form. The questions in the admission test for class 9 comes from the books of class 8. But last year I was in class 9. So I remember nothing of the mathematics, grammars and Science of class 8. Yet my mother inspired me to attend the test. If I fail, she’ll try in alternative way.
For the first time ever in my life, I attended two admission test. I got several hours to read the books of class 8. In another school’s test, I bought the form 4 days before.
Pretty amazingly, in both of those schools, I got the 1st place having the highest mark among all other students who attended the admission test. I was so happy that I can’t express it in words. My admission was almost done. But there was another problem. I had no Transfer Certificate which is must-be-submitted to get admitted into class 9 on a new school. The teachers of my Madrsah knew that if they don’t issue me a TC, I won’t be able to get admitted anywhere. That’s why they never gave me any TC although my parents asked them for a TC for several times.
Finally, I collected a TC from another school and got myself admitted in a dishonest way. One of the teachers of my new school knows about this and he is a senior teacher there. So I believe I won’t have to meet any problem created by the False TC. With this, I’m now a school student. It’s really funny that I always dreamed to be a school student! My dreams are always so simple. But impossible for them to come true. Like, I always dream if I had a computer at my home. I work for technology matters, own some websites and write on several websites and on a daily newspaper about technology, but I myself don’t own a PC. That’s funny! Really funny!
Some of my dreams are too little. But their way to coming true is so narrow that they cannot come. Some others are almost true, but due to my family, they are getting off. I will tell you later about this.