It was my first class and I was a bit nervous.
I had been teaching for many years since before I joined IIUC but entering a class full of grown up students who were not very much younger than me was somehow a little intimidating not to think of teaching them English Literature at Honours level. I began by introducing myself and asked for brief introductions from the twelve students to give myself some time to familiarize. They were all good students with good academic background and I was delighted to have them in the first batch of the Department of English Language and Literature, IIUC.
One of the students however caught my eye for her exceptional name. She was called Barhana. ‘What does is mean?’ I asked her. ‘I don’t know’, she replied frankly, ‘it’s just something my father fancied’.
In a few days every teacher was discussing her for her exceptional interest in literature, her depth of understanding, her brilliance and her gusto. I was happy to go to class everyday because I knew she would be there to ask intelligent questions and stimulate me to my best performance. So, when she brought her notebook to me to check her question answers I was only too glad to oblige till I accidentally found something disturbing one day.
I called her to my room the next day and made her sit and explain the suicide note I found in her notebook when it fell from my table and the page dropped out. She explained truthfully that she loved someone but he was not interested due to a previous loss in his life. ‘No one is worth your life’, I said to her, ‘life is too precious to throw away for one disappointment. You are a brilliant girl endowed with so many talents and qualities and you have a bright future ahead of you. Leave these thoughts and concentrate on your studies and ask Allah to do what is best for you when the right time arrives’. She saw the point and agreed to give up such thoughts.
In spite of her worries she came first in the midterm exam and I was delighted to see that she had kept her word.
A few months later, I met her at the gate of the main campus of IIUC. I was really surprised when she introduced me to a gentleman who she said was her husband. She had been married a month by then, to the man she had thought of dying for, with the blessings of her family. By the end of the semester she was happy and doing ever better in her studies.
So, I was really surprised when she suddenly stopped attending the classes at the beginning of the next semester. Salma Madam informed me that she had some problems with some classmates but she had counseled her to ignore these and continue her studies. I asked her classmates if anyone knew where she was or why she was not coming to class, with no result. No one else in the Department had any information either. But she did not come even after two weeks.
Finally, I could not stand it anymore. I went to the place where her husband worked and searched him out. He told me that she was a little sick but she was going to be well soon, it was nothing to worry about. At this time I went to a clinic to visit a student of Presidency International School whose family had been in a serious accident and fortunately all had survived in spite of serious injuries. When I was coming out I was surprised to meet her husband outside the clinic. He admitted, reluctantly, that Barhana was admitted there since fifteen days, she was shortly to be released and he had come to pick her up. Immediately I went to her room. She was sitting up on the edge of her hospital bed and her mother was sitting on a chair in front of her. She tried to straighten when she saw me but I could see that she was too weak and told her to relax. Together between them Barhana and her mother explained to me that she had been diagnosed with a rare blood disorder for which there was no cure as only about two hundred patients had been found worldwide. She was being released for the time being as she was feeling a little better but she was still very weak and might have to be readmitted if the symptoms became severe again.
I bade farewell bravely encouraging her to attend classes when she felt better but inside my heart I had a sinking feeling in the face of so much suffering in one so young. Usually I like to be in control of things because I do not like the feeling of helplessness that overcomes one when they know there is nothing they can do. But this moment reminded me that there is very little that we actually can do in the face of Allah’s wishes but pray.
She fought bravely and even came to university a few times on and off till we did not see her on campus anymore. She was admitted to Chittagong Medical College. I went to visit her whenever I could after university. She looked worse every time. In the beginning she would try to sit up when she saw me or occasionally Salma Apa would accompany me, later on she gave up trying even to turn around. I spoke to her mother who looked more and more anxious but there seemed to be no hope of recovery. Later on I dreaded these visits simply because I could not see such pain anymore.
I had not been able to visit her for a few days when one morning, Eftekhar Sir came to inform me that her condition had worsened the previous day and she was taken to Dhaka for treatment where she succumbed to death at night. Certainly we have come from Allah and to Him is our return.
People think, as teachers, we teach our students. What they do not know, however, is we learn a lot from our students, sometimes more than we teach. Barhana was near to my heart and even now she is never far from my mind. She taught me that life is indeed precious as it is a temporary gift and all our talent, capacity and strength is a currency for investment during our life on earth to earn the profit that will determine our fate in the Herafter. We may live to be old or die in the full bloom of youth like Barhana. But what ultimately matters is what we have done with the time we had in hand.
Isaac Dinesen wrote in Out of Africa, ‘the world is round so we cannot see too far down the road’. So, there is not much sense in planning too far ahead. Making the best of the present moment is best, for this moment is the foundation of the future – on this earth and the next.
I had been teaching for many years since before I joined IIUC but entering a class full of grown up students who were not very much younger than me was somehow a little intimidating not to think of teaching them English Literature at Honours level. I began by introducing myself and asked for brief introductions from the twelve students to give myself some time to familiarize. They were all good students with good academic background and I was delighted to have them in the first batch of the Department of English Language and Literature, IIUC.
One of the students however caught my eye for her exceptional name. She was called Barhana. ‘What does is mean?’ I asked her. ‘I don’t know’, she replied frankly, ‘it’s just something my father fancied’.
In a few days every teacher was discussing her for her exceptional interest in literature, her depth of understanding, her brilliance and her gusto. I was happy to go to class everyday because I knew she would be there to ask intelligent questions and stimulate me to my best performance. So, when she brought her notebook to me to check her question answers I was only too glad to oblige till I accidentally found something disturbing one day.
I called her to my room the next day and made her sit and explain the suicide note I found in her notebook when it fell from my table and the page dropped out. She explained truthfully that she loved someone but he was not interested due to a previous loss in his life. ‘No one is worth your life’, I said to her, ‘life is too precious to throw away for one disappointment. You are a brilliant girl endowed with so many talents and qualities and you have a bright future ahead of you. Leave these thoughts and concentrate on your studies and ask Allah to do what is best for you when the right time arrives’. She saw the point and agreed to give up such thoughts.
In spite of her worries she came first in the midterm exam and I was delighted to see that she had kept her word.
A few months later, I met her at the gate of the main campus of IIUC. I was really surprised when she introduced me to a gentleman who she said was her husband. She had been married a month by then, to the man she had thought of dying for, with the blessings of her family. By the end of the semester she was happy and doing ever better in her studies.
So, I was really surprised when she suddenly stopped attending the classes at the beginning of the next semester. Salma Madam informed me that she had some problems with some classmates but she had counseled her to ignore these and continue her studies. I asked her classmates if anyone knew where she was or why she was not coming to class, with no result. No one else in the Department had any information either. But she did not come even after two weeks.
Finally, I could not stand it anymore. I went to the place where her husband worked and searched him out. He told me that she was a little sick but she was going to be well soon, it was nothing to worry about. At this time I went to a clinic to visit a student of Presidency International School whose family had been in a serious accident and fortunately all had survived in spite of serious injuries. When I was coming out I was surprised to meet her husband outside the clinic. He admitted, reluctantly, that Barhana was admitted there since fifteen days, she was shortly to be released and he had come to pick her up. Immediately I went to her room. She was sitting up on the edge of her hospital bed and her mother was sitting on a chair in front of her. She tried to straighten when she saw me but I could see that she was too weak and told her to relax. Together between them Barhana and her mother explained to me that she had been diagnosed with a rare blood disorder for which there was no cure as only about two hundred patients had been found worldwide. She was being released for the time being as she was feeling a little better but she was still very weak and might have to be readmitted if the symptoms became severe again.
I bade farewell bravely encouraging her to attend classes when she felt better but inside my heart I had a sinking feeling in the face of so much suffering in one so young. Usually I like to be in control of things because I do not like the feeling of helplessness that overcomes one when they know there is nothing they can do. But this moment reminded me that there is very little that we actually can do in the face of Allah’s wishes but pray.
She fought bravely and even came to university a few times on and off till we did not see her on campus anymore. She was admitted to Chittagong Medical College. I went to visit her whenever I could after university. She looked worse every time. In the beginning she would try to sit up when she saw me or occasionally Salma Apa would accompany me, later on she gave up trying even to turn around. I spoke to her mother who looked more and more anxious but there seemed to be no hope of recovery. Later on I dreaded these visits simply because I could not see such pain anymore.
I had not been able to visit her for a few days when one morning, Eftekhar Sir came to inform me that her condition had worsened the previous day and she was taken to Dhaka for treatment where she succumbed to death at night. Certainly we have come from Allah and to Him is our return.
People think, as teachers, we teach our students. What they do not know, however, is we learn a lot from our students, sometimes more than we teach. Barhana was near to my heart and even now she is never far from my mind. She taught me that life is indeed precious as it is a temporary gift and all our talent, capacity and strength is a currency for investment during our life on earth to earn the profit that will determine our fate in the Herafter. We may live to be old or die in the full bloom of youth like Barhana. But what ultimately matters is what we have done with the time we had in hand.
Isaac Dinesen wrote in Out of Africa, ‘the world is round so we cannot see too far down the road’. So, there is not much sense in planning too far ahead. Making the best of the present moment is best, for this moment is the foundation of the future – on this earth and the next.
