“How many
mosquitoes will it take to completely fill our house?”
THWAPP!
My father’s strong
right hand collapsed with my left cheek, dimming the eight years old eyes that were glowing
in curiosity. I felt like I was hit by a thunder. The strong sound of the slap
travelled through my skull to my inner ear. My head swung to the right. The
left cheek was burning in pain, the eyes filled with drops of tears, my head
bowed down in the right in shame when my father spoke, “How many times do I
need to tell you to stop thinking these nonsenses?” How can I make my family
understand this ‘nonsenses’ are the biggest part of myself. The pleasure I get
in thinking something, and in sharing what I’ve thought. But I believed that if
I kept questioning, one day my family members would be tired of beating me and
accept me for being different.
I was born
in a rural uneducated family in Bangladesh. My father couldn’t make it to high
school and my mother could hardly write her name. Life for them was a battle
for survival. Curiosity? No place for that. Life is better as it is, no
questions asked, no harm done. In such a family I was born a child always
asking explanations, to know everything around me. Everything, seriously! From
tears while cutting onion through changing shape of moon to
‘why-the-jug-broke-while-thrown-full-of-water-but-didn’t-break-while-thrown-empty?’.
Honestly, the last one could only be explained by Newton’s second Law- and I
was 6 years old. (If Newton didn’t say that before me, this could’ve been called
Masum’s Second law today!) Soon my parents ran out of their religious
explanations, but I was still in the dawn of my questioning. Annoyed, they took
the hard way. Each of my questions was gifted with punishment. Slapped, canned,
beaten, I moved to my school teachers to add a new vocabulary to my curiosity
prize collection- ‘Ridiculed’. The teachers humiliated me in front of my class,
my friends started calling me names like ‘Frog-scientist’ (I was secretly proud
about it, because it had ‘Scientist’ in it).
So, by this
time you might be thinking what an annoying little boy I am. Don’t you want to
know why I questioned? From an early age I had somewhat a lower memory and a
diffused attention. No one diagnosed me ever, so I do not know what this
disease is called. But this two hand in hand, gave me the prize of becoming a
slow learner. Yes, you read it right. It will take me longer time to grasp
something than the average Joe. I had to think deeper to understand a simple
concept and analyze what others could do with intuition. And when I analyze,
the thing that I’m learning becomes more fun. Every learning becomes a small
piece of puzzle that gives me an extraordinary contentment after solving. And
this gave me a different way of thinking and exceptional creativity.
Hmm..
Curiosity, creativity, what’s next?
I was a
sailor who loves to sail, but doesn’t know where to go. It was no before my
ninth grade when I met an extraordinary Engineer named Mahatasin Azad who
changed my life completely by adding it to a goal. He told me that to be a
scientist I have to learn the existing theories first. He taught me how to make
the boring and dull study interesting. When I was frustrated, he told me about
great people who overcame obstacles and shaped the world. Silently, he gifted me
with another quality named- ‘Persistence’. I learnt from him how to work for
someone for getting nothing in return. I am still trying to pay him back by
teaching, inspiring curious rural students who fail to get their questions
answered. Teaching them to never stop questioning until the answer is found.
Anyway, can
you tell me how many mosquitoes… ?
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