Star Diary

The Smart Businessman

On my way to work, I noticed a flower shop near the gate of the central prison of Feni. I found that quite strange as I could not understand why the shop was situated in such a seemingly isolated location. You couldn't imagine anyone buying flowers from that place. But I was proven wrong when after a few days, I noticed that people were swarming the flower shop, buying garlands and bouquets. I learnt that they were all members of a political party who were waiting in front of the prison to welcome their leader who was going to be released that day. Those who couldn't get garlands or bouquets bought roses so that they didn't have to feel left behind. Soon enough, the shop was sold out. I further came to know that the shop ran on a profit as the prison frequently help political prisoners, all of whom would be received with garlands of flowers upon their release. I was impressed by the shopkeeper's business acumen. He knew that he didn't need to be surrounded by other flower sellers to make a profit; all he needed to make his business a success was the appropriate place and the right customers.
Md Azam Khan
Uttara Bank Ltd
Feni

A Hopeful Father

The other day I was on my way home from work. It was quite dark and cold. Burying my hands in the pockets of my jacket, I started searching for a rickshaw. After a long time when I couldn't find a single rickshaw willing to take the ride, I decided to walk home. After a while luck favoured me as I saw a rickshaw resting at a corner. The rickshaw puller was a middle-aged man, possibly in his late 40s, wearing a tattered shirt without any warm clothing to protect him from the cold. However, I somehow managed to convince him to take me on as a passenger. As he pulled his rickshaw, the man was coughing heavily and his hands could barely grip the handle. His voice wavered in the wind as he asked me for the directions. I couldn't help but ask him about his family and about his life on the road. The man told me that he was the father of two school going children. His wife worked as a household help and they lived in a small house in a shanty. He wanted to educate his two daughters and was saving up for that purpose. As I listened to his story, I wondered whether his dreams could actually be realised. The dedication of this poor father, working hard in the shivering cold to earn a living, might or might not produce the result he expects but he is setting an example of hope for all those who blame fate for everything.
Naome Syed
Mohammadpur, Dhaka