The feeling of suffering of individuals who work hard: Purity of Life.


Md. Shabbir Hasan

Life is extremely interesting. How many joys and sorrows, laughter and tears, the past of not being found within the memory page of life diary. There’s beautiful or ugly, rough reality. Success, failure. Thousands of experiences — good, bad; some are insensitive. Mixed experience. On the one hand, there's an excellent opportunity to mingle with the needy people of Bhukhananga and day laborers, on the opposite hand, there's an excellent opportunity to mingle with the highly qualified or wealthy people of the society. I remember the day laborers who worked hard to assist in times of danger. I also remember the people of Mooseball while studying at the university. People that exerting salute you, salute! Within the pursuit of life and livelihood, what's the daily work that's broken bones and diligence! What percentage - or can we realize it? Does one know the sensation of suffering of individuals who work hard? There’s pain is hard work, but there's joy within the harvest of diligence.

Today, I understand a touch bit about the hardships of the daily work of individuals who exerting. He spends most of his career in chemistry laboratories because he has learned to read some hard chemistry. There’s diligence, there's fun. There’s interest in chemistry, and it's a matter of earning. The sweet days of student life are long gone. They’re within the memory page of life diary. At this point in his career, after retiring from paperwork, he has been working hard in his garden for a few times. The work of gardening is fully swung, in new ventures. Own work. Making kitchen garden beds, clearing weeds hidden within the soil, then filling that soil with new soil. And planting seeds and trees. Many work. Of these pains within the ankles, elbows, knees, waist, and neck. The body's nut-bolts seem to possess all come loose. What a tough work!

If you're employed hard or what. Corona's days are quite chaotic within the current weather enigma. In Canada in April this year, the weather appeared to be recuperating. So I cleaned the grass within the garden and sprinkled vegetable seeds thereon. The seeds of these seeds have died within the enigma of the weather. They might not match themselves by penetrating the soil. Thanks to the exceptional cold, the garden couldn't be planted in May this year. I assumed I might stand back from corona by reducing getting to the market with vegetables within the garden. Totally failed.

The garden work didn't hand over. Everything started anew in June. In new ventures. The bed frame was made by buying wood, thorns, and metal sheets for attachment from the Market Home Depot, which is provided with all the tools needed to create a house and garden. Hammers, screwdrivers, and shovels, essential for household chores, were within the house. These are very useful. In order that they are bought at different times of the year.

Some of the old soil was faraway from the garden bed frame. The roots of weeds and sesame seeds hidden within the ground were cleared by digging many holes. Hard soil, and hard work! Pain within the palms of the hands, elbows, neck, and waist. The skin, which had turned a touch pale from the cold within the cold country, was now burned by the sun's ultraviolet rays in June. I came that green-black color of my childhood. I'm that black boy again, burnt within the summer sun in exile. Tons of sweat is dripping from the body, the pain within the head also increased thanks to not quench the thirst for water in time. I remember that song within the midst of hardship, ‘In that wind of your hand fan ... life comes together ....’ I reminisce at work, the sweet smile of my wife and therefore the strength within the water given to me.


There is a reason for gardening. My wife is extremely keen on vegetables rather than fish and meat. I heard beautiful girls are stupid. He sure made it very easy-going. But hardworking and quiet. And a Masters in Chemical Engineering. Albeit Eva is that the Home Minister of her circle of relatives, her decision is final. I even have no choice but to garden.

A week before the kitchen garden beds were made, soil mixed with triple mix and dung was ordered at the garden center. One truckload of soil, an order of about 300. I got it just in time. At the top of the office, a day within the evening bucket means they're spread on the garden bed and therefore the work of filling the soil is completed in a few weeks. Very diligence. Abdominal fat appeared to have dropped quite a bit. I started cultivating several vegetables, these are red spinach, spinach, squash, gourd, pumpkin, tomato, zucchini, bean, Barbati, chili, eggplant. Trying, let's examine what happens. It’s going to not cost much, but it's a hobby.

I am working within the garden, I'm very happy to understand that now. If my mother was alive, of course, she would say, my black little ass in food, I do not need such a lot of work. There’s no comparison between mothers and mothers. As a toddler, I won’t stand back from these activities. If there are two older brothers, the younger ones don't need to work. I'm lucky

Then the eighties. I remember those childhood days all right. I'm a boy of green complexion. The effect of ultraviolet rays on the skin within the hot sun burned the skin and made it appear as if many Africans. Rabiul Bhai and Zaman Bhai, who is very handsome in bright white color just like the English, are their playmates. The body is thick. The design may be a little chubby. Bare body, bare feet. He won’t wear shorts. Dust all day, and rolling within the mud. And play.

There were no toys bought within the game. Toy made. Swords and carts made from bamboo and conch, watches and spectacles made from palm leaves, play balls made from rice straw tied with jute fibers. Wars were fought thereupon sword. Again, my sword was wont to stop the fight of the English-looking big brothers when something went wrong. This sword was kept within the special care of my mother for several years. When lost within the womb of your time.


Memory not lost. I do know tons about the key behind the creation of green during a charred area of Rajshahi. I spent my childhood there. The legacy of the green mango orchard pictured above is me, and therefore the siblings. The creator of the many such green revolutions in silence may be a very hard-working man. This vast revolution within the chars of the eighties happened with their school-age children by digging the soil, removing the barren soil, learning the silty good soil from other places, carrying it on their heads, and putting it within the land, planting trees one by one. My father may be a mentor with a life-long, shrewd and sharp intellect. Angry people, there's no protection from drinking lime khasalei. If he didn't have the best in class, he wanted to run Ranna (it is employed to smooth furniture) on this school-age storyteller of that day. Although not a minister, he's now referred to as a minister in his area. He got the title due to the respect and love of the people.

The fun of joy can't be felt without suffering in life. Sadness, suffering, pain, failure, humiliation without these, happiness, and honor can't be enjoyed. Even as there's darkness, so there's light. As soon because the difficult dark time is over, the golden sun of the happy morning rises. Salute to all or any the day laborers. God bless you.

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