Real Education

Hello friends

Good morning..how are you?

I am writing a new story..

Name is:

********* Real Education *********

Will you do a tuition?

: Where?

: Sholashahar.

: Male or female?

: Student. In eighth grade.

: I will not teach students.

: Son of a great police officer. Father DIG. Will pay good salary. Have a good breakfast. Hey, it's lucky to be such a big police sweeper. Recommendations can also become jobs. Will be IGP after two days.

Tuition is not just money, something bigger than money. This is a great strategy for BCS preparation, there is money. I agreed to Rajiv's proposal.

Rajiv said: The salary is eight hundred rupees per month.

At that time eight hundred was a large sum of money. I didn't understand why Rajiv was giving me such an attractive salary tuition. There are some problems!

: Why aren't you doing it?

: I don't have time.

Mr. DIG's son's name is Omar. Fair, but not pale but quite enchanting. Huge house, expensive flower tub on the veranda. Prosperity is all around. Rajiv introduced me and left.

Omar saluted and said: Sir, the cat should be killed on the first night. Not me, my DIG's father, right?

: OK. But where is the cat?

: Yes sir, yes. Lots of big cats.

: Why should I kill a cat?

: Shall I say something?

: Say.

: It is better to say before. If you keep it, my profit will also benefit you. Otherwise it is a loss for both of them. I don't want to hurt you.

: Tell me what.

Omar said: I have to pay forty percent of your salary. Your salary is eight hundred rupees. Forty percent is three hundred and twenty rupees. But you have to give me three hundred rupees, twenty rupees is your tip. What did you say, sir?

At first the head became relaxed. I wanted to turn around and give a slap. I stopped with my hand forward. Make me normal in a moment. Then I caressed my neck and said: Why take less, father?

: So.

: No, I will pay the full three hundred and twenty rupees.

: Then you have to pay, sir. I do not keep the rent below one hundred rupees.

: So be it.

My mind became restless in the hope of a strange experience. The tuition will be interesting, let's see how far Omar can go. A few days before the end of the month, I handed Omar three hundred and twenty rupees in an envelope.

Omar is happy to get the money on time.

He smiled and said: Sir, you are a very good man.

I said: You are learning from me and I am learning from you. Each other's salaries should be paid on time. Then the dignity of labor gets a chance to smile at the beginning of the month.

Omar said: Thank you sir. If all people were like you!

Four months later, Mr. DIG came to the reading room. I have never seen him so far, he looks very serious, respect comes when you see him. In his glasses, the price was shining like a police uniform, more on his watch. He picked up a notebook of Omar and looked at it and said: Master, I have increased your salary by four hundred rupees.

: Why sir?

We are policemen. I know how to appreciate virtue. So far no teacher has stayed with my son for more than two months. Everyone has scolded, beaten and insulted my son. The boy only praised you. Or you teach much better.

He handed me a pen and a diary and said: These are your gifts.

: Thank you sir.

The pen was probably Parker. Back then, there were no mobiles, at that time Parker was as attractive to us as a smart phone.

Omar said to leave Mr. DIG: Sir.

Do you want to share pen and diary?

Omar laughed and said: No sir. I have no interest in objects. All objects are available if money.

: But?

: I owe four hundred and eighty rupees now. I will not take eighty rupees, I will take one hundred rupees. That means five hundred rupees.

: All right. If it's not too much, I don't mind paying more. You are my teacher, how can I gain knowledge if I can't give you more than twenty rupees?

Omar's smile widened. Even though he took commission, his studies are going very well. He also spent months. In the meantime, my salary has increased by another two hundred rupees. Omar is not having trouble paying now. I learned for the first time in my life - the greatness of giving and taking. Omar is a living smart phone.

It was raining outside that day. Omar seems more anxious than ever.

I said: What happened?

: Sir, I have a job to do.

: What work?

: You have to write a letter.

: I write the letter.

: Not a school letter.

: Which letter?

: To give to my girlfriend, sorry sir girlfriend.

: What to write?

: You will write as you like. I love him. If you don't see him, how your chest twists when you see him. Something doesn't feel right. She is very beautiful.

I wrote the letter in deep language, with love.

I came to the street and smiled as much as I wanted. Omar is no longer exempt. I got on the bus and saw Farhad. My classmate Emdad's younger brother. In his first year at university. I can't remember the subject.

He greeted me and said: Brother, will you give me a lodging?

: I don't live in lodging. They have a lot of lodging. He also told me to give news when I find someone. Go and tell him.

: I said, don't give.

: Why?

: He won't let me lodge.

I said goodbye to Farhad and went to my room. I was supposed to go out with friends on Friday but didn't go. Omar sent the news, they have to go home on Friday. Happy birthday to her.

What do I take?

After much thought, I wrote a letter to Omar's girlfriend & Niha Nishita. Omar was so happy to read the letter that he returned the entire commission to me that month.

I was surprised and said: If you return it?

Omar surprised me even more and said: Honor your writing. Sir, the letter is torn.

Writing honor! I was shocked. The first income to write, this is a huge deal! Then why didn't I write for so long! Encouraged by Omar, I started writing in newspapers. Then slowly writing became my addiction.

No matter how many stories I tell, no matter how many love letters I write,

I keep Omar engaged in reading in such a way that he slowly leans towards the book, all his joys come from other places and start crowding the pages of the book. He used to tell his father about chocolate, now he talks about books. Earlier his cupboards were filled with electronics materials; Now there is the Encyclopিয়াdia Britannica, a book by world-renowned authors. He took the name of the book from me and brought it with his father. If not in the country, from abroad. What an expensive book, it seemed to me: getting the wishes of the able-bodied.

After three more months my salary is fifteen rupees. Huge amount, many government officials did not get so much salary then. Now Omar owes six hundred rupees.

On the last day of the month I went to pay Omar six hundred rupees. He lowered his eyes in shame. Not moving forward as fast as before: Sorry sir.

: Take your money.

: No need sir.

: Hey, take it. What do I do with so much money?

: Sir, as much money as I give you in a month, I eat much more expensive chocolate in one day. The price of a chocolate is one hundred rupees, I eat twenty chocolates a day alone. Comes from Switzerland at the behest of the father.

Then I said: No.

: No need sir.

: Why?

I used to play cards and give it to Niha Nishat. Now I feel like wasting time playing cards, reading books. Niha is happy as long as I give it to Nishat, just wants and wants. Books just go by, nothing wants.

I came out with a smile of success.

After the annual examination, I stopped going to Omar's house. Mr. DIG said to start teaching again after one month. He will not leave a good master like me. If there is a transfer, take it there.

Fifteen or twenty days later I saw a huge car parked in front of my mess house. It is understood that the car of a big police officer.

I came out with a toothache.

Omar and his father get out of the car.

Mr. DIG said: Master, my son has finished third in the annual examination. He had never been in his fifties before. Within a year you have changed my son. It seems miraculous to me.

Praise gave me a strange joy in the book.

Mr. DIG raised a watch in my hand and said: My younger brother brought it for me from Switzerland. I gave it to you. It is not an exchange, it is a gift; Patterns of love.

My eyes blink with joy. No one has ever given me such a gift.

Omar grabbed my leg and saluted: Sir, you have changed me.

Mr. DIG embraced me emotionally with such behavior of Mr. Omar: Mr. Master, Mr. Omar did not care about me either. I was just a basket of money with this little boy. You made him from beast to man. Tell me how it was possible?

I said: Love, only love.

: What do you want from me?

: Love, just love.

Tuition and love !!!!

Thanks for Reading..