nisha rameen H Fleming Freshmen English 30 November 2006 The day I changed myself It was sunny afternoon in the middle of the summer. I was reading a book. Then my mother called me and told that, I and my family are moving from our country. My calm mind sudden changed in temper mind. I was shocked. Was I hearing something wrong? That came to my mind first. Because I could not imagine that she can tell me such matter in such an easy mood. But what I heard and what expression I see in my mother’s face was completely right. That incident came like a storm and floated everything with it. I lived in Bangladesh. For fourteen years Bangladesh had been my home. Everyone loves their country, but when they leave their country then they understand what their country, their language, their culture is. A country is like man’s shelter. Everyone is well-known about their environment, but when one goes to another country, they understand that no one is familiar to him. That is exactly my case. By attending a public school with one thousand students from preschool through grade eight I grew up with the same friends and classmates in each grade since the age of five. We know each other so well that we were like family, and I blossomed in this sheltered environment. This sheltered environment was shattered on the 22nd July 2008 when my family received a large, white, official envelope with the seal of United States of America. After hearing that news from my mother’s mouth, my mind was full of questions. All questions are initially run through my emotional mind and my parents are refused to answer my questions. How could they force such a change in my life and ignore my questions? My parents were being cruel, not because they were making move but because they were completely ignoring my feelings and questions. My opinions and feelings meant nothing to them because they made the choice on their own. I ran to my room and shut the door. What I heard just five minutes ago, my mother’s voice was chanting those words beside me. During which time I could absorb the fact that I was just going to left my friends, my country, and my home. And I could quite possibly never see Bangladesh again. Not because I wanted to, but because my parents had not given me any choice. I was torn between sadness at going to leave my whole life behind and a feeling of anxiety at starting a new life in an unknown world. After the first push of that incident I settle down and called my best friend who always supported me in my worse times. I told him the full matter. I shouted, I cried and asked him that, what I did that; god is giving me that type of punishment. He had no word to console me except listen to me. He listen the full matter quietly.
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