A person who has an acute ego can never accomplish success. Ego can stop an individual from judging what one’s mind actually realizes. The sole purpose of thinking something that does not match the standard of one’s ego can stop a person from thinking about that topic. That, in turn, reduce a person’s imaginary potential.

Ego refers to a part of the mind that has a sense of individuality and that’s what makes a person selfish and self-centred.
The effects of ego can be numerous.

Some of the more important and visible ones are:-

An egoistic person will always hesitate from helping other or rather indulge himself/herself in any social activities as a severe selfishness always works within.

Ego brings in a person a sense of pride and high-headedness, which means he/she has a habit of always using sophisticated materials, traveling to expensive places etc.

He/she can never realize or rather believe they are wrong by any means.
CORRECTIONS:-
Ego is never permanent, and can always be corrected.

An egoistic person should spend time with a cool-headed and a practical personality to make him/her realize the difference of the two individuals.

He/she should never be encouraged by their families and friends to continue that way. We should always remember that ego begins from an early age probably when we are kids, so, parents should constantly be the correctional force.

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I was about to get endorsed to class 11, “yes, you guessed it correct the ICSEs were fast approaching.” I was studying hard and with all commitment to top this year’s examinations. But then she came into my life. A charming, young, striking girl of about ten and six.  She was special rather gifted. From here my story of love,  fate and the  painful revival of it starts.

I started to go to a privateguidance of English.  The tuition was intense as it was the end of the scholastic yearand the examinations were fast approaching. I was new there and had no friends. It was co-ed tuition.
It was the first day in tuition and I came a bit early than the scheduled time. I waited, may be for an hourand then she came. Her first glimpse unleashed a feeling of adoration, attraction and admiration in my mind.

She came in and she raised her hand, “Hi, Shriyanka.” I raised my hand with hesitation, ”H…-Hi, Siddharth, Sid.”  She said, “Sid, sounds interesting.” I probed, “you’re from ACB right.” “Yes you guessed it right.” Then one by one the the other students appeared, I got their introductions. But the one that touched my heart was an introduction which had a charm related to it, “Hi, Shriyanka…”  Then for the next few days I just thought of her, I could understand that my cognizance was diverting from studies towards her. But I couldn’t help it. Days passed and we came closer and closer… We were now probably the best friends.  I often had frequent discussions with her. During one of these frequent discussions, I got access to her phone number, e-mail-id. Our discussions got even more passionate.

Meantime one of my U.T. papers were out, I had scored a disappointing twenty upon thirty. Everybody asked me the cause I replied a unsatisfactory, “nothing.” The final exams were a week later. She suddenly stopped coming to the tution. I rang her for more than thirty times a day, mailed her may be ten times at once. But in vain there was no reply from her. I checked my FB status,  there was a long awaited message from her. “Don’t call me again. I had felt in love with you, but I stopped myself at the very beginning of it. So with deep regret I say you Bye be happy, be successful.” regards, Shriyanka.

After receiving this message I was distraught, depressed. I could not believe that this was the same ‘she’ who raised her hand when I had no friends,  this was that ‘she’ for whom I sacrificed my studies. This is the very ‘she’ whom I loved. I could not bear this betrayal. I set my mind to take revenge, but not by physical means, not even by saying a few improper words to her, but by proving myself, my worth, my potential. I promised to myself that very day,’ I will succeed in proving myself’.

But what was going through me could only be understood, rather felt only by me. “My life was becoming a room with all the curtains closed, dark and frustrating. But there was still a beam of light entering through the curtains. Life was dark yet colourful. This versatility of life was unknown to me. But I just understood one part of it. There is light, there is hope for me to come out of this room, this misery.” The examinations started. I felt that extra bit of fortitude that was essential to top this year. ‘I have to take revenge’, this was the very thing that I used to pronounce in my mind before starting every examinations.

‘THE EXAMS ENDED’
The reports were due. But finally that day came, the day where I could realise if I had the quality of ‘Getting up stronger than I fell’.  “Yes”, I was successful. I had topped the country in ICSE. I could feel within me that inferno burning, that indescribable feeling of pride and most importantly the revenge that I achieved.  Yes, life throws unexpected obstacles towards us but it is us who has to face it with intellect and certainly proficiency.

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We are people who live in one of the most celebrated cities in the world. We are ‘Bengalis’.

Those little bongs, little incidents that we share in our lives makes this tradition so wonderful, so lovely. In the little backstreets and club rooms, people of all  ages ranging from eight to eighty share their thoughts, enjoyments and miseries. The older generation meet at the bazaar in the morning with the typical ‘bazaar bags’ in their hands, greeting their local friends “Aaj amar chele, Americar theke asche, tai…”

Another one would interrupt and complete the sentence “thak thak bazaar korte eschen tai jonne.” The young people prefer dusk or more traditionally known as ‘bikel bela’. They grab seats at the tea stall and talk about their respective lives, studies and girls. The women though are concentric towards their families. They would rather love to get compliments from their husbands and other elders of the family than spending time with their friends.

When we realise our lives as Bengalis, we fall in love with the idiosyncrasies, crazy way of life of ours. The hilsa, rasogollas, adda and chaa are stuff we just can’t avoid, being brought up as a Bengali. Oh! I forgot to mention the ‘Rabindra Sangeet’.

Days are passing by and the touch of western culture is erasing the rich Bengali tradition. We are the one who should protect it. Once gone, we will never get it back. We should never forget that we have the richest tradition. Where else can we get the love and affection that we get in the bengali homes, the mouth-watering food and the enjoyment during ‘Durga puja’. We should be proud to be a Bengali and more proud to live in the undisputed CITY OF JOY- Kolkata, the city with the richest history and bongs…

BENGALLY YOURS

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