Rasha: Little Girl, Big Heart by Muhammed Zafar Iqbal. Penguin Books Ltd; August ; ISBN: ; Title: Rasha; Author: Muhammed Zafar Iqbal. Free download or read online ✅Rasha bangla book from the category of Muhammed Zafar Iqbal. Portable Document Format (PDF) file size of Rasha is MB. Finally click on the "SUBMIT" button to download your ✅Rasha - Muhammed Zafar Iqbal. Rasha [Muhammed Zafar Iqbal] on tyoususnappsave.ml *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Books contents are arriving very soon. Keep watching this Marketplace.
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Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. Start by marking Muhammed Zafar Iqbal. · Rating রাশা / Rasha (Bengali): Bengali Novel. The breathtaking story of a feisty young girlFifteen-year-old Rasha is abando 4 would be justified if I hadn't read so many Jafar Iqbal books before. He really. Pdf Bangla Book Rasha By Muhammad Zafar Iqbal. Download or read Bengali pdf books online. Rasha is a very nice book by Muhammad Zafar Iqbal.
And under this program our school is about to get a computer too. This was genuine good news, not the adulterated kind. The computer is not like a television set, where all you have to do is press a switch for the program to start and the singing and dancing to begin. The computer is a very delicate machine.
You must know how to use it. Experts program computers. They use computers to write emails, to paint, to explore the Internet. Does everyone understand?
The headmaster was pleased at their exuberance. Then people from Dhaka will come to install a computer in our school. We will be able to tell everyone that our school does not lag behind when it comes to information technology.
There were cries of joy from the students again. Only Rasha sighed instead of cheering. A single computer for several hundred students, and Razzak Sir in charge! None of the children would even be allowed to touch the computer, let alone use it. The only good news was that Razzak Sir would be in Dhaka for a week.
It would be a happy time for the students, for they would not be caned. There was excitement in the school the next week. Lime was stirred into buckets of water and an attempt made to whitewash the walls.
The outcome was horrifying— patches of stark white here and there made the school look unfamiliar. The students were made to weed the fields and clean the classrooms.
On the day before the computer was to be installed, the headmaster showered advice on the students. I'm warning you, no one must be barefoot, everyone should be in shoes or sandals. Oil your hair and comb it. If the guests from Dhaka ask a question, answer pleasantly, using perfect grammar. No one must talk or cause a disturbance during the event.
Pay attention to whatever is said. Remember, if you can create a good impression we might get more computers in the future.
When she arrived in school she discovered a frenzy of activity. All the benches had been taken out of the classrooms and set out in the middle of the courtyard. A table and chairs had been laid out on the veranda. Towels had been draped over the backs of the chairs, while the table was covered with a white cloth. A microphone stood on one side, and two large speakers had been set up. Several CDs were arranged next to the computer.
A vase adorned the table, with shiny plastic flowers in it. At the back of the veranda stood a large white screen, with a video projector on a small table in front of it. The headmaster was rushing about, wearing a tie.
Razzak Sir was dressed in a shining safari suit. The other teachers were also dressed well. With all the benches outside, there was nowhere to sit in the classrooms.
The students were sitting on the benches in the yard in silence. The headmaster suddenly remembered something and rushed toward the students.
Where are the Class Nine girls? So two girls from Class Eight were added. Sanjida and Rasha. Shutting her eyes, Rasha turned her face toward the sky and whispered, "Thank you Allah, thank you very much. She waited calmly, so that no one would know her heart was thumping like a moving train.
Eventually the guests arrived—two cars pulling up in the school field, followed by a police vehicle. When the guests emerged from the car, the headmaster led them to the stage, overcome with gratitude at their presence.
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Despite the heat, one of the guests was in a suit and tie, the very sight of which made Rasha feel warm. One of the others, in a police uniform, was unwilling to sit on the stage, but the headmaster insisted. The guests were in a great hurry, for they would have to visit another school too. The ceremonies began at once.
Razzak Sir was the master of ceremonies. He heaped praises on the guests in a theatrical manner, almost foaming at the mouth in expressing his gratitude at the fact that the Superintendent of Police and the District Collector Sahib had wasted their valuable time in visiting a school as insignificant as this one.
Then the girls were called on stage to present the flowers. Rasha took the CD out of the book she had hidden it in, holding her hand behind her back so that no one could see it. Collecting her bouquet, she concealed the CD behind it. One by one, the girls went forward to present the bouquets.
When Rasha's turn came, she quietly put the CD on the top of the pile of CDs as she was passing the table. The gentleman in the suit accepted the bouquet from her, saying something which she could not hear clearly because her heart was beating furiously. Please do the rest. He signaled to a younger person sitting in front, who jumped to his feet and began to speak into the microphone. He seemed jovial and spoke well, so everyone listened to him with interest.
We will go straight to the best part of the day. Does anyone know what the best thing today is? But Hindi films! Not that I blame you—you must have seen them running Hindi films on the computer at some shop or the other. All right, what else? What else? There's a lot more you can do.
Instead of lecturing, let me show you. I'll download you one when you grow up. Which was precisely what happened. I want to take some pictures. He said, you won't lose it? It's an expensive phone. I said, no, I won't. But she didn't—she was waiting impatiently for the story to end. Ratan was in no hurry. I've taken lots of photos and videos with it. Take more photos, more videos. I'm going. I took my uncle's phone to school one day, without telling anyone.
They would just grab it if they knew, clamoring to have their pictures taken. It would fall from someone's hands and break. So I didn't show it to anyone. It takes me hours to get home. Finish your phone story now, and I'll listen to the rest tomorrow.
Muhammed Zafar Iqbal Books Download (মুহম্মদ জাফর ইকবালের বই)
I have to go. Suddenly an angry roar was heard from the phone. Rasha looked at it curiously, to discover Razzak Sir rushing forward with a cane, using it on a student till he was flat on the floor.
A first-class video. No one even saw me.
After exchanging a couple of words with Rasha, his cane flashed down on her palm. Unable to bear the sight, Rasha closed her eyes in a sort of terror. The teacher's brutal invectives streamed from the phone. It's vital for us. All right? Tell me how we can get a copy of this.
Asking grown-ups just leads to trouble. Isn't there a computer-phone-fax shop in the market? Bring this phone to school tomorrow, all right? In the afternoon we'll take it to the market and copy the video. Rasha put the discs away carefully—they were going to soon prove useful.
She would discuss this with Jahanara Madam the next time she saw her. She would be upset when she heard that Rasha had been caned this way, but there was nothing to be done. There had to be a law against beating children in school, under which Razzak Sir could be punished. He needed to be taught a lesson, but who was going to do it? However, a chance to do this suddenly appeared.
Rasha herself hadn't imagined that such a spectacular opportunity would present itself so soon. A few days earlier the headmaster had said he had good news for them: their MP would be be visiting.
All the children would have to welcome him, lining the road, holding tiny flags. From morning till late into the afternoon, all the students had waited with their flags, with the sun blazing overhead.
Everyone had been bathed in sweat. Eventually the MP had indeed turned up, a garland round his neck, surrounded by people. Fat and dark, he had walked past them without casting a single glance at the multitudes of schoolchildren lined up on either side of the road. So when the headmaster said there was good news, everyone looked at him apprehensively. Almost everyone raised their hands. This time all the hands went down, except Rasha's. Being the only one, she quickly lowered her hand too.
Rasha: Little Girl, Big Heart
We are very unfortunate in not even being able to display computers to our students. But your days of deprivation are about to end. You will be delighted to know that the Ministry of Education is giving computers to every school in the country.
And under this program our school is about to get a computer too. This was genuine good news, not the adulterated kind. The computer is not like a television set, where all you have to do is press a switch for the program to start and the singing and dancing to begin.
The computer is a very delicate machine. You must know how to use it. Experts program computers. They use computers to write emails, to paint, to explore the Internet. Does everyone understand? The headmaster was pleased at their exuberance. Then people from Dhaka will come to install a computer in our school. We will be able to tell everyone that our school does not lag behind when it comes to information technology. There were cries of joy from the students again. Only Rasha sighed instead of cheering.
A single computer for several hundred students, and Razzak Sir in charge! None of the children would even be allowed to touch the computer, let alone use it. The only good news was that Razzak Sir would be in Dhaka for a week.
Dr. Muhammad Jafar Iqbal
It would be a happy time for the students, for they would not be caned. There was excitement in the school the next week.
Lime was stirred into buckets of water and an attempt made to whitewash the walls. The outcome was horrifying— patches of stark white here and there made the school look unfamiliar. The freedom fight of Bangladesh was again a driving plot in this novel. I guess he was trying something different with a village setting — and he was almost successful with it too.
I guess I have grown out of the age group Zafar sir writes. Just thinking about it makes the story all the more real.
It centers on a girl with a broken family. And the story continues on with her facing several obstacles and how she overcomes those.
The overcoming of those obstacles though seemed exaggerated to some point but I am sure the writer put some thoughts on those stories to build up a child character as a bold and strong person who can stand against the wrong and injustice that are faced in regular life.
I read this book more than fifty times. I like this book, seriously love this book. Author Iqbal sir, finished this book in a great way.He is reluctant to admit that there are reasons for adults to be fond of him.
The students were sitting on the benches in the yard in silence.
Rasha By Muhammad Zafar Iqbal
I will take your skin off with this cane, I will beat you to a pulp. I'll show them to you one by one. I guess I have grown out of the age group Zafar sir writes for. In his childhood, he traveled various part of Bangladesh, because of his father's transferring job. These demons are killing our children, and we don't even know it. On the screen Razzak Sir was seen turning around. A vase adorned the table, with shiny plastic flowers in it. The speaker pushed him away so hard that he barely managed to save himself from falling off the stage.