Letter from Samsad from Bangladesh to Suad in UK

Sender: Samsad Jahan

Senders Location: Rajshahi, Bangladesh

Receiver: Suad Khan

Receiver Location: Glasgow, UK 

Translation: 

Dear,

 

Hope you are well. When I was a child and just started to write one or two words, my mother used to send my writing of broken words as letters to my maternal grandfather and grandmother. Mother used to mention in the letter, “Father, Jahan has learned to write. I am sending you her handwriting.” I heard these from my father. I never actually wrote a letter before or never felt the need as you may say. Today I am writing to you. I went to Sirajganj a few days ago. I will write about the experience of that journey. It will not do justice if I call it a mere experience of a journey. Rather it is a walk down memory lane, visiting the change of the place where I spent days of my childhood, where I grew up.

 

Sirajganj highway is frequently used for commuting. But I have never stopped there in the past 13 years. I got the chance to live in many places due to the moving nature of my father's job, but we never got the chance to return to the places we left behind. We had lived in the Belkuchi area of Sirajganj for around 3 years. I was around seven or eight back then. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Samsad Jahan, currently studying in my Honors 3rd year at Rajshahi University. I am living in Rajshahi for that purpose. Last week during the holiday, I suddenly got this idea of setting out somewhere. Targeting nowhere, I boarded a Dhaka-bound train but got down at Sirajganj. Then I took a local bus to a place called Belkuchi. I did not know even then when I was going there, or whether it would be ok to go there. It felt like I had come to an unknown place once I got down at the bus stand. The roads were spacious. Well-planned urbanization. I decided that I would visit the house where we used to live. I started walking to the destination at a slow pace. Every corner of this city held so many of little Jahan’s memories. The newly built roads are unknown and yet I could see the old city and its roads when I closed my eyes. I reached Adalat Para. Padma, Meghna, and Jamuna, three similar-looking quarters stood there in a queue. We used to live on the second floor of the middle building. The buildings changed quite a lot but the place that witnessed everything remained unchanged. Perhaps the buildings also want to move to another place but what can they do! I rushed to the rooftop without thinking much. This place is so memorable! Shuvo Bhaiaya and I made a rooftop garden by carrying soil from the ground. There is no sign of that today though. It is not supposed to. We used to live on the first floor and Shuvo Bhiaya used to live on the ground floor. Shuvo bhaiya was a significant part of my childhood. He was three-four years older than me. He taught me so many games on this very rooftop. Sometimes it was Cricket, sometimes it was Badminton. Suddenly I noticed the two water tanks on the rooftop. We bathed so many times standing on the water tanks and by pulling water from them in the Summer! I guess no one does such crazy things anymore. The large field in front of the house is not empty anymore. Some buildings stood there. It felt like something was missing. Then I realized there was no Screech Owl there. There used to be some huge Raintree trees behind the building. We used to get enchanted by the fragrance of the Raintree flower in the Monsoon. As there were no trees, there were no Screech Owls. I used to get afraid of them as a child. I knocked at the door on the second floor while coming down. A person appeared and asked, “Who are you?” My eyes were stuck on the colors of the wall. How much it has changed. Without replying I came out feeling highly disappointed and nostalgic. I did not notice anyone familiar. While walking slowly, I suddenly realized that the loud sound of the loom was missing. The new mechanical looms that are nearly soundless have replaced them. Perhaps the people living here have taken such a drastic change as a normal thing. But it felt like an unusual necropolis to me. I did not feel like moving forward after seeing so much change. I started again for Rajshahi empty-hearted with a deep sense of melancholy. I was thinking that human beings witness change every day, and only the immobile buildings laced with emotions, feelings, and reminiscences of people like me remain behind. Perhaps, they also will disappear with the passage of time. I have seen a lot of changes in Rajshahi for the past seven years, but that did not affect me as much.

 

I have said a lot of things. No more today. Write to me about your own city.

 

Your Penfriend

Samsad Jahan