Ruminations
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More than a decade ago, she migrated to the city along with my parents to the teeming city. Dexterous pruning and proper care by baba resulted in an artistic moulding of the thick stems and made the plant look exactly like a hopeful human with arms widely spread towards the sky.
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Sometimes, my non-Bengali schoolmates mention that even though they remember how to read Bengali, they avoid reading/ cannot read my posts because , naturally, it becomes a lengthy exercise. So I decided to write this post in English. The festive season has just begun, and this post is about a common memory associated with festivities from the yesteryear that I want to share with them all. Maybe many of them are already aware of the piece of history I am about to share — yet, no harm in going through the same once more.
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A couple of weeks back, my parents had come to spend a fortnight with me.After they arrived, my father asked for something from me. He wanted to get a colour printout of a particular area of Bangladesh from the wikimapia or any other site that provides detailed political map of any country. He said he was very troubled after hearing from somebody that the small town in Bangladesh, where he had spent his childhood , had been washed away by the flood, more after the devastating g attack of Sidr, the mini Tsunami which hit Bangladesh last month. He said he was losing his memory gradually, and didnt want to forget his utopia of childhood, and as a last resort, wanted to get a coloured printout of the area in the map - which I knew, would in no way compensate or stand up to the verdant memories of childhood.