my grandparents

Published: 25 April 2026, 11:35 AM

Not poetry, but real experience. True stories from your own life or eyes; All events filled with joy or success or humane, positive or unexpected. Maximum word count is 600. Stay in the country or abroad; Send with name, address, phone number to: [email protected]

Nanabari has not been visited in the last four decades. I thought, let’s visit the dream house of childhood and youth once. I went there alone on Friday, February 27. The day before leaving, I said to my elder grandson Tanzeef, ‘Nanabhaiya, I will go to my grandmother’s house tomorrow.’

বিজ্ঞাপন

The old private road leading to Nanabari from the main road is no more. You have to enter through a road like an alley.

Upon entering, the new huge mosque came into view. Other uncles including our respected Abu Mama have demolished the old one and built it keeping in mind the present and future needs. They will be thanked for this. Still cousin Himu and I thought, without demolishing the old mosque, it could not be extended upwards by raising pillars around and adding new stairs on both sides?

বিজ্ঞাপন

As soon as I stepped into the yard, I saw that the big yard had lost its originality in size and shape. Concrete patios do not smell of soil. Buildings of various colors have been built by demolishing the old houses around. I threshed paddy for many days and evenings walking around on the cow’s tail in that huge yard.

The canal that I used to go to Nanabari with my mother in a boat is almost dead today. There was no rhythm to the clattering sound of the book while sailing the boat. The boat swayed slightly. When the boats crowded the wharf with sleepy eyes, it seemed that there is no one happier than me.

On the day my beloved great uncle pressed his hands and feet on the floor and asked Hazam to perform circumcision on my circumcision with a bamboo knife, I felt very ashamed.

My younger uncle, who was almost the same age, could not accept my presence in his ancestral home. I also thought, who are you in my house!

Grandparents used to address each other as you. He used to exchange greetings. Now I think, if I could return to that world if I was reborn!

The trees in the bushes near Sage Nana’s house were my students. I used to talk to them for a long time. Their calm and stillness made my momentary teaching very enjoyable.

I wrote a letter to Badda Abba (Nana’s Abba) from Abba’s work place Jhenaidah using words like ‘Pakjanabeshu’ and ‘Kadambusi’. Badda Abba was a learned man. Impressed by my scholarship, he called everyone and read the letter. Although many memories of Nanabari have been erased, the sound of Badda Abba’s hooves still rings in the ears.

After noon on that day, a plum festival was arranged for children and teenagers. At first a few people came, but their joy and excitement spread from house to house like the sound of a flute. Many sisters, mothers came out. Instantly 34 kg of kulbar was gone. I could touch my childhood and youth for a moment.

On my behalf cousin Labu and his wife Pia organized a small iftar for everyone. I had Iftar with the students of the Madrasa attached to the mosque.

Although many changes are visible, it is nice to see that the hospitality remains intact.

The next day after offering Fajr prayers, Mamima gave her cousin Mitu many cakes with designs of butterflies, flowers and birds. It seems that Nani Amma is alive inside Mitu. It was still a little dark around in the winter fog. The front glass of the car was getting wet again and again. I blocked the flow of my tears. I did the same while visiting the graves of Badda Abba (Pandit Abdul Aziz) and all relatives.

Despite my strong interest, I could not create a homely environment for my two grandsons. But my prayer is that every child has a Nanabari in their psyche.

Gee, my grandparents address: Handit (Pandit) house, Bejargaon (Brajgaon), Anhsyaara (Amishapara), Honamuri (Sonaimuri), Noakhali.

Source: Prothom Alo Bangla

Topics: Bangladesh
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