A grandmother time travels to the hardest time in her life, reflecting on one of history's most tragic - and forgotten event, The Bangladesh Liberation War.
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When I was a little girl we visited my dadi in Habiganj. One day we visited the Kushiyara River because baba and chachu wanted to go fishing. Ammu didn't want me going because she thought I wouldn't like it but baba and chachu thought it would be fun for me to tag along. Of course, mothers always know best and I ended up vomiting all over baba's lap the second the little boat started to move. Since then, I vowed to never get on a boat again.
But here I was cuddled in a small boat on the Piyain river. Somehow, we will go through the river and end up in Meghalaya State in India. Bhabi had been crying since morning and the tears wouldn't halt. At the rate she was crying we might create a new river. Bhai was adamant on not fleeing and stayed in Bangladesh. It was Ammu, Baba, Bhabi and my husband. The night was calm, the dark sky had a blanket of stars covering it and the moon glistened beautifully in the sky. There was no heavy wind or rain which made the paddling easy. I had a chador wrapped around me, it was a cold night and a flashlight in hand to help guide our way. "Drop the flashlight" my husband said slowly but frantically. Suddenly we stopped paddling. I turned off the flashlight, hiding it under my chador.
Baba was breathing frantically, "We have to turn back" he whispered. I looked straight ahead, quite far away there were irregular shots of light. Everyone was thinking the same thing. They were soldiers. Most likely the ones not on our side. We were still far from the border so chances are they were patrolling for anyone trying to escape. There was a 50/50 chance of them shooting us dead or they were soldiers who would gladly help us onto the other side. The latter was highly unlikely and none of us wanted to find out. "Slowly... Let's turn the boat" Bhabi whispered.
Hesitantly, we began shifting, being very careful not to create any loud splashes or noise in the water. The river was deathly silent, the only thing that felt like could be heard was the sound of our hearts beating out of our chests. I didn't want to say it aloud but... if there were soldiers on one end of the river... wouldn't there be more on the other side?
