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| Saba and I on a boat crossing the river to Durgapur |
Another year and another birthday, this time my big 60 and I
decided to go away to
Bangladesh
in the hope to be in
Durgapur
on my birthday. Not a quick and an easy ride to Durgapur which is in the North
of Dhaka over looking the border of India, so I gave myself 4 weeks in
Bangladesh to make sure I make to Durgapur on 24
th April 2010.
I landed in Dhaka on 9th April 2010 and there was
a party being organised in my honour, provided I (because I have a foreign passport)
help my host to buy some hard liquor from local seedy drink den only found
behind closed doors. Using me and my passport to buy unlawful drinks did not
work, so my host had to rope in an elite, top notch society local lady to help
him talk to the gate keeper of the den to open the gates so that we could load
a car full of illegal hard stuff. For me waiting for the drink bottles to
arrive in an empty room behind the gates was like waiting in a doctor’s
surgery, I was nervous, but my host was well relaxed about the whole experience
of breaking the law of his own land! The party went well for those who loved
the Western life style; there was plenty to drinks, getting easily drunk by
mixing drinks, lots of food, music and dance. The elite
beautiful Bangladeshi lady with her Bangladeshi toy boy and lots more guests were
enjoying themselves in the early hours of the following day whilst I decided to be in bed by ten pm, couldn’t keep up with the night life of the rich and powerful of
Bangladesh?
The next few weeks of my stay in my host’s accommodation, in
a very posh area of
Dhaka I was left alone
with his partner. Whilst with her ( the partner)
everyday I had to endure some horror stories
of how she had been treated by her ex-husband and why she had to leave her ex
and make a new life for herself and her daughter. To make their voices heard, self harming is popular with
Bangladeshi women and my host’s partner had lots of scars on her arms
as a proof of her unhappy married life.
After two weeks of posh life style, a bedroom and a bathroom
of my own, plus lots of room to swing few cats, I moved with my friend Saba,
who had a flat in not very posh area of
Dhaka
and shared 3 bedrooms flat with five other female friends. I slept on the floor
in the living room most nights when other rooms were occupied. Most household
in
Bangladesh
have live - in female servant. Within few days of my stay with Saba, I felt
that there were too many women making too many demands on the poor female servant
whom
Saba had hired from her village.
Saba eventually found herself getting rid of her servant,
(not out of choice) and sending her back to the village life she did not want! Still
waiting, hoping and wishing for my journey to begin to Durgapur with Saba,
(without her I would be lost) I had to attend her niece’s
wedding , (at a very short notice) who had seen
and fancied a boy in her village only few days before her wedding day and
wanted to get married to escape unhappy home life. A day after the wedding one
of the young female servant who attended the wedding and knew
Saba
drank bleach to make her voice heard; female and also male servants are not
always treated fairly by their employers. Poor Saba had to rescue the young
girl from the hospital whilst I stayed back to see what next the life unfolded
for women of
Bangladesh!
Finally three days before my birthday, Saba was free of all
demands of life thrown upon her whilst I was around and we made our way to Durgapur, stopping in
Natrekona to hire a car big enough to drive over huge muddy pot holes. We also
collected some more passengers to help us on our journey. We had to hire boats
to cross a fast flowing river and finally mounted motor bikes, the only
possible way to reach the border of Bangladesh
and India outside Durgapur. Not a vey
exciting place to be, there is a private Christian school but as planed I made it there on
my birthday and looked over
the barb wire and waved to my beloved India next door.
I went to Bangladesh
for my birthday because I really did not think anybody would remember the
time, day or year of my birth, but how wrong I was!! For a whole week from 24th
April, Saba kept reminding everyone of my
special day and I was showered with all sorts of presents I could do without
and left them behind. The only useful present I cherished was a Jackfruit (in
season) which I carried back all the way back to Dhaka
and shared with all others in the flat. It was too big to be eaten alone!
I said my
farewell to Saba on the 6th May
2010 and that was the last time I saw her. On 17th December 2010, my
friend Saba who was young, beautiful and had everything to live for, could
not cope with dreaded thing called life and she hanged herself on a foreign soil , thousands of
miles away from her family and her closest friends.
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