[From Our Archive]

I returned to Dhaka this year after completing my graduation from Canada. Since I’ve been back, I have continuously been conscious of the facts which were different when I lived alone abroad. My choices were immense, from subway sandwiches to which professor to take for which course, nothing was as rigid as Dhaka. While in Dhaka, even where I’m going to work is not entirely my choice. Fhuchka: Photo: Nazia HussainIf I want to switch my job, that is not just upon me, if I want to go for shopping even that depends on the availability of our car, the traffic and finding time for it. What I’m going to wear today does not depend on the current trend or my choice in clothing, it depends on where I’m going and who I’m going to be around.

So have I made the wrong decision of returning home? None of my Bangali friends from Canada returned after graduation, and most if not all, who are here want to go out of the country. Many here think that with the political unrests the country has little or no potential, and everyone, absolutely everyone questions my decision of returning back home.

But I disagree with all of them. I returned because I lived alone and learned to appreciate the love of family and friends who I grew up with. I returned because I didn’t want to wake up one morning and hear a death news from back home and realize I never got a chance to tell that person how much he/she meant to me. I returned home because I’d rather give up my subway sandwich choices to have Fakruddin’s biriyani and Kheer at weddings. I returned home because my Dhaka city, my typical Bangla medium school (Viquarunnia Noon School and College), my chadni chawk and Gausia market, New market’s chatpati and Taja Pholer Rosh, Baily road’s hang out and flirting joints, long drives to Ashulia made me who I am. How could I not return to all these things which made me appreciate and accept the best of the west and reject the worst? How could I not return to my city which no matter how polluted, noisy and dirty still welcomes me with its odd yet familiar smell? How could I not return to the city which made me the strong, dedicated and proud Bangali that I am today?

I noticed a tendency of disinterest among fellow Bangalis abroad about returning to Bangladesh. I completely respect and understand their concern for lack of security and lifestyle differences here in Bangladesh. At the same time I strongly believe that this is a condition we need to work on rather than to keep criticizing while living and contributing towards the betterment of another developed country. I think the number of younger generation going abroad for higher studies has reached its peak right now. It is important for them to realize that they are the ones who can make the country a better place. We cannot afford to spend time in thinking or making assumptions about how hard it would be to bring any change in Bangladesh. Rather if we start returning to the country and contribute in whatever little ways we can, a difference will be made. It is not possible for a single person to bring any change, but if we work as a group we can make a better place for our children.

When I go around Dhaka today, I can point things to which a member of my family was connected somehow. I know my father’s contribution to the city and can point to my acquaintances. But the question is will my children be able to point their mother’s contribution to her own country? Will they speak the language I grew up speaking? Will they know the bliss of crowding at Ramna Botomul in red and white sari on Pohela Boishakh? Will they know the charm of singing on top of our lungs the Rabindra and Nazrul Shangeets? Will they know the beauty of the Shundarbans, the hill tracks or the Bay of Bengal? Will they know my Dhaka city the way I do?

Source: Of Choices and Decisions