I woke up from a dream. I dreamt that I was back in our old place; the place where I’ve spent first twelve years of my life. I wasn’t a child in the dream, but the place felt eerily familiar – it felt like home. Funny thing is after leaving from there, I never went back. I’ve visited the neighborhood, but never crossed the gate. Now, in hindsight, it appears to be a good thing. Cause you can never go home.
After waking up, I felt really depressed and to top it of, lonely. So, I decided to reconnect with my childhood. I went to Old Dhaka. There was a time when I used to go there almost everyday of the week. It wouldn’t be wrong if I say, I’ve spent half of my earlier days there.
The place is almost the same. Of course there are new buildings, new faces – but still it has remained pure somehow – uncorrupted from the ugly urban life. My relatives treat me exactly the same way they used to treat me when I was a child. I was actually surprised with my reception. I’ve been avoiding them for last couple of years… I just feel out of place in there. Well, I feel like the odd man out everywhere… so it isn’t a big surprise.
I don’t have that childish jovial approach to life anymore; I’ve become too cynical. But it felt good to talk. At least I could speak my mind, without thinking about the consequences. I wasn’t afraid of speaking the wrong stuff. Cause even if I did, they would just overlook it. I mean, these are the people who have changed my diapers. I’m still a child to them. I felt loved and wanted for a change.
I went to Lalbag Fort in the afternoon. It was a weird day. Perfect English weather. It was raining heavily one moment and the very next moment sun shone with all its glory. In my childhood, the fort was in ruins. I used to go there and play with my cousins. I don’t remember anything specific, besides those vague recollection of ghost stories and myths. I do have a photograph, in which I’m dressed like a Mughal prince – with fake crown and everything!
The place hardly resembles my childhood days. It has been renovated. Instead of the natural brick color it now sports an ugly pinkish look. Many places are now off limits, the pond is almost dead, Everything looks shiny and improved. But the old magic is gone. It doesn’t feel like a monument of past anymore. I didn’t feel like I was back in the Mughal rule. It is a modernised park now – no longer a memento of a father’s love to his daughter.
You should never try to go back. There is no going back. Some memories are better kept under lock and key – untouched.
