‘The fish kept alive to tell the story’, is a story of a fish and my grandmother. Many times, with my cousins, I caught a big fish to make a feast but grandmother always had a reason to set the fish free. Twenty-three years back my grandmother’s home was destroyed by river encroachment. So she forcibly shifted to a nearby place. For the rest of her life, she always remembered that particular fish. Since that incident, I never returned to the house of beautiful memories.
In 2018, while shifting to the USA, my uncle has given me two film rolls of his wedding images. The images had the memory of that home which lost in river erosion. It relieved me of the fish, which my grandmother set it free. Sometimes I ask myself is the fish still play around in the river Sandha.
It’s a rekindling of mine, in search of the fish and the beautiful home we lost. It’s an imaginary path of the fish that might swim in the stream of Padma. The river had taken everything other than the memories.
