The tragic story of Shantana's life

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3 years ago
Topics: Life, Story

When I was a child, I heard a story from my grandmother and cried in secret for a long time. I also remember that story. My father has not been in business for a long time. The mother left her only teenage daughter Sukanya at home and went to the river bank. The mugs were taken away by the pirates. Upon receiving the news, Sukanya went to the river bank and asked him what he was doing. Then much more. The sad story of the merchant daughter Sukanya. It still seems that Sukanya is still rolling in the river bank of this country crying for her mother. The sad story of Sukanya heard as a child still floats in my eyes.

After hearing the story of peace in the Padma village of Barguna, devastated by the Sidr, I remembered the story of Sukanya, which I had repeatedly heard from my grandmother when I was a child. I still can't erase from my memory that picture of the roar of peace and ahazari under the keya tree on the sea shore. I can't forget the heart-wrenching words of Shantana Bairagi, 'Where will I go now if God does the same? I don't have anyone in Tribhuvan. God, why didn’t you take me with your parents? ’I don’t know if there is any language in the world to give peace to peace, I couldn’t find any language.

November 2006. Cyclone Sidr hit the coastal area on 15 November. Went to Barguna devastated by Sidr to report. Ever since reaching Barguna, Manibjamin's Barguna representative friend Mujibul Haque Kislu has been bringing news almost every hour, which area has suffered more damage and which area has become more devastated. More people have died in any area. News after news. I couldn't decide which area to go to before. I decided to go to a more remote area first. Kislu said, now all areas are inaccessible, even to the suburbs. Although I was a little annoyed with Kislu, I got the truth of his words after entering the field.

I got the news of Gora Padma village four days later. That village is on the sea shore. It will be thirteen or fourteen kilometers from Barguna district headquarters. Kislu said that it is possible to go three to four kilometers in a van and then on foot. I come to Barguna and send two reports every day. I will tell the office to leave a report for the next day. In the state of communication, it is impossible to go out in the morning and send the report back in the afternoon. It is night to return. I write reports at night. I do it at night. Three o'clock at night or four o'clock at night. I got up again at 5 am and went to the village. There is no shortage of news. News wherever I go in Barguna. News on the way. News at home. I have seen with my own eyes the news of death in Sidr, nine grasses, a bunch of bananas, chewing young banana leaves. Eat boiled fish in hot water without salt, boiled raw banana. Of course, these did not seem to be news then. The news was something more frightening. I ran after them.

It was half past noon to reach Padma village. The village is only a hundred yards away from the sea shore. There is no such thing as a village, there are signs of a village. Going closer, it is understood that there was a settlement here once. The houses of the whole village have been blown up, one and a half to two kilometers away from here. The people are sitting on the fence next to the village. It was learned that out of 500 people of Gora Padma village, 75 died in Sidr.

I started writing about peace. With peace of mind seen here. Listening to Shantana's words, he stopped writing notes. The pen doesn't move anymore. Her tears, wailing and lamentation. The wind became heavy. As soon as the storm started, Kamlesh Bairagi took shelter in the embankment with Shantana and her mother, leaving the house before everyone else in the village. Three people stood holding a big acacia tree. Suddenly Kamlesh Bairagi remembered that his four cows had not been released. Run towards the house. The house is only one hundred yards away from the embankment. Seeing Kamlesh Bairagir returning late, his wife went to fetch him quickly.

The peace of standing alone while holding a tree in the embankment. Kamlesh Bairagi was returning to the embankment with his wife. The real storm begins. And they did not return to the embankment. Two of them died just fifteen yards from the dam. Survival is peace alone. Thirteen-fourteen-year-old Shantana's patriarchal family has no relatives. Her father came and started living in the village of Gora Padma at an early age. He bought a place here and built a house. He also bought seven bighas of paddy land. They had a prosperous family. There is no other Hindu family in that village. Shantana knows that her mother's father's house was in Barisal. There is no one there for them. My father used to say that his original home was in Bagerhat. After losing his parents at the same time as a child, he wandered around like a lost traveler and took his place here. At first he used to fish in the sea. Gradually he started farming by saving some money and buying crop land. After the birth of peace, he did not go to sea.

There was rice in the house. He also had cash. There were cows in the barn. It's all over with Sidr's blow. There are only a few signs of the house. Sidre was hit on November 15. Meet Shantana on 21st November. Sometimes 5 days. No water fell in the stomach. There is no news in the house, there is no food in the house. No one in the village has anything in their stomach. There is no one to tell the message of peace to someone who has lost a relative. Who will give peace to whom? There is not a single family in Gora Padma village whose relatives have not been lost.

Sidr has taken away someone's child, someone's husband, someone's wife, someone's brother or sister. Crying in the house. Famine in the house. The pain of hunger has forgotten the pain of losing many relatives after four days. I saw a mother who had lost her husband giving her child a piece of grass by the sea to chew it up if he lost some of his appetite. After the news of Gora Padma village was published in the newspaper, dry food was thrown from the helicopter.

It has been felt again and again to stay in Barguna, once again I go to the village of Gora Padma, to see Shantana. Didn't go. For many years after that, when I thought of Sidr, the words of peace came to my eyes. Sometimes it seems that nature is so cruel. I remember the last sentence of peace, 'God', what if you are so cruel? Where do I go now? Who do I go to?

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