That is me, my mom and my brother. When my dad went to Iran, I was just 3 years old, and my baby brother a 3 month old infant. After his 6 months of his stay there, my dad could send a visa for all of us. And thus, we all got prepared to visit him.
My ma, she was a young beautiful girl of 26, right from the heart of a village in Bangladesh. A village where the mode of communication was only boats and boats; Where most of the people walked bare footed, had no separate bathrooms, washed themselves in rivers,shitted in the same rivers and cooked their rice with the same water; Where it used to be stark dark after the sun set, with the water gurgling around and the crickets humming. Coming from a village like this, my mom was enough lucky to have parents who encouraged her to go to the capital city Dhaka and study. But however, sher could not complete her graduation since she got married to my dad - a handsome medical student, then in his final years.
Now, this girl from this stark and dark village, with an infant in her arms and another 3 yr old holding her other hand, was getting ready to visit her husband. All by herself. And not by her so familar boat. But on an aeroplane. That too which had stoppage in between. And, she could not speak english. JUST IMAGINE!!!
But she could do it.
She took my brother in her arms, and me in her other hand, and with her small two piece of baggage, and went to the airport. She showed the tickets and entered the airport. But, everyhthing was not that smooth. Some aiport crew in between the proceedings, stopped her. They refused to hand over her passport back. They were giving her some filthy looks. Their language was abusive. And they demanded her to go back because her passport was not legal.
But she did not move from the place. I am sure she was fighting back her tears out of her helplessness. But, she too demanded back the reason. She could not speak proper English. She could just make them understand that she wanted to know the reason, or else she will go to other persons in the airport. And, at last, those rogues, could see that, this girl could not be overpowered, though she looked vulnerable, with two small kids and no male guardian.
So, we landed in Iran. We had a stoppage at Karachi in between, I suppose.
And then at Tehran airport - I could see my dad waiting anxiously for us. He was looking eagerly at us from behind the glass panes of the airport. I still remember the scene. It was midnight.
My ma must have then again hidden her tears of joy to have met with dad after so many days ... and that too the way she did.
HATS OFF TO HER - my ma.
