Four Rivers of My Childhood

Junaidul Haque

Original: Serajul Islam Choudhury 

Translation: Junaidul Haque

My childhood began on the bank of the Padma in the city of Rajshahi. Rajshahi was then a confined city – the heat was too much. It was before the partition. During our childhood, the Padma was the life of Rajshahi. The whole city went towards the Padma in the afternoon. They watched the big, vast Padma. Every day they went to see her. Even during the dry season, the Padma was very lively. People of various types roamed around the bank of the Padma, sat, gossiped. The whole bank was an attraction to us – we walked there, played with friends. We went to have an airing.

The government employees of Rajshahi city resided on the bank of the Padma. Staying there, we found the Padma in another way during the rainy season. During that time, the Padma got bigger; its current put the Rajshahi city in danger. To control this flow, there were sluice gates in different places of the city. They would be opened during the rainy season. At that time, there were many canals in Rajshahi city. When the sluice gates were opened, Padma water would enter the city through these canals. We resided in the Hetem Khan area of Rajshahi. Our residence was beside the canal there. During the rainy season, we felt that the Padma had come near us. We saw water through the window, floated paper boats. The curved bark of a banana cone would serve as a boat; we would put a light on it and float it. Like this, the Padma was our playmate in various ways during our childhood.

We left the Padma behind by the end of 1946. My father was transferred to Kolkata, we went with him. We got the Ganges in Kolkata. We lived in Khidirpur, an area near the Ganges. The Khidirpur dock was near. Various ships would come here for repair. Maybe, for this reason, we didn’t get the Ganges like the Padma. The tumult of the dock area made the Ganges dense. The bank of the Ganges was also a little far from our house. Even then, we walked on the bank whenever we had time. As a result, we missed the Padma less.

After partition in 1947, we started towards Dhaka from Kolkata. Because of father’s job. Again a journey towards the Padma. We are from Bikrampur – after leaving Kolkata, we were first going to our village home. For the time being, we shall stay there. Before going home, a few days in our maternal grandfather’s house in Bhagyakul. At night we boarded the steamer in Goalondo for Bhagyakul – my first journey by steamer. The journey of two or three hours was thrilling. Not because it was my first ride by a steamer but because the country was getting independence. The feeling of independence was very effective. I was an eleven-year-old boy in 1947 – loitering around the deck of the steamer, watching the passengers’ restlessness, looking at boats, seeing darkness-light-searchlight. Feeling a new inspiration – of independence. Even the Padma looked like a sea to me this time; it was as if a river of probabilities. Through an uncertain condition, we were certainly advancing towards independence. 

On the bank of the Padma of Bhagyakul, we stayed for a few weeks. There we travelled by boat on the Padma – lovely breeze there. We floated by boat and watched catching of hilsha fishes, brought hilsha, listened to gramophone records. Even on August 14, on the day of independence, we went to the bank of the Padma. Standing in the Bhagyakul steamer ghat, we looked at the river. Steamers coming from Goalondo – decorated with Pakistani flags, flags of Pakistan fluttering in the front. Passengers, standing on the deck, giving slogans in the name of Allah, we replying with the same slogans from the bank. As if a festival all along the river.

We went to Mymensingh due to father’s job. The old Brahmaputra runs beside that town. The Brahmaputra then was not like the present – it had life. Like the Padma, the Brahmaputra bank was also our place of entertainment. School friends forming a group would walk by the river. All meetings of Mymensingh, political and non-political, would be held on the Brahmaputra’s bank. As if the Mymensingh town revolved around the river as the center.

Coming to Dhaka, we got the Buriganga. Buriganga is my own river. We went home, crossing the Buriganga and the Ichhamoti. In Sadarghat, there were launches and boats – we went home through these rivers. After coming to Dhaka, Sadarghat of Buriganga became our place of walking and spending time. Our St. Gregory’s High School was in Sadarghat. I even went to St. Gregory’s College. We went to visit Sadarghat after school and on Sunday, the holiday. Even to meet friends, we would ask them to come to Sadarghat. Sadarghat was Dhaka’s heart – book shops, sweetmeat shops, travelling, entertainment, everything in Sadarghat. Even in 1971, we crossed the Buriganga many times.

The greatest sorrow of my life is the dying condition of the Buriganga. During our time, Buriganga was neither an old woman nor half-dead. Buriganga was full of life. That lively river became lifeless right in front of our eyes. I don’t get to see the other rivers of my boyhood. I see Buriganga. On seeing her, I feel like crying. With Buriganga, my boyhood, as if, also vanished. Whenever I think of the matter, I feel very bad.

I feel that a significant declining aspect of development is that we have destroyed the river. This loss of the river in development is symbolic. The river is our heart. Development has hit our heart. When I think of the river, I feel that we are big in body but our heart has become weak.