Years later, a memory rekindled from a movie

By: Jenn Pamela Chowdhury (Brooklyn, USA)

Jenn Pamela Chowdhury’s parents. Photo courtesy of Jenn Pamela Chowdhury.

I grew up listening to stories about the Bangladesh Liberation War mostly from my father. Stories filled with pain, loss and trauma from losing close friends at Dhaka University. Stories about uncertainty: are we safe? Will we make it out alive?

This particular story was shared with me nearly a year ago in our living room. A friend recommended I watch Tauquir Ahmed’s Joyjatra (2004). Set during the Liberation War in 1971, the film focuses on the lives of several people attempting to flee from their villages to a safe area by boat. When I mentioned it to my parents, I discovered that most of the cast were their classmates or friends. As we watched the film together, I stopped to catch glimpses of Ammu’s and Abbu’s reaction to the film. I’ll never forget one scene specifically: several characters hid in a rice paddy for safety after hearing gunshots in their village — meaning the Pakistani army was close. It triggered a memory that was possibly hidden deep in their memory. “We experienced a similar situation,” Ammu shared with me.

“In May 1971, there was a rumor that an army ship was stationed near our village, on the Meghna River. They were armed. We were terrified, so we looked for a place to hide.” My father continued the story with tears in his eyes. “Your Ammu and I ran and ran, and eventually found a rice paddy field. We hid between the paddies with our relatives. There were no other options…with no forest nearby, the paddies provided the best protection for us. Your mom and I hid there all night, praying and hoping they would leave our village. The ship, along with the army, eventually left.” In the following weeks, my family members roamed from village to village to find safe places to hide. They witnessed a series of traumatic events from May to December. Many of their beloved professors and friends were among the pro-Liberation intellectuals who were executed during those months. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks.

Jenn Pamela Chowdhury’s parents. Photo courtesy of Jenn Pamela Chowdhury.

I asked them “Looking back, how did this experience impact you?” But I didn’t need an answer. It was clear to me they carried these fears and memories with them for decades. My parents were newly married and were hoping to start a new life together, one filled with children, love and laughter. Today, they’re happy grandparents. They watch CNN, browse through Facebook and FaceTime their family members. While they found ways to move forward, they never stopped looking back.