This picture is of a rose in bloom on my grandmother’s gardened terrace from 4-5 years ago. It doesn’t really represent the entire place because I remember a cousin saying that if he ever had heaven, he would wish for that terrace. Nanu had all sorts of trees up there; from mangos and lemons to chillis and medicinal. She had everything. The house was a two storey one that my Nana had built way back, before the ’71 liberation war, and had to face an ongoing lawsuit to keep his. After he died in 2012, it just wasn’t the same. To this day, my brother is angry at my uncles for allowing the house to be demolished in favour of the more modern apartment complexes. It was the only place he could call home, he said. When Nanu had to live over at my aunt’s because of her pregnancy, the terrace-top garden suffered from lack of care and died off. But the memories remain.
Yarnful of Stories 