Bridging The Divide

Rediscovering The Voice

Arif begins his travel of self-discovery by looking back at his past. He searched for the setting that moulded his personality, trusting it would offer assistance to him in resolving his current circumstances. He filtered through ancient family photos, tuned in to his father's stories around the British running the show, and perused books about India's battle for autonomy.

While exploring the closet one evening, he found a collection of his father's old letters. They were composed in fluent English, with each word carefully chosen to reveal his father's internal thoughts and battles. As he considered the letters, he realized that his father had gone up against challenges comparable to him. These letters painted a picture of a man torn between his vitality for the English tongue and his need to ensure his legacy.

Arif's father was a brilliant and enthusiastic person who worked hard to educate others and build bridges between citizens and non-citizens. But in these letters, he found an inner fight that Arif apparently never understands. In one of the first letters Arif found, his father expressed:

"The English lingo is both favourable and critical to us. It opens up the world, but at the same time, it removes us from our roots. We must learn to look at this issue and find a solution."

These words resounded in Arif's mind, which made him fold back the letter. The history of it engulfed him like an immovable cover.

When their family lived in a gigantic space, an update of colonial control. His grandmother, a strong woman who used to talk about the bygone days. She was reserved, as Bengali women are, but her stories were filled with both insightfulness and torment, portraying the brilliance of the past year and the seriousness of the post-colonial world. She regularly said,

"The arrival may be gone, but we carry the soul of our forerunners."

Arif considered his circumstances as he reflected on these words. Was he able to be freed from the burden of his forerunners or not? With this present-day data, Arif felt a more significant affiliation with his father and a more conspicuous understanding of his genetic shadows.
He realized that his fight was not an isolated one but a small fraction of a greater account of post-colonial identity.

Moved by his father's letters, Arif chose to explore Chattogram with fresh eyes. He went to bona fide regions, antiquated colonial buildings, and bustling markets, splashing himself with the energetic culture of the city.

One day, while meandering the contract lanes of the ancient town, he stumbled upon a little bookstore settled between two huge stores. The proprietor, a kind older adult with shining eyes and a warm grin, was one of his uncles on his mother’s side and treated him gently.

"Welcome, boy. Searching for something extraordinary?"
He enquired in a warm voice.

Arif paused for a moment, feeling the weight of his instability.

"I'm not, beyond any doubt,"

he conceded, his voice scarcely over a whisper.

"You're looking for motivation,"

His uncle answered playfully, a knowing grin spreading over his countenance.

"Motivation can be found everywhere if you know where to look."

"Poetry."

Arif said, his voice filled with questions.

"But I've been struggling as of late. I feel like I'm caught between two worlds."

Recognizing the common battle, the old man gestured.

“The rebellion of the subaltern craftsman. You're not alone in this fight. I remember your father confronting the same battle."