From the perspective of a middle-class Bangladeshi girl, Land has different meanings to me. When I hear it in English I start to think about my homeland, Bangladesh. I feel proud to belong to this land which is achieved by the sacrifice of 30 million people in 1971. My heart sings “O my golden Bangle, I love you.” Besides the translated form of ‘Land’ to bangle ‘Jomi’ brings a view of green paddy field in a tiny village of Chittagong. I see every drop of sweat is mixing with the soil when the farmer cultivates land which may not belong to him but still he loves it. The land full of food economically helps as father, provides meal every day like my mother, it hugs and carries me when I sleep and walk on it. The land is so much to me because once my father explained me that I got the identity of being Bangladeshi for it. On the other hand, the land is like an enemy to me because it takes away many people’s life. One of my uncles betrays his brother for a piece of land. I ask to the paddy field: Only for identity I do not need you land, I need peace. Please, land do not take away my brother, do not make any war. The land answers me: I never complain to you when you dig me, waste me. I always want to take care of you my child.

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Land has the power to give and take away. It is a cruel injustice that the land that provides so lovingly for you also divides your family. I hope that you will tell us more about your life in Chittagong and share with us your ideas, concerns and dreams. Welcome to PulseWire.

Hi Nipo,

I sense a deep connection between you, your country and the land that surrounds you. I love imagery you have created of sharing a conversation with the paddy field and asking the land for peace. This reminds me that the land will take care of us if we respect it, and if we respect one another in regards to its value and purpose. Thank you Nipo for sharing your own story of Land.

Warm regards, Jade

Hi

Thank you for the valuable comments. I am glad that you understand my feelings . When I was writing I thought nobody would understand what I was trying to say but now I am happy . I would love to share about my place Chittagong and also hear from you .

Thanks again.

Nipo

Nipo

When I hear the word land I start to think about a green paddy field in a tiny village of Chittagong in my country, Bangladesh. I see the drops of sweat that mix with the soil when a farmer cultivates the land. It does not belong to him, but still he loves it. The land is full of food and it helps my father financially. It provides my mother with meals for her children. It hugs and carries me when I sleep, when I walk. Once, my father explained to me that I am Bangladeshi because of the land I stand on. I feel proud of my homeland and my heart sings, “O my golden Bangle, I love you.” I ask of the paddy field: Please, I need peace! Please, Land, do not take away my brothers; do not give us war. The land answers me: I never complain to you when you dig me. I always want to take care of you, my child.

Thank You a lot..

Nipo