Biography 228: My uncle Salahuddin Moni

 We used to call my mom's older brother "Boro mama" (elder uncle). He had a nickname, "Moni" (a rare stone, the black dot of the eye, or something special). When he was born, people of that area used to call him "Moni" as he was very adorable and the first son of my grandfather (maternal). Later, it became his name. His full name was "Salahuddin Moni." He was a freedom fighter for Bangladesh.

I remember him mostly from my childhood memories. When he was living in Singapore. We four sisters used to write him letters. What we want to inform him and whatever we want him to bring with him. Because, in every letter, he asked us what you want me to bring for you guys.

When he came, he brought two small dresses for my older sister and me. But we were grown up, so finally those two dresses went to my two little sisters. He also brought a stainless steel plate. I got that. Till before, I came to Canada, I used to take meals on it. When I told this story to my son, he replied, "Why didn't you bring that plate with you?"

I think he brought another similar plate, which he gave to his mom or wife. He also brought a toy, a police car, which has colourful lights at the top and runs on batteries by making siren sounds. It was for his younger son, Mehedi.

Today, he left us. I pray to Allah to give him Jannat and make his journey painless.

Biography 185: My first tour to Cox's Bazaar (Uncle's home)

 My uncle rented a house in a village near Cox's Bazar City. From the bus, we took rickshaws to that house. From the main road, we went inside the village on a narrow road. We passed a village market also on our way. Then we stopped at a place. Then we had to walk through a jungle (it looks like) for a few minutes to reach the house. It was a one-storied concert house, but the roof was made of tin shed. There were little open spaces at the front and a backyard too. Later my cousin drew a selfie on the soil of that front open space. I didn't have a camera or cell phone to capture it. The doors and windows were made of wood.

I am trying to explain in detail the house because I liked it. After reaching home, was walking around and talking with my uncle's two tiny sons, Tonoy and Tonmoy. My aunt became very busy preparing food for these unannounced guests. But she seems kind of used to this situation. My uncle bought some mattresses for the guests.

My uncle was really surprised by me. He said the way you were throwing out, I thought you would lay down on the bed.

Later, when we returned to Dhaka, my brothers sat in another place, not beside me ;). They scared. Though I became an expert in handling myself on the bus so things didn't get nasty.

Here I met with Tomony and Tonmoy's teacher. She had a great personality. Everybody liked her because of her sweet and helpful behaviour. She was a student too. After the exam, she got some time to do tuition for the kids.

She took me to her friend's house. I felt really difficult for their conservation. Chittagong and Cox's Bazar has different language accents, which is difficult or impossible to understand in the other part of Bangladesh. In this house, they gave me local fruits that were very delicious. I told them I couldn't understand their language, so they started speaking in front of me on some topic which they might not want me to know. I actually understood some of it and guessed the rest of the conversation. No, I didn't reveal those to anybody.

From this house tutor, I have learned how to tell a story. She tells every single detail in a way that everybody will stop doing their work and listen to her. I was amazed. Later, when I used to describe storied in college, my classmates said, we like how you tell us the story. All credit goes to my cousin's teacher, whom I never met again.