Only Writing Helped Me Get Through It: A Literacy Narrative

BY EMDADUL HASSAN

On January 6, 2014, my beloved son was born in New York, USA, while I was in Dhaka, Bangladesh. In other words, the opposite part of the earth. I want to express my most painful moment and how I healed myself through writing: the night my son was born, I wrote myself a letter. Later on, I showed it to my wife.

My wife Nawsheen is an American citizen. We have dated since 2006. Along with her family, she moved here from Bangladesh in the year 2009, after which we had a long-distance relationship until 2012. We grew together in every sense of mind, every single day. We composed so many dreams for ourselves in those years that would only be fulfilled when we would be together again, forever.

Our family set the wedding date in December 2012. It was grander than we were thinking of, and with the blessing of parents and relatives, we stepped into a new life together. A week later, Nawsheen left Dhaka to take her exam to become a public school assistant, promising me that she would return after two weeks. When she reached New York, I got the biggest news of my life: we were going to be parents soon. The most wonderful news I’d ever heard! I applied for a travel visa but the US Embassy declined my application, because my wife had already applied as an Immigrant. I can clearly remember the moment that, from the other side of the mirror at the embassy, they told me, “Wait for your call, you are already in the process.” I tried to convince them: “I want to see my newborn.” An emotionless officer replied, “If we give you a travel visa now, you will not come back.”

I started breaking down, thinking: The day my son is born will not going to be a happy day for me. What am I going to miss? The most precious moment of my life! I cannot be there with my wife to hold her hand, to support her, we can’t adore our first child together. There are no such souls that can console me.

Only writing helped me get through it. Writing has carried me through an ongoing healing process. It has also given me a strong vision of how writing and sharing our stories heals us. Writing our story is the first step towards facing those parts of ourselves that I would rather leave buried, and sharing my writing with Nawsheen helped connect us during those years.

After the embassy interview, I was so upset. There was nobody who could console me, because I would not listen. The sadness was just like a dark cloud in the sky before the dangerous storm. It’s been proved so many times in centuries past that creative people and introverted people can experience deep depression, and I am one of them. Yet I feel very comfortable writing to share with others.

The situation at that time was the most difficult part of my life. As a creative professional, I experienced a big block. I was not able to create anything or I explain what I created for work; I did not like it. Sleepless nights and crazy office hours 107 were my daily routine. On the other hand, Nawsheen finished her associate degree and planned to attend Brooklyn College to complete a 4 year bachelor’s degree. The pregnancy changed her too. The doctors’ appointments made her busy. The doctor advised her not to take long flights because she was not in a good situation, although it was our first baby. I told her to come back to stay in Dhaka, thinking it was for the best. Her mood swung very fast in those days; we had arguments about such little things and started blaming each other.

I wrote a lot during those days. I believed one day, those writings would make her very happy. The day my son was born, there was a rainy day in Dhaka and a snowstorm in New York. My father-in-law took her for the last two days but the hospital would not admit her, saying that she had more time. The night our baby was born, New York was covered with six to eight inches of snow everywhere. I was praying for Salah and asking for help from Almighty ALLAH. While sitting on the prayer mat, I got the good news. I talked to my lovely beloved, trying to show her I was very strong for her. After the conversation, I just broke down in tears. My mother took me on her lap and supported me. Since I could not really express much to my mother, I decided to write.

I remember writing 38 pages that night. I recollected all the memories of my life with Nawsheen. Some I wrote in a lot of detail, and some I wrote down quickly. These pages had beautiful moments of our life where I wrote about some of our struggles; I also wrote about our arguments and fights. I tried to compose a summary of our relationship from the beginning.

Despite a distance of 13654 km from Dhaka to New York, we always shared a very healthy relationship. I clearly remember the date of September 23, 2009, when I saw Nawsheen for the last time at Dhaka International Airport along with her family. They were leaving Dhaka at that time, to settle in New York forever. I rushed that day from the office to the Airport. She was crying, and we don’t know how to separate. In that phase of life, we both had very different, new lives. She joined City Tech to pursue a degree in accounting while I was doing my internship, though I was in my last semester. Everything changed from that time for us, just like day changes to night. At that time, I used to tell her I was one day ahead of her because the Sun traveled over her first.

Yet it was not always a fairy tale, even back then. We had some stupid fights at that time and I am going to blame myself for that. She was trying to set her foot on a new land about which she had no idea. She worked hard to understand the format of study over here in New York. Worse, our times never matched, since it’s a distance of day and night from southeast Asia to North America. Now I understand what she felt at that time. After some arguments in a short period, we planned everything better, and we set a particular time to communicate with each other.

I encouraged her to work hard studying, and she told me to focus on my career and paintings. I was good at my job, but the sad part is that I did not finish my last semester in Dhaka, because my office promoted me as a permanent employee. I had one solo painting exhibition and three group exhibitions. At the same time, she pursued her associate degree at City Tech, while I switched to a leading corporate house, where they appointed me as Senior Visualizer of their Brand Communications Department. After two years, I was in charge of the creative team. In the meantime, Nawsheen and I started planning for our wedding: saving money, shopping, renting lighting and decorations, and hiring a photographer, and videographer for the wedding. We planned everything together for such a long time that the wedding was so perfect, just like a perfect photo. Everybody around us was so happy for us. We planned to go on a honeymoon when she came back from NYC.

The little details, long details, awful moments, beautiful moments, funny moments kept me writing for the whole night. I rejoiced in these moments again.

I remember the moment when we went to the Botanical Garden for our pre-wedding photoshoot with five renowned photographers of our city. I woke up very early in the morning; then, one by one, I picked up all my photographers from different locations and bought the famous old Dhaka breakfast for all of them. When I reached Nawsheen’s place, it was around 7 am in the morning. It was a wonderful sunny day at the beginning of winter, with a little breeze and fog everywhere, and a little sunlight from the sky sometimes on her cheek. We just walked and enjoyed our moment. Our concept was that we were not going to pose for photos, but be natural. The photographers did an excellent job. Later on, we displayed those photographs at our reception event.

After the wedding, we were very excited to enjoy our first Valentine’s day together. Unfortunately, I had to go to the office that day. We set our Valentine’s dinner, but I made the mistake on that day that I did not believe I had to book a table while she insisted I book it twice. So, when we reached the place, I felt so badly the whole restaurant was full. We had to wait 30 minutes to get an ugly location to sit. I felt so bad so I tried to make her happy. After the dinner, we went to the ice cream parlor.

Another day I remember: after the morning prayer at 5:25 am, I asked her to go on a breakfast date. I told her she needed to see a calm and quiet Dhaka, though my city is the most densely populated in the country. I was so happy she agreed. What a beautiful moment that was!

The night was disappearing and the sky becoming brighter as I wrote these things down on paper.

Our birthday bash was excellent; we share almost the same birthday. I’m April 5 and she’s April 6. For the first time, we celebrated our birthday together. My mother-in-law brought a birthday cake for us, and we cut the same cake. The moment she had to run off for her exam I have no thought that she is not coming back. I am smiling even though I didn’t remember whether I saw her off that day …

While I was writing, I had no idea what I was doing. It’s like I was recapping my whole life on paper. I felt like I was living those moments again, starting with the moment when we saw each other for the first time in a shopping complex. Before that, we had dated blindly having a phone conversation and internet chat. I cannot forget that moment; I felt like flying that day. However, it made me sad when I was writing about the day she left for the USA.

After having a long session of writing, I laughed out loud. I understood life is beautiful because we have to struggle to own it. I understand that, with writing, I was walking through memory lane to see so many things that happened. There are so many achievements Nawsheen and I have in our life. We support each other in every step of life. Happiness and sorrow are just like day and night: when you feel the night is very deep and dark, that means the morning is so close. Not everything can go as we want. We can be conscious, but everything is not in our control. Still, you can plan for something better and ask for refuge from almighty ALLAH.

There is a very strong thing in our life called fate. As Muslims, we know that, when all the sons & daughters of Adam came into this world, our destiny was already decided and hung just like a locket. Indeed, ALLAH is the best planner.