I was born in Bangladesh and brought up in the UK. I have lived and worked in Tower Hamlets most of my life. My background has provided me with a deep appreciation of the rich heritage of the multicultural borough where I live and its ties with South Asia. I enjoy and apply the tool of art and creativity to explore, express and share to make our world a better place.
I love using my imagination, a gift from God, to engage with the complex reality of my life. This project has allowed me to infuse my imagination with my life’s experience to create two short stories that I felt passionate about.
It was an amazing two years of a roller-coaster journey. At times, I felt very emotional as I have acquired insights into various human stories that took place during the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries, during which the East India Company operated. Many People have heard about the East India Company, but lack knowledge and understanding of how the company’s existence in India, Bengal and indeed around the world, had major impacts on the lives of many people, both British and Asians.
‘ “Shhh!” whispered Raja with a frown, lifting his index finger to his lips.
“We don’t want ama to hear us.” He glanced around with wide eyes.
“Or anyone else for that matter,” Shahid said in a hushed voice. He sat up with force.
“Yes, we need to be ca…careful, there are eyes and ears everywhere nowadays. The locals are easily pl…pl…pleased with the trivial profit they will make from re…re…reporting any runaways,” said Jyoti in a hushed voice.
“Only last week a little girl was caught and taken back. What else were we to do? You worked in the plantation yourself, Jyoti bhai. You know how those wicked plantation managers and their chowkidars treat the poor coolies. Not only have they illegally bribed them into these horrendous jobs, they have also taken their freedom away, treating them like slaves,” said Shahid. ’
‘Ali let out a loud scream. Amanda resisted the urge to press the stop button. Ali’s body involuntarily jerked frantically before he slowly relapsed back into unconsciousness. Elliot and Amanda gawked through the screen at the projector slate, which began to play the sequence of events that took place in the life of Sirajuddaula. Ali was now reliving the life of his ancestor.’
B r i c k L a n e C i r c l e
I have written two short stories. The first one was about two brothers who were abducted by a tea plantation owner and how they escaped from the plantation to avenge their father’s murder. The second story is a sci-fi and about how the protagonist discovers that his DNA can be traced back to his famous ancestor Nawab Sirajuddaula, and how the Doctor that he went to meet wanted to exploit the new science to extract information about his famous ancestor through a new machine called Memoroid.