**NOTE BEFORE YOU READ ** : Cox's Bazar in Bangladesh is the largest beach town in the worl
Also note that the Liberation War of 1971 mentioned was between the East Pakistanis (present day Bangladesh) and the ruthless conquerors West Pakistanis (present day Pakistan)
We chose the quietest beach in Cox's Bazar.
There was only one cottage - right by the Bay of Bengal. The beach was known as "The Old Witch," and was considered haunted. A beach - haunted? Haha.
The manager of the cottage, who lived a bit farther from the "haunted" area, showed us the place and made my parents sign some papers.
As I was getting into the cabin, I noticed her.
She was sitting there, looking onto the sea. The sun would set soon. This time of day was perfect for a swim. However, the woman seemed oblivious to all this.
"Who is that?" I asked the manager.
The man looked back curiously. But seeing who I meant he turned back, uninterested.
"Never mind her," he said as we entered the cottage.
I was not allowed to swim that evening. We freshened and watched the sunset. The manager brought us dinner. Every time I'd look out the window, I'd see her.
I woke up excited, ate quickly and ran towards the sea, my feet making heavy prints in the sand. As I was about to plunge into the water, I noticed the woman.
For the first time I saw her face. Her face was wrinkled as if she was well over ninety. I went closer.
"I told you, I will NOT go away," she said, her shaken voice suddenly making me jump.
"Huh?"
"Oh. Just a tourist."
"Um..."
"What do you want with me? Go play."
"If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" she laughed in her broken voice. "Have you not heard the local stories? Why they call this place "The Old Witch?"
"No."
"You see, I am the Old Witch.
"You don't seem like a witch," I said, surprised.
"Hmm," the woman said. "I have been sitting in this very spot for thirty-nine years."
"Why?"
"It's a very dull story," she said.
"Please..." I almost pleaded.
"Alright," she smiled. "It's nice to have someone interested. Most of them run away when they see me."
I sat down beside her.
"I have that day clear in my mind," she began. "November 12th, 1970. You do know what happened that day?"
"No," I said, guiltily.
"Okay, I didn't expect you to," she said. "It was the day of the deadliest cyclone in the world - right here, in the Bay of Bengal."
"Really?"
"Yes," she said. "My son, then eighteen, had always wanted to join the Navy. His father had died the previous year, and I was not going to let my only companion go off that easily."
She heaved a deep, mournful sigh.
"But he showed me the point," she said. "He told me how the West Pakistanis would declare war any moment, and how a strong Navy could have been a way to defeat them."
She paused again.
"The idea of my son freeing this country overwhelmed me," she said in a low voice. "And so I gave him the permission. And on THAT very night. The 12th of November."
"Oh no."
"Oh YES...how I regret that day," she wept. "The cyclone had to cross the sea that very night, when my little boy was in his ship, with all his friends., promising he would be back..."
Her eyes were more wet than the sea.
"I have been sitting here since the minute he went on board."
"The storm passed me," she said "It didn't have its effects on me. I was praying for my boy to be safe. He would not break his promise right?"
I was crying myself.
"Years passed. I saw the Liberation War with my own eyes. I always hoped I would hear the news of the Navy's triumphs...but I never did," she said, her voice shakier than ever. "I lost my eyesight twenty years ago. But so what? I can see him better now...in my mind."
She was blind?
"The people here sometimes bring me food. But most of the time I hardly eat."
I could not move from my place.
"How do you survive?" I asked.
"That's easy - I survive...on hope."
) was in WWII, and my Nana probably thought of him everyday!
