Where Blue Birds Fly
When I was little, I used to go to the rooftop the most. Back then people were more attached to it. Having grown up in a joint family, I had many cousins. We had our secret place, where we used to play hide and seek. My uncle would make kites for us to fly, when there were no kites, we would still fly poly bags tying with a thin rope. Most of the time we stayed there playing, sometimes climbing the little guava tree, planted by my father.
At the times of power cuts, the whole area would scream with joy, we would bunk the studies and meet in the rooftop. Time for some singing, stories of ghosts or just counting stars.
I started photographing different rooftops in Dhaka city with the hope of getting back to my childhood. But I realized that every rooftop has it’s own story, own corner, traces of life. It’s a place where you can be alone. A place just in between the comfort of home and chaos of the city. A place where you can just be.
The face of the city changed quite a lot in the last few years, to feed the demand of the growing population, the buildings started to touch the sky even more, people got busier to afford this apartments, no one has a moment to spare. But till this day, if I see a little kid flying kites I would go back to my childhood, where every evening the blue birds retuned to their favourite place.