When my mother was my age

this is how I would imagine her to look. My mother does not have any photographs of herself as a young woman. Back when she lived in Bangladesh, cameras were seen as a luxury and there were plenty of rural superstitions thrown in for measure too. A big shame really, because it has meant that a huge part of my heritage is literally clouded in mystery. Only memories shared once in a while. Thats why I absolutely adore Mr Ts parents for their love of collecting things. From his mothers old school books, kitsch postcards to the wedding albums of his grandmother, all of it leaves me overwhelmed with gratitude. It also makes me appreciate how tough it must have been for my mother to leave her homeland.