Every picture tells a story. But some, tell several.

This picture is 79 years old and it tells the story of three siblings – Paritosh, Prakriti and Sukriti. The lady with the kind face is their step-mother and the gentleman to the right is their father and every bit the patriarch. Not long after this picture was taken, the siblings got separated. The brother left to study medicine and eventually for England. The sisters got married, had families, took up knitting, crochet and cross-stitch.

Sukriti and her husband died young, leaving four children. Paritosh and Prakriti went on to live full lives, travelled extensively and left behind a lifetime of stories – stories that crossed borders, continents and faiths.
Seventy-five years on, all three siblings have a granddaughter each, here in England. Their journeys have come full circle.

All families have pictures and every picture tells a story. Some tell several. Tales of upheavals, travels and home – but not necessarily of homesickness. Stories not tinged with nostalgia or longing; but stories of belonging. Some four years ago, I started gathering such stories – a chronicle of our transnational lives. If you would like to share your story, I would love to hear from you.

This picture was given to me by Paritosh’s wife, my grandaunt, Beryl Dida. It is one of my most treasured possessions. It shows my grandmother, Prakriti in a fur collar and high heels standing with the slight slouch of a moody teenager.  Sukriti is the little girl in the long trench coat, tight plaits and lace socks. Paritosh’s granddaughter now has a brother. I have been tasked to teach them Bengali and stories of Calcutta – a city where our grandparents grew up.

Wiltshire, June 2020