My Bangladesh Journey: Beyond Conflict and Media Narratives

In the first week of December, amid the ongoing unrest, I embarked on a four-day journey to Bangladesh. The decision was driven by its proximity from Kolkata, India, where I was stationed, and my enduring love for exploring nature, diverse cultures, and the thrill of assessing mainstream narratives through my own eyes and experiences. As a former journalist with years of training and practice, I write this article with a commitment to objective, unbiased observations, offering insights shaped by my experiences during this journey.

As an Indian citizen, obtaining a Bangladeshi visa was straightforward. However, at the time of our visit, Bangladeshi citizens were not being issued Indian visas.

Crossing the land border into Bangladesh, we were subjected to secondary immigration checks, where several documents — birth certificates, matriculation certificates — were asked to be presented. Surprisingly, our Aadhar cards held no significance. We were cautioned about potential security risks, including the alarming possibility of passports being confiscated or burned amid ongoing unrest, where Hindus were reported as primary targets.  

In India, being Hindu often feels like a privilege. Yet, this sense of privilege evaporates the moment you step across a man-made border. It’s a humbling revelation, particularly for those who view humanity beyond the boundaries of religion, culture, and race.  

WATCH: A short video of my Bangladesh experience

Hindu labour community at a sweets factory in Khulna, Bangladesh.

The people we encountered in Bangladesh were warm, friendly, and genuinely hospitable. This kindness wasn’t confined to the affluent; it radiated from passengers in crowded local trains, shopkeepers, cobblers, public servants, and staff at modest public facilities. Language barriers dissolved in the warmth of their smiles. Whether greeted with "Salam," "Hare Krishna," or "Namaskar," they responded with equal sincerity, transcending religious divides.  

A local train ride from Benapole Border to Khulna in Bangladesh.

Businesses seemed to openly celebrate their faith, with representations of Hindu and Islamic symbols coexisting peacefully. Even streets in predominantly Muslim neighborhoods displayed banners of Hindu deities with respect. This cultural harmony was reflected in the three crore Hindus living in Bangladesh — equal to the population of Nepal.  

During a bus ride to Mongla Port near the Sundarbans, we met university students — a mix of Hindus and Muslims. Their camaraderie and shared living arrangements highlighted a peaceful coexistence that challenges narratives of division. They expressed frustration with how Indian media portrays their country, emphasizing, “We have no problem with any religion; the unrest is purely political.”  

It is no coincidence that, as an Indian citizen, every interaction with locals — whether intentional or not — touches upon the ongoing political unrest and Bangladesh-India tensions. Each person shares the same sentiment, tinged with sadness: "We, the citizens of Bangladesh, have no issues with any religion. Whatever is happening is purely political."

One evening, at a resort in the remote Sundarbans, we witnessed a cultural performance by Hindu men and women, celebrating unity through music. The audience, largely Bangladeshi, cheered a song about Hindu-Muslim harmony. The Muslim-owned resort hosting this event actively promotes cultural and responsible tourism, ensuring the performers are compensated and appreciated.  

Nearby, we met Yeamonul Islam, fondly called Emon, a social entrepreneur who runs the Iraboti Ecotourism Resort along the Pashur River. Emon and his wife, travel enthusiasts, cherish their trips to India and dream of future travels, though current visa restrictions cast uncertainty. Emon proudly shares his roots in Hyderabad, India, from where his great-grandfather migrated to Bangladesh. Over a cup of chai, we exchange a warm hug and engage in heartfelt conversations about the growing need for social entrepreneurship in countries like Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan.

Inside the school classroom at Iraboti Ecotourism Research Center, posters of Indian leaders, including Subhash Chandra Bose, Mahatma Gandhi, and Rabindranath Tagore, are proudly displayed.

In the Sundarbans' hinterlands, we were awed by the village communities’ innate hospitality. Local guides, though informally trained, displayed remarkable attention to detail and courtesy. Our boat ride through the mangroves, steered by a young local, was a serene experience, enhanced by his polite reminders to remain quiet to preserve the wildlife’s peace. We spent much of our day on the boats, surrounded by the mesmerizing hues of sunset skies. The serene backdrop was filled with chants from Hindu temples and prayers from mosques, a symphony that took me back to the harmonious days of my childhood in Jammu-Kashmir, before division and discord became the norm.

A boat ride inside the Sunderbans, Bangladesh.

In the countryside, Hindu-majority villages thrive, with families engaged in farming, fishing, and eco-tourism initiatives. Many of these families stayed through the partition, their resilience evident in their enduring connection to the land.  

On my last day, my heart is full. The hesitation and fear I brought with me — shaped by the conditioning of mainstream Indian media — has dissolved into a profound sense of love and brotherhood for our brothers and sisters divided by borders.

Across four regions and countless encounters, not once did we face hostility, despite our nationality and religion. The kindness we experienced challenges preconceived notions and serves as a poignant reminder of shared humanity.  

There’s much more to reflect on — socioeconomic realities, human struggles — but for now, I’ll leave this piece focused on a simple truth: the narratives we consume often fail to capture the warmth and brotherhood waiting to be discovered on the other side. 

READ: Our Bangladeshi host's narrative on the conflict.