Mila's Story: Across Borders, Across Time

Listen to some of the musical favorites of Mila and her friends here:

That world that Mila speaks of no longer exists. Dhaka has changed, Mila says. More people, more heat. She describes the quality of life she experienced as a young girl. ”There was less pollution, fewer cars too.” But it isn’t just the physical changes. Her sister, the one who “loved me like a mom,” is gone. Her mother, too. Her father lives in Bangladesh, but “I don’t really have anyone left now.” Despite these losses, Mila emphasizes, “I wish I had gotten married in Bangladesh and stayed there.” Clearly, there is something between all immigrants and the great desire to return home.

 Frequent traffic jams occur in Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh. 

While Mila continues to nurture her deep love of close connections, she is wary of the Bangladeshi diaspora within Brooklyn. While most immigrants flock to a place filled with familiar faces, Mila recognizes neighborhoods like Kensington and Jackson Heights as a weak portrait of the homeland she had left behind. In similar conversations over the years, Mila remembers her sister, the life she left behind. Like Nazneen, Mila has spent countless years wondering where all the time went. Ali phrases this in a simple yet effective manner: “But it was two o'clock in the morning and she ate alone, standing up against the sink, watching the moon and wondering if she would ever eat a meal with her sister again” (Ali, 368-369). A devastating feeling, to lose one’s sibling. It has been said by those who have that losing a sibling is like losing a limb—it simply won’t grow back. 

Her words remind me of the protagonist from “Brick Lane,” By Monica Ali, Nazneen, who holds onto her sister Hasina across borders and decades, even as their lives drift apart. “I only have one sister,” Nazneen says. Mila echoes a similar sentiment in the everlasting love she has for her sister. Like Nazneen, Mila watches the past from a distance, unable to return to it, but unwilling to let it go. Her story of loss and aching is both devastating and inspiring. 

 Left: The famous Brick Lane neighborhood is located in London and is the main setting for the novel “Brick Lane” by Monica Ali. Right: A movie adaptation of the novel from 2007. 

To reconcile these missing connections, Mila has found new systems of support: her friends. Connecting them are their children who attend the same schools, live in the same buildings, and have chance meetings in their South Brooklyn neighborhood. And through these meetings, something strong was born: a chosen sisterhood. “I really like it a lot,” she says of their bond, a quiet happiness in her voice. When standing at a wedding altar, two people promise each other their eternal partnership, the lasting words “in sickness and in health.” But isn’t friendship—true female companionship— the highest form of love? Saira, Aziza, and Sajni uplift and surround one another in a cocoon of support and understanding. 

In “Brick Lane”, we witness this form of connection as Razia knocks on Nazneen’s door with medicine and care. “Sister, it’s just me, I've brought medicine for you,” she says (Ali, 67). This is a story that Mila and her friends can attest to as reverberating their own friendship; knocking on each other's doors to check in on one another. Bringing sweets, sharing groceries, and lending clothes. This is the ultimate immigrant experience. This powerful connection, not born of blood but of shared struggle and shared womanhood, is something that transcends the immigrant experience itself and crosses into a connection that cuts across borders and oceans.