I imagine walking into a room that I’ve walked into a hundred times before.I no longer recognize it.It’s as if someone has rearranged the furniture, and removed a few items in the process.I confuse time and space.I don’t remember important family events and even deny they happened.Familiarity is foggy and eventually loses loses its place altogether.I can’t remember what I did 15 minutes ago never mind yesterday.I can’t find my words, like I can’t find my slippers which I believe someone has stolen.Perhaps the same person or persons who have rearranged my furniture.It feels like someone is stealing everything from me - my thoughts, my words, my memory.It’s a cruel form of identity theft.And there is no way to get it back.A life erase
Thursday 21 September 2023
Joanne Filletti, September 13- October 1, 2023
Asma Sultana, July 19- August 6, 2023
Long Lost Lullabies
solo exhibit by Asma Sultana
In 1971 Bangladesh was a victim of war crimes perpetrated by an occupying foreign military and local collaborators. Systemically, women were brutally raped and impregnated; some were aborted, but many were born and adopted by foreigners. We forgot all the sacrifices to achieve a country and a flag for our identity. Our memories are confused by the politics, religion, and aggression of troubling historical discourses. Many Bangladeshis knowingly or unknowingly carry the wound of that unrecognized genocide; this is the time to revisit the forgotten history of our liberation war and the forgotten memories of the children of the war.
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