I was 6 years old when my whole world crumbled down as a result of a serious car accident. I nearly lost my arm but, fortunately, a year of hospital treatment rescued it. Even though my arm was saved, the accident left a big, ugly scar that drew everyone’s attention: people would look at me with pity, and other children shunned my company out of fear or repulsion. It became impossible for me to form friendships or close bonds. I would hide in the corners, away from other people… As a consequence, I found comfort in sitting with a pencil and paper, drawing anything that would come to my mind. Drawing became an addiction for me, as it brought me peace and solace. From this young age, I remained a loner. In my early 20s, then, I met the person who would become my future husband, who was also involved in the arts. I thought he understood me but, unfortunately, after marriage, it became apparent that I remained a victim of my childhood scar. We divorced. And, again, I kept on drawing to maintain my sanity.
Although the scar brought me social ostracism, through my drawing practice, it also opened for me a world of creativity, contentment and balance. Up to these days, I know that most Bangladeshi people haven’t changed their attitude towards my scar, but I have learnt to ignore it as my art and creativity have given me the tools to build a different world for myself – a world of hope and bliss.
