The summer of 2015, I was sitting with my grandmother in the hot scorching sun in Bangladesh, watching guys play cricket. There were mosquitoes flying everywhere and you could see the small lizards on our wall eating them. I looked at Grandma, my Dadu; she looked sad. I heard that as people get older, the expressions on their faces turn to show how they felt inside their whole lives. Had my grandmother been sad her whole life?

My grandmother was born into a Brahmin family, which is a member of the highest caste in the caste system among Hindus. She was one among seven siblings -- six were sisters, counting herself, and one brother. She was the third oldest among seven of them. Her parents were both hard workers. Her father was a priest and her mother was a housewife. She does not remember much about her parents since they passed away at such a young age, which makes her feel terrible. Her parents got her married around the age of 18. She married a man who was known as the best-looking man in town, and he also was a priest, just like her father. Her husband was the only child of his parents, so they cared for him a lot. So when they got my grandmother married to my grandpa, they cared for her a lot, too. Once she was settled into the family, my grandpa decided to move to a very calm town in Sylhet, where their future children could stay in peace. Back around when they got married, there were wars going on between Hindus and Muslims, which my grandpa decided to move from where they stayed. A few years later my grandma gave birth to their first-born child, Gauri Chakraborty. She was the first-born daughter in the family, and she brought happiness to them. Then, a few years later, my grandmother gave birth to another daughter, my mother, and then a couple years later she gave birth to a son, which brought even more happiness to the family. The house was filled with happiness. There were grand celebrations and grand rituals that were performed almost every day since lord had been helping the family a lot. But then all that changed around the year 1971, the Indo-Pakistan war.

The Indo-Pakistani War of 1971 had changed the way people were living in Bangladesh. The war was the direct military confrontation between India and Pakistan during the Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971. There were Muslim warriors who were searching to kill Hindus that were in Bangladesh. My grandfather was terrified, and so he took his whole family to a small village in Sylhet thinking that they all would be all right.

At first, they were. My uncle was only a year old and my grandmother was worried because, back where they lived, she had help from others, whereas now where they were hiding she only had her little sister with her. They barely had any food. Seeing the struggle that their children and the rest of the family were going through, my grandpa decided to dress up like a Muslim, go to town and bring necessary accessories to help feed the family. The war had officially started. He left my grandma, his children and his sister-in-law in a house in the village. He would always go out and say, "Don't worry, I will be back; after all, I am a priest, and lord is with me." My grandma would always be worried for him. Whenever she tried to sleep, she would hear the loud guns and people's screams, and she would be terrified. They had no cell phones back then, so she could not contact her husband. Whenever he would come back, he would tell the family how he saw some dead, some injured, blood everywhere, etc. and that would get my grandmother more terrified. She would always tell him not to go to town since it was hours away from where they lived. But he would not listen. In order to keep his family in good health, he would go to town every two to three days and bring back what he could to help the family. No one was really suspicious about him not being Muslim whenever he went to town. He practiced what someone may ask him to recite in front of them and would go on with life.

A few weeks passed by and the war got worse and worse. Then finally on December 16, 1971, the war ended. Many were happy, but many were sad since they had lost relatives in the war. My grandpa then took the family back home to town and they started living peacefully when suddenly a few months later, another event shook the whole family, especially my grandmother.

After the war, my grandpa took the whole family back to the town where they lived. For a couple of months they all were living in peace and my grandmother always prayed that everything went well. Then one day, her life changed. My grandfather had to go to someone's house to perform a puja, which is a ritual a priest goes to perform to the lord. He kissed his children and left. My grandmother found that strange because wherever, whenever or however, he went somewhere, he would always kiss her on the cheek and say that he would be back soon. But that day he only said bye to his children and forgot to say anything to my grandma as he was in a rush. It was raining that day as he was leaving the house.

Once he arrived at the person's house, he noticed that he had no one to go and get the betel leaves from the trees. So he decided to go by himself. He was having a difficult time getting leaves so he decided to climb the tree, as it was told by many people. He got on the tree, slipped, and hit his head on the ground. He was screaming in pain. Blood was coming out from behind his skull. People came running to him and took him to the hospital. He was unconscious for a long time. When he awoke, he asked if anyone had told my grandmother anything. They said no. "Good," he said. "I don't want her to worry about me."

While he was at the hospital, my grandmother was worried. Why was he not at home yet? Where was he? She was feeling so anxious and scared. Her oldest daughter asked her where their father was, but she had no answer. Then two days later, her brother-in-law, my grandfather's cousin, came and told my grandmother to go with him. Her heart started aching. She took the whole family with her to wherever he was taking her. Once they arrived at the place where her brother-in-law took her, she noticed how a human was covered with white cloth. She was stunned. She bent down and opened the cloth; it was her husband. She was shocked. Her husband had left her at such a young age, leaving three young children that she had to look after.

After performing all the rituals for her husband's death, she was not in the state to take care of her children. She did not have any money to send her two oldest children to school. Years and years passed as she hoped that she could find a way to get help. Sadly, nothing was done. She was hopeless, so she got her oldest daughter married at the age of 16 to a man who belonged to a rich family but a lower caste than them. She then got her second daughter married also to a man who was a lower caste than them as well. She somehow managed to send her son to school, where he started liking a girl, and also ended up getting married to a girl that was a lower caste than them.

My grandmother was upset that none of her children got married to a Brahmin, the same caste as her family, and that they didn't keep her husband's caste, but then she was happy. She was happy to have such loving and caring sons-in-law and a daughter-in-law. She has seven grandchildren who she hopes will be there for her as long as she lives. This is why my grandmother always has a sad face and can barely smile. One of my life goals is to bring a huge smile to my grandmother’s face and have her live a wonderful life. There are some family issues that are causing her not to be extremely happy, but I want her to know that I love her deep down and that I am always there for her. Sometimes I wish I had her with me in America right now, but sadly she’s in Bangladesh with her son and older daughter.