বাড়ি কোথায়

In 2010, during the Venice Film Festival, I asked Rebecca where she was from. We first met in Italy and later crossed paths in Germany during the Berlin Film Festival. She was born in France and worked across the international film-festival circuit. My memory turned a question about origin into one about home. That turn belongs to this text. I use only her first name. ↩

In 2010, at the Venice Film Festival, I asked Rebecca where she was from. We had first met in Italy, then again in Germany during the Berlin Film Festival. She was born in France and was living across Europe, working the international film-festival circuit. My memory later turned a question about origin into one about home. That turn belongs to this text. I use only her first name. ↩

The title and recurring question come from Moushumi Bhowmik’s 2002 song “বাড়ি কোথায়?”. I had written about Bhowmik and Parapar on the Zicobaji blog on 7 June 2007, although that post considered the music more broadly. The song remained in memory and returned through this encounter. ↩

The title and the recurring question come from Moushumi Bhowmik’s 2002 song “বাড়ি কোথায়?”. I had written about Bhowmik and Parapar on the Zicobaji blog on 7 June 2007, though that post considered the music more broadly. The song stayed in memory and returned through this encounter. ↩

This is a 2026 rereading. The 2015 note did not foresee what followed. At the time, I was developing Cinema, City & Cats and still working at a local film school. The institutional rupture came in 2016. Afterward, I kept moving within Dhaka and between cities while my jobs, roles, and affiliations changed. Home now feels less like property or a fixed coordinate and more like a provisional sense of belonging, safety, or stillness. I am not using this fragmented memory to generalize migration or its histories. Cinema, a film school, and a cine club became points along the route, but none became home. The search remained after I stopped trying to solve it. ↩

This is a 2026 re-reading. The 2015 note did not foresee what followed. At the time I was developing Cinema, City & Cats and still working at a local film school; the institutional rupture came in 2016. Afterward I kept moving within Dhaka and between cities while my jobs, roles, and affiliations changed. Home now feels less like property or a fixed coordinate and more like a provisional sense of belonging, safety, or stillness. I am not using this fragmented memory to generalize migration or its histories. I am recording a narrower friction: a cinema, a film school, a cine club was a point on the route, not a home. The search remained after I stopped overthinking it. ↩