During Ramadan, my mother observed fasting, as did the rest of our family. One evening, after we had completed our Iftar dinner, my mother got up from the table and suddenly collapsed. She became unconscious.
At that time, there was no doctor nearby, no hospital in our area, and very limited transportation. It was also during the flooding season, which made transportation extremely difficult.
After Iftar, the men in our family had gone to the nearby mosque for prayer. When we learned that my mother had collapsed, we immediately ran back home. Despite our efforts, there was nothing we could do for her because there was no immediate medical assistance available.
The following morning, a doctor came from Kaliganj and examined my mother. He told us that she had suffered a stroke and urgently needed to be taken to a hospital.
A car eventually came from Dhaka, but because of the condition of the roads and flooding, it could only reach approximately two miles from our home. We had no choice but to carry my mother from our house toward the river, much like the way a deceased person would traditionally be carried for burial, so that we could reach a boat and eventually the vehicle waiting for us.
We then traveled toward Dhaka in the hope that medical treatment could save her.
Sadly, by the time we reached the hospital, it was too late. The doctors pronounced my mother dead.
That experience has remained with me throughout my entire life.