The bustling streets of Dhaka once felt like home to me. As a journalist working for an English daily published from the heart of Bangladesh, I found myself immersed in a world that was both familiar and foreign. The sights, sounds, and spirit of the city wrapped around me like a warm embrace, making me forget the thin line that separated it from my homeland.

I remember vividly the joy of shopping in Indian rupees, a small but significant reminder of the deep ties between our two nations. The markets were a vibrant tapestry of colors, sounds, and aromas, and I would often lose myself in the labyrinth of stalls, savoring the experience as much as the goods I purchased.

My stay at Hotel Sonar, Dhaka, remains etched in my memory. The elegance of the place, coupled with the warmth of Bangladeshi hospitality, made every moment there special. I can still taste the flavors of the Hilsha fish I devoured during late-night street food escapades, particularly during the inaugural Oman Air flight from Muscat to Dhaka. The streets, alive with energy even at those late hours, offered a culinary adventure that rivaled any five-star dining experience.

The empowerment of women in Bangladesh, especially in the aviation industry, left a profound impact on me. These were not just women; they were trailblazers, leading the way in a society where tradition and modernity often clashed. My interactions with them during various functions were both enlightening and inspiring, reinforcing my belief in the boundless potential of women, irrespective of religion or borders.

One of my most cherished memories is reaching the last post of India, where Bangladesh lay just at arm's length. Standing there, with only a thin line of demarcation between the two lands, I felt a deep connection to the soil, the people, and the shared history that had once united us as one. It was a poignant reminder of the arbitrary nature of borders and the enduring ties that bind us beyond them.

Bangladeshi food became my comfort, my solace, especially when traveling or staying abroad. After Indian cuisine, it was Bangladeshi food that I craved the most. The spices, the textures, the love infused in every dish resonated with my soul. I can still savor the taste of Bihari Biryani, a delicacy I often enjoyed during Bangladesh's Independence Day functions. The celebrations were a testament to the resilience and spirit of a people who had fought for their freedom, and I was honored to be a part of it, even as an outsider.

My time in Dhaka was marked by deep and lasting friendships. Foreign service officials, teachers, journalists, business people – they all became part of my extended family. We shared stories, meals, and laughter, forging bonds that transcended professional boundaries. These friendships were a source of strength and joy, making my time in Bangladesh unforgettable.

But as I look back, I am filled with a sense of loss. Politics, religion, and that thin line on the border have driven a wedge between our nations, eroding the camaraderie and friendship that once flourished. The simplicity of our connections has been overshadowed by the complexities of geopolitics, and the warmth of our shared history has been chilled by the cold winds of division.

Yet, amidst these memories of Dhaka, one encounter stands out – my meeting with Chief Justice Md. Muzammel Hossain of Bangladesh during an international law conference in Mumbai in 2013. It was a moment of profound significance, a convergence of two worlds bound by a shared commitment to justice. The picture from that day still hangs on my office wall, a testament to the respect and camaraderie that transcended borders and professions.

I pray for the return of those good old days, when people-to-people connections were stronger than political divides, and the bonds of friendship were unbreakable. Dhaka will always hold a special place in my heart, not just as a city, but as a symbol of a time when we were not just neighbors, but family.