Border That Bleeds: Lines drawn in blood

Felani Khatun, Khalilur Rahman, Dukhu Mia, Jayanta Das, Swarna Das, Bipul Hossain, Kamal Hossain, Saidul Islam, Anowar Hossain—their names, and countless others, haunt the border between Bangladesh and India, silenced forever. 

Their so-called "crime"? Being near a line drawn on a map. 

Some tried to cross it, others exchanged goods, and some were simply present. For this, they were met with death. These actions, though deemed illegal, should never carry a punishment so brutal, so final. A human life cannot—must not—be reduced to a mere target at the border.

Photojournalist Parvez Ahmed Rony, hailing from Sylhet near the border, grew up surrounded by tales of border tragedies. As he matured, he began to see the stark contrast between these stories and how the media often portrayed them. 

Since 2012, he has dedicated himself to capturing the harsh realities of life near the border through his lens. For over 12 years, he has documented these poignant stories, a glimpse of which was powerfully showcased in his exhibition at Shahbuddin Park.

The 'Border That Bleeds' exhibition at Gulshan's Justice Shahbuddin Park concluded its three-day run on 9 January. The exhibit featured a tragic series of photographs displayed along a park corner. It captured the attention of visitors, joggers, and passersby, compelling them to pause and reflect on the stories of lives lost, etched in the images.

"Being based in Dhaka, I depend on informants from various parts of the country. Whenever I hear about such incidents, I make my way to the area to document them," Rony said.

"But the media's focus has stayed the same over the years. With both Bangladesh's media and editorial policies rooted in Dhaka, how much priority is really given to a killing in a small town far from the capital?", asked Rony.

Rony feels that such incidents seldom find their way into newspapers or television broadcasts. He believes the narratives are often influenced by local media or India's BSF, who depict the victims as smugglers trading goods or cattle before their deaths.

"On 7 January, as we mourned 11 years since Felani Khatun's tragic death, another life was taken in Habiganj," he noted. "India was aware we were observing her death anniversary, yet this extrajudicial killing still happened.".

The border between Bangladesh and India is largely connected to West Bengal, where the same language is spoken, though with slight variations in dialects and accents. Before the partition, it was one nation, and many people had relatives on both sides. 

Despite the separation, the border often fails to keep them apart. Photojournalist Rony has visited areas where, on certain days of the year, people from both sides reunite and celebrate together. He views this as a deeply human moment and believes that when the BSF shows flexibility, it brings benefits to the people.

"Human relationships can't be contained by barbed wire; they are far too resilient," Rony remarked. "When people are separated from their loved ones, they take desperate risks, often paying with their lives."

He criticised the rigidity of the BSF, questioning, "Why would someone travel 200 kilometers to reach a place less than five kilometers away?" He highlighted how border policies force families living nearby to endure lengthy visa processes, costly travel, and time-consuming detours—barriers many cannot afford, financially or otherwise, to reunite with loved ones.

"Human relationships can't be contained by barbed wire; they are far too resilient. When people are separated from their loved ones, they take desperate risks, often paying with their lives."

Photojournalist Parvez Ahmed Rony

This exhibition serves as a call to action for policymakers to ease the strict laws that separate families and relatives. It aims to create a framework that allows visits without complications, as people wish to visit these places but have no intention of staying there. 

Over time, Rony's perspective on the border dividing the two nations has shifted. Listening to stories from border residents, he grew curious about why they risk their lives for seemingly simple reasons—buying a cow, visiting relatives, or purchasing cosmetics.

"They told me they don't see it as a crime. People across the border need money, and they pay for what they buy. Instead of navigating complex, unreliable procedures, they take the easier way out. Border management is weak, and they aren't wealthy traders with access to dollars," Rony explained.

Before the partition of 1947, these regions flourished with thriving businesses, schools, and hospitals. However, the division led to a loss of prosperity and significance, as development shifted to the capitals, leaving these areas neglected by both nations. Residents were cut off from education and livelihood opportunities by the newly imposed borders and fences.

"When we label these people as intruders and criminalise them, how justified is that?" he questioned. "More importantly, can anyone defend such extrajudicial killings? Can Indian citizens be killed for theft? Would the Bangladeshi army kill its citizens over such accusations?" he concluded.