|The view across the Brahmaputra to Char Parbhotipur, Kurigram.|
|Boat to Char Parbhotipur, Kurigram.|
|Kashphul and rooftops, Char Parbhotipur, Kurigram.|
Shining, soft and velvety is the kashphul wildflower. It beckons to be snuggled like a puffy pillow on a winter bed, the blossom field a lamb’s wool blanket, seemingly ready to challenge with a show of enthusiastic coolness the harsh sun of autumn’s midday. It’s to tickle the cheek; to set the heart dancing. The kashphul invites with its seasonal charms.
|Mohammed Abu Taleb with family members.|
|Like the kashphul, the households are rising from the sand.|
|Kashphul makes wild sugar in the summer months.|
|Rofiqul and Jolku with goat and sheep.|
|Nasib Uddin is taking his gourds to market.|
Nasib Uddin tended his kadoa crop for two months before the first harvest, he says, and for the two following months it will yield, he will collect the gourds as they mature. It’s innovation to grow vegetables on Char Parbhotipur – the next small step of settlement. With the proceeds in Jatrapur he will buy the daily food for his family, rice in particular. He has 15 kilograms to sell on that day, at a rate of ten taka per kilogram. It means survival.
|Ambya is waiting for her husband.|
|Winnowing and pounding.|
|Storage area on stilts.|
|Kashphul beyond the fence.|
|The waterline, three times a year, at Mohammed Abu Taleb's house.|
|Aminul Islam is waiting. It's time to go.|