The American magazine opened to the feeling of foreign luxury. The smell of quality papers, binded together into a dream. One could almost feel the silkiness of the Magnum ice cream, so stately captured in the photo. The words ‘smooth’, ‘silky’ and ‘creamy’ wove into a garland of heavenly anticipation of the grand experienced to be consumed with rich satisfaction.
My dad travelled a lot for work, and often returned with magazines he picked up at the airports. Having never travelled to the Western world, I let myself get drawn into the advertisement for the creamy glory inside a wrapper. Looking at the picture of the magnum ice cream, I was transported into a place in time, where a magical life awaits. A life where beautiful dreams get fulfilled, and every sorrow melts away faster than a cone on a summer day.
Little did I know what life had in store in the next few years. Our family won the diversity lottery visa, and next thing I knew, we were flying to US. Almost as if in a blink of an eye, I travelled from that moment on our couch in Dhaka, Bangladesh, to some magical American store, with boxes of Magnum Ice cream in the freezer section. An American store called ‘Walmart’.
Many come to this land with grander dreams — financial stability, owning a house, land of opportunities to build a life of comfort and security. But to my…
