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Travel

On a dream of an island

Mohsena Reza Shopna
Sitting on the deck of L.T. Kutubdia, the lashing heat felt like a sunbath on the beach of Lankasuka, Lankawi. The clement breeze that accompanied the resplendent journey to St. Martin was an experience worth going through and an expedition to be parceled out. The water splashed, as the vessel cut through the blue waters for almost 40 km, speeding as if it was imperative to witness the historical dream island... shopner deep.
This celebrated island at present holds five names: Jinjira Deep; Narikel Jinjira; Daruchini; St. Martin; and Shopner Deep. It is singular that any island should enjoy so many pet names. The island, which is hemmed in by an exciting and vivid history of three hundred years, is located in the far south of Bangladesh. Its exquisite scene has crowned it as the foremost tourism spot on the map of the world.
At first sight from afar, you might guess that the sea is adorned with a necklace of black stones .The coral reef is set in stunning fashion along the coast. The abundance of coconut trees and palm makes the landscape wholly green, giving it a heavenly touch, and at the same time saving it from being labelled a desert. To reach Asia's smallest island which appears to be standing selflessly on a deep sea, we had to venture from Cox's Bazar to Teknaf and finally to St. Martin.
As you get off the vessel and walk across the viaduct to lay your footprints on the sands of your dreamland, you observe pretty kaleidoscopic ships and launches parked on two sides, adding colorant to the sea . Once there, you suddenly have a craving for food because you are famished, more so because you are tempted by the aroma of fresh fried fish. Trudging along the path you come along restaurants frying fishes like 'chanda', 'coral', small shrimp 'bharta' ceaselessly with no paucity of consumers. Our tummies were now growling with hunger and so we decided to go for food first and then tour the island. Our guide, very professional and informed, took us to a beautiful food court overlooking the beach. The thatched roof restaurant had guests mostly from abroad. These foreign faces beamed as they looked on the vast expanse of the sea while relishing Bengali cuisine.
Young boys selling daab told us that it was one of their main agricultural products, as also were coconuts, rice, watermelon and onion. Our throats
were so parched from the intense heat that we finished all the daab. My inquiring nature also discovered that algea was collected, then dried and finally exported to Myanmar and also that fishing, collecting pieces of wood, bamboo and floating materials of various kinds were their sources of livelihood. The sumptuous lunch was making us feel drowsy. We decided not to waste time. On our way the guide told us that that this island had come into being through the influence of'shoibaT and coral; dead animals; and a variety of other things over a span of three hundred years. In fact 'Noori' stones had collected to form this island.
With cameras at the ready we all set off to see the Corals. To my utter dismay and disbelief the corals were black in colour, with holes in them. It was not one of those pretty sights I had been expecting. I had no idea because no one had ever told me; and deep in my mind I had visualized exquisite red stones that our jewellery is studded with ! The guide noticed my perplexed look and so explained that it was in fact a hard substance secreted by certain sea animals as an external skeleton. Whatever my expectations, I did not waste time to sit down on one of the coral stones for the photo-
shoot. For me, it was one more addition to my travel album. Later I reflected. What really mattered was the pulchritudinous sea and the corals for their aesthetic layout, making St. Martin one of the most awesome islands on the map of the world. A very prominent novelist of our country, Humayun Ahmed, has a cosy lodge which people go to visit. We felt lucky to be there. As evening approached we went our separate ways. Some got busy buying 'shutki maach', others loitered along the shore. I opted to recline on the beach, feel nostalgic, reminiscing on my student days and all the lovely moments at Dhaka University, when it was free of all that it is now. The mysterious waves rolled up to me as if to say, 'que sera sera — whatever will be will be, the future's not ours to see...'
On the way back I pondered on an island which was all about sun, sea and palm trees. A place which is a spectacle of water and beach sports during the day, while the night offers you beach parties and bonfires, making you feel you are still alive!
MOHSENA REZA SHOPNA WRITES POETRY AND IS