The tall Punjabi officer of the BSF said straight to Sapta, “As long as Hamara Bara Sub Nehi Ayega, Tabtak A Kamra Nehi De Sakte”. As the morning wore on, Jubayer, a fellow passenger at the Gede border, just stared at his DSLR, and immediately snatched it with a cho. The other three of us had just finished checking the BSF and were waiting for him here. Seeing his delay, I went back and saw this condition. In fact, the natural beauty of Gede Border was so enchanting on the morning of Shravan, the camera of hobby photographer Zubair went out on its own. Anyway, I begged and said, Hum log ka train hey, if you miss one, everything will be wasted. I apologize to the child. Zubair also said sorry. The Punjabi officer returned the camera with a smile.
I have been wanting to visit Murshidabad for many days. Although he went to the banks of the Padma while studying at Rajshahi University, he wanted to go to Murshidabad on the other side. Murshidabad was part of the kingdom of Rani Bhabani of Natore. And there are so many drawings of history. All in all, Sohaga in gold.

I came to visit the AC coach of Royal quite comfortably and after completing the immigration part of Bangladesh in a very short time, I rented a van for thirty rupees. And that’s where the camera shoots. However, since the incident ended without any money, we rushed to Gede, meaning Gede railway station. After Indian immigration, we all had a hot breakfast with bread, eggs, and vegetables. Then I took the money in rupees. It was raining, I had smoked hot tea, bought a ticket for only 5 rupees and boarded the ‘Gede Local’ train. 15 minutes later I got off at Mazda Bazar station. Seeing the crowd there, I realized that the local admission to Gede may have started from Mazdia. The bus from Krishnanagar is just 2 minutes away from the station. At a fare of 22 rupees, we arrived within an hour at Krishnanagar, the headquarters of Nadia district. The absolutely rural environment along the way, vast green jute fields, and small localities. Nadia seemed to be a little behind the rest of the region. Dear Gopal Bhar and his king Krishna Chand came to Krishnanagar and we had lunch a little ahead of time, along with Gopal’s favorite, our favorite Rasgolla. Bus stop from Kolkata to Bahrampur on Krishnanagar High Road. From there we took a bus to Behrampur, renting a bus for only 70 rupees and we came to Behrampur through the historic Palashi desert. Where it takes 100 rupees to come to Gulistan from Uttara in Dhaka. Who cares about the poor in our country! Anyway, back to the context. After getting off the Bahrampur bus terminal and proceeding on the left-hand side, there are many hotels. Since we have been traveling since night, we took a good quality Sonali Bangla Hotel. There I took a hot shower and a little rest and went out to ‘Lalbagh’ i.e. the original Murshidabad.

As we passed the town of Bahrampur and entered Lalbagh, the characters of the film Nawab Siraj-ud-Daulah came to mind and seemed to be in a trance. We first landed at Hazarduari Palace and Imambara premises. I bought a ticket for forty rupees and entered Hazarduari. Many historical things are beautifully arranged in the museum. Those who like history may find English and Nawab soldiers in those clothes even today. You will find Nawab who is crowned on the throne under the chandelier. And inside the couch, jewelry or furniture of Begum Saheb. Somewhere in solitude, you will hear their cries. However, we did not go to Osbe because we were in a hurry. Beyond their magic, I went outside to take pictures in front of Imambara. Because it is only opened during the Muharram fair.

It was getting late, and a coachman was walking around for a long time, telling various stories. We want to be his companion for the rest of his journey. We surrendered to the gentleman’s patience. But after going some distance, I don’t know why his weak horse didn’t want to go anymore. Maybe he didn’t want to book us because he was hungry and tired. Excluding city tours like the necessary Nawabs, we caught the auto again. The garden house of the Nawabs is Lalgola, from there the house of Mir Zafar Ali Khan, then the graves of their descendants. Seeing the narrow roads and neglected villages, one may not think how powerful they were once. Nowadays, the leaders of the neighborhood also go with great force. And they were the harta-kartas of such a vast region including Bangladesh, West Bengal, Bihar, Jharkhand, and Odisha. There might have been a ticket to the grave, I went inside and didn’t see anyone. After a while, when Farid Bhai came, someone jumped up from the next room and said, “Grandpa, I have to get a ticket.” Mir Zafar Ali Khan, who was one of the richest men of the time, joined hands with Jagat Seth, Raj Vallabh, Roy Durlav, Umi Chand, Ghaseti Begum and committed the ultimate betrayal of the Nawab. He sacrificed the interests of the country for the sake of the individual. The end result is 200 years of slavery.

When we came to Nawab Katra, it was closed. Asking the gatekeeper to come from Bangladesh, he gave permission. I was really overwhelmed to see such a beautiful aesthetic mosque so long ago. Today, it is difficult to think of such a large aesthetically pleasing mosque as a museum. It was even worse to see a small grave lying in a corner. The tomb belongs to Nawab Murshid Quli Khan, who removed the capital of Bengal from Dhaka and founded a new city in his own name, Murshidabad!

Our last destination was the palace of the Nawabs at Motijheel. I found out from the locals that Motijheel is interesting at night due to the flash of light. Honestly, the most interesting thing for me in Bahrampur-Murshidabad was this Motijheel Ecopark. In June 1757, Siraj left Motijheel for Palashi. But the irony of destiny did not return to him. Bhagirathi’s other

He was buried on the bank. The palace of Motijheel was destroyed. If you want to visit here, you can stay in very beautiful cottages on the shores of Motijheel Lake. A little more than a hotel, 1500 to 2 thousand rupees in such a nice environment to spend the opportunity not to miss. And in the evening you can enjoy excellent light and sound show in the presence of historical characters.

At night when I was returning to Bahrampur town by auto on the banks of Bhagirathi. There was a strange sound in the cool air that filled the life of the river. It seemed that the faint sounds of countless people were floating in the air. They want to know why here? I said, to know the history. They were angry and wanted to know, what do you know? I said, the greatest lesson in history, no one learns from history.