The Narratives – Mohamed Miah

When I look back at my life, I don’t think there’s a particular age or year I’d want to re-live entirely. I’m content with the path I’ve walked and how things have unfolded. Life has been filled with lessons, good memories, and, inevitably, losses that make me appreciate the present even more. But there are moments—some small, some monumental—that I would revisit, not to change anything, but simply to savour them a little longer.

Take the memories with my grandparents, for example. When I was five, I spent time with them in the UK, unaware then that it would be one of our last precious moments together. The last time I saw them was when I was sixteen in Bangladesh. Those memories, though now distant, feel like a warm, faded photograph in my mind, a part of my childhood I’d hold on to just a little tighter if I could.

Then there’s my nan. I was twenty-two the last time I saw her. The finality of these moments didn’t hit me then, but they’ve become part of a tapestry of memories that make me realise how much family, even in their absence, shapes who we are.

And of course, there’s my dad. I miss him every day. We shared a unique bond, especially in those good moments when his health allowed him to be more himself. One of my favourite memories is from when I was eighteen, and we attended a wedding in London together. That day, he was less a parent and more like a friend—a rare and treasured memory I’d revisit in a heartbeat.

Between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, life was a whirlwind of excitement, lessons, and experiences. Everything happened during those years: the thrills, the challenges, the discoveries. It was a time of constant growth, learning about life and myself, and I often look back on those days with a nostalgic smile. Those were the years that laid the foundation for who I am today.

In truth, though, while reliving these memories sounds tempting, it’s a double-edged sword. Rewinding time and re-living isn’t quite what it’s made out to be. Life moves forward, and that’s part of its beauty. I’m grateful for the memories, for the people who shaped me, for the lessons learnt. Alhamdulilah, I feel blessed for every moment that has passed, and I embrace what’s still to come.

Next year, I’ll be sharing more of these reflections in my upcoming story, (I Wish I Could) The Narratives. It’s a journey through life’s moments and memories, capturing the layers that make us who we are. I hope you’ll join me as we explore these narratives together.