That’s me. There it was—a younger version of me, framed by the warmth of a Bangladesh summer, barely recognizable but unmistakably familiar. I had forgotten about this picture entirely, lost in the passage of years until a family friend from Spain sent it to me. That friend had kept it safe all these years, like a quiet guardian of forgotten memories. Looking at it, I could almost hear the faint hum of a bustling bazaar, feel the weight of the humid air, and sense the joy in my family as we posed together. Time has a way of eroding memories until they’re faint and fragmented, but this image—tattered as it was—brought a bit of it back, like an old song you hadn’t heard in ages.
Sadly, the tropical climate of Bangladesh had left its mark, and the photograph bore signs of decay, with its colors nearly gone and details blurred. But the faintness of the image only made me more determined to bring it back to life, to hold onto a piece of that fleeting past.
This is my first attempt at restoring a photograph. The first left image is fading without restoration!
