The art of life

He knows how to live life, artfully. I am truly impressed with this man who passionately follows his calling to teach. Rushing towards the classroom with a book or two in hand, rolled-up sleeves, impeccably creased trousers and sandals, he appears without fail more smartly dressed than is expected of a philosopher. Add to this an expression of rapture in anticipation of the upcoming class and you have a romantic hero of the ‘70s in your midst. Students are always greeted with a smile that promises another logic show or another magical hour in a big classroom of a small town college in Ishwardi.

He continues to provoke an ocean of questions in the minds of his little learners and thus invariably runs late for lunch; the last of his students’ queries always lingers till the doorsteps to his house. After lunch he takes a 15-minute siesta which is synchronized with his mind clock and then half-an-hour of self study before the next class. Senior students await the hour when the logic of mathematics will melt into philosophy and synthesis will create antithesis.

Life, for him, became a pilgrimage for wisdom ever since he met his teacher Nikhil Sen at the Kolkata University. Ignoring the prevalent and narrow-minded definition of success, he instead learnt to challenge life. He didn’t sit for the competitive examination, refused to take up just any job and even rejected his family business in favor of Kant, Hegel and Hume. Of course Uttam and Shuchitra have always been his repose, just like the boat-outings with his wife on moon-lit rivers and daily evening walks for clandestine smoking away from the house.

Though I am a great fan of his wisdom but I was, at one point, skeptical of its real life implications. His school of truth, beauty and goodness seemed quite unreal in the environs of Dhaka. The principal of a college in Dhaka had once requested him to come over to the metropolitan. He courteously refused, knowing all too well the amount of time he would have to waste in proving his wisdom over and again. He was right: Dhaka is now rated as the worst city in the world after Harare in terms of habitability.

He has served tours at Pabna Edward College, Sylhet M.C. College and Rangpur Karmickel College. At the end of his institutional teaching career he took his students to Kanchanjangha to celebrate his innings. Kanchanjangha could have been an inspiration from Satyajit Ray or perhaps a symbol of his philosophy of truth, beauty and goodness.

On my insistence he wrote three academic books but then stopped writing because of his belief that teaching itself is media; dozens of his students have happily taken up teaching as a profession. And then there is the station master at the Ishwardi rail station, also one of his students, who met us with a smile, took us to his office and offered tea. I was amused at his courtesy and knowledge; he worked on his computer the whole time during our conversation. There and then I decided to make contentment my goal: surely through teaching.

Recently, I rang up this person who knows the art of life to share with him my happiness. He told me that he knew I would eventually find my way to teaching. He also told me how he has taken up another assignment to guide and teach his grandson: “He’s good in both Bangla and English but still a bit weak in Mathematics. His has an ear for music and I want him to be equally good in Mathematics even if he decides to go to a music school. He would need that for higher studies no matter what course of education he chooses.” I was surprised to hear him discuss his new student’s weakness in Mathematics. Nothing is small to him. Perhaps that’s why he could master the art of life, by seeing big in small and small in big.

Much Ado About Nothing

I am almost as old as Bangladesh. While I may not be considered young anymore, my country is still a child. Thirty-nine years is nothing but the age of teething in the life of nations. The country still needs to be handled with care. Before its birth, the people of then East Pakistan had dreamt of a secular and equal society with a passion that drove them to walk on the fiery path of freedom. Bengalis had to fight back the linguistic and cultural aggression of Pakistan, and keep up the struggle against discrimination and inequity.

Sher-e-Bangla, Hussain Shaheed Suharwardi, Maulana Bhashani and Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib, among many others, fearlessly led the march towards independence. Even though Bangabandhu may appear to some as a revolutionary leader, he initially tried all democratic ways to end the sufferings of Bengalis. But when the rulers of then West Pakistan stubbornly refused to respect his people’s will, Bangabandhu had to go for independence.

Like Gandhi and Jinnah, Bangabandhu changed the course of South Asian history by giving the people of Bangladesh the right to chart their own destinies. But whereas in India Gandhi is considered above any political reproach and in Pakistan Jinnah gets equal respect from all political quarters, the same cannot be said of Bangladesh where honoring Bangabandhu depends solely on political egos. Deep political polarization questions even his patriotism, let alone popularity.

In India not even the right wing Bharatiya Janata Party dares to question or criticize Gandhi or no Congress politician claims superiority of Nehru over Gandhi. In Pakistan even the People’s Party cannot pull off comparing Bhutto to Jinnah. Yet, in Bangladesh efforts to denounce the Father of the Nation by aimless comparison with Ziaur Rahman continue unabated.

On March 7, 1971, Sheikh Mujib addressed the nation in which he gave the final signal for an armed struggle for freedom. The declaration of independence was made a couple of weeks later on March 26, 1971, but that was just a formality. The people of Bangladesh already knew in their hearts what was announced that day.

As a journalist I have worked with several veteran broadcasters and radio engineers who were instrumental in establishing the then clandestine radio station, Shadhin Bangla Betar Kendra, in 1971. These broadcasters and engineers have repeatedly confirmed publicly, and to me personally, that then Major Ziaur Rahman was invited by broadcaster Belal Mohammad to read out the declaration of independence as a mark of the army’s support to our freedom fight. On March 27, 1971, veteran broadcaster Abdullah Al Farooq witnessed Ziaur Rahman reading out of the same declaration on behalf of Sheikh Mujib. History will always laugh at the immature attempts of BNP to portray that reading of the declaration by Ziaur Rahman as an act of independent or individual announcement of freedom. After all Ziaur Rahman was an unknown voice on the airwaves at that time; he fought the war of independence as a sector commander under the military leadership of General Osmani and the civilian leadership of Sheikh Mujib.

After the assassination of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in 1975, Bangladesh became mired in conspiracies, coups and counter coups. To hold the fledgling nation together, a socialist leader, Colonel Taher, released Ziaur Rahman from house arrest and convinced him to take over the reins of the country. (The fact that Colonel Taher was later court martialled and sentenced to death under the very leadership of Ziaur Rahman is a story for another time.) As Sheikh Mujibur Rahman already had the status of being the Father of the Nation, attempts by BNP to snatch that status is nothing but futile and divisive. If such an accolade is necessary for the continuation of hereditary politics then perhaps Ziaur Rahman can be honored as the Brother of the Nation. BNP supporters and their Jamaat friends would do really well to learn from their Indian and Pakistani counterparts that giving respect to the Father of the Nation is synonymous to paying tribute to the birth of a nation.

When Ziaur Rahman himself never claimed the Kalurghat radio address as his own declaration, should the BNP do so? And then there is also the audio evidence of him reading out of the declaration of independence on behalf of Sheikh Mujib. Throughout his years in power, Ziaur Rahman remained silent about Sheikh Mujib, possibly because he had to rehabilitate Mujib’s killers and ‘71war criminals. But he never publicly downplayed Mujib. Yet, BNP MPs have shown no qualms about using uncouth language against the Father of the Nation. The Awami League MPs are no better, using their brute-majority voice in using similar politically incorrect words against Ziaur Rahman. This quarrel has all the echoes of the Lilliputian-Blefuscudian conflict, with enough dough for endless media entertainment.

How come we never see this ferocity of political competition when it comes to ensuring basic necessities like food, shelter, security and human rights? As a result the party in power is left alone to tackle such issues in whatever little time it can spare from this continuous sparring for future votes. This strategy works well for every opposition party: it ensures victory in next elections. What these political parties need to understand is that such an-eye-for-an-eye political tactics have lost their adrenalin factor for the masses, because while they bicker for power, the voters of Bangladesh watch from the sidelines as their loved ones die unattended in government hospitals or their kids fall prey to malnutrition, fall victim to university gun fights, extrajudicial killings, militancy and so on.

Bangladesh recently managed to get the western nod of approval in tackling militancy, but the ongoing extrajudicial killings and unrest in Chittagong Hill Tracts will attract even less investment and earn the country a bad image. But then who cares about image. Dhaka has been assessed as the worst city in the world after Harare in terms of insecurity and traffic woes.

Ideally, our political leader should be spending sleepless nights over such multi-edged crisis, instead of appearing in news clips as wrestlers or soap opera villains. Countries of the same age as Bangladesh have earned at least a middle income status. In today’s modern world, national issues like the honor of the Father of the Nation and freedom fighters or agendas like war criminal trials are tackled by competent legal systems, and not by making a mockery of them.

BNP should maybe think ten times before abusing Sheikh Mujibur Rahman or supporting war criminals and militant forces. And Awami League, as a veteran political party, should be more careful about defaming Ziaur Rahman. Both parties are now at the crossroads where they need to decide how they want to be remembered: with respect or with hatred. Hasn’t enough time been wasted for Sheikh Hasina and Khalida Zia to respond to the mass appeal and stop this ‘much ado about nothing’.

শেকড়ের কাছে ফিরে আসা

ঠিক দিনক্ষণ গুণে ফিরে আসিনি। তবে এখানে শেষ লেখার দিকে তাকিয়ে মনে হলো গত এক বছরে এদিকে আসা হয়নি কোন লেখা নিয়ে। নতুন করে আসলে ফাঁদতে হয় নতুন কোন অজুহাত বা গল্প। সেরকম প্রথাচারিতার অনুশীলন করে একটা গল্প শেয়ার করতে চাই। বেশ ক'মাস আগে এক অনুষ্ঠানে দেখা হলো প্রজন্ম একাত্তরের এক জনের সাথে। বিজনেস কার্ড হাতে ধরিয়ে বললেন, "ভাইয়া, একদিন আসুন না, আপনার সাথে একটু আলাপ করি"। আমি একজন অতি সাধারণ মানুষ, অসাধারণদের স্পর্শ পেলে নিজেকেও অসাধারণ ভাবতে থাকি। তাই একদিন ফোন করে নিজেই যেচে তার বিজনেস অফিসে গেলাম।

আধা ঘন্টা অফিসে অপেক্ষা করার পর যখন অন্দরমহলে ডাক পড়ল তখন একরৈখিকভাবে আলাপ শুরু হলো কোন বিজনেস নিয়ে নয়। একাত্তর নিয়ে। মুখোমুখি হয়েছি প্রজন্ম একাত্তরের একজন যার বাবা শহীদ হয়েছেন। কি ভাবনা তার? যুদ্ধাপরাধীদের বিচার নিয়ে কি ভাবছেন? প্রজন্ম একাত্তরের আবেদন অনেক বেশী। নবীন ও তরুণদেরকে তারা অনেক বেশী প্রেরণা দিতে পারবেন - এ বিশ্বাস আমার প্রবল। আলাপকালে কথা উঠল ব্লগানো নিয়ে। ইয়াহু গ্রুপে এক্টিভিজম আর ৭১'এর এডভোকেসী নিয়ে। কিন্তু আলাপ সচল হয় না। বারবার থমকে দাঁড়ায়। তার আলাপে আশাবাদ ব্যক্ত হয়, কোন প্রতিশ্রুতি প্রকাশ পায় না।

বারবার ঘুরে ফিরে ব্যক্তিগত বিজনেসের আলাপ উঠে আসে যার প্রতি আমার বিন্দুমাত্রও আগ্রহ নেই। কিন্তু আমি নাছোর বান্দা মানুষ। আমি ইনিয়ে বিনিয়ে বিষয়টি আবারও একাত্তরের কাছে নিয়ে আসি। এক পর্যায়ে সে নিজেই বলে উঠে, "জানেন ভাইয়া, আমার বয়স হয়েছে। আজকে বয়স যদি কম থাকতো, তাহলে অনেক কিছুই করতে পারতাম..."। দেয়ালে ঝুলে থাকা তার বাবার ছবিটার দিকে তাকিয়ে নিষ্পলক দৃস্টিতে ভাবতে থাকি এই নির্লিপ্ততা তার বাবার মতো লক্ষ লক্ষ শহীদদের জন্য কতোটা বেদনাদায়ক। এই নির্লিপ্ততা কি প্রজন্মগত শূণ্যতা? হতাশা, অবিশ্বাস অথবা অস্পস্টতার বিশুদ্ধতম প্রকাশ? অথবা পরিকল্পিতভাবে ৭১ নিয়ে বিস্মৃতি ও বিকৃতির বাইপ্রোডাক্ট হিসেবে এই অসংবেদনশীলতার প্রকাশ? এজন্যই যুদ্ধাপরাধীদের বিচারের নিয়ে নতুনভাবে একটি মোমেন্টাম তৈরীর খুব দরকার।

৭১'এর যুদ্ধাপরাধীদের বিচার একটি অমীমাংসিত বাস্তবতা। বর্তমান মহাজোট সরকার যুদ্ধাপরাধীদের বিচার করার ম্যান্ডেট নিয়ে ক্ষমতায় এসেছে। গত ছয় মাস ধরেই তারা জায়গা আর জনবল ঠিক করে যাচ্ছে। কিন্তু প্রক্রিয়াটা এখনও বড্ডো ঝাপসা আর অস্পস্ট। মার্চ মাসে যুদ্ধাপরাধের কাজ শুরু হবে, শেষ হবে কবে? এমনেস্টি ইন্টারন্যাশনাল, ইউরোপীয়ান ইউনিয়ন আর বিগ ব্রাদার্সরা ওয়াচ করছেন, তারাও এখন স্বচ্ছতা খুঁজছেন। ৭৫'এর পর এখনই সবচেয়ে বেশী স্বচ্ছতার দরকার!!

যুদ্ধাপরাধীদের বিচার ঠেকাতে রাজাকার-জামাতী ও তাদের জাতীয়তাবাদী ব্রাদাররা দেশে বিদেশে নেটওয়ার্কিং শুরু করছেন প্রবলভাবে। গত বছর হলো বিডিআর বিদ্রোহ। এবারে একই সময়ে কাকতালীয়ভাবে শুরু হয়েছে পাহাড়ী-বাঙ্গালী যুদ্ধ। দেশ দ্রুত হাঁটছে অনিশ্চয়তার দিকে। স্বাধীনতার বিপক্ষের শক্তি বসে নেই। তারা নীরবে নিভৃতে কাজ করছে। টেইলারের দোকানে মুজিব কোর্টের অর্ডার একটু বেশী পড়বে তা কোন মৌসুমী পূর্বাভাস নয়। যুদ্ধাপরাধী বর্ণচোরারা চিরকালই লেবাস বদলাতে বড্ডো সিদ্ধহস্ত। তার খোলসেই চলবে নতুন করে ধান্ধাবাজি। তাই, ৭১ নিয়ে আলোচনা আর মতামত অগ্রসর করার খুব দরকার। যুদ্ধাপরাধীদের বিচারের দাবীতে দরকার এর সপক্ষে জনমত প্রবলতর করার। দরকার শেকড়ের কাছে ফিরে আসার।

Even a brick has a soul

World-renowned architect Louis Kahn, who also designed the parliament building of Bangladesh, while defining his philosophy once said that even a brick has a soul. Three of our top leaders – Shaikh Hasina, Khaleda Zia and H.M. Ershad – have spent confinement within the red brick walls of sub-jails adjacent to the parliament house. While Ershad claims to have been a victim of Khaleda Zia’s vengeance, both the women leaders allege that their confinement was an attempt to implement the minus-2 formula. Whatever the allegations and counter-allegations, the common outcome was sabbaticals forced upon all three of them for soul-searching within the red-bricks of Louis Kahn.

Ershad took over power by removing a democratically elected BNP president, Abdus Sattar, after which he went on to shelter war criminals as well as the killers of the Father of the Nation, gifted Bangladesh with a state religion, implemented Ayub Khan-style basic democracy that was nothing but mere eye-wash, and wrote poetry. All this catalyzed the twin processes of criminalization and Islamisation in politics. Then came the mass democratic movement of the ‘90s and Ershad was jailed. It’s easy to assume that he passed his days and nights like Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar by staring at the red bricks. The subsequent 15-year democratic spin ended with the installment of a military supported 1/11 caretaker government in 2007. Khaleda Zia and Shaikh Hasina were in turn relocated to those same red brick premises.

Khaleda Zia was incarcerated for her desire to rule over Bangladesh till her death. She came to power in 1991, and as a means to an end followed in the footsteps of her arch-enemy Ershad by tolerating political criminalization and promoting the killers of Mujibur Rahman. People’s choice ousted her 5 years later but as luck would have it, Shaikh Hasina too failed to hold her party godfathers on a tight leash and had to relinquish power after five years.

BNP won the 2001 polls with a brute majority, and we assumed Khaleda Zia must have learnt from her mistakes. We were again disappointed. This time round her son Tareq Rehman, like Sanjay Gandhi, started a parallel government from his whirl castle. Tareq’s sycophants launched percentage terrorism while simultaneously courting and facilitating the Talibanisation of Bangladesh, and prepared ground for election engineering. Tareq could not play the Nero’s flute as times would not permit him to go that far, so he took to cricket to ridicule an opposition protest. But it had the same effect: Dhaka started burning like Rome. Sadly, Khaleda Zia’s affections for her son turned out to be blinder than that of Indra Gandhi.

Having said that, it’s lamentable the kind of physical abuse Tareq Rehman had to face during the 1/11 administration. Such penance cannot be expected in a modern state. One can simply hope Tareq has realized that no power is absolute. He could have avoided being the target of such harassment had his involvement in politics been fair enough to win the hearts of an apolitical majority. Then there would have been no reason for the masses and the military to support 1/11. If leaders consider relying on political institutions a long winded wait and try to take fate into their own hands, nature inevitably steps in to put things back on course, sometimes rectifying a wrong with another wrong.

One might add that it’s still quite early to judge if lessons have been learnt, but a time-tested maxim does arise: without respect for democracy and people’s will, political ground can overnight turn into ashes.

And what did Shaikh Hasina learn during her confinement within the red bricks of soul? She displayed courage by getting rid of a few party godfathers and power abusers who had made her ’96 government unpopular. She, however, has not been able to stop her party cadres from changing the names of institutions in the BNP fashion, nor restrain their attempts to paint the face of Bangladesh with the colors of Awami League.

Politicians of questionable ethics and pseudo media-intellectuals talk about 1/11 as if they had no contribution to the rise of that undemocratic setup. Such political businessmen and opportunist intellectuals would do better if they learnt to earn their bread and butter just like the hardworking people they claim to represent.

Had there been no Hawa Bhaban (Tareq’s whirl castle), had the BNP not tried to install a favorable caretaker government to engineer elections, had there been an impartial election commission with a fair voters’ list and had the civil bureaucracy not been lego-ised to support election fraud, the political scene today would been much friendlier.

The current Awami League-led grand alliance will have to show conformity with democratic institutions and will have to rely on people’s will alone. It will have to realize that voters are neither supporters of Awami League not of BNP. Voters are only clients of democracy, willing to give mandate to the party that delivers. Neither they nor anyone else wants to see the shadows of 1/11 haunting the collective fate of peace-loving nation.

So far so good

BNP beneficiaries would say ‘Paradise Lost’; Awami Leaguers would claim ‘Paradise Regained’, while the apolitical ones would assess the situation as ‘So Far So Good’.

Just when the Awami League-led grand alliance stepped out of the pavilion to start governance, Pilkhana tragedy took place, forcing the government into a tight spot. The prime minister handled the conspiracy with the care it demanded, and even though the trial of the perpetrators has been delayed, hopefully justice will not be denied.

The initial cabinet was full of freshmen; AL subsequently got rid of the stereotyped political faces but purging veterans from the playing field has not been an easy task; they are after all a burden of the Awami League legacy. And freshmen, who are trying to prove better replacements, clearly lack the efficiency and political subtlety required to keep up with modern day politics. To be fair, it deserves to be mentioned that the veterans, too, have had serious shortcoming in areas of diplomacy and constructive efficiency.

The new government controlled price hike well during the first six months of attaining power, but syndicate horses are at best wild, and conformity proves less profitable. We well know the mantra of third world laissez faire: pure profit without social responsibility.

Brownouts continue to make life miserable in Bangladesh, yet some credit is owed to the AI-led government’s attempts at stabilizing power supply.

Shaikh Hasina promised to change the old ways; a few sons of old MPs understand this ‘change’ to be a coinage good enough only to lure people. Genetic propensity to grab lands of the retreating parties (post ’47 and again post ’71) cannot be curbed with an up to date election manifesto alone. It needs more than cosmetic ideals. Ironically, in a changed global reality threatening journalists the old fashioned way didn’t work to their benefit either. For seven years tender terrorists and un-studently student leaders had to sit on the sidelines and watch their BNP counterparts succeed through loot, plunder and torture. When their time came, the media didn’t let them enjoy their honeymoon. Central leaders of the Awami League also signaled to the notorious party cadres to behave.

For the first time in 38 years, the Education Minister, Nurul Islam Nahid, has come out with a meaningful policy; overcoming all hurdles he lived up to his promise of providing free books to young learners.

Finance minister, Abdul Mal Muhit, active with economic reforms, has taken peasants’ rights into consideration, urged reforms in the banking sector and offered revised pay scales to public servants. Matia Chowdhury, a legend of political honesty, continues with her success in the agricultural sector, but unfortunately even she hasn’t been able to come out of the political blame game culture. It’s really quite unnecessary to speak ill of the opposition while sitting with a brute majority.

The law and order situation has improved. However, ongoing extrajudicial killings question the credibility of a democratic government. Manpower diplomacy has been average; there are still many needs to be taken care of. The looming threat of recession alone may send more workers back home. Environmental diplomacy, too, has failed to be come through as extraordinary; perhaps because our Prime Minister didn’t voice enough concern over carbon emissions, yet forcefully demanded financial compensation. This could be ignored as a mere reflection of an overall mindset of a poor nation perpetually occupied with making ends meet.

The government’s initiative towards improving relations with India is timely, while our opposition is still trying to sell its anti-India propaganda not realizing that New Delhi and Beijing are emerging realities in the current world order.

Verdict in the Father of the Nation killing case has come as a relief for the conscience of Bangladesh. Now the war criminal trial should be activated to uphold human rights as promised in the election manifesto. Diplomacy with the Muslim world must be strengthened for many reasons, not less of which is that war criminals should be stopped from seeking sympathy in the name of their Islamic outfit.

Militants tried to Talibanize Bangladesh during the BNP-Jamaat rule, but as the people of Bangladesh are generally secular and the media played a constructive role, we got a clean slate from the western world. The AL-led government shares the credit in allowing people to practice Islam peacefully.

Shaikh Hasina claims that her government this time round is truly green and free from corruption. But she should not forget that the British and Pakistani colonial rules successfully cultivated political criminalization in Bangladesh; a process continued by the military rulers. That’s why it’s generally understood that people enroll into politics to earn or to loot. No one can change this mindset overnight. Nevertheless, things are moving towards the better; realizing the end result and having paid the price of political corruption BNP has promised to transform its whirl palace into a light house.

BNP ought to keep its promise or risk losing more votes. One must, however, say that being in the opposition has been an advantage in Bangladesh since 1991: when the party in power fails to deliver people opt for the opposition. So Awami League will have to work hard to maintain popularity, at least till the next elections. By then almost 70 per cent voters will emerge from a generation that holds information in a cell phone. Political coquetry will have become old fashioned by that time. So either you deliver or No Thanks – that’s going to be the political reality in Bangladesh.

Light House

Society changes at a rapid pace, we constantly surrender to the automation of neo-gadgets. This has been a ceaseless reality since the Industrial Revolution. But Dhaka society is different. The rate of change is more rapid; social inequity speed-rides on the wheels of corruption; values of truth and goodness are as outdated as our parents or teachers who tried to infuse high seriousness and inculcate a belief system that is now as precious as diamonds.

Understanding this metamorphosis of Dhaka, I usually try to interact with the glitterati with caution; knowing quite well that their attitude and mode of socializing changes with their position in the power structure. It’s almost like visiting a house in Dhanmandi or Gulshan after a gap of two or three years and expecting an apartment building in place of the small house surrounded by a piece of green.

But it’s been a great relief to discover that unlike the social stereotypes of Dhaka, our English department teachers have remained as warm as our parents, untouched by the wave of decay that seems to have permeated everywhere else. I wonder if our department is a secluded island or a planet outside the effects of social eclipse.

Syed Manjoorul Islam once wrote a word on the blackboard of the first year class: aesthetics. Many will agree that his gift of aesthetics has been a precious asset in our lives. As a teacher, writer and moderator of our university debating society I have experienced him to be the same loving person over the last two decades who could easily maintain a distance from the temptation of an uncouth reality.

Anis Ahmed was a young teacher in the late ‘80s who used to passionately promote our cultural and theatre activities. He left our department to work as an international broadcaster abroad. Time and space are cruel entities for mercilessly taking a huge toll on our existence, but meeting Anis Ahmed in Washington was like going back to my teen years when I used to talk to him in his department chamber.

Kashinath Roy, an introvert, romantic teacher wearing pyjama punjabi, explained to us the meaning of the word ‘philistines’, narrating the nouveau-riche mannerism with amusing accuracy. We imbibed his clear judgment of our philistine society. I haven’t seen him in the last 15 years but that hardly matters. I can refresh my memory any time and see him walking through our department corridor as if it was yesterday.

Imtiaz Habib left the department disappointed with his future in Bangladesh. His inspiration and outlook on creative writing, and dislike for summarized-notes eaters made him an icon, even for those who couldn’t have him as their teacher.

Fakhrul Alam, Kaisar Hamidul Haq, Shaukat Alam, Anwarul Haq are still our heroes. They always made time for our cricket matches, river cruises and cultural activities. Nazmin Haq would even participate alongside us in our chorus picnics and outings.

Our English department teachers offered optimum attention to every one of their students, in and outside the classroom. Every single student was and is important to them. Before entering into the chambers of living legends like Sirajul Islam Chowdhury or Razia Khan Amin we used to tremble in fear as how to settle a missed tutorial exam. Gifting them the latest edition of Little Magazine often succeeded as an excuse. Can I ever forget Razia Amin Khan who smiled and scolded with affection, “Such a bribe will definitely help get you a chance to retake the tutorial.”

My missing out any name of our teachers hardly matters; Shushil da or Bulbul da could perhaps fill in the gap to encompass the legacy of English department. I have only tried to sketch a few of our role models who were the dwellers of a light house, who changed and gave meaning to our lives. Quite unlike the youth of today who are forced by the ground realities of a crude materialistic society, when we came out of the English department it wasn’t just the degrees we carried with us.

Our role models helped us maintain the romanticism of an atypical way of thought. Whether in civil service, journalism, creative writing and corporate boardrooms or anywhere around the globe, English department alumni are bearing the torch of that tradition infused with individual talent. Our teachers didn’t only offer class lectures or confine our world within the bars of curriculum. They instead deconstructed the syllabus and infused our horizon with depth, confidence and aesthetics. In the wake of burgeoning social inequilibrium and commercialization of education, will this fairytale of our English department be able to continue? I wonder if our new generations will readily sacrifice their lives the way our role models did to carry on the legacy of the English department. Unless we rejuvenate the glory of Dhaka University the relics of the Oxford of the East will be relegated to memories alone; the memories of a ‘light house’.

[photo courtesy: here]