A life Less Ordinary!
A life less ordinary / Profession, Passion & the story of being!
So, I came back home at long last. The first few days of me being home was spent as if I were in a daze. Everything I saw around me, my favorite city seemed to be very attractive.
Back Home!
I was thinking of how the future would be in this new-born nation of ours. Looking at the void, ruling over the dark waters of the Jamuna, I was ruminating on the immediate
After the War
I arrived in Dhaka on the 10th of January. Pakistani occupation army had surrendered after an ignominious defeat in the hands of the joint forces comprising Mukti Bahini (Liberation War Army) and the Indian Armed Forces on the 16th of December 1971.
a life less ordinary / My War (2) !
Rustom was an adolescent of about 13. He belonged to a village close to Satkhira, then a sub-division in the Khulna district. He arrived in a sub-sector camp of the Mukti Bahini in action along the border between Satkhira and Hasnabad.
So, here we are !
The day came and went! In fact, three of them in a row. 2018 was the golden jubilee year of the foundation of Nagorik Natya Sampradaya, the theatre group I belong to. More importantly, this is the year that marked the forty-fifth anniversary of continuous staging of plays in Bangladesh. This was a singular achievement of my group. No mean job, that!
A Life Less Ordinary / My War!
I started working at the Shadhin Bangla Betar Kendra, the Radio in exile of the independent Bangladesh one fine morning. Alamgir Kabir was my superior as the Programme Organizer of the English Language Programme. This programme of special broadcast was introduced in consideration of the fact that the world had to be told about our war and the reasons there of. This included politics, economics, sociology and culture of the population that inhabited Bangladesh.
A Life Less Ordinary! / Towards a new destination!
The train started rolling at around nine in the morning. We were initially busy with making ourselves comfortable.
Agartala, and travel thru The ‘Pahar' line!
Agartala's population had doubled by March 1971. Therefore, when we arrived in that town it did not seem like an Indian town. Almost everyone was speaking in our language, nay our dialect.
An extraordinary advent of winter!
Today I have to digress from my usual column on recording the events of my life and venture on to something pleasanter and more contemporary.
The border and beyond!
We were in our village for twelve days. I must confess that during those days every night had brought for us a nightmare of a possible attack by the army. Fortunately for us, the raiders were wary of intruding in to the Bangladeshi ...
THE WAR (TWO)!
Bhaiya, my elder brother, woke me up at about mid-day and asked me to crawl under the ceiling of the boat. Asked about the reason, he pointed towards the river bank. Pakistan army strolling on the bank could be seen clearly.
The War (One)!
I managed to collect myself from the stupor that the immersion of the two 303 rifles handed over by the policemen had caused me and woke up to the present. The place was bereft of any human beings.
Twenty-fifth and after!
Things were very tense through the month of March of Nineteen Seventy-one in the then East Pakistan. President Yahya Khan of Pakistan left Dhaka on the night of the third of March leaving a dialogue with Bangabandhu inconclusive.
To a different Dhaka!
So, I was back home again! Though I missed Karachi, it was great to be back. Dhaka was the same. No major changes had occurred except that its citizens became politically heated.
Farewell to Karachi!
Karachi was a popular city with the young ones for a variety of reasons. First and foremost was the glitter and the glitterati of this city and the second was the vibrancy.
Life Beyond Dhaka!
I had decided that I would not burden my readers by going in detail with my boring and mundane journey through life.
Remembering “Guru Bhai”
One might be astonished as to why I referred to the late Vinod Khanna as “Guru Bhai”. Our acquaintance was through Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, my Guruji.
The growing up years!
Dhaka was already getting crowded and there were a very few places where one could seek seclusion. So my visits to the outskirts of the town became frequent. During this time, while in town, I picked up friendship with some original Dhaka dwellers. These people, even today, are known as Dhakaiyas and are full of wit and humour.
