Muzharul Islam

Like most of us, Muzharul Islam had feet of clay, but unlike most of us, he lived a noble life straining to be the best he could be. He came into my life when I was most vulnerable to his unique brand of nobility and after decades of prolonged -- mostly furious -- debate about competing ideologies, he changed my life. Muz had that effect on others as well, but I felt it uniquely because he loved his countrymen more than any of the rest of us seemed to be capable of loving ours. He was a man of the people in every imaginable way, notably at times when such a posture didn't do him a lot of personal good.
We came from diametrically opposed socio-economic backgrounds, but over time, we bonded. Ara, Rafique, Tanna and Dalia came to be family and I share their grief in this most difficult time for them. Mr. Islam never sought respect, but it came naturally and inevitably. His ties to the most humble Bengali were unbreakable and his efforts to improve their lot in this life were heroic. He fought in unique ways for the freedom of his country and will be thusly honoured.
We all have lost a most moral man; one who spent his life struggling to better the lives of others. For we the living -- his wife and children, and yes, even I -- are left to make the most of our lives as we try to seek the nobility that is Muzharul Islam's legacy of trying to be the best one can be for the sake of ourselves; and by so doing for others less fortunate than we.
Mr. Islam has gone to a far better place and we wish him well as he continues on his noble journey.

The writer is an American architect.