Falling leaves
Dr. Md. MoniruzzmanPhoto: STAR
ON my way back home from work I am always stuck up in snarling traffic. The vendors try to make a living out of it. During the dying hours of Ramadan they sell mineral water. These nimble-footed briskly moving vendors generally sell popcorn. They also sell lemons, roses, fried peanuts in little packets, picture books, maps, and even dolls. I am deeply attracted by the urgency with which they sell their items. Sometimes I wonder how much they make out of it! I like their zest for living against great odds. I wish Bangladesh could catch this commercial spirit.
Street vendors are popular characters in Bangla movies. Uttam was the Nilamwala Choi Anna Lelo Babu Choi Anna street vendor in the movie Prithivi Amare Chay. The street vendor who readily comes to my mind is Altaf in Nil Akasher Niche. Altaf is long gone. He was the one who sang Tumi ki dekhecho kobhu jiboner parajoy, dukher dohone, korun rodone, teele teele tar khoi (Have you ever seen the defeat of life, life that withers bit by bit/devoured by the flames of sorrow/and by the pitiful tears). This is one of the classiest songs written by late lamented Dr. Mohammed Moniruzzaman. Inimitable singer Abdul Jabbar put his heart into it to make it a phenomenally popular song.
A glorious chapter of Bengali lyrics came to an end with the passing of Dr. Moniruzzaman. I think he has gone early at the age of 72! He was struggling with his health over the last five years. He spoke Bengali with such impeccable quality. I have great admiration for Dr. Moniruzzaman for the excellence he cultivated in whatever he did, as a poet, lyricist, researcher, and as an essayist. He is highly regarded in our literature and culture.
Death is our destiny. He has gone the way others have gone in the past. Yet, his sad demise has made us poorer, because of the richness he could have added to our lives. Not long ago, around a month before the death of Dr. Moniruzzaman, Abullah Al-Mamun passed way. He was also ailing. The nation has lost a titan of the cultural field. He made Shahidullah Kaiser's Songshoptok memorable as the producer-director of the teleplay on two occasions. The popularity of our teleplays owes much to Abullah Al-Mamun's unsurpassable gift for vividly projecting the life and living of our common men bound to the soil of our country. I fondly remember his Ekhane Nongor (here lies the anchor). Besides who can forget his Sareng Bou (the sailor's wife). He was merely 66!
When it comes to death, my mind always settles on the poet Shamsur Rahman and his talk show. He spoke for all of us when he said how much he lamented the inevitability of leaving this world and the tragedy of being cut adrift from all the dear ones. The pain of passing from this world to another is so hard to bear. We come into this world not of our own will and suffer many cuts and wounds, yet we get fond of it. When the time comes for us to go we go not of our own will. The ways of life are puzzling! For "who would these fardels bear/ To grunt and sweat under a weary life/ But the dread of something after/ death/ The undiscovered country from whose bourne/ No traveller returns - puzzles the will….. (Hamlet, William Shakespeare)."
It is destiny that decides when death shall come. Even children succumb to death. Young men and women at the prime of their youth are hunted down. But old age lives in close proximity to death. The old are not always daunted by the icy stare of death. John S. McCain is running for the office of the president of USA at the age of 72. The improvement in the quality of life, and greater health consciousness, has increased the ranks of active old men in western society.
Former US president Jimmy Carter has his own agenda at the age of 84. His Carter Centre is working to advance human rights, promote democracy, improve global heath through eradication of diseases, and mediate and prevent conflicts. He has been remarkably successful in eliminating guinea worm disease in Africa.
Former prime minister Margaret Thatcher is suffering from senility related dementia. In our country there are quite a few octogenarians in the limelight. They are Professor Kabir Chowdhury, Awami League acting chief Zillur Rahman, famed Tagore song maestro Kalim Sharafi, and former president Ershad. He, in particular, draws attention for his dapper personal style.
We are eternally in love with what we are and what we want for ourselves. The tragedy of life lies in its banal end. Death and old age are, therefore, the two most virulent fears of human life. It is the negation of living beings that we are that devastates the human mind. Death makes us dispensable. The world carries on even when we are gone. That is why we cling to ourselves with utmost resolve and passion. The business of living is in a way an exercise in self-delusion. A Persian poet mourns about it: "Alas without me for thousands of years/ The rose will blossom the spring will bloom /And those who have secretly understood my heart / Will come and visit the grave where I lie."
Old age is all about putting up a brave front against this implacable foe. The lesson is to age gracefully. American poet and physician Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. spoke of this unbending spirit when he wrote: "And if I should live to be / The last leaf on the tree/ In the spring,/ Let them smile, as I do now,/ At the old forsaken bough/ Where I cling."
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