Icons Covid took away in 2021
The pandemic purged the country of some of its brightest stars, for the second year in a row.
In April, the small spiky virus extinguished the million-watt smile of Sarah Begum Kabori. The legendary actress had stepped in front of the silver screen at the age of thirteen, and then, forever lay etched in the Bangladeshi psyche as a maiden la belle. It is not as if the nation lost an actor or even a celebrity – what is lost forever is a heroine who could be the queen of hearts across ages and classes. The "Mishti Meye" had united the people of a new nation-state in formation, using nothing more complicated than her sweet "girl-next-door" charm.
As actress Joya Ahsan posted in her tribute on Facebook, "She came and conquered at a time when Urdu films were immensely popular in Bengal".
Kabori died at a time when hearts were healing from the death of Mita Huq. What Kabori had done with her smile, Huq had achieved with her voice. Tagore left behind words and melody structures -- Haque brought them to life as sentiments, shared and felt by the nation.
For a large part of her discography, she steered clear of crowd-pleasers and instead aimed to disseminate the more complex musical arrangements of Tagore, usually of the devotional genre. Her mass appeal took the genius of Tagore out of the ivory tower of academic discourse, and into everyday life – moments when it rained, when love happened and when the soul bowed in prayer.
During an interview with The Daily Star in January, Huq had reminisced about the maestros lost to the pandemic. "It is necessary to keep these people, their words, their teachings relevant to the present time; necessary to preserve them as crown jewels, because it would take decades to fill their absence," she said. Four months later, she joined their ranks.
In 2020 a rumour arose on social media that acting legend, ATM Shamsuzzaman had passed away. The Ekushey Padak winning playwright and director had scoffed away the rumour with his classic wry smile. This was not the first time that rumour mongers had "killed" him, Shamsuzzaman reminded everyone.
So on February 21, when the nation woke up to the news that Shamsuzzaman was no more the first reaction was that of disbelief. This time though, he was not there to laugh off the rumour. "Kan-kata Ramzan" would never again appear make audiences shudder with his archetypal comic villains.
Shamsuzzaman's life was no less gut-wrenchingly dramatic than any one of his movies – in a twist of fate, he had to witness one of his sons kill another, testify against his own son and then watch him get sentenced for life.
Bangla Academy lost three academics, sapping the house of heads of its most valued commodity: knowledge. However, only one, resident folklorist and president of the Academy, Shamsuzzaman Khan, was lost to covid-19.
Before his death, Khan had collected and codified folklores from 64 districts, ensuring that the oral histories of Bangladesh would survive the annals of time. In 2013, Nobel laureate Amartya Sen told The Daily Star, "He (Shamsuzzaman) has made us think afresh on many important subjects (particularly on the understanding of folk literature as well as literary texts), and we have reason to be grateful for Shamsuzzaman Khan's well-established intellectual leadership."
Just as we lost a premier folklorist, we also lost our premier folk singer Fakir Alamgir. To date, it would be impossible to find a single resident of age in this country who does not sympathise with the pain of a starving farmer migrating to the city to pull a rickshaw, as he longs for his Sokhina.
With the unforgettable line of "Sokhina have you forgotten me?" Alamgir gave voice to the hundreds of thousands of young migrant romantics leaving home in search of life and livelihoods.
National award-winning music composer Farid Ahmed died of the virus in April. Ahmed is most popularly known for creating a tune that is basically muscle memory to the ears of the 90's generation, the tune that is most reminiscent of the night-time family huddle around the television: the theme song of Ittyadi.
If the genre of gonosangeet had an anthem, Salaam salaam hazar salaam would make the cut. The tune that would wrench hearts for decades to come, was composed by Fazal-e-Khuda. Khuda succumbed to the virus in July.
Noted economist, former deputy governor of Bangladesh Bank, Khondkar Ibrahim Khaled died in February from post-Covid complications. Khaled was most prominently known for his role in holding the banking sector accountable for its irregularities. Just last year, Khaled
Veteran journalist leader Reazuddin Ahmed's light went out while he was receiving treatment for Covid-19.
In the history of Bangladeshi media, some of the most well-known pillars of journalism passed through the hands of Ahmed, including this newspaper itself – The Daily Star saw Ahmed as its deputy editor during its first two years between 1991-92.
But perhaps to the industry, he will be most remembered for his role in fighting for the freedom of a press that went above and beyond political faultiness.
As the National Press Club's vice president Saiful Alam said at a recent remembrance, "Ahmed is the undivided leader of a divided media community."