Tariq Ali bhai -- the man I knew as my real-life hero

It was in the 1990s that my Mejho Mama (my mother's second brother, who is no more) took us to the Russian Cultural Centre in Dhaka to watch a documentary film, "Muktir Gaan". Then a teenager, my heart was always ready to fall in love. And I did. He was the narrator of the story -- the young man with the black-rimmed, thick glasses and a determined jaw, the one who could not join the frontline freedom fighters because of his myopia. I could feel his heartbreak, the emotions he described on setting his foot on the liberated part of his motherland, my beloved Bangladesh.

After the movie, we met with some of the people from the singing troupe that roamed around refugee and freedom fighters' camps, bolstering their spirit. But the young man, who must have been in his 40s by then, was not among them.

Fast forward to 2006. I was working at a private university, teaching the first year elective Bangladesh Studies. As part of a course's study tour, I took two busloads of 18 and 19-year-olds to the serene premises of the Liberation War Museum (LWM) at Segunbagicha under LWM's outreach programme. The students were invited to watch a documentary on the genocide perpetrated in Bangladesh by Pakistani military forces and their collaborators.  It was not an easy thing to watch. Coming out with teary eyes and profound shock, we saw this man standing before us in the tiny but cozy museum yard. Standing tall and straight, the grey-haired man had gold rimmed glasses but the same determined jaw I saw in "Mukti Gaan". I immediately recognised him as my hero from the documentary.

Though no longer a teenager, my heart began to pound. He started talking to us, asking the students about their opinion of the documentary, what they felt, what they expect to see. His voice strong and sharp; his eyes, it seemed, could see right into our hearts. I went forward and introduced myself, adding that I remembered him from the documentary. As I praised him for the contribution to the Liberation War, I discovered one of the humblest persons I have ever met. Tariq Ali bhai, as I came to call him from that day onwards, was an epitome of modesty.

From that winter of 2006 till last winter, every meeting with Tariq Ali bhai has been awe-inspiring. A nod and a smile were always his greeting gesture. And he never stepped away from the respectful "apni" even when talking to the school kids. He believed in the power of the youth and volunteerism. Along with the other trustees of the Liberation War Museum, Tariq Ali bhai gathered hundreds of volunteers of all ages, from different professions. I believe, LWM is one of the few organisations in Bangladesh which promotes volunteerism in large scale. As part of LWM's reach-out programme, Tariq Ali bhai would often accompany moving exhibitions to educational institutions across the country.

Being an LWM volunteer myself, I was fortunate enough to witness his interaction with young people of different ages and social classes. He would stress the importance of volunteerism, the need for learning the proper history and how it shapes our present and future. Thanks to him and other trustees, I was able to participate in a number of enlightening trainings and workshops outside Bangladesh. Such opportunities were always open to many volunteers of the museum.

Tariq Ali bhai encouraged that we learn, get to the know the world more and expand our horizon, so that we would be more accepting of others. He was among the most secular persons I have ever known. And he believed in collaborative efforts among museums or institutions of conscience across the globe in denouncing and mitigating ethnic, religious and racial conflict.

He would always remind us about the four main principles of our Liberation War: secularism, democracy, socialism and nationalism. As much as I knew him, he never stepped away from these principles. To my knowledge, he was not affiliated to any political party, but Tariq Ali bhai was not apolitical. He strongly believed that a party, which truly practices the principles of the Liberation War, could save the country from extremism, religious and ethnic divisiveness. The principles were the key to creating a peaceful, tolerant and equitable society. And that is what he kept emphasizing all through.

He never seemed exhausted from the trips, seminars, events to promote and spread the essence of our Liberation War or the barrage of communications that he had to handle to bring these about. I would often find him in the small office of the LWM in Segunbagicha, long after work hours, working away on some paper, presentation or event. In fact, he would be the first one to get up and get ready for any programme, training and workshop, whether on-site, off-site the museum or abroad.

The last time I met him was in the new and permanent building of the Liberation War Museum in Sher-e-Bangla Nagar. Tariq Ali bhai, along with all the other trustees, staff, workers and volunteers of the museum had worked tirelessly day and night to raise funds for this building which nestles the most precious moments of my country's history.

With his usual smile and nod, he teased me saying I have forsaken the museum, entering its premises after almost five years. I apologised for my absence, for remaining out of touch with the museum's activities. He then said he would come up with something so that I can re-engage with the museum from a distance.

A second meeting never happened. A year passed by, the pandemic came and messed up our lives. I never got to go back to the LWM and had that meeting with Tariq Ali bhai. And now it will never happen. My hero, whom I had the opportunity to meet in person, has travelled to a place of no return. Next time, when I visit the LWM, he will not be there to greet me with a nod and a smile. But if he can hear me, I will say, Tariq bhai, neither I nor all the young people you inspired, can ever forsake the LWM or the dream you have instilled in us to build a society -- harmonious, tolerant and equitable. Rest in peace, Tariq Ali bhai.