It Ends Here

About 12 years ago, I, a naïve 24-year-old, joined the Star as Staff Writer, and now, it is time to bid it a tearful goodbye.

When I first stepped into the three-storied Daily Star office in grungy Karwan Bazaar I did not have any idea about journalism in Bangladesh. I had just returned from Hong Kong, and the only piece of information I had about the Daily Star was that it was the largest circulating English newspaper in the country and its fan following was increasing rapidly.  My first piece (Collecting Past) in the Star was my musings on Dhaka, a requiem for the fading beauty of a city we lovingly call tillottoma, the celestial maiden. As I had joined the young team, I realised sooner rather than later that the SWM (the Star had a different name at that time--the Star Weekend Magazine) had become my home.  

John Keats is right in saying touch has a memory, so have smells and keyboards. During those days we only had two computers on which six people were supposed to work. Save for three of us, everyone had other obligations. Shamim (Ahsan) was a lecturer at a private university, Kajalie (Shehreen Islam), Imran (H Khan) and Elita (Karim) were students, I was teaching English Language and Literature in Master Mind. The magazine part of The Daily Star was a 400-square feet section, which faced the street. At times, it became quite clogged with its staff members, and tension ran high when one of the PCs was declared off-limits as it would from then on was to be used to beautify (read graphics) the magazine.

Shamim resorted to the editorial section, and happy he was for Op-Ed staffs (at that time rather grandly called Point-Counter Point) had a 9-5 shift, and we started work at 3. Mustafa (Zaman) didn't need a computer at all--he was an avid believer in the power of pen and power. So the only PC that we had would now have to be shared by five people–Srabonti (Narmeen Ali), Kajalie, Imran, Elita and I.

To make it even more grievous, all of us used to gather round that lone computer and would gossip for hours on end while the poor writer who was probably writing a cover story on something as important as the grenade attack on Awami League rally seethed in impotent anger. Our photographer at that time was Zahed (I Khan) who had this enviable trait of sexing up even the most mundane events of his life. So on every working day he would turn up with this 'amazing' story of his childhood, and we (including the lucky one sitting at the computer) would listen to him while he went on and on about what he did after he had found a family of owls nesting in his verandah. I soon realised that I could follow Shamim's footstep, and I started to use the computers of the Lifestyle section that were at my disposal. In the new Daily Star Bhaban we all have a PC for each of us, and things are not the same any more.

In the last few years the Star has seen a legion of new writers, and as a magazine it is going through some changes. It now wants to expand its horizon and will handle some new issues that our society is facing. It is indeed interesting to see how the Star handles this transition and I am quite sure, it will remain as popular it is now in its new tabloid format.

The Star has transformed the naïve youngman as a person, and there is no denying that it has taught me to respect journalistic ethics and has injected in me the pride of being a member of The Daily Star. My new assignment in the newspaper is going to be different--no late Tuesday worry about the cover deadline or no idling away Thursdays. But life will not be the same for me, and perhaps it has never meant to be.

twitter: @ahmedehussain