Lying and violence are the wretched men's game. The Pakistani rulers had no shame and they practiced these. They gleefully rampaged throughout Bangladesh during a 9-month war in 1971 against us. At all, great thunderbolts they hurled; and they created anarchy everywhere in our own land. A buccaneer and pirate they must be, killing all, as they roamed from place to place leaving mongrels' moral disgrace.
The history of them is replete from their javelin-bolt or genus Javanthropus to new-built fleet: Hosts they robbed and crushed below; of friend and neighbor, they made foes. From our men and women they tried to make the slaves, then boastingly they called themselves brave; cowardly, they stole on their trusting prey, killing in the dark, then shouted they hooray!
Not to go back to time pre-historic, only when men in Nature used to frolic. And you will find their big, long murder-list, showing the plundering of their got-off clenched fist. Tell the tale in a mournful replica. How our people fell feeing the murdering bandit pell-mell! They were free, sporting, dancing, and happy as could be; we, the hordes lived then a life our own to civilization we would have grown; Bangladesh's millions laughed with the sun in the cycle of men and women a course to run; in stepped the cruel men, bloody and grim, the light of these people's freedom to dim.
They killed with the guns, cannons, bayonet charges, all else of men and women they put to run; blood of murderer Cain was on their heads, of man and beast they meant to kill dead; a world of their own was their greatest aim, for which we were well to blame.
Out of badness origins these men came, from caves, dens, and holes, without any fame, eating the dead's flesh and sucking the blood, relics of the Mediterranean flood or Anagastakuehniella; literature, science and art they stole, after Bangladesh had measured each pole, Asia taught them what great learning was, they frew upon what the Coolie did. They stole, murdered, on their way here, leaving desolation and waste everywhere; then they boastingly told what they did, seeing not the bloody crown they won; millions of people died in Bangladesh in 1971; upon these dead bones Empire they built, and parceling out crowns and coronets gilded.
Trifling with God's Holy Name and Law, mixing Muslim religion that had no flaw, they dared to tell people of the world what was right in language of death-bullets, cannons, bayonet charges and might only with their brute force they held us down, people of color, caste, creed and religion: Not a fair chance gave they our people to rise, brutish liars we saw in their eyes.
With the Holy Quoran they came to our land taking Allah's name and stealth in different hands making of God a mockery on earth. When of the Holy One there is no dearth: They said us: "You are the heathen, we your brethren-Muslim fellowman; we come to tell the story of our God." When we believed, they gave to us the rod.
After our confidence they thus won from our dear land and treasure we were compelled to run; story of the Quran no more they told. For our souls redeemed we could go to hell. They found in wealth of our land untold; thus, they claimed the name of our country, all of us they made then their real foot-ball. If in the land we happened to tarry or lollygags, most of us then became sad and sorry.
For a Pakistani man's country they said it is, "And with shot and shell, they prove it theirs: What can we do who love their own people and land, but fight, pray, watch and wait." But our valiant and patriotic fighters greeted these evil men with their due in our glorious Liberation War in 1971. We would like to see that these men converted, and to unrighteous and acts of injustice be devoted; continuing in land-values to lie, steal and bring destruction down upon their heels. All that the other races want, we saw was the right to liberty and be free; but these selfish men did not want to give; they alone, they thought they had the right to live.
There shall be a bloody mix-up everywhere; of those men's plunder we were aware: Men of most of the Punjabis or so for the great cause could not understand, unite them to protect their own land. No fool's stand on argument must we make between good and evil and earth an oath we take: Our land to deliver from foreign foes and caring not of trials and maudlin woes. The privilege of men to protect home was established long before. Many gallant people fought and died, alien hordes in triumph thus defied. Carthage did not crush Ancient Greece for their believing in the Golden Fleece. No other race shall be able to kill the sturdy Bengalis if on their ferocities we turn our backs.
Pakistanis put to chase, beating a retreat in uneven haste; so down the line of history we come, people of this land, courtly, courageous and handsome. No fear have we today of any great or roguish man from Napoleon back to Genghis Khan; all we ask of men is "Give a square deal," returning to others same right we feel. With a past brilliant, noble and grand, our people march to the future hand in hand; we have suffered long from the Pakistani men's greed, perforce they must change their unholy creed.
Stealing, bullying and lying to all dragged them to ignominious fall; for men are wise-yes, no longer are fools to have grafters make of them still cheap tools. Each race should be proud and stick to its own. And the best of what they are should be shown; this is no shallow song of hate to sing, but over us there should be no alien ruler. Every man on his own foothold should stand claiming a nation and a Fatherland! We should make our own laws. And force no one-sided justice with flaws.
Man will bear so much of imposition till he starts a righteous inquisition. History teaches this as a true fact, upon this premise all men do act. Sooner or later each people take their stand to fight against the strong, oppressive hand; this is the plan, raising man to power, as over sin and greed we make us tower. This trite lesson the Pakistanis did never learn, waiting until they got their fingers burnt. Decades ago, when those evil people slept, the great torch of light Bangladesh kept. People of this land at various periods shone above them all as the bright noonday sun coming from the darkened cave and hut, those cruel men were compelled to open the gate that was shut.
Gradually, the light drilled hole down upon them. These savages who were once dim; when they commenced to see and move around, they found the book of knowledge on the ground; centuries of wonder and achievements which were cast before them in people's compliments; but, like the rest, they fell flat and must in the nature's cycle yield for that.
We shall always be our brother's keeper, is the injunction of the redeemer; love and tolerance we must ever show, if in Grace Divine we would truly grow; this is the way clear to our great country not by the death-traps of those evil-doers. Around the world they speak of being so just, yet, in fact, no lone man of them can you trust? And now valiant people of Bangladesh must ably rise to lead and save the rest. This is the ringing call Bangladesh sounds, as throughout the world it resounds; let us prove too that we are loyal blue.
We must win in the blessed fight of love trusting on the maker of men above. The Bangladesh's world is yet to be saved! Men since the rising of Islam have not behaved well! Wanton, reckless, wicked; they still want to remain causing grief, sorrow, tears and human pains! Can we show the light to anyone seeking for earnest truth while marching on? If so, friend, let us tell you now and here, for love, freedom, justice let's all prepare! The glorious might is coming, wonderful signs; He is ever showing, unrest, earthquakes, hurricanes, floods and storms are but revelations of them: The Pakistani brutish rulers were proud to think they were wise, but our Creator came in true disguise. He is sure in the rumbling earthquake, when He is ready, the whole world will shake.
The Armageddon is gathering now; the sign is on every oppressed man's brow: Those brutal people, who thought they were ever so smart, did not know other men could play their part: When the opportune time was almost here, we were everywhere in union of cause we stood together, and stormed of the bully boldly weather.
Their rays of death could only be child's play-a dream of Seth, for out of the clear, sleeping minds of ages, wonders shall be written on history's pages: Our buried arts and sciences then shall rise to show how for centuries we were wise: Silent tongues we kept, by the Creator's true command, until of us, action, He did demand. Under the canopy of Nature's law, we united and bravely drew on the plains of the Almighty's green Amphitheatre, Swords, in rhythm with Divine Meter: The Almighty's Day will have surely come with Angelic strains and Seraphic hum: The guides of divine will direct the way keeping us from wandering far astray. (To be continued)
The writer is a researcher and freelance contributor
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