My first contact with Dacca (now Dhaka) commenced sometime in 1970 when Bangladesh was in the making and the liberation struggle was in full throttle. As a University student, particularly pursuing history, doubled my passion for the liberation movement. Thanks also to Betar Bangla and All India Radio (AIR) for aggressive and motivating stream of news to update us with the fierce clashes between the freedom fighters and the oppressive occupied Pakistani forces. I was sufficiently stirred and driven to passion of extremity promoting me to join the liberation forces in Dhaka.
But that was not to be yet I remained a 'gayabana' Mukti Joddha in the city of Allahabad organizing public opinion, taking out processions supporting the freedom fighters, writing posters in favor of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman who was then in Mianwalli prison in Pakistan. All in our family had learnt Mujib's Independence speech by heart and we all could produce it instantly leaving a profound impact on the listeners. His recording was a mantra to us and steadily I started getting gravitated towards Bangladesh.
In brief, it was love at first sight. I don't know if genes play any part in getting emotionally linked to a place which one hasn't seen as yet but in my case it seemed possible. My nana (maternal grandfather), late Rai Bahadur AD Banarji and my uncle (father's elder brother) late Shri Girijapati Mukharji were both civil servants of repute and were specially commissioned to oversee relief operations caused by infamous Bengal famine of 1943. One was SDO Madaripur while the other was DM Nadia and Jessore.
They recounted Bengal days with great nostalgia. It is equally interesting to mention that my great grandfather, Late Shri Gopal Chatterjee (my grandma's father), was one time Superintendent of the Mitford Hospital in Dacca. So there was more than adequate association of my ancestors with Dhaka.
History was on course. Bangladesh became an independent country in 1971 and after completing my studies almost at the same time, I joined the Police Services. When I was only a few years old in active policing, I was selected for a three year assignment in Dhaka (1981-'84). I was barely 30 and accompanied by my wife Suita, and two and a half year old daughter Anamika, flew from Calcutta airport en route to Dhaka.
I had a special excitement with butterflies in the stomach in run up to my new responsibilities. Genetically driven happenings have now completed a full cycle. My ancestors had been to this Shonar Bangla since long and I was ordained to serve this country. From the window of the plane I could see green and green and green again all the way. Deb Dulal Bandopadhyay's baritone commentary during the liberation war echoed in my ears in good measure. Looking down the green fields, I imagined the bloody skirmishes that ensued on these lands hardly a few years ago. The brutal excesses perpetrated by Pakistani army, specially violating women and killing thousands of innocents, kept coming to my mind.
Mujib's assassination, most cowardly, with most of his family members in 1975, always troubled me thinking how a person of that stature could be exterminated in such a grotesque manner by his own people he loved so much. As my thinking marched forward, I made friends with a fellow passenger called Sheikh Maroof , young man and importantly nephew of Bangabandhu. I took some briefings from him on Dos and Don'ts in Dhaka.
Indian High Commission in Dhaka was a huge diplomatic mission with several wings. Essentially, I was detailed for physical security of the mission, but that being not a full time job, I handled a variety of desks including Consular, Culture, education, administration et al. Such wide range of responsibilities exposed me to a number of Dhaka-based people with whom I still cherish my friendship though it's now more than 36 years since I joined Dhaka.
I was fortunate to have professional police friends lending support to my security linked job. EA Choudhury, IG, AR Khondokar, Commissioner DMP, Abul Khair Mosleuddin, Additional IG and Gholam Morshed DIG Special Branch were the closest security professionals I interacted with, and they ensured that we received full protection.
On the cultural side, singers Firoza Begum, Sabina Yasmin , Shahnaj Rahmatullah , Kalim Sharafi , Laila Hasan , Ferdousi Rahman and many were in my close circuit of cultural activities. Budding artists, then raring to go to Shantiniketan, included Rezwana Chaudhuri Bonnya, Mridul Kanti Chakrabarti, Tapan Baidya and Saadi who often held cultural sessions. On the drama side, Ramendu Majumdar, Ferdousi Majumdar, Syed Shamshul Haq, Aly Zaker, Sara Zaker, Asaduzzaman Noor are worth a mention for their untiring efforts in educating us in their respective fields.
Nearly four years of my Dhaka posting went past like a jiffy. My stay in Dhaka was so enriching and I made such good friends. From Poet Shamshur Rahman to pop singer Ferdous Wahed, from newscasters Shamim Ahmed and Rokiya Haidar to the Swamiji of Ramakrishna Mission. The list is endless.
It was perhaps Almighty's will or I was ordained to carry forward the tasks began by my forefathers before the partition. Love and emotion have no geographical boundaries. Having done a number of overseas postings yet, Bangladesh remains the best as I befriended many and was completely exposed to Bangla culture and literature. My friends there are permanent and they are my biggest Fixed Deposits. I continue to draw interest from my investments.
During my stay, I witnessed several historical events unfolding. Major incidents like Hasina's homecoming , Zia's assassination, (also killing of freedom fighter Maj Gen Manzoor of 24 Div) Ershad's entry into politics preceded by a Martial Law, and succeeded by formation of a political party and cleverly usurping power. I also found it intriguing to see that an officer, who stayed back in Pakistan after liberation and got repatriated only in 1973, was placed at the helm and decided the further course of happenings.
Bangladesh memories are my biggest asset and as I approach the evening of my life, Dhaka memories tend to give pleasant feelings whenever I rewind the unforgettable days I spent there. The writer is a retired Indian Police Service (IPS) officer and a freelance writer. The views expressed here are his own
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