My motherland is celebrating its golden jubilee of independence this year. So, my mind and thoughts are full of joy. I never consider myself a man full of virtues, but a lucky one as I was born in this land, Bangladesh. I have spent most of my life teaching at the college level. As I studied and later taught Geography, I always gave examples to my students about my country. Sometimes, these examples were associated with my village, or, sometimes, those were from different country regions.
Let me get back to the title of the write-up. When I was in class seven, the War of Independence started. As I grew up in a village, I could not give much thought to what war was or who the freedom fighters were during the early days of the war. However, we could realize something had been happening across the country. Since there was no television set in the village in those days, radio became the only medium to get all news. My father had a radio from Philips company. Every day, in the evening, people came to our home to listen to the radio. We used to listen to the valiance of the freedom fighters and get overjoyed to hear the defeat of our foes.
Meanwhile, we knew that the Razakars and the Pak army were preparing to attack the village. Bhawal's Shalban was very close to our house. So, whenever we came to know the news of the arrival of the enemy forces, we would go into hiding into the Shalban to save us from their oppression. We would return home in the evening. Once the village next to ours was burnt down, I had to take shelter at one of our relatives' house near Bhawal Garh for some weeks. Likewise, others of our village would take shelter in their relatives' houses. In fact, all turned relatives to one another in those tumultuous days. During the time, nobody would dare to go to the Bara Bazar, an Upazilla market, for buying anything. If one would go, it became uncertain whether one would return. The Pak Army would capture the villagers while found in the village market and interrogate them to know whether anyone from this village joined the Mukti Bahini. In many cases, the captives would be killed after the interrogation.
However, in the meantime, one or two from our neighbouring villages went to India to join the Mukti Bahini. Although I did not think of going to war because of my age, I was curious to know how one could join the War of Liberation. I can remember very well that meanwhile, some boys of Mukti Bahini entered the village. Many of them were our elder brothers and acquaintances. They used to come to our house almost all the time. One night a group of them came and knocked on my door. I opened the door and saw some elder brothers from our school. After entering the room, they told us to remain silent and not inform anyone that they had come.
They used to call my mother 'aunt.' One of them told me to wake Kakima up. I woke her up. To see their weapons, my mother could not believe her eyes. They asked the mother to give them whatever was in the house to eat. They were hungry. Mother gave them Muri and Pantha rice to eat. They happily ate all these. As soon as they finished eating, they took leave. While leaving, they told me to keep in touch with them and inform them of what was happening in the village. I gave them a positive signal nodding my head. Afterwards, whenever they came to the village, they would shelter in our house.
Later, I tried to keep myself informed about the Mukti Bahini; nevertheless, I, along with my family, often had to go into hiding in fear of Pak attack. I had been a little help for the freedom fighters, though such contribution was trifling for a country.
I got delighted when the country became independent. It was 1972. I cannot remember the particular day or date, or month. However, I can only recollect our school was open that day. We got promoted to class VIII. While going to school, we saw people in groups heading towards our Upazilla. They were chanting slogans with placards and banners in their hands. Suddenly, we knew that Bangabandhu was visiting, but we did not know where he was going. Some of our friends planned to see Bangabandhu. But, it was never possible to bunk the classes. The tiffin period was the only way out. We had to wait until that period started.
Four or five friends started for Kaliakair Upazila. We were not a part of any procession or group. However, we followed them from a distance to find the place. After reaching Kaliakair Bazar, we found many people gathered over there. A mammoth gathering was everywhere. Though it was not a meeting day, a large pandal and a gate were made. People had been waiting on the two sides of Dhaka-Tangail road.
All at once, a convoy of vehicles came following the Dhaka-Tangail road. I said earlier that there were a vast number of people. We were heading towards the cars. A great man with a tall physique got down from a vehicle at that time. He is our father of the nation, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. All were going toward him. Everyone was trying to shake hands with him. He had had handshakes with many people. I went to him and extended my hand to touch his hand. I felt good after I shook my hands with him. Now I understand only a person like him can be a true leader.
So, I am not among the ones who met the father of the nation many times. But, of course, it is pretty natural to write songs, poetry, and stories with a father of any nation. But seeing or touching the father of a nation seems more effortless for those who stay, do politics and work with him. But on the golden jubilee of the independence of our country, I would like to say, though I was not among those who were close to him, I got an opportunity to go near him even for a moment and to touch the father of the nation in the form of a handshake.
The writer is a former professor, Notre Dame College, Dhaka. Now he is a Toronto-based writer and poet.
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