Story:
I was born in 1929 in Tuthamandra, a village in Faridpur District. My father was a farmer, and my mother was a highly educated woman who guided me in education. It was after my father’s sudden death, due to malaria, that the responsibility of running the family fell upon me. I specialise in Sanskrit and have undertaken many social movements. In our home in Faridpur, 150 members of my family lived under the same roof. My school was two miles away from our home. During the rainy season, our modes of transportation included boats and steamers. For the usual commute, walking on foot was preferred. Football was my favourite sport, and I played in the school teams as a student and a teacher. The high school in which I studied provided a secular atmosphere. I had record marks in mathematics and remember a dear friend whose name was Abhinash. Rashmol Saha was my favourite teacher, and the necessity of getting an education was mostly emphasised by society at that time.
Starting in the eighth grade, I became a member of an Ambedkar association which led a movement against caste-dominated society, on behalf of the backward classes. Gender relations were complicated. Interaction between men and women was not allowed, except within the family, and women did not interact with strangers. The caste system was openly prevalent, and people from lower castes were continually oppressed. I was humiliated by my uncle’s friend’s wife once because I belonged to a lower caste. I was told to wash my own utensils and was insulted. I protested against such a treatment and never went to their home thereafter. Postal service and telegram were the two major modes of communication. I encountered many English officials in those days, but cannot recall their names.
In 1947, when Independence took place and the land was partitioned, I was 18 years old. The news of Partition reached us through a local newspaper. Since I was actively involved in politics and had participated in many nationalist movements, some mobs decided to attack me. It was the year 1948 when I first became the target of communalism. Irfan, one of my loyal friends, informed me about the matter and urged me to flee from Faridpur. It was via Barisal (also spelled as Barishal) that I reached Petrapole (India border checkpoint), near Bongaon and registered my name in the refugee camp. My arrival and the situation of the refugees was pathetic. I stayed in India for a year and served as a member of the refugee camp, escorting hundreds of refugees from the border of East Pakistan.
I visited the Sealdah South lines which had become the hub of the refugees. The platform was overcrowded, and infants cried for food. On my way to India, I saved a girl from a gang of mobs who were trying to abuse her. In 1949, I travelled back to East Pakistan, but the atmosphere was no longer the same. Many people from my village had migrated to India, and in our place, many new people had settled. I shudder when I remember the day I was returning from Barisal to Faridpur – a steamer from the border of India to Barisal had reached, carrying the corpses of men. We learned that miscreants had attacked the steamer and slaughtered these men.
After completing my graduation from Kumarganj College, West Bengal, I served as a school teacher in various schools in Bangladesh and India. I adopted many boys and girls and funded their livelihood, and many among them have established themselves well in their respective careers. In 1950, a terrific famine struck Khulna, which I witnessed myself. I saw infants breastfeed upon the corpses of their mothers. Men and women became so famished that their bodies shrunk to mere skeletons. I started a campaign, supplying the impacted people with food and other basic necessities.
In 1953, I tied the knot with my now-late wife, Binodini Hira. My wife and I worked in the same school as teachers and did social welfare work as well. During Durga Puja, we both distributed garments among the poor. In 1961, a riot in Faridpur between the Hindus and Muslims set a charged atmosphere. Mujibur Rahman, the founder of the People’s Republic of Bangladesh, was a well-known friend of mine. During the situation, I lost my friend, and one of my brothers was shot, which injured his chin. I was charged in the riots wrongly, which made me leave Faridpur to escape the police force who were trying hard to arrest me. In 1971, I was in India when Bangladesh was created. I remember the day when I saw Indira Gandhi on the Petrapole border of Bongaon. I recall seeing the soldiers parading in Bongaon, the sounds of gun shells, and the day when A. A. K. Niazi, the last Governor of East Pakistan, surrendered before General Manekshaw, the then Chief of the Army Staff, and Bangladesh was created.
Today, I reside in Barasat, West Bengal. I have three sons. I feel that politics made the country pay a hefty price with Partition. I condemn religious and caste discrimination because humanity is not defined by religion or caste. To me, Hindu, Muslim, Brahmin (Hindu priest upper-caste), or Shudra (Hindu worker lower-caste), are all humans and possess the same blood and are the children of the same mother.
