Buku I Remember Abbu by Humayun Azad

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I Remember Abbu by Humayun Azad

Author:Humayun Azad [Azad, Humayun]

Language: eng

Format: epub

ISBN: 9781542042420

Publisher: Amazon Crossing

Published: 2019-04-22T16:00:00+00:00

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I Remember Abbu by Humayun Azad

March Is the Cruelest Month

Abbu wrote, Revolution comes to our land along with spring in February. Winter recedes, old leaves fall. New foliage and flowers pierce the bone-dry branches to be born. Rebellion arrives, and with it, revolution.

I began to be happier from the day the flag was flown. Ammu no longer turned into a fairy and left every morning. Whenever I climbed into Abbu’s arms on the balcony, I could see people and more people. I don’t think I have ever seen so many humans together since then. And the shouts, “Victory to Bangla!”

 

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I Remember Abbu by Humayun Azad

Author:Humayun Azad [Azad, Humayun] , Date: June 12, 2019

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Author:Humayun Azad [Azad, Humayun]

Language: eng

Format: epub

ISBN: 9781542042420

Publisher: Amazon Crossing

Published: 2019-04-22T16:00:00+00:00
March Is the Cruelest Month

Abbu wrote, Revolution comes to our land along with spring in February. Winter recedes, old leaves fall. New foliage and flowers pierce the bone-dry branches to be born. Rebellion arrives, and with it, revolution.

I began to be happier from the day the flag was flown. Ammu no longer turned into a fairy and left every morning. Whenever I climbed into Abbu’s arms on the balcony, I could see people and more people. I don’t think I have ever seen so many humans together since then. And the shouts, “Victory to Bangla!”

Abbu’s diary was filling up with acts of revolution. Abbu wrote:

March 3, 1971

Thousands of people with sticks and rods are marching from every direction toward Road No. 32 in Dhanmondi, with earsplitting cries of “Victory to Bangla.” But will they receive wise counsel there, or will the rebellion of millions falter? I do not think it will fail. Bengalis have grown as fearless as tigers. Mobs have surrounded the Pakistani military in Tejgaon. They are attacking the army in Sylhet. They are battling soldiers in Kumilla. Fires are raging everywhere. All that remains is for everything to be burned down.

Maulana Bhashani held a meeting in Paltan today, stoking the flames burning within everyone. Our veteran leader has hinted at independence. But the center of all attention today is No. 32. People will come back in a few days from No. 32 with either success or failure.

March 7, 1971

An enormous platform has been erected at the racecourse. All the leaders are gathered there. The Ramna Racecourse is the Bay of Bengal today, with all the rivers of Bangla flowing into it. There are roaring voices all around. Processions are arriving from every direction. Students are streaming in from schools and colleges and universities. Laborers are marching from Adamjee and Demra, from Tejgaon and Tongi. The leather workers are here, the garment workers are here, the peasants are here. Victory to Bangla. Victory to Bangla. Victory to Bangla.

The same cry reverberates from one parade to the next. Will the army attack us? A helicopter flies overhead. We are frightened. Then we overcome our fear. Everyone is saying the Pakistani military has turned into a toothless tiger. Is this true?

What is this roar that Sheikh Mujibur Rahman has just let out? All of Bangladesh is in his heart today. It is the collective war cry of Bangla that has come from him, spreading out over the racecourse to the public library, to the Faculty of Arts, to the High Court, to Ramna Park, before crossing the river and Tongi to travel everywhere, across the entire land. Schools are closed. Colleges are closed. Universities are closed. Banks are closed. Offices are closed. And if even a single shot is fired . . .

Sheikh Mujib’s warning to Pakistan fires us up. Will he announce our independence today? Our hearts are in turmoil. Will he prove revolutionary enough to make the declaration right now? The public is ready for it. They will rush to Tejgaon the moment it is made, just as they did in ’69.

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