Thursday | 16 January 2025 | Reg No- 06
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Thursday | 16 January 2025 | Epaper

A great hand on a little head

Published : Wednesday, 17 March, 2021 at 12:00 AM  Count : 784
Chinmay Prasun Biswas
In the history of Bangladesh, 1970 is a turning point and deeply associated with the emergence of Bangladesh. After long struggle of more than fifteen years, general election was held in Pakistan in December 1970. Awami League led by Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman won 167 seats out of 169 allotted for East Pakistan. In 1970 I was a teenager of 12, a student of class eight in St Joseph's High School, Khulna. My father was a junior officer of State Bank of Pakistan. By virtue of it we resided at State Bank Officers' Quarters at Rupsha, Khulna.  

 It was not at all possible for a boy of 12 to understand politics but I overheard political discussions of seniors. In 1970 television very rare outside Dacca and in Khulna there was no television. The only way to know national and international news was newspaper. At that age it was not possible to read English newspapers like The Pakistan Observer or The Morning News. Bengali newspaper the Daily Purbadesh was kept at our house. Communication between Dacca and Khulna was not at all developed. Newspaper came to Jessore by air and by bus from Jessore to Khulna. People of Khulna received newspaper at afternoon. In case of any mechanical or natural trouble we had to wait till the next day for newspaper.

 However, from newspaper I could know something but it was not possible at boyhood to understand everything, the only thing I knew that a vote will be held on 7th December, 1970. There were leaders of other parties but from newspaper I could know the names of Sheikh Mujib, Maulana Bhashani and Bhutto. I heard that boat means Awami League. I can't remember who was the candidate from Awami League in Khulna, but there was one candidate, Mr Abul Hasan from Ayub Khan's Convention Muslim League with cycle. People of Khulna knew it because a power lit bicycle was placed on the roof of his four storied Shaheen Hotel at Khulna.   

 Just in earlier year Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was awarded the title Bangabandhu by people and students but in 1970 he was popularly known as Sheikh Shaheb or Sheikh Mujib. He travelled everywhere of East Pakistan seeking vote for Awami League in upcoming election.  Probably he was the only leader who visited the remotest corners of the then East Pakistan. As a part of election campaign he came to Khulna. I can't remember the date but the time was late November of 1970. His public meeting was scheduled at Circuit House Ground. Being too little I was not allowed to attend that meeting but I came to know that he would stay at Rupsha Rest House. It was (and still is) a rest house of government officers adjacent to our quarter having a common boundary wall. We frequently sat on the wall and jumped on the ground of that rest house for collecting (please red--stealing) rangan flower and guavas.    

However, Sheikh Shaheb came to the rest house with many people around him. Naturally, like many others, I had a keen interest to see him. There was no exaggeration of security probably because he believed that people of Bengal can do no harm to him. Nobody inspired nor instigated me. Simply out of curiosity I, along with another friend of mine, climbed on the boundary wall and found Sheikh Shaheb, holding that famous pipe in right hand, talking with other persons on the premises of that rest house. All of them wore that same sleeveless black coat but it was not at all difficult to recognise Sheikh Mujib because many times I saw his photograph on pages of newspaper.

 My intention to see him at a glance was fulfilled but just then another idea crept up in my mind. Instantly, without thinking anything more, I jumped from the boundary wall and piercing the circle of those elderly persons and I appeared in front of Sheikh Mujib. After many days I came to know that he liked children and probably for this reason his birthday is observed as National Children's Day. I experienced it directly at the age of 12. Probably others were annoyed to disturb him in that moment of crisis but he did feel disturbed and did not rebuke me. Rather, with his orotund tone asked, "Which class?"  Not a difficult question at all. I replied, "Class eight." He put his hand on my head and shook gently. Everything happened within just a few seconds. With an elated sense of victory I came back and sat on the boundary wall. Even after fifty years I feel the warmth of that great hand on my little head.    
The writer is a former Commissioner of Taxes





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