On a night of the late autumn
Only a stone’s throw way
Dipon lies in the morgue
And the three of us still breathe
In the heaven of emergency ward.
It was the first day of November.
Runa carefully took my wired hands, and mildly pressing them in hers, whispered
into my ears- ‘They’ve killed Dipon Bhai.’ I simply stared at her in disbelief. She
repeated, ‘Yesterday, around this time. In Aziz
market, in his office. Maybe he was alone. When his father saw the news about
your having been attacked, he called Dipon, but there was no response. They had
to break the door to find
out …’
We were still in the emergency
ward. I remembered I was supposed to go to Aziz supermarket the day before. I
didn’t go there much anymore. The autumn
book fair was supposed to start on the fifth. It had been a few years since it
was first started by the publishers of Aziz Market. My office was in Aziz
Market at that time. Two people who took the main initiative to first organize
this fair were Professor Serajul Islam Chowdhury of Polol Prokashani and Dipon
of Jagriti. The first Autumn book fair was inaugurated by Serajul Islam
Chowdhury, and I was the one to host the programme. Like many others, I was
forced to leave Aziz in order to make room for the thriving clothes business,
but I was still known as a publisher of Aziz Market.
I had spoken to Mahbub Bhai only
two days ago regarding the upcoming book fair. I said I would meet them at Aziz
on Saturday. I had sent a text message to Runa saying the same. I thought this
would be a good opportunity to see all the other publishers. Both Mahbub Bhai
and Dipon Bhai were leading publishers based in Aziz supermarket, though their
horizon extend outside Aziz as well. Recently Selim Bhai of Utshob, too, had
stepped into a leading position.
Runa’s words kept going round and round in my head
without making much sense. I had been to Dhaka Medical College very few times
in my entire life. I had first become familiar to the emergency department of
this hospital on the 26th of February last year. I became familiar
with the morgue too. I was thinking the only thing that stood between me and
the morgue was the corridor outside the window. Ah! I am still alive, in this
heaven of the emergency department while Dipon Bhai has been lying in the
morgue since last night. Just then it dawned upon me that I had survived a
fatal attack. In my heart I apologized to Dipon, I felt embarrassed and ashamed
for being still alive.
Dipon Bhai was a good organizer. He
had big dreams and plans for publishing business in Bangladesh. He was a
director to two publishers’ organizations. I vividly remember
our informal meetings about issues related to publishing. Actually, for the
past few years we, the publishers of Aziz Market, had been dreaming of opening
a separate market for only book stalls. We had been trying to acquire a piece
of land from Dhaka University for this purpose. There had been discussions on
starting a course in publishing in Dhaka University. And in all this, Dipon
Bhai was one of the pioneers. It was his dream to organize book fairs all over
the country. He wanted to bring publishers together to stand against corruption
in regards to the purchase of books for government libraries.After Abhijit had
been hacked to death, we wanted to close the Ekushe book fair to observe a
symbolic protest for half an hour. We went from stall to stall- Dipon Bhai,
Robin Bhai, Mahbub Bhai, and I- but had very little response from other
publishers. Dipon Bhai was heartbroken at this lack of cooperation from the
publishers’ organizations and leaders.
It seems only a few days ago that
the doctor at the emergency department asked me, ‘How are you related to the patient?’‘He is my friend,’ I replied, and the doctor gently
touched my shoulder, ‘I’m
Sorry!’ I asked for
permission to see him once. I stood speechless as I
placed my hand on Abhijit’s motionless chest. Coming out of the hospital, I
called Dipon Bhai, and he cried in disbelief ‘What are you saying?’
And then came November
first. I wished to say, ‘Dipon Bhai, may I put my hand on your chest for a few
minutes?’
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