In essence for the professional as well as casual practitioner, life as journalist is like poetry and love. Anyone it touches becomes everlasting captive of its unending charm and enchantment. The morning becomes the day and childhood turns into entire life. Perhaps, this is why after so many years life as part-time journalist at the inception of youth feels so dear and lively. That was the period of learning and absorbing the exciting and varied experiences of cheerful times. That wonderful age easily cast its young and immutable image on the mirror of ageless mind.
'The past', observed the American Nobel laureate William Faulkner, 'is never dead'. In fact, he added, 'It's not even past'. The everlasting truth of the statement comes alive as one recollects the days bygone in black and white. Events form a thrilling montage and emotions, long lost, reappear in full colour. For us, the university students of the early 1960s, the past seems to be part and parcel of our living present. Like reality of all times the campuses of the early 1960s were multi dimensional. So far efforts have been made to capture some of the exciting dimensions such as student politics, romance and campus journalism. Studies which were the prime responsibilities of students had somehow been kept aside.
The prime and central occupation of students was relegated to a back seat in the beginning. During our first year as BA (Hons) student in 1959-60, we were virtually awed by the amazing transformation from the tender to matured teens and the portal of youth. The passage from the college to the university widened the horizon of experience and brought us close to cosmopolitan consciousness. Student politics took us to the frontiers of tumultuous national resistance against mighty military dictatorship.
The first thrill of co-education led to the many splendored world of romance, real or imagined. Then there were the unending hours of chatting with friends, old and new. Madhu's Canteen and the cafeteria and rooms of halls of residence were the magnetic centres of these hours of friendly talks, cultural and literary persuades engaged us in consistence attention and claimed a hefty portion of our time. We often lamented that there were no more than 24 hours in a day. Where then, was the time to respond to the demands of our prime responsibility--studies.
In the beginning that time indeed was in short supply. During university hours it did not seem to matter. Classes were relatively less in number. Sometimes, even the few classes meant to be held on a certain day could not fill the quota as the relevant teacher was away because of illness or other business. For us the students of social sciences and humanities, the old arts building was formally the hub of our studies. It was true for most of us during the classes.
The off periods were, however, not all studies. Many of us believed that all studies and no play 'made jack a dull boy'. Our endeavours to be smart, therefore, took the shape of adda (small talks) in Madhu's Canteen or loitering on the sliver of grassy land or corridors of the arts building to have glimpses of girl students attired in muticoloured saris or dresses. Sometimes, some of us went and spoke with some of them tracing frail links of academic, social or cultural activities.
Several girls of our batch have already been mentioned. Among them were Rownak Jahan and Farida Khanum of political science, Zakia and Sayeda Umme Sufia (Salma) of English, Farida Sheikh of sociology, Nilufar of Bangla, Mehrunnesa and Khaletun of economics. Lissom, fair and glamorous Nishat Sadhani of English was smart and charming. Daughter of the head of the department of Persian Professor Anadalib Sadhani, she easily attracted wide attention. There were others such as Niaz Ali, later Zaman of English, Hasin Ara (China), Hamida Ali (bhabi) and Himu of Bangla, Mahmuda, singer Anjuman Ara and Waseka of sociology. With these girls we had occasions to have friendly talks and discussions about studies or cultural matters.
We also had interesting and eliminating conversations with those who were one year senior to us. Among them were Khaled Shams, later a distinguished civil servant and deputy managing director, Grameen Bank, popular singer Syed Abdul Hadi, AK Firoz Ahmed, Syed Farooq Sobhan, later ambassador and foreign secretary, and Riaz Rahman, who also became ambassador and foreign secretary of Bangladesh, and Nehal Wares Khan who later became a member of the CSP. Among the girls who were our immediate senior were famous singer Ferdousi Begum, later Rahman, Asma Chowdhury, later Abbasi, who became a well-known writer, Rafat Ara Din and Lazima Karim. Then there was Sabia Begum, a jovial lady who became married to AMA Muhith, now the finance minister of Bangladesh.
Our first year came to a close by the rains of 1960. A new batch of teenagers crowded the corridors of the arts building and science campus in the Curzon Hall. Among the boys were AKM Jalaluddin, the first boy in the 1960s IA examinations, Mohammad Farashuddin and Rashed Khan Menon, Haider Akbar Khan Rano, Ataur Rahman Saju, Shamsul Huda, NM Harun, Shah Husain Imam Buli and Quazi Anwarul Masud. All of them later became prominent figures in the Bangladesh society. We had close association and interaction with them in student's political and cultural activities.
Among the girls who came to the university that year were Farida Osman later Haque, Salma Akbar later Rahman, Nilu, Dilara and Nazia Hossain. They, like most of the girls of our times, were not only good-looking and charming but also talented and articulate. I got to meet Farida and Salma in lively debates and speech competitions in which they participated with zeal and enthusiasm. They also won quite a few prizes and became prominent in our circle.
Meeting with Dilara was another matter. Lean and supple, she was standing in the verandah upstairs of the commerce building on a late summer afternoon. Friend Aga Kohinoor Alam waved at her and told me, 'She is of our locality, Bakhshibazar and called Renu'. Dilara, by a spectacular turn of events, was married within a few months of her entry into the university to political science teacher Dr GW Chowdhury. Naturally this became the talk of the town in those days. Farida and Salma later became teachers in government colleges. Dilara Chowdhury became a University professor in Jahangirnagar University and North South University. Nazia went for higher studies in the United Kingdom during the early 1970s when I was studying for PhD in London. Nazia now lives and works in England.
Political and cultural activities along with ceaseless hours of adda (friendly chats) took a heavy toll on our time. A few of my classmates such as Ataur Rahman Khan Kaiser, Abul Monjoor, Jahangir Mohammad Jashim and Aga Kohinoor Alam were so busy with political, cultural, recreational or sports activities that we came to treat textbook studies as a neglected step-child. We often skipped classes to give time to extracurricular activities.
At home also more time was spent on books which were not prescribed as texts. The arts building was home to the old library. It was downstairs in a dark and damp portion of the building and had a subterranean look. I remember having stepped into the library once or twice and felt so revolted by the surroundings that I did not have the desire to enter it any more.
In fact, during the next three years of my life as student of Dhaka University, I did not step into it another time. Class friend Jahangir Mohammad Jashim was the son of the chief engineer of the university Mr Dabir Uddin Ahmed. He, like the professors, was entitled to draw 24 books a week from the university library. Just before our Honours and MA examinations, Jahangir used to get books for us from the library to help us with our preparations. This is, however, a later story.
Dr Mizanur Rahman Shelley, founder Chairman of Centre for Development Research (CDRB), and former technocrat Cabinet Minister of Bangladesh, died on August 12, 2019. He contributed his writeups to the Daily Observer which are being published regularly as "The Symphony of Our Times".
