The best part about Independence Day to me is the night before when the survivors and the witnesses from the war relive the moments and share them with the world. I was watching people like Shireen Haq and Sultana Kamal on television last night and was listening to what they had to say.
More than what they had to say, what intrigued me was what their eyes had to say instead. When
My imagination, which sometimes crosses its own limits, led me to actually see reflections of houses burning, people running away, murder and rape in their eyes – all the more vibrant, expressive and scared.
Lighting a candle for each martyr is probably not enough. But I have so much to be thankful for:
But I have so much to be thankful for:
- three meals a day
- a roof on my head
- the option to choose my way of life (well…..)
- spending a holiday doing absolutely nothing
- taking life for granted
And so much more.
This write up might not make much sense to some, but I was just writing down my thoughts, trying to figure out what I would have done if I were a child of the 70’s and watched my family being dragged to the hell hole, screaming and crying and scared and absolutely pathetic. I guess you would need more strength to watch a loved one suffer and rather take it on yourself.
Nonetheless, the spirits of those are in fact walking around, at least I believe they are, watching us, listening to us speak, in fact even watching me write this silly entry. Maybe they are even screaming, trying to stop those who are corrupting and re-writing history.
I walk free and question those who block my path, not that I get an answer, but I still ask.
For an independent Bangladesh, on its 36th year: March 26, 2007.