Archive - Jan 17, 2014

[justify]The posts collaborated here are the translations of eye witness accounts of the 1971 liberation war and independence of Bangladesh, from the book - ১৯৭১: ভয়াবহ অভিজ্ঞতা (1971: Dreadful Experiences).

Face to Face With Death

-Maqid Haider
Poet; Public Relations Officer, Bangladesh Small and Cottage Industries Corporation (BSCIC), Dhaka

If only they had looked up, it would have been certain death for my mother and me.

April 10, I still cannot clearly grasp everything from that afternoon on that fateful day in ’71. I cannot say for certain how long the two of us had waited facing death that day. The realization that we had escaped death took some time to sink in.

The Uncertain Journey

- Tahmina Zaman
Educator; Story writer; Assistant Professor, Home Economics College, Dhaka
Current Location: Syracuse, New York, USA

It was well past sunset, but we hadn't realized it, since all the doors and windows were shut tight. A bunch of us were confined under a bed since earlier in the day. This was the beginning of April, 1971, we were surrounded by death.

The sunny, beautiful afternoon turned into a horrific evening as several Sabre Jets were flying over us. Till then we had no idea what was about to happen. I was just about to feed my 8 month old baby. After feeding him a few teaspoons of milk, I was about to give him some more, and then…my hand shook fiercely and the spoon dropped. A terrible noise broke out that shook the entire house. The tin walls of the house rattled loudly. All of us in that room were stunned. No one made a peep of a sound, there was only fear and anxiety in our eyes. What was about to happen? The scared little baby in my arms buried his face in my chest.

Right Before My Eyes

-Ahmed Bashir
Novelist, Dhaka

On the 7th of April, we came from Moghbazar to Puran Dhaka (Old Dhaka). There was an eerie silence in Moghbazar area by then. It felt like a ghost town - desolate and deserted. From time to time we could hear the sound of Azaan from the mosque next to our house. It felt as if the sound melted itself with the smell of gunpowder.

In Front of the Loved Ones

- Nazma Begum
Housewife, Dhaka

26 March 1971, Bangladesh Water Development Board, O&M Circle, Sylhet. We used to live in the Superintendent Engineer’s house. I had sent Tajul Islam, our servant, to bring some eggs for breakfast that morning. He returned with the news that a curfew had been declared and a rickshaw-puller and a local betel-leaf seller had been shot to death by the Pakistani soldiers. A little later we observed from our balcony that many people gathered at a place called Maniratila. I wondered what the gathering was about. How many were being shot to death by the barbaric aggressor army? We were panic-stricken and remained at home. Curfew was being enforced in Sylhet from dawn to dusk almost everyday. Hence, people had much difficulty with their everyday lives. My husband, shaheed Altaf Hossain would do some grocery for our daily meals every evening after the curfew was lifted. Our lives carried on like this.