When we dead awaken*

Published on

Close to noon, while I grope for colours to paint my Bangladesh, I look at a daily that habitually sells well with Boschian human deformities and negative news, and I smile. On 21 July 2006 – 35 years, seven months from when we first happened – Bangladesh has covered the graph from all angles, and has ended up being a positive quotient in most of its challenging equations. It is not the line that identifies us today, it is the people here who sketch the character of the land. Perhaps a cartoon by 'Ranabi', from way back on 9 January 1971, best explains the psyche of the people's power in Bangladesh.

The cartoon's aptly captioned: Protiggya Nobayon, and it stands for renewing a pledge. The map boasts of a strong fist, shooing the profiteers, black marketers and smugglers away from the land, while the people, barefoot and lungi-clad, are positioned in their soon-to-be-won freedom land – Bangladesh. We had won or, to say the least, we had bought our right to independence at the cost of our blood, sweat and tears.

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Himal Southasian
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