Baba didn't bow down despite brutal torture

In two days, Bangladesh will enter its 54th year of independence. In the last 53 years, the firm commitments, satisfaction, honor, and respect of the martyred freedom fighters of 1971, martyred intellectuals, heroes, war-wounded freedom fighters, and the relatives of the martyred families wandered around the vortex of politics. How much did the people of Bangladesh learn about the brave, heroic stories? How much holding the red-green flag! How much you can understand the pain of the relatives of the martyrs fighting for survival! How much does the insult and neglect of Birangonas touch people's hearts? As much as we could say or reach into their hearts, that's all. Nobody knows how many more words remain. Today, I will try to tell a little about Altaf Mahmud, a martyred intellectual, freedom fighter, and language activist. Step by step, the easygoing teenager who wandered in the catkins began to work for the country, for the people. From 1952 to 1971, he walked 56 thousand square miles along the path of melody. My father, Altaf Mahmud, was born on December 23,1933, in Patarchar village of Muladi police station in Barisal. He was the only child of my grandfather, Nezam Ali, and grandmother, Kadbanu. From childhood, Baba's life was in harmony.

After coming to Dhaka in 1948, Baba got involved with the Dhumketu organization. He could play the flute, violin, harmonium, tabla, ands ing along with them. From 1952 to 1971, Baba lived in the air and sky of Bengal as a comet of luminous melody. He prevailed over the enemy by the charm of music. Baba kept the crowd enthralled with the song's melody throughout the night. Whether in the village or the city, he walked and sang songs with a harmonium on his shoulder. He would spread revolutionary songs in the air of Bengal and took the language of our protest to new heights. 1953, when Baba was 21 years old, he composed the music "Amar bhaier rakte rangano Ekushe February, Am ki bhulite pari." The following year, the melody started resonating from prabhat feri. This tune is heard worldwide, in different languages, even on February 21, the International Mother Language Day. He didn't compose that tune out of intense desire or impulse; he sang this immortal song, his heart burning with a bright flame for losing his comrades.

Baba supported the United Front candidate against his father, Nezam Ali, a Muslim League candidate from his locality, Muladi, in the1954 elections. He composed parodies satirizing government activities and braving the Muslim League government and performed them in chorus with young activists at street meetings and demonstrations.

In the 1960s, Baba became a famous music director in the movie industry. Tanha, Behula, Suyorani Duyorani, Saptdinga, Ka Kha Ga Gha Uma, Jeeban Theke Neya, Let There Be Light, and many other famous movies witness his omnipresence. Even with such a busy schedule, he was never absent from any demonstration or memorial march. Until February 21, 1971, Baba always remained with his comrades. He even participated in every Chayanaut event. He would find time for rehearsals. He would sometimes stand with a harmonium hanging around his neck with a gamcha on the main streets in scorching heat at the foot of Shaheed Minar or Paltan Maidan. Even unknown to many, he was present like a shining star in the protest against banning Tagore songs in 1961 or celebrating Lenin's birth centenary in 1970. At that time, Altaf Mahmood, the most successful filmmusic director of East Pakistan, prioritized his ideals, principles, and patriotism ahead of other achievements. He proved that if a robust cultural movement is not associated with political demand, the political demand can never be strong enough to succeed. However, during the Ayub-Moneyam regime of that time, the ruling class considered performing Bangladesh-centric patriotic or revolutionary songs a form of treason. But Altaf Mahmood did not care. His melody has continued holding the hands of history, walking shoulder to shoulder with his people.

But we have moved away from those paths and expectations. The demand for our cultural rights started with the language movement in 1952. The first step to culture is language. From the very first steps, the birth-desire of an independent nation began. And to fulfill that goal, the Liberation War of 1971 was organized to protect culture, art, and tradition. The 1971 war was all about guaranteeing the citizens, regardless of their race, religion, creed, ethnicity, and gender--including Hindus, Muslims, Christians, and Buddhists--their right to freely use their languages, observe their rituals and worship, and celebrate their festivals in an independent land.

During the War of Liberation, Baba never left his residence at 370 Outer Circular Road and took shelter anywhere else for a single day. Later, he built a fort there for the freedom fighters. From the beginning of the war, he started composing songs for Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra and sent them to the Melaghar. He once got directly involved with the crack platoon of Dhaka guerilla forces. Guerrilla freedom fighters located in Dhaka used that house as their refuge, assembly, and exchange of information with Melaghar. His fort became the most dependable place for freedom fighters in Dhaka. He used to collect weapons of guerrillas that would be useful in the next operation. On August 30, Altaf Mahmood was caught with two trunks of firearms by the Pakistani occupation forces. They took him and other guerillas to an unknown destination. It was later learned that he was kept in the torture cell of Nakhalpara MP Hostel during the day and at Ramna police station at night.

On August 30, a battered Altaf begged for water in the MP Hostel's torture cell, and Pakistani soldiers urinated on his face. When the turn of torture was over, they would pile him into a small bathroom with many people. There was a water tap, but he had no strength to drink water from it. His companions would do whatever they could for each other. Some of them drank water with cupped hands. After 10 pm, everyone was sent to Ramana police station by truck. The common inmates fed their share of dry bread and pulses that night. That day, Altaf did not eat anymore; he was writhing in pain and went to sleep due to a fever.

The next day, on August 31, in the morning, the army brought them from Ramna police station to the interrogation chamber of the torture cell of Nakhalpara MP Hostel. After several hours, Baba was taken to the torture cell to confess. At some point, impatient Pakistani soldiers hung his leg toa fan, beat him severely, and broke Baba's knees, elbows, and ribs. They wanted a name, just a name. Altaf, a tall, well-built man bent over, did not open his mouth, not even to the end. That was how the night went. Before sending them to Ramna police station again at 10 o'clock, the Pakistani soldiers decided who would be released and who would not be. Despite the brutal torture, Baba did not bow to the enemy and did not reveal the identity of his comrade who was hiding. To them, the country comes first, and with this motto of loving their nation, they sacrificed their lives for our better future. They were not buried, and no one knew the date of their death.

After coming to 53 years of independence, I just want one thing: the people of Bangladesh remember us. Try to feel the essence of the sacrifice of two generations--the birth of this flag, national identity, and land. Before succumbing to radical fundamentalism, inciting communalism, or denigrating the Liberation war, remember that this soil is soaked in the bloodshed of martyrs. Remember that the land called Bangladesh, on whose soil you walk, was earned by the blood of 3 million martyrs.

Writer: The daughter of martyred intellectual Altaf Mahmud