Bangabandhu's March 7 speech and composition of my poem

Fifty-three years ago, on March 7th, 1971, the Father of the Nation and the visionary leader of the liberation struggle, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, delivered a historic speech at Dhaka's Suhrawardy Udyan (formerly known as Racecourse Maidan). Standing before a massive crowd of over a million people, it was my privilege to be seated very close to the podium, on a bench reserved for journalists, to witness that momentous speech.

For a young poet, what could be luckier than this? At that time, my first poetry collection, 'Premangshur Rokto Chai', was just published. Very few poets in the world have the privilege of starting their lives with such fortune. I am undoubtedly a fortunate poet. There are not many poets in the world as lucky as me. At that time, I worked for the English daily "The People," edited by the industrialist and lyricist Abidur Rahman. He, considering me a poet, entrusted me with the role of sub-editor in his newspaper. He was a follower and beloved of Bangabandhu.

A Bengali weekly paper called 'Ganabangla' was published from the People Newspaper Building. Anwar Zahid, a journalist and one of the leaders of Vasani Nap, joined as the executive editor of 'Ganabangla'. I used to write in Ganabangla as well as The People. I decided on March 7, I will also go to Suhrawardy Udyan to listen to Bangabandhu's speech with Anwar Zahid Bhai.

Who would have known that the speech on that day would be counted among the greatest speeches in world history, recognized by humanity as unparalleled evidence? However, the fact that Bangabandhu delivered a highly significant speech on that day was resonating among all people and echoing everywhere in Dhaka. Our newspaper's owner-editor, Mr. Abidur Rahman had already ensured the publication of a telegram containing the essence of the speech immediately after its delivery. I thought, after listening to Bangabandhu's speech, I would also write something for that telegram. However, with that finalized, we went to attend that massive public gathering.

The vast field of the Racecourse was filled to the brim. As I sat in the reserved seats near the stage for journalists, I felt extremely fortunate. There was a slight delay in Bangabandhu's arrival at the rally ground. During that time, Jahid bhai spoke with A S M Abdur Rob, one of the leaders of the Chhatra Sangram Parishad. The conversation went something like this: "Will your leader declare independence today?"

At that moment, rolling up his sleeves, student leader A S M Rob, said, "If he doesn't do it, then we will declare independence today."
Jahid bhai then mockingly replied to Rob, "We'll see. Once the leader arrives, all of you will turn into cats."

I can’t remember what Rob answered. Because,
Right that moment, amidst the thunderous cheers of the gathered masses, Bangabandhu's arrival seemed like a mighty wave crashing onto the shores of a sea. He ascended from Ramna Park towards the Racecourse Ground in a white car.

Welcoming the leader, the field echoed with the voices of hundreds of thousands:
Sheikh Mujiber poth dhoro
Bangladesh Shadhin koro
Tomar neta, Amar Neta Sheikh Mujib Sheikh Mujib
Tomar Amar Tthikana, Padma, Meghna, Jamuna
Joy Bangla, Joy Bangabandhu.
(Follow the path of Sheikh Mujib, liberate Bangladesh, Your leader, my leader, Sheikh Mujib, Sheikh Mujib,
Your and my address, Padma, Meghna, Jamuna,
Victory to Bengal, victory to Bangabandhu.)

He had no prior experience of addressing such a massive crowd. Why am I only mentioning his name? Has any leader in the world been fortunate enough to address such a large gathering? I could never imagine what he would say to address this massive audience. He looked stunned at the sea of people. Then, raising both hands in a gesture of humility, he signaled the crowd to calm down. Instantly, the roar of the crowd subsided.

Facing the microphones set up in front of the rostrum, he leaned slightly and began his historic speech. He said, “Bhayera Amar”… (“My brothers”….).

I listened to Bangabandhu's thunderous speech with admiration, captivated by his lofty voice. Reporters around me were jotting down his words on paper. It seemed appropriate for me to do the same, but I found myself getting lost in Bangabandhu's speech. Eventually, his speech came to an end. Amidst the chants of "Joy Bangla" and "Joy Bangabandhu" echoing from the multitude, he stepped down from the stage and set foot on the ground of the park.

We quickly left the venue to return to the People's Office for the publication of Ganabangla's telegram. Upon our return, Jahid bhai instructed, "Go, quickly and write a report."

With pen and paper in hand, I try to write, but I cannot recall what Bangabandhu actually said in his speech. Only one sentence keeps rotating in my mind: "This time's struggle is our struggle for freedom, this time's struggle is the struggle for independence. Joy Bangla."

I create a headline with that sentence and write a brief description of the rally. Jahid bhai read my report and chuckled. He said, "Is reporting that easy? Couldn't you understand the four conditions Bangabandhu mentioned?" I sheepishly admit, "No." He then started laughing loudly. And said, "Go, bring your poem. You don't have to write the report.” What else can I do? I handed Jahid bhai a poem I wrote for publication in Ganabangla's telegram instead of the report. However, my poem was published in place of the report in Ganabangla's telegram issue.

On the night of March 25th, The People's newspaper office was set on fire with gunpowder. Five workers and employees were burned alive. The office was completely destroyed in the fire. As a result, the poem I wrote on March 7th is lost forever, like a memory of yore. I couldn't find that particular issue of Ganabangla newspaper despite searching a lot. If I had found it, it would have been possible to retrieve the poem. I don't remember a single word from that poem. The title of the poem also doesn't come to my mind. However, the poem that I had written and was printed, resonate deeply with me. I am very fond of the poem. The poem holds a special place in my heart, but unfortunately, I can't seem to remember its content or how it was written.

After 10 years, I never imagined that the lost poem would transform into a new poem in my mind and would get liberation, something I never even dreamed of.
General Ziaur Rahman and his political party BNP attempt to distort the subject of Bangladesh's independence declaration. In protest against this distortion of history, in 1980, I compose a poem to convey the significance of the speech delivered on March 7th to future generations. I title the poem "Shadhinata, aee shobdoti kibhabe amader holo” (Independence: How did this word become ours?)

I wrote this poem in my house in Dhopakhala, Mymensingh. At that time, my wife was studying at Mymensingh Medical College, which is why I was living in Mymensingh. The first listener of this poem was my father. He had come to my house for medical treatment. I wrote the poem in one sitting.

After writing, I recited the poem to my father. He was listening to my poem while lying on the bed. At one point, towards the end of the poem, he couldn't lie down anymore. He sat up on the bed and said to me, "After all this time, you've written such a genuine poem! It occurred to me that I could listen to Sheikh Saheb's speech after long time." One day in Kashbon, I recited my poem 'Huliya' to my father. Today, I listened him reciting the poem 'Swadhinata, Ei Shabdoti Kivabe Amader Hollo'. I saw tears welling up in my father's eyes.

Now, when I see my poem placed alongside Bangabandhu's speech on March 7th, I feel very happy. When I wrote that poem, I had an idea that one day that speech might be lost from Bangladesh in the turbulent waves of historical distortion. However, my poem will remain timeless. And this poem will carry the perpetual verses of Bangladesh's independence, resonating with the voice of Bangabandhu, to the Bengali people of the future. It will traverse through ages, from era to era. However, the fortune of us all is that, it was not needed.

I am not very calculative by nature. The date of the poem's composition has not been noted. However, it appears that in 1980, this poem was first published in the special issue commemorating the Independence Day or Victory Day, in the weekly magazine "Saptahik Sachitra Sandhani".

Author: Poet