The city of the poet and his memory



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And who is not the character in this book! Horse-drawn carriages, Bakarkhani, Salil Samadhi of the Nawab Siraj family in Buriganga, Lalbagh Fort in memory of Paribibi, Nawabi Khushboo of Ahsan Manzil, Rammohun Roy Library and reading room, Song of Merasin and even seaweed in old brick hollows City of memoriesThe vocal character of, the history of this magical city in everyone’s voice.

As Shamsur Rahman passes Victoria Park, he talks about the ‘Vrindavan Dhar & Sons’ bookstore, so don’t forget Victoria Park, the bloody story of hanging the soldiers of the Sepoy Rebellion in a tree in the old Antaghar Maidan. Walking down the path of history, he entered the story of a famine night in 1943. A fourteen-year-old, sitting down to eat bread and potatoes, suddenly said: ‘I was surprised to see a ghost. A pair of eyes in the window and what a sight in that eye. It is as if the hunger of the kingdom has gathered in that pair of eyes. There is no trace of meat on the face, the bones and the skin have become monotonous. I couldn’t remember what happened then. I saw that my plates were empty. When I see flour bread, I remember that haunting night. A pair of eyes floated in front of me, the eyes of all Bangladesh blazing.

Shamsur Rahman tells the story of his growth and that of the city in the shadow of the sword. Sister Nehar’s death in the bosom of this city has given birth to her poetry, bringing her out of the darkness of a lonely castle to the sublime realm of light.

City of memories Many years after the book, some poems and prose written about beloved Dhaka have found a place My cover (First edition) in the book. It’s like in wealth and inner beauty City of memoriesSupplemental Book of 7 On the other side of the page, we look for the poet in Dhaka in the thick darkness, where the lamp of his childhood is! As I went for a walk to Gulistan, I saw Shamsur Rahman standing in Nur Hossain square saying “The book is the heart of his Bangladesh”, I went to the silent architecture of Shahbag and saw Shamsur Rahman there too; It says: ‘Nijhum architecture is the face of protest today’, then Shamsur Rahman’s loud statement ‘Assad’s shirt is the flag of our lives’ can be heard as we walk through the Assad Gate pushing the jam.

Shamsur Rahman thus continued to spread the shadow of his being throughout the city of this memory.

Happy birthday poet, to you.

Pius Majid: poet and essayist

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