Bangladesh Memories
By Ras Hafiz Siddiqui
It should feel like just another December day but
For some of us it makes 47 years with
A distant thought, much pain, it overwhelms even now
Bengal I still remember your scents, the richness and memories
Of the friends that one hoped to never leave so soon in life
Yet today the much older memory cells struggle to revive
Just the names of people, and the hushed conversations in old Dacca
where
We discussed the Beatles, ideals, preventing oppression and
The passion for politics, and a love of the life we shared
Spent catching never ending numbers of "Puti" or "Ruhi" fish,
Golden sunsets spent sitting on the shores of Dhanmondi lake with
The peaceful haunting sounds of "Bansari" flutes playing.
But the dreams of youth just could not last long
Like the Lychee seasons the sweetness came and was gone
As Lives were invaded by murder and death because
People who kill could not understand the concept of such a peace and
Still offer strange excuses for having carried out orders for "our" sake
as if
The parting of ways with the humiliation of surrender wasn't enough
Not forgetting that Pakistan was once the country of our love but
Since there is no turning back the clock on such a partition of the
hearts
Almost at the half century mark of a much lesser known Asian holocaust
A strange sadness forces this abstraction, this writing again today
To commemorate the painful and blood soaked birth of Bangladesh
Because the memories of eating fresh "ChomChom" sweets in Savar
Mingle with the smell of death and gunpowder, yes the gunpowder
everywhere
And all the bridges we hoped to build between us still nowhere
Waiting for a sincere apology to start the healing of many heavy hearts.
(This was first written about 20 years ago with the hope that the people of both Bangladesh and Pakistan will find peace and harmony in their future)
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