Mangled, raped, tortured bodies, often even charred and then if luck had it for them, also brutally killed. Many lost their lives in mass killing and had their bodies disposed in mass graves. Whenever, I come across the thought of mass killing or mass graves, something profoundly sad weighs me down.
The atrocity did not single them out, they must have been all muddled up in a confused disarray or ordered to stand in single file, whatever the approach had been, in both counts their deaths did not amount to much. It was not singular, it was all done without any thought.
Time must have been of the essence for the Pakistani army, as they ravaged and savaged through the lands, now Bangladesh, for nine long, grueling months, starting from the bloodiest operation of them all, Operation Searchlight on March 25, 1971.
“Kill three million of them and the rest will eat out of our hands.”
For those who only heard about the bloody 1971 war from parents and grandparents, learned about it off the ever-changing history books, watched movies based on the 1971 Liberation War of Bangladesh, and read articles and stories, we can only imagine. We can only imagine the filth, brutality, and the daunting horror which failed humanity over and over again for nine long months. We are left to our imagination. The photographs, written word, and the veteran’s accounts help us to imagine better, sketch a more realistic picture tainted in red in our mind’s eye, but still, we are left to our imagination.
And it is the best we can do. Imagine the bloodiest time in our history, and value the galore sacrifices made by so many for us -- the generation that can only imagine the horror of 1971 -- to have a country of our own. For many years, their great sacrifices held precedence over everything else in my history book. I was appalled, forlorn, and utterly shocked to have come to know about such a past riddled with unsung heroes and the occasional remembrance of the famous martyrs.
Forty-five years seem like a long time. A long time since the independence of our country, a long time since multiple change of regimes, unpredictable political atmosphere, bad politics, growth in several sectors of the country, a Nobel laureate, and global recognition.
Every March 26 marks a milestone for Bangladesh, it is a day when we look back, pay tribute to our heroes, and commemorate the insurmountable sacrifices that had been made only for the generations to come after them. Such anniversaries are special, the national public holiday does not only allow us to feel decompressed from the stress that a hectic routine adheres to an individual’s life in the big city, but it allows us scope to reflect about our history, and more importantly, about our future.
Although it has been long that we have proven Yahya Khan wrong about our fragility as a nation, in context to what he had said at a conference in February, 1971 about killing so many of us that the rest need to depend on them indefinitely -- I still believe we are a work in progress, and there is a lot of work to be done here. Looking forward is crucial in ensuring that we, Bangladesh, never falter.
We need to ensure that we are capable of rising above and beyond politics, social constraints, and inferiority in any sense of the word. I am quite sure that when the elderly reminisce about 1971 and the spirit that made us victorious, along with other things, they do it mostly to teach us -- the generation who can only imagine the horror about 1971 -- about the struggles, courage, and effort that had to be given to make the bloody year a victorious one.
They do it mostly to help us develop empathy, compassion, and attachment for all the fallen heroes and the veterans.
In effect, we not only begin to understand the gravitational importance of 1971 but, with it, we also develop a sense of victimisation. Sometimes, the helplessness sinks in and that profound sadness weighs me down, when the lessons being taught to me is about mass graves and mass killings.
The spirit grows weary because sometimes the weight of our history drains us of all our emotions.
We must learn and remember, they say. And when I was only beginning to pick up on my history lessons, I too listened as intently as they passionately narrated to me what has happened, and how the great leaders and the ordinary farmers selflessly fought for the cause of our independence. For me, the tone of the stories changed quite a bit over the years -- the essence changed from a zealous, passionate one to an enervated one. I realised, the narrative no longer inspired me but fatigued me.
The stories of our history will forever have the utmost respect of the generations who learned about 1971 from textbooks and loved ones’ tales, but we need a push to the future rather than a constant and firm pull back to reminiscing.
We should be able to rise above that helplessness, the sense of victimisation, and the profound sadness. We should be able to use it to our advantage to motivate us to do great things for Bangladesh and prove others wrong.
Others who still think we are a nation that has limited potential and devastating politics, and that we are bound to falter because of several intricate and external forces at play, need to be proven wrong.
Let March 26, 2016 mark yet another milestone for our nation, born out of bloody protests and a long war. Let us commemorate our fallen heroes and veterans, but also remember we are still a work in progress.
Let this day also mark a new turnover, a new psyche to push forward to progress and greatness above and beyond the history lessons.