For contemporary Bangla literature aficionados, the name “Himu” is the epitome of the social iconoclast.
If, in this mega mercenary city, there’s a character which represents the unknown Bohemian, wading through life without any plan or purpose, then it is him -- an intriguing creation of the late raconteur par excellence Humayun Ahmed.
Having witnessed Humayun Ahmed’s death anniversary recently (July 19), it’s fitting to go in search of Himu because, in this dyed-in-the wool vagabond, Ahmed probably lived out his own maverick impulses.
Naturally, in real life, the author was a methodical man -- a professor, a writer, and a film-maker who did not die unheralded and without material assets.
If society measures success in monetary terms then Ahmed was well off.
If cancer had not cut his life short, he would now be a very wealthy man.
If alive, he would also be the perfect example of the strategic Bohemian.
To use a line from Shakespeare: There was a method to his madness.
Himu, the ultimate Bohemian
A person who does not have any aspirations to move ahead in life or a desire to own any material possessions like a car, a flat, or even an expensive phone, Himu, from the very first novel, defined the life of the avowed drifter.
A wanderer in search of life’s adventures, not by going to far away, exotic places, but by driving into the deeper alleys of everyday life, seeking out the nuances of human interactions, in places like the bus terminal, the public toilet, an open field, or a desolate post-midnight street.
A thrill-seeker in life’s mundane spheres, one may say.
But thrills are rarely pre-advertised on a large board and, usually, never come at the place where one would expect it.
That late-night bus ride, or the interaction during a rain-drenched evening at a tea stall, the boat ride on the Buriganga just to stave off the blues, or a desultory walk through the labyrinthine Old Dhaka can yield something extra ordinary.
In short, those who do not spend big bucks also experience the surreal moments of existence.
Himu falls in that category.
In conceiving Himu, Humayun Ahmed possibly sat at roadside tea stalls inspecting young men who did not fit into the conventional mould.
Does that mean the life of a nine-to-five job holder was never in his radar?
The instant answer can be a “no” but let’s think a little deeply.
Why can’t a man have the best of both worlds?
Someone can easily be in the straitjacket of orthodox living for the first part of the day and then, for the other half, after sunset, can shed the skin and be the vagabond for a few hours.
Does not sound appealing, right?
Well, wearing two hats is not impossible but to have the cake and eat it too, the person in question needs to be single, either a bachelor or, perhaps, someone who lives away from the family.
Himu has Rupa, a girl, who, initially, is fascinated by Himu and gradually understands/accepts his ingrained eccentricity.
The love factor between the two is never clearly pronounced, leaving the reader in suspense although this uncertainty adds spice to the conversation between the two.
Unfortunately, in reality, expecting a Rupa in the life of Himu would be too much.
“Unconventional” sounds terribly attractive but as Oscar Wilde once said, “it’s better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating.”
Out there, Bohemians rarely have someone waiting for them.
One thing is certain, being Himu within a structured family atmosphere is tough.
Unless of course, one is like Humayun Ahmed, who could retire to his nature surrounded rural resort.
Obviously, this begs the question: Did Humayun Ahmed, for a certain part of his life, taste the life of his maverick?
Again, a definite answer is difficult.
Perhaps he tried to be a blend between the vagabond and the socially secure.
A strategic middle role one might say.
Be the strategic Himu in real life
Living in a mess with others, taking each day as it comes, going through life without any major forward plan, not having any savings for emergency issues can be fun in a story, especially while reading it on a soft rainy noon with khichuri and beef being cooked in the kitchen.
Try this in real life, and you won’t be running to buy that yellow panjabi Himu wears.
In the books, Himu rarely faces a major health issue and, whenever he finds himself in a pickle, a good samaritan or a wealthy relative emerges from somewhere to mitigate his plight.
One can certainly be a Bohemian but with a few very strategically placed people who are willing to lend a hand in need.
Himu is a vagabond but knows how to cultivate connections, many of whom are very conventional people with strong economic foundations.
In the stories, all these connections, some from his past and others whom he meets over the course of his life’s escapades, emerge before a catastrophe is about to happen.
Well, not a total Bohemian.
To quote John Donne, no man is an island, every man is a part of the continent.
The absolute Bohemian or free spirit would end up being a vagrant and a destitute.
Therefore, through Himu, the late Humayun Ahmed gives us the very poignant message: Have a freewheeling life, but be strategic about it.
By all means, make an attempt to be a complete Bohemian on weekends: It’s like a refreshing change from the weekday lifestyle of discipline and rules.
Humayun Ahmed never told us to give up everything and be a social heretic.
The underlying message from Himu novels: “Go, be the iconoclast, but do it shrewdly, smartly.”
I bet Humayun Ahmed also lived like his character at certain points of his life -- free and without any worry about social norms. But, he also made a remarkable balance between eccentricity and practicality.
In 2025, Himu’s quest for a psychedelic experience on a full moon night in some forest or from the roof-top still holds appeal, but in rhapsodizing the life of a Bohemian, let’s also not banish reality.
Both the hedonist and the Himu will savour the mystery and the Gothic sensation of moon-beams and both will have to wake up and face reality in the cold light of the following day.
Towheed Feroze is a former journalist.
