EDITOR’S NOTE

A long time ago, when BTV was the only channel available, I remember watching a drama where some teenagers were planning a picnic on 21st February. They had been given the day off from college and decided to take advantage of the beautiful spring weather. Overhearing these plans, their politically conscious uncle gave them a stern scolding and told them to go read their history books. Shame-facedly, they walked away. The story ended.

I was in elementary school, happily staying up past my bedtime because the next day was a government holiday. Upon hearing the uncle, I felt guilty too and quickly switched off the television. I can't remember what I did the next day. I may have worn black and walked around with a sad face. 

I still wear black on Ekushey but it isn't a simplistic day of mourning anymore. After UNESCO declared 21st February as International Mother Language Day, the attire and attitudes have become a mix of black, white and red. We mourn the loss of so many lives during the Language Movement. We remember our martyrs with pride and respect. And we celebrate the beauty of our mother-tongue by holding handwriting competitions, poetry recitations, book festivals, etc. The story doesn't have to end sadly; it should go on triumphantly.    

The following poems, taken from an anthology of poems originally published by Bangla Academy, are thus chosen to invoke careful thought. We know where we started from. Do we know where we are headed?  

Today's SLR is dedicated in memory of the martyrs of the Language Movement, 1952. 

MUNIZE MANZUR