Notes of nostalgia
Muhammad Abul Hai is cheered by some short stories
It is indeed a phenomenal success for a person who, having crossed fifty, can look back at his childhood and youth and then present an honest portrayal of his success and failures during those days in engrossingly simplified language. He deserves to be called an accomplished individual. That is exactly what my impression is about my author-friend, Junaidul Haque. Well, there is nothing surprising as far as my personal understanding of Junaidul Haque is concerned. The English Department of Dhaka University, during our days, could be reasonably proud of having students like Junaid. Junaid, a tall man always wearing power glasses, gave us all an impression that he was flawless a character, cut out for serving a higher purpose. His literary insight and deeper contemplation of the metaphysical aspects of life made him a serious man. In the first story of this book, he wonders why people become old, why they suffer painful diseases, why there is unbearable helplessness in old age. He asks, "Couldn't God make us all ever young?" He also has seen some of his close relatives dying before him, leaving a score of questions in his mind which eventually made him a melancholic man. In the book, as he unfolds his own life, he admits that he has been so preoccupied with the unresolved puzzles of life that he has been unable to avail the share of joy he is entitled to. The first story is a kind of looking back at the invaluable time the writer spent in and around the British Council and the university. Although in the camouflage of Yusuf he tries to present himself as a humble man of average intellectual ability, it is the narrator who tells us the truth about him. Yusuf is a great fan of cricket and he has read extensively both modern and old writers. For him, teaching at Dhaka University and perhaps 'writing' could have been the most befitting profession. That is why he declined a government job after topping the list in the public service examination. Securing the highest position in the exams has been described as a disease for him. Junaid, the writer, very rarely exposes the deep rooted pain of his heart, but in one instance in the book, he cannot help revealing his heartache. He doesn't have a child to call him "Dad" in a sweet heavenly voice. The book is an honest record of the author's rural childhood. Rail bridges, ponds, canals, corn fields and bushes in the countryside have left an ever-lasting impression on his mind. He was born and brought up amidst all these rural beauties and his love for them have inspired him to sing of their beauty in overwhelming lyrical prose. The language is simple: blank verse turned into soothing and refreshing prose that creates a low musical murmur in your ears, similar to one produced by the flow of water over plain land not obstructed by pebbles, and not causing any reader to stumble. Bandhutta is the second story incorporated in the book. The writer elaborates on his unadulterated relations with a lady in plain honest details. His attitudes have never been contaminated by the alluring blue of the oceans that reside deep in the eyes of every mysterious woman. Not being able to teach at the university has been a bane that seems to have kept nagging the author all the time. However, in course of his discussion, it is revealed that his wife has always been an inspiration, and none, not even a woman is responsible for his so called failure. The author, at one stage of the story, appears as a philanthropist. His feelings are seriously injured to see children sleeping on the pavements without clothes to protect them from the cold. He feels a tremendous urge to act like Caliph Omar (R) for mitigating their sufferings. In "The Story of Son and Father", the writer gives his views about politics. In his brief yet a lively description of the Liberation War, he mentions the role of a few political leaders. He talks highly of the political sagacity of Tajuddin and Quamruzzaman, and their role in the liberation war. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman has been projected as a great leader, his political wisdom has been held high, and due homage has also been paid. Young readers will have something here which will help them wipe out misconceptions injected in their minds by the anti-liberation elements. In the last story, Junaid has, as usual, painted as beautiful a picture of our country as he has seen in some places in India. He mentions his visit to Jheenaighati, which is a couple of hours drive from Mymensingh. It is a place with hillocks all around that has made the landscape comparable to the beauty of Nainital, Shimla and Darjeeling in India. Although the rural areas of Mymensingh have always been the backdrop to his events, they are typical of the landscape in Bangladesh. The book has been written with eloquence, and people in their fifties will have a nostalgic feeling of looking back at their youth while skimming through it.
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