‘Aiz rattiri military aspi in this giram, you who are changra polapan go giram chaiyya go midi aiz rattiri. And those who stay at home should be careful,” said an uncle from our village. He was a member of the Peace Committee. It was ten o’clock at night. Village night, all around deserted. The call of a fox can be heard in the distance. Many people, young and old, are listening to the news on Swadhin Bangla Betar in the house of Maqbool uncle next door. Bangla news is over, but people are listening to the ‘Chalichchanti’ news of Aakashbani Cuttack, paying attention as if it is a language they know.
I looked at his face in disbelief. He said this twice before. The people of the village forgot about their age, left their houses and ran like crazy towards some other village, even if they had little possessions. It is an incredibly sad scene. Small and big people are running like a procession. After a certain period of time people returned to the village. Although the physical and mental pressure has been a lot, still the people of the village are relieved because the military did not come. I said, ‘Uncle, he said two days before that the military will come.’ Uncle’s expression of determination in his eyes, ‘Aiz but really Aspi. Where else do you go for two days, go this way, and do not delay.’ I looked at his face in surprise. How many times I visited this uncle’s house in Dhaka when I was very young. He was a loving person. How much has he changed now by joining hands with the military. We have never known how people can change so much, out of fear and greed.
Our house is called Barabari in Muraripur village. The grandfathers were not brothers. So not the partner’s big house, big yard. The number of people is also high. Urban siblings, sisters, nephews of many partners have left the city and come to our house in the village. After hearing the uncle’s news, the whole house woke up in a moment. There is no need to be careful, so we gathered three pansi boats and crossed the Padma within a few hours. The younger sister woke up with a hasty scream. Both mother and sister are ready to cross the river. My uncle looked at my mother and sister and said,
–‘No one of you is going up, only the bright-eyed people are going. They stay at home and can go with the patience of the military.’
My mother and sister could have gone but there was no room in the boat. I looked at them helplessly and pitifully. They also looked at us helplessly, as if we would never see each other again. If the military really comes today, will my mother and sister be saved from them! I started to think. Today I think, how they felt at that moment to stay there at that moment.
