Abdul Mannan Badshah, leaving all the kingdoms of life, hid himself; That is, he hid himself within himself. Pseudonym from disguise. The beggar is Samudra Gupta!
Like a jovial vivacious monk, Bakshada the white minded man smiled and laughed all the time. He did not let understand – inner pain, suffering, crying. He used to came my Shahbagh Aziz Market’s office and chat. And he used to write columns in the travel papers edited by me (Parashi, Parikrama, Manchitra). He used to run his fingers through his white hair like Kashaban and said, ‘I used to belong to the left party. Write with left hand. But eat with the right hand, take money with the right hand! Ha ha ha….. I write all these columns for rice. I will buy rice. give money I will go home. The hair is turning black again. Must paint!’
I said, mean?
-I mean everyone dyes their hair black. I give the color white. Pure white. Ho ho ho…
He used to laugh like this. I Heard his cry; over the telephone, at the time he dying! in the hospital Treatment is ongoing.
at that time I was in a weekly Bengali reporter published from Toronto. We sent some money for him instead of a few drinks. I called, Samudra Gupta cried like a baby after receiving the phone. He said lovingly in an emotional voice, the money will be the air fare to India. I took it right hand from Shihab (Dr. Shihab Shahriar)! With a wet voice, he laughed again!
I never saw him with a sad face. He always filled his presence with a smiling face and jokes. One day I asked him in a chat, you are a rare example who has become a Hindu from a Muslim. Before I finished speaking, he responded and said, yes. Abdul Mannan King directly from Samudra Gupta!
– Is it from Gupta?
– Angered at Prakash, and became Gupta.
-which publisher?
– No publisher, Prakash! Jyoti Prakash Dutta! hahahaha
There are very few interesting people. I know for what reason on that day, Amzad Bhai ie Amzad Hossain came. While chatting, Samudra Gupta said, make a movie called ‘Badsha to Beggar’ like Badi to Begum. I will act in it.
Amjad Bhai said – what you have Makeup-Getap, will suit it very well.
– Hey brother, for that I have already assumed this appearance.
How many words, how many memories! Which one should I write?
His poem ‘Yahiya’ is featured in my edited book ‘Muktijudda: Selected Poems’. Later, when the second edition of the book came out, he asked for an interesting poem and immediately sat down to write in my office at 78 Aziz Market. The name of the poem is ‘Chhecha Dimu’. Funny poems, laughter poems for Pak-Army. But he did not take that poem into the book.
On that day, moving the first edition, he joked that those who fought the liberation war and freedom fighter poets, their poems will be printed in red. For example, Samudra Gupta, Rafiq Azad, Syazad Qadir, Abid Anwar, Khondkar Ashraf Hossain, Abid Anwar, Abu Qaiser, Mahbub Sadiq.
And those who went to Calcutta and worked for the liberation war, their poems will be printed in green ink. For example, Al Mahmud, Syed Ali Ahsan, Asad Chowdhury, Kazi Rozi, Sikandar Abu Zafar, Belal Chowdhury.
And those who wrote poetry from the blockade – such as Sufia Kamal, Shamsur Rahman, Humayun Azad, Abu Hena Mustafa Kamal. Their poems will be printed in yellow color. And Badbaki’s poetry is in black ink. I still cannot forget his explanation of this strange color.
He used to visit my office whenever he came to Shahbagh. used to chat I know why, like many people, Samudra Da considered this small office of mine his own. He was leaving once he peeked. I asked to sit for tea. He said, don’t go. getting sleepy, will sleep.
I said, take some sleep here. I came downstairs from the classroom.
Because, many times after lunch I used to switch off the light myself and sit on the chair and take a nap. He has seen it many times.
I left him the chair and created a sleeping environment and went down to the classroom from the third floor. Half an hour later, I came back to see him writing poetry!
– what brother, where is the sleep?
– Don’t say anymore. I found poetry in my sleep.
-So.
– Hmm.
He read it and dedicated it to me. I took the poem and gave it a courtesy envelope. He said, this money can not be taken?
– Why?
-This is a dedicated poem. so
Why didn’t you sleep?
-Dur Mia, can you sleep here? The ringing of the phone, the shouting of the people, the shouting of the hawkers on the balcony.
I said, I left this handwriting. When I sell your memories.
-Ha ha ha ha ha Again that hearty smile. He said with a smile, let’s go. getting sleepy will sleep
Samudra Gupta’s struggling life was spent in various professions. At various stages of his life he was a press clerk, saw mill manager, jute mill shift worker, executive of development organization, drug and medical business, proof reader, journalist, professional writer and above all a poet! He used to write poems from his heart and used to look at people’s sun-burnt faces.
He passed away on July 19, 2008 in Bengaluru Hospital, India, leaving behind 12 books of poetry including his first book of poetry ‘Rod Jhalsano Mukh’ published in 1977.
