Ahmed Amanullah Shapon :
My Own experience with my father-in-law Kazi Golam Mahboob has been an eternal father to son relationship. It all started on a hot and humid summer afternoon in Dhaka at his residence in Dhanmondi in 1985. As I was accompanied by my mother, aunt, brother and sister along with few other close relatives to visit my bride-to-be Keya, I remember a tall, well-built dark haired gentleman greeting us on the doorsteps. His wide eyes, mellow smile and wide arms all were tingling with a sense of welcome. Walking into a nicely lit room with the sterio playing soft ‘harano diner gan’ and a big bright chandelier staring at us, I was busy glancing for a sparkle by my soon-to-be bride. Things following that afternoon became history and my relationship to my father-in-law has led into a state of being assimilated into a never-ending relationship.
I was familiar with some of the history behind Kazi Golam Mahboob, but learned a whole lot more as time progressed. I learned how an All-Party Central Language Action Committee (APCLAC) was formed with Kazi Golam Mahboob as its Convener on January 31, 1952. It was enlightening to learn how this young man in his twenties has led the Central Language Action Committee along with leaders like Abul Hashim and others into defying Nurul Amin imposed restrictions under Section 144 of the Criminal Procedure Code prohibiting procession meetings in Dhaka city.
Kazi Golam Mahboob since then went through a calamity of arrest warrants and prison sentences. Their determination soon became a reality as the Pakistan government recognised Bangla as a State Language on May 7,1954. On February 26, 1956 the Constituent Assembly passed the first Constitution of Pakistan recognising Bangla as a language.
My relationship with my father-in-law grew into stronger bonding during our summer visits to Bangladesh. Holding our twins into his big arms he would have me pressed into his chest as we walked into his house. I was so close that I could hear every beep and every tick of his heart. It was a welcome indeed! Every morning we would sit in his wrapped around sun porch, looking into a bright sun-lit garden and gossip about politics, relatives and most importantly how I am doing in my job. “Has a promotion happened yet?” is the first question he would ask. I jokingly would answer, “Abba, with all these summer visits, a promotion a year would land me into Chairman of the company position in few years. He would laugh and say “it will happen”. Actually, any good news from any of his children was an act of self fulfillment for him as he would cherish every moment of it for a long time to come.
My father-in-law and mother-in-law have visited us in the US at least once every 2 years, sometimes, more frequently. Our house here was like their second home and he loved the tranquility surrounding it. He would get up early every morning to do Fazar prayers as I was preparing for office. I would ask him if he wanted a cup of tea as I was making mine. He would say, “yes, with a lot of honey”. It was almost like a daily routine. As I was about to leave for the day, he would hold me tightly pressed up onto his chest and recite a prayer. It was a feeling of serenity, a feeling of empathy, which I will cherish forever.
These all ended with a call from Dhaka on a cold wintry February morning in Atlanta as my wife was awakened into a sad news about my father-in-law being gravely ill and in hospital. My wife and I were scrambling for some answers. We were trying to decide what to do as we felt very helpless for the time being. As my wife departed for Dhaka two days later; my boys and I used to huddle around the house praying for my father-in law, asking Allah to spare him this time around or at least till we arrive for our summer visit. Days passed, weeks passed; but still no recovery. The news from Dhaka was not good. In a sphere of a moment, I decided to go to Dhaka. I wanted to be there next to my wife as she was passing through some of the hardest times of her life. The day I arrived in Dhuka, we went to visit him at the hospital. One glimpse and I was numbed into a less than a being. It was like watching a rough and tough 6 feet man punched into a white of cement bag grasping for some fresh air. I cried out loud at times, because it was not meant to be. I wanted him to be alive at least till my sons graduate from college, see his first granddaughter getting married. There’s still so much left in his life. But, he started deteriorating and all things came to an end on the 19th of March, 2006. My beloved father-in-law passed onto a better world. The world he left behind includes all of us; his wife of 49 years, his sons, daughters, grand children and every other well-wishers. This is my story, which I will cherish for rest of my life. n
My Own experience with my father-in-law Kazi Golam Mahboob has been an eternal father to son relationship. It all started on a hot and humid summer afternoon in Dhaka at his residence in Dhanmondi in 1985. As I was accompanied by my mother, aunt, brother and sister along with few other close relatives to visit my bride-to-be Keya, I remember a tall, well-built dark haired gentleman greeting us on the doorsteps. His wide eyes, mellow smile and wide arms all were tingling with a sense of welcome. Walking into a nicely lit room with the sterio playing soft ‘harano diner gan’ and a big bright chandelier staring at us, I was busy glancing for a sparkle by my soon-to-be bride. Things following that afternoon became history and my relationship to my father-in-law has led into a state of being assimilated into a never-ending relationship.
I was familiar with some of the history behind Kazi Golam Mahboob, but learned a whole lot more as time progressed. I learned how an All-Party Central Language Action Committee (APCLAC) was formed with Kazi Golam Mahboob as its Convener on January 31, 1952. It was enlightening to learn how this young man in his twenties has led the Central Language Action Committee along with leaders like Abul Hashim and others into defying Nurul Amin imposed restrictions under Section 144 of the Criminal Procedure Code prohibiting procession meetings in Dhaka city.
Kazi Golam Mahboob since then went through a calamity of arrest warrants and prison sentences. Their determination soon became a reality as the Pakistan government recognised Bangla as a State Language on May 7,1954. On February 26, 1956 the Constituent Assembly passed the first Constitution of Pakistan recognising Bangla as a language.
My relationship with my father-in-law grew into stronger bonding during our summer visits to Bangladesh. Holding our twins into his big arms he would have me pressed into his chest as we walked into his house. I was so close that I could hear every beep and every tick of his heart. It was a welcome indeed! Every morning we would sit in his wrapped around sun porch, looking into a bright sun-lit garden and gossip about politics, relatives and most importantly how I am doing in my job. “Has a promotion happened yet?” is the first question he would ask. I jokingly would answer, “Abba, with all these summer visits, a promotion a year would land me into Chairman of the company position in few years. He would laugh and say “it will happen”. Actually, any good news from any of his children was an act of self fulfillment for him as he would cherish every moment of it for a long time to come.
My father-in-law and mother-in-law have visited us in the US at least once every 2 years, sometimes, more frequently. Our house here was like their second home and he loved the tranquility surrounding it. He would get up early every morning to do Fazar prayers as I was preparing for office. I would ask him if he wanted a cup of tea as I was making mine. He would say, “yes, with a lot of honey”. It was almost like a daily routine. As I was about to leave for the day, he would hold me tightly pressed up onto his chest and recite a prayer. It was a feeling of serenity, a feeling of empathy, which I will cherish forever.
These all ended with a call from Dhaka on a cold wintry February morning in Atlanta as my wife was awakened into a sad news about my father-in-law being gravely ill and in hospital. My wife and I were scrambling for some answers. We were trying to decide what to do as we felt very helpless for the time being. As my wife departed for Dhaka two days later; my boys and I used to huddle around the house praying for my father-in law, asking Allah to spare him this time around or at least till we arrive for our summer visit. Days passed, weeks passed; but still no recovery. The news from Dhaka was not good. In a sphere of a moment, I decided to go to Dhaka. I wanted to be there next to my wife as she was passing through some of the hardest times of her life. The day I arrived in Dhuka, we went to visit him at the hospital. One glimpse and I was numbed into a less than a being. It was like watching a rough and tough 6 feet man punched into a white of cement bag grasping for some fresh air. I cried out loud at times, because it was not meant to be. I wanted him to be alive at least till my sons graduate from college, see his first granddaughter getting married. There’s still so much left in his life. But, he started deteriorating and all things came to an end on the 19th of March, 2006. My beloved father-in-law passed onto a better world. The world he left behind includes all of us; his wife of 49 years, his sons, daughters, grand children and every other well-wishers. This is my story, which I will cherish for rest of my life. n
