Let me talk about Ahmed Sofa’s unique and exceptional novel, Pushp Briksha Ebong Bihongo Puran (পুষ্প বৃক্ষ এবং বিহঙ্গ পুরাণ). On the cover of this novel, designed by Sofa himself, a parrot was perched on his shoulder. Despite the novel’s multiple editions published during Sofa's lifetime since its release in 1996, the cover remained unchanged. However, after his death, each publisher, whether legitimate or not, who published new editions of the novel made changes to the cover. Although these new covers were created by renowned artists, none matched the depth, accuracy, and literary perspective of the original cover. Last month, I bought a copy of the novel from the famous and timeless bookshop in front of the Fine Arts Institute at Dhaka University.
The difference between this cover and the one I saw last year was quite significant. As I see these new covers, the original cover, with the parrot and the wishful writing by Sofa, always comes to mind. I am tormented by the loss of that original copy. The first covers of Sofa’s war novel Onkar (ওঙ্কার), and his works Gavi Vittanto (গাভী বিত্তান্ত) and Alatchakra (অলাতচক্র)—which address the decline of university events—have also been lost by publishers. I wish to ask the publishers for an explanation as to why such unwanted changes are made. I wonder if the famous novels of Bankim, Mir Mosharraf, Syed Waliullah, Manik Bandopadhyay, and Akhtaruzzaman Elias faced similar random changes in their covers after their demise.
As far as I know, Sofa’s life-affiliated Bihongo Puran (বিহঙ্গ পুরাণ) has been translated into German, Japanese, and English. The novel, rich in extraordinary descriptions of events from the author’s life and beautiful linguistic style, features characters with whom I have had varying degrees of acquaintance. The bookshop owner, a sixty-year-old man from Narsingdi in front of the Fine Arts Institute, has memorized several characters from this novel and recites their names fluently. His shop is one of the most popular for this book. The novel describes how Sofa began staying in a rented house in Banglamotor, Dhaka, from 1993 until his passing on July 28, 2001.
Sofa meticulously describes the difficulty of finding rental accommodation for unmarried children in Dhaka. A clean-shaven landlord, retired from a section officer position in the Ministry of Education, refused to rent to the bachelor Sofa. Even after Sofa’s death, I visited the house periodically to check on its condition. I observed the coconut trees and noted whether the crows and magpies, which regularly came for rice and wheat, continued to visit. The landlord mentioned in the novel was last seen with a full beard.
Pushp Briksha Ebong Bihongo Puran (পুষ্প বৃক্ষ এবং বিহঙ্গ পুরাণ) is dedicated to Dr. Ahmed Kamal and Nazimuddin Mostan of Dhaka University’s History Department, meaning Mostan Bhai, a revered and beloved journalist of the Daily Ittefaq (দৈনিক ইত্তেফাক).
The extraordinary and benevolent Sofa writes in Bihongo Puran (বিহঙ্গ পুরাণ): “During this time, I met Mostan. ...Let me tell you how we met. Pakistani physicist Professor Abdus Salam gave a lecture on his discovered theories at Dhaka University. I wasn’t fortunate enough to attend the lecture, but reading the report in the Ittefaq newspaper, I felt that I had no trouble understanding Professor Salam’s theory. It was quite surprising that a journalist could explain such a complex theory so simply. I decided to visit the Ittefaq office that evening. There was such a remarkable person in our country. If I didn’t go and pay my respects, I would disrespect myself. I went to the Ittefaq office. ...Leaning over the table, he was writing a report. Only his head was visible. That small person.”
In 2009, former Indian President and scientist A.P.J. Abdul Kalam visited Dhaka as a convocation speaker for a private university. The poorly translated Bengali version of his English speech was published by the Daily Prothom Alo (দৈনিক প্রথম আলো). Even after trying to find satisfaction from the Ittefaq’s coverage, I was somewhat unsuccessful. I remembered that Mostan Bhai had been unable to write for many years. The Nazimuddin Mostan mentioned in the 1996 book fair-published Bihongo Puran (বিহঙ্গ পুরাণ) had suffered a stroke in 1997 while still working in his office.
Sofa and Mostan had created a school for slum children together. In Bihongo Puran (বিহঙ্গ পুরাণ), Sofa writes: “Seeing Mostan teaching the children with such dedication, I felt a pang of jealousy. He dedicated all his free time, except for office hours, to the children. He would even sit his own daughters with them. I would ask, ‘Isn’t this a bit excessive, Mostan?’ Mostan’s reply was, ‘Unless children learn to sit with the slum kids, no child can grow up to be a proper human being.’”
The school textbook mentions that trees have life and feelings. Many of us are adept at indiscriminately cutting down trees, thereby endangering the lives of birds. Sofa, a notable son of nature, writes: “I had developed a relationship with this ancient tree. Its proximity to the sky, the kites’ nest on its branches, and the mangoes ripening in the Ashar month all captured my heart.
I looked at the tree’s household with awe. The more I looked, the more I felt that I had a place in the tree’s world of birds, and the tree recognized that. The relationship I had with the tree was akin to the hidden affection and love in the relationship between a grandfather and grandson. I thought this vast tree with its large family belonged entirely to me. The mangoes swaying on its branches were all mine. All the birds that came and lived there were mine.”
In Dhaka, it is believed that every district has its association, and the number of sub-district associations would be no less than 300. The boy from Noakhali befriends the boy from Rajshahi, and the girl from Barisal makes friends with the girl from Sylhet. They learn about and exchange their respective cultures. Sofa Bhai instilled in me this understanding. Seeing the contrary, I have harbored resentment for many years, hence not attending any meetings of my own district or sub-district associations.
However, I have investigated the reasons behind such associations and learned that there are various conflicts among people who come to Dhaka for different purposes. They are engaged in politics and the politics of politics. Observing these divisions, Sofa was frustrated and wanted to belong to the group of flowers, birds, and trees. But one day, he discovered that even among birds, there were city-village divisions!
Sofa writes in Bihongo Puran (বিহঙ্গ পুরাণ): “One day I went out with a piece of bread and even uttered the word ‘crow troupe’. Crows came in flocks to eat. I looked up at the roof and saw a white crow sitting there. How delightful it was. I don’t remember ever seeing a white crow in the city. When a rural person comes to the city, the crow also becomes stiff and sits in a corner. I threw a piece of bread towards it. The city crows snatched and ate the pieces from its beak. It felt significant to me.”
Humanitarian Ahmed Sofa’s roots are in Gachhbaria, Chandanaish, Chattogram. In the same novel, he writes: “Having seen the brutality and strife in the world of clay people, I sought refuge in the world of sky birds. There too, I saw the scourge of violence and ethnic enmity. So, how can I fulfill my human duty without returning to my fellow humans? I am neither a tree nor a bird; I am a human. Whether good or bad, joyous or sorrowful, I must live a human life in a human society. I must descend into the tragic theater of human existence.”
Sofa Bhai often told me that he was a common person among common people. Perhaps it is because of this mindset, nurturing, and realization throughout his life that Ahmed Sofa was able to write such an extraordinary novel.
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Siddiqur Rahman Khan Columnist, Dainik Amader Barta Translation by Shoaib Rahman |