Our Oak Tree
By Nadir

The tall tree for centuries stand
Tall and elegant for all to admire
For many a weary man a cool place to rest
The rustling leaves are music to all
It’s sturdy stem and long branches have seen many events
Many storms and rain it has braved
Anchored to the ground with sturdy roots
They spread far covering the pond’s shore
South of the vast dighi it towers over all
Beside it lies many who once walked around
They were people who ran everyday measures
Today they rest under the cool shade of its branches
Many years and people have passed by it
Kings and dignitaries came and went under its gaze
Many occasions it silently shared wrapped in its leaves are stories
Night and day, bright and dark nothing can make it move
Happiness and sorrow celebrations and services it was part of.
Hundreds of years have passed by the oak tree has seen them all
Seasons came and seasons went the oak tree weathered all storms
Captivating is its beauty, serenity is in its surrounding
The distant mountain looks on and is in awe of its splendour
Grandeur and beauty enamour everyone who looks on
It is not weary; it is not tired nor weakened by the long years
Its roots are deep and strong holding strongly to the ground
No wind or storm can sway it or weaken it at all
Standing proudly the oak tree looks on
Strong, elegant, rising high and spreading far the oak tree stands cynosure of all eyes.

Abbi

By

Ali Hamza Khan

Ali Waris Khan, not just a name to me. He was my father, AB. The day I was born it was his arms that embraced me and made me feel safe and warm. He was there then and somehow he is still here with me now. He was the nicest person I knew, and one of the only people that I felt safe with. Somehow I know that he is still here with me, I feel safe.

Every day he would always want to do something with me, I remember once he was sleeping and I pulled his ears hard enough to wake him up, and yet he didn’t get angry all he did was take me for a walk. Other days he would take me places like cha-cha’s houses cousins and he would take me places to eat.

He wasn’t your typical person; he was a very kind hearted person. He couldn’t get mad at any one, which made him a better person and father. AB had a very simple life he didn’t do much when he was home, but always did a lot for my mom and me. I recently got back the phone he used to use from my cha-cha and all sorts of memories came back. I went to the recordings section of the phone and there was his voice. I was asking him if we were going to Bangkok, and he replied ‘Hmm, tomorrow morning we go to Bangkok’  Just getting to hear his voice once more, made me happy, that moment I knew he was still with us.

One of the sweetest memory of him that I remember was, he came back from a day of hard work as he entered he threw a soft tennis ball at me and told me to catch it. He then smiled and gave his signature chuckle ‘He he he!’ Remembering that now brings tears to my eyes.

I would do so much just to see his face again. He truly was a kind, hard working man and is  missed. He is truly inspirational, and I will remember the last thing he said before we left him at the hospital, ‘My boy, my boy.’ Even to this day he comes in my dreams and always says it is going to be ok. I still don’t believe I was blessed with such a nice family and father. All I want now is that everyone prays for him to live in eternal peace in heaven, where he deserves to be.

AB, you will always be loved.

by

Ali Sakhi Khan

It is difficult walking down memory lane and recalling my youngest uncle. I was only ten when we got the news that he was diagnosed with cancer. The whole house went into a depression. He was in India for treatment. To me the disease was like a normal fever, I never took it seriously. 7 months passed with no news of recovery. We used to spend sleepless nights praying for his recovery. Our entire extended family had come over to our place from around the world. Only if the time were right, we all could have made the most of it and enjoyed. One unfortunate morning, my eyes burst open with the loud cries of my father. He was on the phone in tears. Mother whispered to me that Jani Chacha was no more. I was in shock. I lay down on my bed in disbelief. Our hero, my hero was no more. It took me time to understand what was going around. One after another the family’s well – wishers and friends came over to express their condolences. All of a sudden, I realized that I would never be able to see him again and the next thing I remember was breaking down with tears streaming down my cheeks. It was a sad and miserable day for the family. We had truly lost a gem.

I can remember pretty well his love for cars. I had got a model car with a unique feature (unique to me). It had doors that opened upwards. He had wanted the car so badly that he agreed on exchanging it for anything I wanted. So he took me to a shop nearby and bought me a helicopter that flew in circles. Another memory that rushed through my mind was that he had got me a black, leather wallet. Although small, I valued it and still have it and treasure it every time I look at it memories rush through my mind. I also remember Jani Chacha taking me to a newly opened amusement park. We all enjoyed the experience together and that was the first time I got to see he childish part of him.

I always tried to copy his style. He was elegant and dignified. I have vivid memories of him looking aristocratic with a French beard, jet-black leather jacket. I remember him puffing his ‘Persian Hookah’. He was a very successful businessman, to us he was a wonderful friend full of fun, an elegant chacha, a good brother to his brothers, a caring father and husband he was the family’s favourite. To all my cousins and me he was a hero. Someone I always keep close to my heart and always cherish his memories. The world will never be able to produce another Ali Waris Khan.

Journey Through Bangladesh

Sylhet

Sylhet’s 137-Year Old Icon

Channighater Shiri, (The steps of Channighat)
Bonku Babu’r Dari, (The beard of Bonku Babu)
Jitu Miah’r Gari, (The car of Jitu Miah)
Ar Ali Amzade’r Ghori (And the clock of Ali Amzad)
is a popular limerick from the region that talks about the 137-year old clock tower. The historic icon on the bank of the Surma River in Sylhet city has recently been renovated after decades and saved from ruins. The clock now runs perfectly once again, but its bell remains out of order.
……………………………………………………………………………..
by Iqbal Siddiquee

Folk lore refers to the installation of the clock tower, by Nawab Ali Ahmed Khan in 1874, as inspiration drawn from the one in Chandnichawk in Delhi, India, set up by Shahzadi Jahan Ara. Ali Ahmed, also a philanthropist in his day, named the tower after his son Nawab Ali Amzad Khan. An alternate version of the story claims that it was Ali Amzad who established the historic icon himself. But, this information is considered as farce, as Ali Amzad was only three years old – being born in 1871 – when the clock was built. The spot used to be a great in attracting tourists – local, from adjacent villages, and foreign – as all were very curious to know how the big watch functioned.

As Ali Ahmed Khan passed away in the same year, the then British government appointed Ali Amzad’s grand mother as his guardian and appointed the District Judge of Sylhet as executor to look after the huge Zamindari property of the Nawab family. The young Ali Amzad grew up in Sylhet since then, so as to ensure a proper education. The young lad was admitted into the Sylhet government Pilot Boys High school. Fate dealt him with yet another blow while he was still attending school as his 40 year old mother, Umarunnessa, also passed away. Ali Amzad had to then return back to his village home in Langla to look after the Zamindari and Nawab property.

The significance of the structure – locally known as the ‘Ghorighar’- lies in history books and refers to it as an icon to welcome the then Governor General of India, Lord Northbrook. He had visited the spot in 1874 on a goodwill visit to tame unrests that were rising at the time. The people of Sylhet were agitated as the district was severed from the Bengal Presidency back then, and was joined with Assam. The people were not happy as they claimed Sylhet to be more advanced than Assam. Northbrook’s trip included a visit to Channighater Shiri – steps leading into the Surma River as well. Since then, the tower has been an attraction for people all over.

The structure was badly damaged by the impact of explosives in the War of Independence in 1971. The adjacent Keane Bridge had to be damaged for tactics in war, and the move had paid its toll heavily on the clock tower. It remained dysfunctional till 1987, and was then repaired for a total cost of Tk. 1.9 lacs. But alas, the clock was damaged once again by a lunatic who climbed the tower and heavily damaged much of its machinery, just one and one half years later. It was repaired, and was back in order in 1990. And yet again, miscreants during a riot had pelted bricks and stones on it to damage it to a point where it could not run anymore.

The structure was given a facelift by the Zila Parishad through much renovation and alteration in the period of 2005-2006. It was repaired and the triangular structure was made more attractive to onlookers, besides which walkways were constructed for pedestrians along the river bank in 2006. The Sylhet City Corporation also raised the height of the Ghorighar in 2009, while its latest move was to install new machinery for the clock brought in from China last year. – thedailystar.net 2011

Nawab Ali Sarwar Khan
A man of qualities
Ali Hamid Khan

Time never stops, it ticks away. People are born, play their part and pass away to the next world. Soon memories too fade away. This is the way of the world. But, some people leave their indelible imprints behind and are remembered for their work and contributions. On the 9th death anniversary of my father Nawab Ali Sarwar Khan these thoughts crisscross my mind. Going through his life remembering the words he spoke and the things he did, the values and principles he espoused and strove for, the visions and ideas that he held, I am more than convinced he was no ordinary man and was special in many ways to the people and region he belonged to and his family.
My father Nawab Ali Sarwar Khan was the third and the youngest child of Nawab Ali Haider Khan of Prithimpassa, Langla (Kulaura). He was born on 15 May 1924 in Kolkata, went to school in Shillong, and later went to Aligarh Muslim University. After completing his education he settled down in his father’s estate at Prithimpassa and assisted his father in the development and progress of the estate. He had especial interest in tea, so he focused on the tea estate of the family and there he developed his skills and expertise and contributed greatly to the development of the tea estates. Historically too, the family had special affiliation with tea as an industry. My great grand father Nawab Ali Amjad Khan was one of the pioneers of tea plantation in the country and in the late 19th century set up Rungicherra Tea Estate in Moulvibazar district, one of the earliest tea estates of the country.
Since coming to Prithimpassa my father showed interest in other areas too, like politics. This too was basically ingrained in him through the family’s long involvement with politics. In the 30s and 40s, my grandfather as a leader of United Muslim Party played a pivotal role in the cabinets of Sir Syed Muhammad Sadullah, Premier and G. Bardalai, Premier, of Assam. In the referendum which led to the separation of Sylhet to become a part of East Pakistan my grandfather’s role was momentous having far-reaching impacts. So, naturally this environment rubbed off on my father and soon he was a political leader in his own rights. He had the innate qualities that a politician needs to make his mark and those were the charisma and communication skills. Quickly through his sincerity, honesty and sense of empathy with concomitant hard work he touched people, won their hearts. As days went by he immersed himself more and more into politics and eventually joined Awami League. From Awami League he contested the elections in 1970 and 1973 and won hands down. They were testimony to his endearing personality and popularity. He developed his political instincts in the course of his life with his father and political elite he came across. Hussain Shaheed Shuhar-wardy also had enduring influence on his mind and thoughts and added to the culmination of the political direction he embarked upon.
He had many other qualities and one was his mastery over musical instruments while he was gifted with a melodious voice. Fashion was another area he had mastered and was envy of all. His collection proved without doubts the sartorial elegance he had attained. He was a voracious reader and collector of books. All kinds of books were on his shelves. He was a connoisseur of antiques and our ancestral home was filled with rare pieces collected from different places and sources. His knowledge of fire-arms, hunting was astonishing. He excelled in marksmanship.
During his tenure as Member of Parliament he contributed to total development of his area and it was due to his farsightedness and single minded efforts that electricity was introduced and the villages were lit up in 1974. This and abundant other consequential matters he undertook and positive efforts prove that he was a visionary leader with a mind focused on balanced development in all essential areas. He never relented till he accomplished his mission. He faced challenges with fortitude and conviction. During the liberation war of 1971 he was Member of Parliament from Kulaura constituency and later member of the Constituent Assembly after the liberation of Bangladesh. During the war of liberation he played a very important role giving leadership and direction in his sector. Today the people remember him for his leadership, honesty and selflessness. On his 9th death anniversary (he passed away on July 21, 1995) I express my profound gratitude and love.

By Nadir.

The train darts through the night as I lie on the berth ot my compartment trying to sleep and rest the tired bones worn out by mental and physical fatigue. The lights are turned off as I look out the open window at the night sky and its wash of stars. The sky is fitted with flickering stars, twinkling and blinking. I stare out the window as sleep eludes me. My mind is restless moving off in different directions. Thoughts mill in my head, as I lie oblivious to my surrounding. The train jerks and shakes moving at a relatively fast pace. The soothing, cool breeze flows into the room as I struggle to sleep. We are returning from the chelum ceremony of our youngest brother Alt Waris Khan. A brave young man, very good looking with strong features, tall and strong who was not ready for death. He was full of vitality and energy living life with zeal. He had so much to live for but destiny had other plans for him. When he was at the peak of success death struck and snatched him away from his near and dear ones. All his relatives, friends and well-wishers stood agape as the coffin bearing his body was brought back home from Chennai. Instead of walking down the plane in his usual style brimming with youth, energy and buoyancy, wearing a smile, he was carried on the shoulders of his friends and brothers to his final resting-place. He was a successful and enterprising man who loved life and lived it well. He was always raring to go, never shying from challenges, facing them with conviction and ingenuity. He never shirked responsibilities and was ever ready to be at others assistance going out of the way whenever required to bring smiles and happiness into others lives. He was always creative and innovative in business, and in social-life he was someone who was sought by his friends and his contemporaries. He lived life with a panache and self-confidence. In the business circle he was loved and admired for his honesty and tenacity. One of the qualities, among many, that endeared him to his friends and associates was that he never indulged in cheap politics, never stooped to deceit or intrigues and treated everyone with dignity and respect. He was upfront and wished everyone well. He never tried putting anyone down or never treated anyone with malice or arrogance. Never did he hold anything against anyone and was always willing to put in extra effort for others and ready to forgive for any rnalfeasance he came across in social or business life. He dealt with people in that unique way which brought them closer to him and they could relate to him easily. He was a self-assured man and was rooted in the values of honour and respect. He loved good clothes and dressed well His taste was immaculate and always went for the best. He loved cars and watches and had a wide knowledge about them.
When he was born he was healthy and beautiful and had brown, curly hair and bright green eyes. He was the darling of the family and everyone loved to cuddle and pamper him. He was born on 21st October 1965. Life went on and he grew to be a tall, strong and handsome young man. He had strong mind and body and lived life with a passion. His presence brought joy to other. There was always fun and action when he was around. From the very beginning he always had an inclination towards business. As his business skills developed he turned his attention towards garments and started a garments company by the name of ‘Just Designs’. But, before that he was in Saudi Arabia working for a company. It was a short stint lasting two years, Slowly with his hard work and foresightedness he created a niche for himself in the garments sector. As days went by his skills, expertise and knowledge developed more and more and his business flourished. His friends and associates valued his advice and counsel. ‘He never hesitated to contribute his bit in making his friends and contemporaries benefit from his suggestions and support. He never had the sleazy and cunning attitude towards anyone, traits that are commonly found in most people these days. He never disparaged anyone’s character. These qualities won him friends and admirers and made him stand out in a crowd. His coterie always respected him for his ideals and vatues.

He had aristocratic upbringing coming from a zamindari background and this persona clearly refIected in his day to day life. Most of the time he was very soft and lenient in dealing with adversaries. This sometime weighed against him. Apart from garments he ventured into the family tea business and agro-industry. As he went along in life he rubbed off his positive traits on others, For him family values, credos, ethics and religious beliefs had strong and important place in life. He respected family bonds and friendship and considered them sacrosanct and precious. He valued his beliefs strongly and upheld them proudly. He was brave and honourable even in the face of calamities and troubled times. He was poised and stylish and had a relaxed, soothing manner and body language. He was soft-spoken and rarely lost his temper. Never thought I would write this eulogy, what can be more painful? He was so dear to all, but his life was cut short so cruelly and abruptly that we were all taken aback. The news was like a thunderbolt striking us; taking away our senses- Maybe he had a sort of premonition of what was corning. Few days before leaving for his treatment, as he left my house he muttered to himself that he was destined not to live a long life. It hurts so much to get myself to pen my thoughts about him, but I want to remember him this way by pouring out my feelings and emotions. My prayers are with him always; he was such a sweet and affable person. I know, considering his personality, the words I am using to express myself aren’t appropriate enough to do justice to his personality.

Time will pass and people will get caught in the chaos of their day to day life but he will always hold a special place in our hearts. He will be missed and loved always by everyone who came across him or came to develop a relationship with him. People come and go this is the way of the world but to come to terms with a catastrophe of such magnitude is very difficult for all those who love him and care for him. He wanted to live, fulfil his ambition, achieve his vision and see his son grow. He wanted a little more time to finish his agenda, sort out his problems, but fate cruelly nipped his life in the bud and took him away from our midst.

When he flew to Chennai tor his treatment he was confident and sure he was coming back hale and hearty. The night before he left for Chennai he took his son on his lap and with tears roiling down his cheeks he comforted him as the boy cried too, unable to bear the parting. He was saying that he would be back soon and take him out shopping for his favourite toys. But it was not to be so. Whenever the phone rang we knew it was him from Chennai. SMS were always from him comforting us giving us courage and strength, he kept telling us he would be coming back restored to health and finish off his undone work. When I went to Chennai to see him I found him relaxed and optimistic, taking his treatment in his stride with profound fortitude and optimism. He never showed any sign of weakening, never showed any fatigue or depression. When I was coming back from Chennai he told me to organize everything and that there was nothing to worry. There was no sign of any tension in his voice. When news broke of his death the gathering at the funeral at Dhaka was very big they all came to show their respect to their dear friend. In his village home at Prithimpassa the gathering at the namaz-e-Janaza was massive. It was a huge congregation. It was a testimony to his popularity, his proximity to the common man. They poured out their love and respect that night and laid him to rest. A premature and tragic end of a life so precious and loved. I saw and felt that night the love and affection people had for him. It is heart rending to realize so many people loved him so dearly. He brought everyone close to himself and they were very fond of him. He was received well by friends and everyone who knew him. They will surely miss him Tears still roll down as his thoughts cross the mind or when someone talks about him. He had a life to live and so much work to do for himself his son and siblings but unfortunately it was not to be so, fate had some other plans for him, We will always love and remember him for the life and moments we shared with him. He will be in our hearts, in our minds and in our prayers forever.

Sunday, June 17, 2007, 10:19:20 AM

Many years have passed since these walls have fallen silent. Once there were noises and bustle. But today the edifices are silent, as if the time has come to a standstill. The slow breeze touches the leaves that’s all the sound we hear the intermittent chirping of the birds hopping on branches of abundant trees around. But, the time has passed and those people along with it. And all these rooms and arches that once welcomed people with open arms and joy; with magnanimity and generosity stand today as only symbols of the past, reminders of the days that were filled with fanfare, pageantry, glory and pomp.

By Ali Hamid Khan

PRITHIMPASSA is a small, remote village hardly mentioned any¬where in any newspaper or magazine these days, obviously for¬gotten by time. Once upon a time this village figured promi-nently on the map of Bangladesh and played an important role in the making of the nation. This small village, comfortably ensconced between the Sharargor mountain – sometimes called the blue mountain, and the Manu river – lies around 50 miles from Sylhet town and about 7 miles from Kulaura. This village is a stone’s throw from Kailashahr, a town in Tripura, India. The history of this verdant village dates back to the time of Saklii Salamat (circa 1499) who came here from Persia to preach Islam. His descendants in later time played pivotal roles in social and political life of the area. In the early l6th century came Ibrahim Khan Lodhi, better known as Khan-e-Jahan Khan, a title conferred upon him by the king of Bengal Ismail Lodhi for his outstanding services as gov-ernor of Bengal, Bihar and Orissa. He is the man who founded this village. With the fall of the Lodhi dynasty, he had migrated to the hills of Tripura and even¬tually settled in the adjoining area that was later named Prithimpassa. Since that time, his descendants are living here hav¬ing fully assimilated the culture and lan¬guage of the land. His descendants were in the court of Ali Vardhi Khan and received from him and also from the Nawab’s descendants titles, sanads and jaigirs. One of his descendants received the title of Danishmand for his erudition and intel¬lectual depth and the court of Murshidabad named a calendar after him.
During the Mutiny of 1857 this family helped the last Mughal Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar against the British. But with the suppression of the Mutiny and incar¬ceration of the emperor the British gov¬ernment in reprisal confiscated the arms exemption that had been hitherto given to the Zamindar Mohammad Ali. This was later retrieved after the Loshai expedi¬tion.
His son Ali Ahmad Khan was renowned for his efforts to modernise Sylhet but his premature death stopped the process. His son Nawab Ali Amjad Khan took up the task left off by his father and assiduously continued with the modernization and eradication of illiteracy. He is, apart from other things, well known for opening a girls’ school at Moulvibazar and a boys’ school at Prithimpassa way back in 1895. He also donated a tower clock to Sylhet town on the bank of the river Surma in 1874. This clock is a famous landmark. It is popularly known as Ali Amjad’s clock. Ali Amjad also did not live long having breathed his last at the age of 35. He left behind his two minor sons Nawab Ali Haidcr Khan and Nawab Ali Asghar Khan. They wore the mantle of their honourable father. They carried on very diligently and sincerely the unfinished works of their illustrious father. These two brothers subse¬quently married the daughters of the Nawab of Murshidabad in the early 1900s. They concentrated their efforts on the development of agricul¬ture and participated fully in the politics of the nation. The two brothers made relentless efforts for the development of the region. In Sir Sadullah’s Ministry, Assam, Ali Haider Khan was twice minister. He was minister for agriculture and later held the ministry for power and water. During his tenure he developed his area con¬siderably and it hummed with activities. In the middle of the twentieth century the Shah of Iran Reza Shah Pahelvi visited the village on a hunting trip for four days. He was the personal guest of the Zamindar. During his stay he expressed his satisfaction at the warm reception given to him and his entourage. Those days Prithimpassa drew the attention of the country and it seemed the whole administrative force shifted to Prithimpassa for a few days. Before the Shah’s visit the Langla railway station was built by the zamindar and its two tall columns still bear testimony to the days of glory.
During those days ambassadors of different countries, especially Hilreth, the then American Ambassador, were regular visitor. Hilreth had a strong and special rapport with the zamindar. Hunting expeditions attracted prominent figures who were personal guests of the zamindar. Tigers and leopards roamed the jungles and other big and small games were abundant. But now that same jungle has dissipated and denuded due by the growing population and illegal extraction of timber and bamboos. The pristine environment has been badly tampered with and laid waste by man’s greed and the compulsions of poverty.
Then came the eventful days of the early 1970s. People came forward to form vigilantes under the strong leadership of the sons of Nawab Ali Haider Khan – the well-known Nawab Ali Safdar Khan and Nawab Ali Sarwar Khan, Member of Parliament. Both these illustrious brave men took up leadership and fought the occupation army with striking military efficiency, boosting the morale of the freedom lighters even on the face of for¬midable force equipped to the teeth with sophisticated weapons and logistics.
Led by tlie two courageous brothers the freedom fighters fought bravely with unflinching determination. Their only aim was liberation of their motherland. Eventually the freedom fighters were able to inflict heavy casualties on the enemy and broke their morale. Consequently tlie enemy’s forays sagged and they retreated, unable to take the battering.
Prithimpassa was liberated and the flag of independent Bangladesh was hoisted over the village. The two broth¬ers continued to serve their land after liberation. Nawab Ali Sarwar Khan was again elected in the 1973 general election. In 1974 Ali Safdar Khan died and Ali Sarwar Khan passed away in 1995. They lie buried in their family graveyard with their predecessors across the pond opposite the family Mosque and Imambara.
During their time countless schools and Madrasahs were constructed and other social welfare activities picked up momentum. Their descen¬dants today are involved in different social work particularly in tlic field of education and preservation of environment through Hazrat Fatima (S.A) Social Welfare Society. If anyone cares to visit and listen, this village speaks volumes of the days of past great men who brought it hon¬our and fame. It is a historical village with deep indelible imprints of the past.

This is the first eid without our beloved brother Jani
As the clock ticks and time moves on
Our eyes keep moving to the door
Waiting for him to walk in with his son in tow
Wearing his new attire looking fresh and handsome
He has walked out of our lives
Leaving an emptiness and vacuum
How will we ever forget his wits and zest
The void will be impossible to fill
We were waiting for him to return fully cured
But instead he gave us a jolt and shook us up
Today there is emptiness and loneliness around
Our sweet brother has departed to live in his eternal heavenly abode