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A tender side of loving Bangladesh in the BDR carnage.
All carnages are carnage. Yet, after a fiery battle, on the same scorched battle ground, sprouts a tender tube of grass with a small flower under its tiny affectionate shade.
After all that horrendous scenes of BDR carnage, there emerge perpetually another scenes at the main gate of BDR HQ : Mothers, Fathers, Wives, Brothers, Sisters, Sons & Daughters and other kith & kin came---accompanying the innocent (or maybe a few guilty) BDR personnel---up to the Gate, just to watch that he has safely entered through it.
But, then they did not return. Many stayed there for days & weeks---under the oppressive heat and maze of dirt with-out any home-cooked meal or a satisfying sleep---on the very footpath near the gate through which their beloved kin had passed through. They could not leave that place---as if tied by the strongest bond of heart & blood----lest something happened to the boy or may be he is not being fed or may be something---- which even they themselves do not know.
This is a wonderful relationship---almost non-existent in many places in these modern days. Did you ever notice how---for each departing worker going abroad----5 or 6 family members come to the airport ? They stay till the plane takes off with roars, and then vanishes in the sky. Yet they keep on looking at that far spot in the sky through where the beloved kin just has gone too far.
Oh! Why Bangladesh was made so tender & loving ? Why Bangladeshis were given so much tears of love---the immense volume of flood-water dry up but not the tears ?
Yet, how come we fall in such trap of carnage ? Is it all by ourselves ? Or have some of us been sold out to heartless demons ? Or are the demons trying so hard to turn us against ourselves ?
Shall not we wake up and stand strongly now ?
All carnages are carnage. Yet, after a fiery battle, on the same scorched battle ground, sprouts a tender tube of grass with a small flower under its tiny affectionate shade.
After all that horrendous scenes of BDR carnage, there emerge perpetually another scenes at the main gate of BDR HQ : Mothers, Fathers, Wives, Brothers, Sisters, Sons & Daughters and other kith & kin came---accompanying the innocent (or maybe a few guilty) BDR personnel---up to the Gate, just to watch that he has safely entered through it.
But, then they did not return. Many stayed there for days & weeks---under the oppressive heat and maze of dirt with-out any home-cooked meal or a satisfying sleep---on the very footpath near the gate through which their beloved kin had passed through. They could not leave that place---as if tied by the strongest bond of heart & blood----lest something happened to the boy or may be he is not being fed or may be something---- which even they themselves do not know.
This is a wonderful relationship---almost non-existent in many places in these modern days. Did you ever notice how---for each departing worker going abroad----5 or 6 family members come to the airport ? They stay till the plane takes off with roars, and then vanishes in the sky. Yet they keep on looking at that far spot in the sky through where the beloved kin just has gone too far.
Oh! Why Bangladesh was made so tender & loving ? Why Bangladeshis were given so much tears of love---the immense volume of flood-water dry up but not the tears ?
Yet, how come we fall in such trap of carnage ? Is it all by ourselves ? Or have some of us been sold out to heartless demons ? Or are the demons trying so hard to turn us against ourselves ?
Shall not we wake up and stand strongly now ?