Md. Kamal Uddin: Sometimes there are evenings in people’s lives that have no prior plan, no formal arrangements. Yet those fleeting moments remain in the album of the heart as colorful pictures for years to come. The night’s chat at Patenga Naval was just like that—away from the noise, somewhat free from the hustle and bustle, and a piece of serene time mixed with the twinkling lights of the night at the mouth of the Karnaphuli. The brick-and-stone city provides people with a livelihood, but nature gives people the strength to survive. Day after day, the busyness of writing, gathering news, stories of people’s happiness and sorrow, various social responsibilities—it seems to be increasingly difficult to find time for yourself in the crowd of everything. So suddenly, the decision is made—let’s leave the hustle and bustle of the city for some time and go to the mouth of the Karnaphuli. Waiting for the night to get dark. The clouds moving across the sky, the occasional dim light of the moon, the row of ships on the riverbed, the lights shining in the distance like stars scattered in the darkness. A light breeze was coming and touching my face, and it seemed as if nature was silently saying, “Leave all your worries here for a while.” I was leaning on the railing and looking at the black water of Karnaphuli. That body of water seemed to have hidden countless stories in its chest. How many people come, how many people go, but the river keeps all the stories in its chest. That day’s chat companions were three people with different natures, different personalities—Najma Apa, Sharmin Apa, and Itu (Itu). Their characters were like three different rivers, yet in the end, they all merged into the same stream of chat. Najma Apa—A lively person even in the midst of busyness Najma Apa is like another name for busyness. It seemed like she had left the walls of the office, but the office had not left her. Her mobile phone was like another companion. One call after another, coordination of various tasks—the open environment of Naval had become his workplace for a while. Yet his smile was lively. Sometimes, he would make jokes in between his words that made everyone laugh. He suddenly said, — “I want to eat dub.” Despite a lot of searching, dub was not found. In the end, a small feast was served with onions, jhalmuri, fried fish, and tea. However, everyone had the same comment about the taste of the tea, “It wouldn’t hurt if the tea was a little better!”
Sharmin Apa—The tension behind the smile
There was a kind of tenderness in Sharmin Apa’s eyes. She was chatting, laughing, and telling stories; but somewhere, her mind seemed to be on her family. The thought of returning home late reminded her of the time again and again. Yet, a song came to her voice. The night air seemed to soften with that melody. It seemed as if the waves of Karnaphuli were listening to that song, pausing. Itu – the inspiration for poetry hidden in a free-spirited smile Then came Itu’s words. People are first introduced to each other by their names, but they are remembered by their behavior. That’s exactly what I felt when I saw Itu. There was a strange vitality in her. Sometimes stories, sometimes laughter, sometimes sudden silence. It seemed as if she was talking to nature.
The question was arising in my mind—Have I seen him somewhere before? Maybe I hadn’t. Again, I thought I had. Some people feel close to each other the first time they meet. Maybe that feeling is called acquaintance before acquaintance. He looked at the sky and said, “That moon… don’t write a poem about him!” I smiled and remained silent for a few moments. Then I wrote a few lines on my mobile note and read them out. He smiled and said—“If you stay with us on the beach for a few days, then it will become a whole book of poems!” Hearing that, everyone laughed. But to be honest, there was a kind of sincere inspiration inside those words. The greatest achievement of a writer is when someone encourages him to write. Itu’s smile was as pure as a child’s. There was no artificiality, no arrogance. Seeing his smile, it seemed that the smile on a person’s face sometimes becomes poetry. Then Sharmin Apa and Itu sang. That melody of the cuckoo’s voice mixed with the wind of the Karnaphuli and made the night even more mellow. Beauty Apa’s Car and the Joy of the Road That day, we arrived in Najma-Prakash Beauty Apa’s car. Beauty Apa is a very lively and humorous person. She knows how to make the fatigue of the road disappear with laughter. Her simple conversation made the entire journey more joyful. But time waits for no one. Najma Apa’s call ended, but by then Sharmin Apa’s rush to return home had increased even more. So even though she wanted to, the chat did not last long. Before returning, I looked at Karnaphuli once and felt that this river knows how many people’s stories! How many unspoken words, how many unwritten poems, how many smiles, how many sighs—it is silently carrying all this in its chest.
That night I wrote a few lines:
On the banks of the river of light and darkness
The moonlight was awake,
Three smiles, one pen—
It was written in silence.
Someone is busy talking on the mobile phone,
Someone is pulling the way back home,
Someone said, “Write more,”
Hundreds of chariots were born.
Karnaphuli is not just a river,
A deep arrow of memory,
People move on, time passes—
Some feelings remain, some impatience.
Not all the happiness in life is hidden in big arrangements. Sometimes a lively chat between four people, a cup of incompletely flavored tea, a piece of Jhalmuri paper, the breeze of the river, the moon at night, and someone saying “Write more”—these small events become invaluable assets for a writer. Maybe no one will remember this night in the future. But in a writer’s diary, in a poet’s pen, in a human heart—that night of light and darkness of Patenga, the breeze of the Karnaphuli estuary, Sharmin’s melody, Najma Apa’s busyness, Beauty Apa’s lively smile, and Itu’s inspiring sentence “Write more, it will become a book of poetry”—will remain indelible forever. Maybe more poems, more stories, more immortal memories will be born from here.