Prison Diaries | Sheikh Mujibur Rahman

Prison Diaries | Sheikh Mujibur Rahman

PREFACE
The father of the nation, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, always strove to attain freedom for the people of Bangladesh. Forsaking all creature comforts, he worked ceaselessly day and night to achieve rights for the people of Bangladesh. For most of his adult life, he had to spend his days in prison.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib was imprisoned repeatedly. He was constantly put under pressure through made-up lawsuits. Not only did he have to contend with one lawsuit after another, he was also made to serve jail sentences as a result of some of them. One can also find instances in his life when he had to remain in prison even though he had served fully the sentence that had been imposed upon him. On occasions he could not return to his house despite being freed from prison, either because he had been arrested once more in this manner, or because he had been arrested in a street en route and had been sent to prison afterwards.
His Life in Prisons He launched the Language Movement in 1948. On 11 March of that year he was arrested when he initiated the movement to attain state language status for the Bengali language. He was released on this occasion on 15 March. The Student Revolutionary Council had undertaken a tour program that would cover all parts of the country to demand that Bengali be made a state language. He was involved in creating public opinion on behalf of this cause. He set up Revolutionary Councils in every district. On 11 September 1948 Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib was arrested in Faridpur. He was released on this occasion on 21 January. As soon as he was released from captivity, he resumed touring the country to create public opinion in favor of the cause yet again. He gave his support too to
the demands raised by Dhaka University’s “Fourth Class” staff members. He took part in this movement, which had been launched for legitimate reasons. On 19 April 1949 he was arrested again; he was released in July that year. After being taken to jail and then let off in this manner on quite a few other occasions he headed a procession that began from Armanitola Maidan on 14 October, 1949 at the end of a meeting held there to protest against the way poor people of the country were starving. He was arrested at that time along withi Awami League’s President Maulana Bhashani and its General Secretary Mr. Shamsul Huq.
On this occasion, he was imprisoned for two years and five months. He was released later on 26 February 1952 from Faridpur prison
In 1954, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib, now a member of the provincial cabinet, was arrested on his return to Dhaka from Karachi: he was released on 23 December this time.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib was arrested next on 12 October 1958. After having spent almost 14 months in prison then he was freed from prison, only to be imprisoned once more from the jail gate. He gained freedom this time after a High Court written order dated 7 December 1960.
The next time he was arrested was on 6 February 1962. On this occasion, he had been arrested under the Public Safety Act. He was freed this time on 18 June.
In 1964 he was incarcerated 14 days before the Presidential elections.
In 1965 he was given a one year jail sentence after a case had been filed against him for treason and for issuing objectionable statements. Subsequently, he was released after the High Court had issued a directive to release him from Dhaka Central Jail.
On 5 February 1966, in a national conference organized by the opposition parties, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman presented the historic Six-point Demands. On March 1, he was elected President of the Awami League.
The Six-point demands that Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib had submitted embodied the claims of Bengalis for their survival. The
principle of autonomy that he had raised in them contained the germs of Bangladesh’s freedom.
Because he had articulated one demand after another on behalf of his people, he was arrested in quick succession in the first three months of 1966, but only to be released afterwards on each occasion in Dhaka, Chittagong, Jessore, Mymensingh, Sylhet, Pabna, Faridpur and in some other cities. His last meeting at this time was held in Narayanganj. Subsequently he was arrested at midnight on the 8th of May. He now had to suffer imprisonment in a dark prison cell. He had delivered speeches on behalf of the Bengali people to articulate their demands and had spoken against their oppressors. But whenever he would give a public address a case would be filed against him in these instances and he would be put into prison.
On 3 January 1968, the Pakistani government made him the chief accused in the Agartala Conspiracy Case along with 35 other Bengali military men and a C.S.P. officer; they were all charged with treason and blamed for being part of a conspiracy to dismember Pakistan.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib was released from Dhaka Central Jail on 18 January of that year only to be rearrested and interned again. He was then taken to Dhaka Cantonment where he was imprisoned and kept under tight security.
Five months later, and on 19 June that year, proceedings in the Agartala Conspiracy Case began under tight security in Dhaka Cantonment to convict the accused. However, under intense and continuous pressure, the central government was forced to withdraw the charges against them on 22 February 1969. Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib and the others accused were then released. This was because the movement launched by the people of East Bengal had become so intense that there was a major revolt of the masses that led to the fall of the military dictatorship of Ayub Khan and Bangabandhu became the indomitable and uncompromising leader of his people.
In the elections held in 1970 in Bangladesh the Bangladesh Awami League emerged victorious. It secured the majority. Nevertheless, the military rulers of Pakistani prevented the formation

of a government by the League. In 1971 Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib gave the call for a noncooperation movement; the people of Bengal immediately responded to his call. The country now began to be administered according to his directives. On the 7th of March he made the historic proclamation, “This struggle is the struggle for freedom; this struggle is the struggle for independence.” He issued an appeal to his people to be prepared for armed resistance against the Pakistani Army, The entire population of Bangladesh now prepared themselves accordingly. On the dark night of the 25th of March, the Pakistani occupying forces launched an armed attack on unarmed Bengalis to destroy them.
In the early hours of 26 March, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib issued the declaration of independence and urged his people to continue to wage armed resistance. No sooner had he made the declaration that the Pakistani aggressors arrested him from his 32 Dhanmondi house, took him to Pakistan and kept him in a prison there. A war of liberation now ensued in Bangladesh. The invaders adopted a brutal “scorch earth” policy and carried out a genocidal campaign in a bid to destroy the Bengali race. At one point the members of our family were all captured by the invading forces. Even though we had shifted our residence nineteen times in a single month, we would not be spared.
My mother Fazilatun nesa Mujib, my brother Lt. Sheikh Jamal, my sister Sheikh Rehana, my youngest brother Sheikh Russel, and my husband Dr. Wajed were made prisoners and forced to stay in a house in Rd 18 of Dhanmondi Residential Area.
At this time the Pakistani Occupying Forces made broadcasts to give the impression that everything in East Pakistan was normal at that time. They wanted to give the impression that all schools, colleges, offices and courts were operating smoothly. They wanted to show to the world that they had got rid of the “miscreants who had been causing trouble and that there were no problems in Pakistan, which had escaped from a “dangerous” situation because of the intervention of the Almighty. They wanted to give the rest of the world the impression that everything in Bangladesh was under their complete control.

The Recovery of the Note Books, First Time
At around this time a Major came to us and declared, “All children interned should now be going back to school. Because Dr. Wajed worked in the Atomic Energy Commission he had the opportunity to go out of the house on a regular basis. Since his organization was affiliated with the International Atomic Energy Commission he was allowed some exemption even in that period of war. He had to go to office and return from it regularly. However, the Occupying Forces would keep him under strict surveillance.
In any case, the children-Jamal, Rehana and Russel-were to go to school. The guard said, “Bacholog sukul maye janaparega, sukul mey jao”). I said to our guards, “There are no books or notebooks at home for them to read and write and so how can they go to school?” They said to me, “Where are their books?” I said, “They are in our house but you are occupying it now. I mean our Road 32 house.”
They said in their language. “Fine; we’ll take you all there and you can bring back your books and notebooks then.”
They then decided that they would take Jamal, Rehana and Russel along with them so that each could bring the books and notebooks that they needed. I said I would go with them since 1 would not let my siblings go there with them on their own. They agreed to what I said.
My mother said to me, “If you manage to go at least once, make sure to bring back the notebooks your father had written any which way you can.” She also informed me of the places where she had kept them in her room. Two military cars and heavily armed guards went along with us as escorts.
We entered our own house for the first time after the 25th of March. The whole house bore signs of looting; the almirah doors were open; things were strewn all over the place. The bathroom wash basin mirror had been shattered and the sight of broken shards of glasses everywhere was terrifying.
There were no books in any of the bookshelves. There were books scattered all over the floor; all of them looked tattered and torn and some of our books seemed to have been looted away. But

we wanted to take along with us at least some of the books that remained. We went from room to room, followed by the Pakistani army guards as we did so. I told my siblings to pick up and take in their hands whatever books they found there.
Following my mother’s instructions, I went to the place she had directed me to. This was on the right side of the almirah of the dressing room. I located my father’s notebooks there. I tensed up since I was worried about what the men guarding us might end up doing. Nevertheless, I gathered some of the other books scattered on the floor. I then spotted a blanket after a quick survey of the room. I now wrapped the notebooks and the books with the blanket. I took along a few books and magazines strewn there as well.
My eyes kept on welling up again and again at the sight of the mess that had been created in a house that my mother had always kept in such good order with her very own hands. But I decided to control my emotions. The fact that I had recovered the notebooks made me feel that I had at least accomplished something. Many memories came back to me at this point.
When I returned to where we were staying 1 handed over the books and notebooks to my mother. The Pakistani soldiers had ransacked the whole house and taken away many things from it, but because they didn’t feel these notebooks were important they had left them behind
This work is the result of my mother’s inspiration and her requests to my father. Whenever my father would go to prison, my mother would leave some notebooks and pens behind every time she visited him. She would urge him again and again to write in them. Whenever he would be released she would immediately go to the jail gate to bring him back and would make sure to bring his notebooks along as well. She would then preserve them with great care.
Now that I had got the notebooks back what should I be doing with them?
My cousin Makhan Apa lived in Arambagh, a neighborhood of Dhaka. Her husband Meer Ashraf Ali took an active part in politics and worked alongside my father when they were in Kolkata. I decided that I would send the notebooks to him any

way that I could. I was able to do so after much effort. I was confident that he would take good care of them. If I wanted to provide the details of how I was able to carry the task of sending the notebooks to him I would have to write another piece; let me do so elsewhere and later.
My cousin sister wrapped the books in polythene and then kept them in a gunny sack. She then tied it with a rope and hung it from the room of her chicken coop so that no one would be able to think of it existing in such a hiding place. In any case, the house had an advantage in that no vehicle would be able to enter the narrow lane in which it stood.
After our war of liberation was over, my cousin sister and brother-in-law handed over the books to my mother. Although rain water had damaged some of them, the main notebooks had remained unspoiled. Recovery of the Note books, Second Time On 15 August 1975, the father of our nation, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was murdered barbarically along with most of the members of his family. No member of the family staying with him in the house survived. My mother Begum Fazilatunnesa, my uncle, the valiant freedom fighter Sheikh Abu Naser, my freedom fighter brothers Captain Sheikh Kamal and Lieutenant Sheikh Jamal, their newly wed wives Sultana and Rosy, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib’s Military Secretary Colonel Jamil, two senior officials of the policealtogether 18 people were murdered brutally. From this point onwards, the house on Dhanmondi Road 32 went under the government’s control.
My younger sister Rehana and I were abroad at that time. We were not able to return to Bangladesh in the next six years. When in 1981 the Bangladesh Awami League elected me as its President, I returned home after overcoming all sorts of obstacles in my way.
After my return to Bangladesh, I was not allowed to enter our house. I decided to hold a Milad (prayer session on the road fronting the house.
After the murderous action that they had carried out in our house on 15 August 1975, the members of the army responsible
for what happened went on to ransack our house and loot it. How unfortunate was it to have the father of the nation murdered in such a manner! He was the first President of Bangladesh. And he had to suffer such a terrible death at the hands of heartless assassins though he was the President of the country as well as its founding father!
It was the BNP government that was in power then which prevented me from entering the house in 1981. General Ziaur Rahman had usurped power at this time and had declared himself to be the President of the nation. He died on May 30, 1981. After his death, the house was handed over to me on 12 June. When I tried to enter the house for the first time, I fainted.
Even as I was recovering my senses, I was made to sign a lot of papers. I did not exactly know what I had signed away then but when I regained my senses completely I remembered the notebooks that my father had written in long hand. I then headed for his bed room to recover them. I went to the almirah that stood on the south of the dressing room. The whole house was covered in dust and debris. Spider nets filled the room. But from amidst the mess I was able to locate the ruled notebooks that I so coveted.
The only things I took up in my hands were the notebooks there. They included my father’s diaries and my mother’s account books of the family expenditure.
My greatest satisfaction came from the fact that I had managed to retrieve the notebooks that were all in my father’s hand. My heart was full of the pain of having lost everything but finding the notebooks in this house meant a lot to me. I deposited them in my uncle’s house in Khulna. I handed them over to the brother of his wife whom I call Rabi Uncle. This was because I had no place of my own to stay in Dhaka then. At that time I would live either in my youngest aunt’s or her older sister’s house. Publication Work Begins I began next to take steps to publish these writings of my father. I started to work on them along with Dr. Enayetur Rahim and Baby Moudud. Dr. Rahim was Professor of Georgetown University, America. We worked on his advice.

I had the notebooks xeroxed and deposited a set of them with Rehana. Baby Moudud took up the task of having them typed.
Dr. Rahim and his wife began translating the contents of the notebooks into English. He worked on translating all of them. But in 2002 he died suddenly. Our work stopped then.
Afterwards, we resumed our work on Professor Salahuddin’s advice.
Professor Shamsul Huda Haroon of Dhaka University, Mr. Shamsuzzaman Khan of Bangla Academy, Baby Moudud and I worked on the notebooks at this time. Ninu would type them on a computer that had Bengali fonts, and Rahman (Roma) would then have them photocopied. I purchased two photocopying machines for my house for this purpose.
In 2007 an Emergency was declared in Bangladesh. I was arrested and imprisoned. I remained in jail till 2008. While I was in captivity Professor Haroon passed away. The news saddened me a lot. I began to worry about how I would be able to finish work on my father’s notebooks. While in jail I wrote the preface to my father’s unfinished memoirs. After I was released from captivity in 2008 I concentrated once more on the task of publishing the notebooks.
It was from among the notebooks that had been retrieved that the Unfinished Memoirs was published. I have described the history of the recovery of the relevant notebooks in the preface to the Unfinished Memoirs.
We next began work on publishing the Agartala diaries, that is to say, the diaries that dealt with the Agartala Conspiracy Case, his memoirs, and his journey to China. Mr. Rahim had already done quite a lot of research on the Agartala Conspiracy Case and we now worked on the relevant notebooks so that we could publish them.
It was a matter of great sorrow for me that Baby Moudud died in 2013. I felt completely alone then. Nevertheless, it was when Baby was still alive that we could publish the Unfinished Memoirs in both the Bengali and in Dr. Fakrul Alam’s English translation. The book has already been published in several other languages. We are getting ready to publish the diaries written from 1966 to 1968 in book form. Mr. Shamsuzzaman is advising us on the issue. He has

looked carefully at each of the work and has been editing them where necessary.
Diary of Prison Life My younger sister Rehana has titled the Bengali book, Karagarer Rojnamcha (Diary of Prison Life). I have been safeguarding the relevant notebooks for a long time now. On this occasion I am finally presenting them to the people of Bengal.
In 1966 the father of the nation was arrested soon after he had presented the “6 point demands”. From 1966 to 1969 he had been in prison. During his captivity he would write down things in his diary every day. These are being published, covering the entries till 1968.
At the same time as these notebooks that he had used to write his diary I found another notebook, which has a history of its own. On 7 October 1958, Ayub Khan issued Martial Law in Pakistan, arrested Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib on the 12th of the month, and banned politics in the country afterwards. When he was released in 1960, two of the notebooks he had filled were confiscated by the government. The notebook mentioned above is one of them. However, I was able to locate it only in 2014. The Special Branch of the Police handed it over to me then. They had to go through a lot to find it and so I must give them my heart-felt thanks. This particular notebook dates from an earlier period.
On 7 October, Ayub Khan had seized power by declaring Martial Law. On 12 October, he had Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib arrested. Subsequently, he had all political activities banned in Pakistan. It was while he was interned in prison that he began to write about life in jail in general in this notebook. He had even given a title to what he had written. Rendered into English it reads thus: “A bowl, a blanket and a plate/is all that prison lets you accumulate”.
Through Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib account of daily life in a prison, readers will be able to get an impression of what life there is really like. And from this work one will not only be able to know about living conditions there, but will also find out many hitherto unknown aspects of the lives of prisoners, and learn about criminals
and discover why and how they have been initiated into a life of crime.
In those days prison life had given rise to its own unique vocabulary. Now many of those words are no longer in use. Nevertheless, people will come to know them as well as many stories of prison life through the book that they would not otherwise know about.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib was arrested repeatedly because of the campaign he had launched to make the 6 points popular. The situation after he had been arrested was very trying. The newspapers were gagged and the administration was operating tyrannically. He tried to present a picture of the way attempts were being made to deflect the attention of the people from the 6 point demands. He strove valiantly for the emancipation of the masses through a movement whose implicit goal was the independence of Bangladesh.
That the people would become free is a recurrent motif of his writings. I am not aware of any other leader of the world who was able to predict such a thing with similar conviction.
Step by step he attempted to inspire the people of Bengal towards independence and tried to encourage them to attain it.
The 6 point demands amounted to a charter for freedom. Through a valiant struggle it became a movement premised on one point-independence. Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib had organized the movement perfectly and took one step after another then in a calculated manner. No doubt the martial law administration was able to deal with them but in the end they had to concede defeat to Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib’s political acumen.
These pages will reveal how an attempt was made then to discard the 6 point demands in favor of an “8 point demands” to take the whole movement off course.
That Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib’s health was being adversely affected by the long stretches of time he had to spend in prison is something he would not ever let us know. After reading these diaries I myself have found out many things I had not known about him previously. I feel very saddened when I read of how he would

fall ill during prison life, and how there would be no one to look after him then, and also about the life he lived as a prisoner in solitary confinement, although no prisoner is supposed to be kept in isolation for more than a week at a time. It is only when someone is given a sentence that even a week of solitary confinement is allowed. And yet Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib had been isolated in prison for a long time without being tried! His only fault then was that he had spoken out for the rights of the people of Bengal again and again.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib wanted to alter the fate suffered till that time by the people of his country and free them from poverty and hunger. He wanted to liberate the subjugated and deprived people of Bengal from oppression so that they could lead better lives.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib’s only companions in prison were the flora and the fauna there, that is to say, those life forms that were free! How beautifully does he narrate here the tale of two yellow birds! I do not have the words to describe the episode retold by him here. He had a pet chicken as well and has written about it wonderfully too. He has described superbly the way the death of the chicken pained him.
The concern Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib showed at the misery and hardship of Awami League workers and leaders in prison indicate his love for them and the intensely heartfelt way he worried about them. He does not talk about his own painful situation in these pages. The only thing he describes again and again is his feeling of loneliness.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib was incarcerated in a cell that was close to where the lunatic asylum of the prison was located. He had presented the moments of happiness and misery, and the laughter and the sadness of these mad but imprisoned people with a lot of compassion. Because of them he had to spend many a sleepless night in his cell. But though he himself would suffer so much because of them, he depicted the sufferings of these people with sympathy instead of dwelling on his own distress. No doubt it would not have been possible for anyone except a leader who loved humanity so much to come up with the kind of account of such people that he provides in his narrative.
My father knew full well under what abnormal circumstances our family members had to live their lives. However, he had an abiding faith in my mother. My grandparents would encourage their son to persist in the path he had adopted from time to time. These pages reveal his deep love and respect for them. No matter how old he had become and how much of a stature he had achieved as a leader of his country, we can feel the deep love his parents had for their dearest “Khoka” whenever he wrote about them. Very few people can express such depth of love and respect for their parents as we find here. At one point he has written about his apprehension at the possibility of not seeing them alive on his release from jail because of their advanced age. But exceeding all these feelings and at the apex of his concern were his feelings for the people of his country. In carrying out his duties for them, he would always get the support of the members of his family. Because of all the sacrifices that had been made thus the world has now in it a country for Bengalis. They now have an identity of their own for this very reason. And the Bengali language has got the status of a state language for that reason too!
On 18 January 1968, he was taken, while still a prisoner in Dhaka Central Jail, to Kurmitola Cantonment. He was confined in a cell here for a long period of time. He had to endure prison life in a room draped with a deep crimson curtain, windows that had been painted red, and a high-powered light that was switched on twentyfour hours of the day. This in fact was extreme torture-something that would be inflicted on him for days.
After he had spent five months in prison he was given a notebook so that he could write in it. He mentions in it how he was confined to a room where it was impossible for him to understand whether it was day or night outside and where he had lost track of calendar days and months. That is why this particular diary has no dates for the entries he made then. It describes his trip from Dhaka Central Jail to Kurmitola. He has in it some observations about the state of the prison. In particular, he has written about how he had been implicated in the Agartala Conspiracy Case where he had been accused of fomenting an armed rebellion, the intent of which was purportedly to separate what was then East Pakistan from the rest of

Pakistan. 34 other military men and civilians were implicated in this case as well.
He has written about the insistent questioning that was carried on in the interrogation sessions. He had opted for such a difficult life for the people of Bengal’s well being. All his life he had worked for his people and he had endured hardship for their sake. God had given him the strength to endure harsh conditions but it was his love for his people and his will power that saw him through.
The first notebook was written in 1966 and the second in 1967. In addition were some other notebooks. They have all been presented in the pages that follow in a chronological order.
After the Agartala Conspiracy Case begun to be heard, he would be taken outside to a courtroom located outside his room. He was then able to see all the accused in the docks. Lawyers and family members were present as well. After the number of family members who could attend had been specified, passes would be issued to them. Only those who had these passes could go inside the cantonment. This was because the court was in session inside it.
The notebooks that he was allotted in Dhaka cantonment had numbered pages in them. Each notebook would be censored and the relevant official would sign and then seal it.
Acknowledgements The Director General of Bangla Academy, Mr. Shamsuzzaman Khan, worked assiduously to get these manuscripts ready for publication. He read them again and again as well as the proofs, carrying out revisions repeatedly. I would like to express my gratitude to him for doing so. His advice has been invaluable for me. It would not have been possible to complete this project without him. Bangla Academy has been entrusted with the task of publishing the book. Selima, Shakil and Abhi assisted me in the project all the time. I would like to give them all my heartfelt thanks. I would also like to thank full-heartedly all those who worked tirelessly at all stages of the book-from the first proofs till the eventual printing.
That I have been able to present these diaries to the people of Bengal is something for which I must express my gratitude to

Almighty Allah. The Unfinished Memoirs showed the way in which the Bengali nation moved towards reclaiming its rights. Some indication of the many and difficult steps that had to be climbed to move from the Language Movement to independence is something that can be deduced from these diaries of prison life. The distinction that the Bengali nation and Bengalis have earned by becoming independent involved a lot of tears, pain and bloodshed. How through immense self-sacrifice Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib was able to achieve something great is something that strikes one repeatedly in our reading of the diary and we cannot hold back our tears at times in reading it. Rehana, Baby Moudud and I would often work on the book with tear-filled eyes. Baby Moudud has left us but I keep thinking of her on this occasion. All of us who worked on the project could not restrain ourselves from shedding such tears.
Independent Bangladesh is the result of the immense hardship and sacrifices my father had made. Through reading these diaries the people of Bangladesh will be able to discover the fountain-head of their independence.
My mother inspired my father to write. Every time he was in prison my mother would purchase notebooks for him and ensure that they reached him there. Whenever he was freed from prison she would collect the notebooks and preserve them carefully. If she did not have such foresight we would not have been able to present these valuable writings to the nation. I keep thinking of my mother again and again at this time.
Sheikh Hasina
25th January 2017

Those who have never been to jail, and those who haven’t served time there, will never be able to imagine what living in a jail can be like. The opinion one might form of a jail from outside it will be completely reversed when one is inside it. People tend to think off a jail as a place surrounded by walls, a place where all inmates live together, but this is nowhere near the truth. There are many small jails within a jail. Indeed, a jail is a world of its own. There are prisoners here serving sentences imposed by every kind of law listed in law books. Thieves, robbers, scamps, mad men-all sorts of people live in jails! There are political prisoners here too. And there are the under-trial prisonerspeople whose trials are due or who have not yet been tried; people who have not yet been given bail. When one enters this varied world one begins to sense how diverse the people who inhabit this world of ours are. But one has to be here for a long time before one can come to such an understanding. There are three types of jail: the central jail, district jails, and sub-jails that you can find in sub-districts. In jails people don’t remain people—they become machines. Many prisoners who are guilty and many others who are innocent serve time in jails–some even have to bear life sentences there. Sub-jails don’t keep people who have been sentenced there for more than 2-3 months. They are then sent to district jails. If they have been sentenced to more than three years they have to go to the central jail.
I have had to endure jail life on five occasions. I’ve spent time in jail as a political prisoner but have also been sentenced to prison terms specifying hard labor. I’ve had to spend time as an under-trial prisoner as well. Consequently, I’ve been able to understand the kind of life all prisoners have to go through when in jail through my own prison experiences. I don’t want to write about what had happened to me here though; instead, I’ll

describe in what follows how convicts spend their days when in prison. As I mentioned previously, there are small jails within a jail. Most of the work within a prison is done by the prisoners themselves. To help the officials space has been divided here, Convicts, thus, are kept in one part of the jail. They are not allowed to come out of that part. Moreover, they are kept in separate quarters within this one space; these quarters are separated from each other with small walls. Convicts have to remain within these quarters. And there is one place called the cell area where anyone who commits an offense when still a prisoner is kept. But there are quarters too where only under-trial prisoners are confined. There are then numerous types of cellsbut more about them in due course.
It is an onerous task to count prisoners. There is a count in the morning when prisoners are made to line up and then sit down. When the guards open doors in the morning, a count is raken; another one is done at 11: one more count will be done at 12 noon; yet another in the evening; and a final one for the day will take place before doors are locked again at dusk. On every occasion the convicts have to sit down in pairs for the count. They are kept in separate wards. Some of these wards contain 100, 50 or 20 prisoners; but there are also cells with 1, 3 or 4 of them. But there are never cells containing only two convicts. This is because they might then commit unnatural sexual acts. And often these things happen as well.
There is a hospital inside the prison and doctors too. If one falls sick here, one will be treated. Work is divided in this place. Those who are educated work as writers in offices. Some work in gardens, others in the storehouse; still others in factories where they stitch and sew; a few cook or work as sweepers. All the work here is carried out by the inmates. No one is allowed to stay outside after dusk. Everyone is locked in at that time from outside. There are lavatories and urinals inside the rooms. Food is served before lockup and prisoners have to line up for it then. After they are locked up, guards are posted to patrol the area outside. The prisoners have to stay in. When one becomes a
prisoner one has little idea whether it is completely dark or whether there is moonlight outside!
Prisoners can even get “promotion” while in jail. A black cap on one of them signifies that he has become a night-guard and is guarding the gate. If they have served half their sentence, they are given this task. These guards have to put on black badges. They are posted in front of gates, or made responsible for patrolling from one wall to another. A few are made supervisors; these men are responsible for the people who are assigned to work under them. Those who have badges signifying that they are “guards” can move freely within the jail. If someone is to be summoned or fetched, the official guards will make use of these “guards” appointed from the prisoners. Directly over them are the “convict overseers”-or the people known as “mates”; these men wear leather belts in their waists. They too act like guards but their task is to supervise the “guards” assigned to their supervision. If you have served 2/3″ of your sentence you can be made a “mate”. Superior to them is the “night guard”. Like the sepoys, such men will wear belts and are given whistles. If necessary they can blow the whistle or sound the alarm bell. Those who do duty with the sepoys at night are given beds, mosquito nets and pillows. They are allowed to move everywhere inside the prison. A position over them is that of the “guards” who have been given black badges; these men have to wear belts and are given whistles as well. Their “power” almost matches that of the sepoys. They are made responsible for different “areas” and will assist the sepoys and the head guards.
Those who have almost completed their life sentences are given the “powers” mentioned above. Not everyone amongst them is given a black badge or made a night guard though. Only those prisoners who have spent their time in prison properly and have mended their ways are made night guards. Outside night guards and “black badges there are also some convicts who have been given other duties. A “mate” is kept on guard inside a cell. When the prisoners are locked up, the mate acts as the guard inside the cell. They have two hour shifts at night. When sepoys

inquire about things inside they are the ones authorized to respond to them. Each ward is numbered. Sepoys call out the numbers and the prisoners inside the cells respond accordingly.
For example, a guard calls out, “Number five!” The man with that number will then respond, “It’s all right Sir; this 50windowed home is fine.” This indicates that all 50 inmates of this particular cell are inside. In addition, it suggests that the “windows” are fine too. And so it goes the whole night long, as the guards keep calling out to check if everything in number, 1, 2, or 3 is fine and as the prisoners on guard and the mates inside keep responding to the call. At night with every change of guards every 2 hours the new guards who take up duty will follow this procedure in checking the locked up prisoners in their confined situations thoroughly. With every change in the guards outside, the guards inside are also changed, and those outside must be briefed by their predecessors about the situation inside.
A few prisoners are given the responsibility of managing the other prisoners and supervising their work. They have to spell out the work to be done by those under them and the work they have assigned thus must be taken note of duly. The torture that some prisoners have to suffer or the violence committed on some of them is carried out by some of these empowered prisoners. It was the English who came up with this strategy of “weeding out thorns with thorns”! I can’t help narrating a true story here. This incident took place in Dhaka jail. A prisoner had been sentenced to prison for a few years for thievery in a number of cases. The people of his village gave testimony against the man alleging that he was a thief and handed him over for sentencing. None of the villagers could stand this man. A few of the men who have served their time successfully are made “guards” and can later even become Convict Overseers, or mates. They then wear belts. One is made a “mate” when one is given responsibility for a certain number of prisoners. Then the mate has to look after these prisoners. The men under him for their part must do what the mate would like them to do. When a certain man was made a mate he was so overcome with joy that
he wrote a letter to his wife saying, “In the village no one would listen to me; everyone would hate me there. But by God’s grace I have become so powerful in prison that now a good number of men must do my bidding. If I want them to sit down they must do so; if I want them to stand up they must do so too. If the men under me disobey my words I take off my belt and whip them with it. No one is able to defy me. God has given me great honor thus. Not everyone is fated for such a mark of honor. What if the people in the village call me a thief? In jail I belong to the overseer class. If I hadn’t become a thief and if I hadn’t been brought to prison, no one would have honored me so. Don’t you worry about me; I live here with great honor.” He certainly never imagined that he would be honored so!
However, when such letters are sent they are examined thoroughly for their content by prison officials. When this particular letter came up for scrutiny the officials reading it burst into laughter because of its contents. The jailer, the supervisor and everyone else read the letter by turn and laughed uproariously at what they had read. The jailer sahib, the supervisor and everyone else at their level read the letter. The next day this man was summoned and his belt was taken away from him. And that was to be the end of his dictatorship. Some jailer sahib or the other had narrated this story to me some time back.
In jail certain words are used which people outside it will never be able to make sense of. The morning after the day I first came to prison a convict who was now a “guard” here came and told me and some of the men who were now my companions: “You’ll have to go to “casetokal” now?” But what on earth could “casetokol” be? We looked at each other in incomprehension. We finally said to him, “Let’s go.” We were then taken to another place. This was a place where a jail super finds out all relevant details about a new prisoner before writing him a “ticket”. If a prisoner is guilty of any misdeed he is judged here. When we came before the jail super he said to us, “You can leave; you will be weighed in your rooms and your names and all
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other pertinent details will be noted down there.” A sepoy was given the responsibility of taking me to my room.
We had a few prisoners along with us who had been given “division”; among them was Sahabuddin who was from Sylhet district. He had taken an active part in the referendum and was a man who had earned fame for the work he had done as a worker of the Muslim League. He had been sentenced to 20 years in prison after judgment was pronounced in the famous Kalabari murder case. His actual name is P.M. Sahabuddin. Everyone would jokingly refer to him as “Sahabuddin of the Mardanga political riot”. He would always be bothering many of the inmates of the jail; he seemed unable to wish anyone of them well. But he was an educated man. No one would complain against him because he would work for the inmates. I asked Sahabuddin, “What is this ‘casetokol’ all about?” He almost split his sides laughing. He said, “Let’s look at an English dictionary and find out!” I said, “Never heard of such a thing but perhaps the dictionary will have an entry on it. I guess I don’t know English that well.” The veteran convicts all began to laugh at what I had said. I looked pretty much the fool; so what could it be all about? Later, he laughed and said, “The word is really ‘case table and not ‘casetokol’ but that is what prisoners end up calling it. This is because it is in the case table that judgments are delivered. If a convict is guilty of any offence, this is where he is given his punishment. This is also where requests and demands of convicts are considered. Letters are also written on it. “And I had considered myself so knowledgeable! The thing was the word “case table” had given birth to the very distinct word “casetokol”! There are many such words and distinctive usages of them in prison. But more about this later.
The Central Jail has many departments. For example, the quarters where prisoners are separated from each other is called “Dafa”! What follows below is a glossary of jail words:
Writer Dafa: Those who know how to read and write and work in the offices here, or write letters for others, keep
accounts, write appeals for others, pen petitions and distribute letters, belong to this quarter. They calculate the number of days a prisoner has served in jail; they also keep track of the amount of medicine dispensed in the hospital. An official may be assigned one or two writers. These men assist him. They keep stock of the number of items available in the storeroom; they divide wages of prisoners; they also write down items to be procured from the market and send it to the contractors after obtaining the signatures of the relevant official. These are the men responsible for most of the problems occurring here.
Chowki Dafa (Kitchen Quarter): This is where cooking is done for prisoners. There are separate arrangements for Hindu and Muslim prisoners. Many prisoners are on assignment in this quarter. They fetch water, slice vegetables and fish, grind red pepper, distribute food items; in sum, all work related to food are carried out by the men here. However, the chowki for those who have been given “division” is a distinct one. “Division” here implies prisoners who have status in the outside world, are educated and well-respected there; only such men are given “division”. In one word, these constitute the elite of a prison. They are also said to belong to “Division-2”; there is a “Division 1” too. The under-trial prisoners belong to “Division 1”. Those convicted are said to be “Division 2” prisoners. Then there are the ordinary prisoners who are also called “Third Class convicts”. The prisoners who have been given “division” are entitled to shoes, clothes, a bed and a mosquito net. They are the ones who try to domineer in a prison. This is because these people are educated and also belong to well-off families or are government officials who are serving jail sentences after being convicted of bribery. Cooking is done separately for them. They get a bigger portion of fish, vegetables and other dishes than the ordinary prisoners. One could say that these are the happy prisoners. Mates and inmates assigned to do work in “Chowki dafa” have to work harder than those working elsewhere. But they don’t face any difficulty as far as food is concerned. They manage to take bites on the sly and even sell some of the food cooked here.

You’ll be amazed when I narrate the history of the transactions that go on in prison later. There can be very few things that one can’t access in jail. The only thing wanting here is women!
Jalbhori Dafa (Water Carrier Section): It is surely easy to grasp what the prisoners in the “jalbhori” do. There are prisoners who draw and fetch water and are responsible for supplying it to the wards. This chore is carried out by people who are physically very strong. There are “houses” in each ward that are filled up every morning with the help of the very big buckets carried there by these prisoners who use a contraption made of bamboos for this purpose. These people have to work harder than the rest of the inmates since they even have to carry water up to the third floor-all mornings and evenings. When the President of a Union Board, police inspectors or guard officials become convicts the prisoners unite and use such men to have their water fetched with their help-even from the ground to the third floor!
Jharu Dafa (Sweeper Section): The responsibility of the prisoners in this quarter is to clean and broom away dust. Old and sick men are selected for this job. All day long they have to sweep away tree leaves and whatever garbage is found strewn, no matter how minute they are. These prisoners are fortunate because there is a not a lot work to be done for them. However, a new superintendent who has been assigned to Dhaka Jail recently is making life a lot harder for them now for they have much more to do then before. This is because even the sight of a fallen leaf on the floor will make him order the mates to lock these convicts up in their cells. But these convicts are smart too. One day while I was sitting down I heard one of the prisoners tell the others, “Hey guys, let’s sweep away; sweep away; the big boss is coming!” I couldn’t figure out that easily which big boss was coming their way. When I inquired later I found out that the man who they had in mind was very strict. That is why the sweepers were talking about him. But more about this too later.
Banduk Dafa (Gun Section): There is a famous dafa whose name no one will be able to figure out easily–the banduk dafa.
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There is a section of men amongst the convicts who do the work of toilet cleaning. The advantage they seek is to get some fish pieces this way. Cooking oil too! Bidi leaves to smoke and soap as well. Lured by these prospects many convicts opt to become toilet cleaners in jail. Previously physical force would be applied to make anyone do this job. That is why among the convicts those who could force others to work would be chosen to supervise such men on behalf of the jail administration. You might ask why this quarter is called banduk or gun dafa. There is a story behind this. The night soil is carried on shoulders in a tin container slung on a bamboo contraption by the assigned men who must then throw the container in a red vehicle parked some distance away. Because of this reason those who carry the night soil end up with scars on their shoulders. This happened to a convict who had been carrying such a container for a while. Once his fellow convicts saw these scars and asked him how he happened to get them and what these were all about. To which the man replied, “I work in the banduk dafa and have to bear the gun on my shoulders for the guards. That is why I have these scars.” From that time this dafa has been known as the banduk dafa.
Pagal Dafa: There is another dafa or quarter in prison which is known as the mad dafa. A prison is full of mad men. They are quartered separately from the others. A sepoy is assigned to guard them in the morning and another one in the evening. A few convicts are specially chosen to guard the mad men. Many a convict go mad in prison itself since it is difficult to endure jail life after a while. Many other convicts became mad after having murdered dear ones. Their cases will not come up for hearing till they have regained sanity. In Faridpur a police constable murdered his wife and children because he had been suspecting her of infidelity. He was sentenced to lifelong imprisonment. Later, he became insane. There are still others who had lost their sanity outside the prison and had been sent there after being permitted to do so by the District Magistrate. Many of these mad men eventually recover but many others actually become even

madder than before. One has only to come to jail to realize the infinite variety of mad people that exist in this world. I don’t know whether I should be counted among the fortunate ones or whether I am truly unfortunate. But I was being confined now in a place that is close to where the mad men are quartered! The mad men act even madder as night progresses. They are kept in Cell 40. Each of them is kept in a cell by himself. Many keep quiet; others sing the whole night long-all sorts of songs! All one can say is that it is mad man’s music. At times they use their dinner plates as drums; sometimes they bang away on the door. And every once in a while one or two of the mad men will keep using expletives the whole night long. I don’t know who they abuse thus, but they keep using filthy language forever then.
On many a night I have had to go sleepless because of their screaming, Who can sleep when these lunatics keep shouting hideously at the top of their voice on such occasions? There was one mad man who would go berserk from time to time. When he was raging insanely he would utter the two words “Allahu Akbar” (God is great) and the word “Zindabad” (“Long live”) over and over again till the night ended. Some would call the sepoys so that they could smoke a bidi, saying, “Master! Master! Come this way!” They would continue to call the sepoy to them thus but when they would not find anyone responding to them they would replace the “master” with abuse heaped on the sepoy’s mother or sister. On both sides of cell 40 are really tiny cells. I had requested these guards again and again to keep the really crazy ones among the prisoners in them. But it is difficult to predict when any one of the others is going to lose control over himself and start screaming. On this day one was sleeping when the other one started to scream. In the morning they are taken to the bathhouse one by one so that they can bathe there. Madmen are extremely reluctant to take a bath–that is why they are forced to go into the water and are dunked in the bath house. But there are some madmen who are extremely smart and these will quickly take a bath voluntarily under a tap before he is forced to endure a dunking.

One day I stood and watched a mad man take a bath. At this time another mad man had finished taking his bath. He was shivering as he tried to dry himself in the sun. Still another of the mad men around was being forced to take a bath by a few other convicts. The mad man who was drying himself in the sun in a spot close to where I was said to me then: “Did you see? All of these people are insane; they are doing crazy things all the time!” I burst out laughing. He had lost sight of the fact that he himself was completely mad!
In 1954 I had met a mad man who had gone through a bout of insanity previously. I knew him well since although he would behave normally 11 months of the year he would go berserk every once in a while. Whenever he would be going through a phase of his life when he would stay sane he would act completely normally. When I saw him on this occasion as they were walking him away I recognized him as the mad man I had seen previously. He was called Kafiluddin. I asked him: “So how are you doing Kafiluddin?” He replied, “I’m well but they aren’t letting me go. You people won’t let me go. You’ve come here again, have you?” I said nothing and he left. But when he used to pass me by on previous occasions he would always greet me formally. He has been in jail all this time but I have no idea how much longer he will have to remain here. Then there is this other mad man who will switch to English whenever he sees me. When I inquired about him later I had found out that he was an English teacher in a school. But he had lost his balance somehow.
One day when I was going to the jail gate for a meeting with my wife I saw a mad man standing before the door where the madmen are all quartered. As soon as he saw me he said, “So how come you keep smoking away without sharing your cigarettes with us?” I said, “Come and I’ll treat you to a cigarette.” On my way back to my cell I saw that he had already been locked in along with his fellow lunatics. This man was not taken outside his cell since he was such a strong fellow. When in a rage he would give everyone a hard time and would even beat
people up then. Once when a sepoy was on duty he tiptoed to where he had been positioned and then snatched away the man’s stick. He then started to beat the sepoy with the stick. The result was that the man got a gash in his forehead. He managed to run away and save himselt somehow then. Later, many other sepoys and prisoners rushed to the spot and managed to snatch away the stick from the mad guy. No one had been able to go near him for at least an hour till then. There are some of these madmen who flare up whenever they see some particular sepoys. In such cases these men are not put on guard duty wherever the madmen are quartered. Becoming furious with a mad man or hurling abuse at him can only make the mad man madder. The only medicine in such cases is water. If somehow you manage to let them know that they would be doused in water the next day they would be intimidated into silence. I would buy bidi leaves for the mad men to smoke from time to time and this would make them very happy. I wasn’t able to do so this time around in jail since I have been forbidden to go out from where I am being kept now or talk to anyone outside.
Another Dafa is the shaitaner kal or the Devil’s Engine. When I inquired to find out what this could be I was told it was a blanket factory. The Dhaka jail has one such factory where quality blankets are produced. In particular, prison inmates are given three blankets for winter and two for summer. The blankets produced in the Dhaka jail factory provide for the needs of all prisoners of all jails in the country. Here the prisoners are put to work with wool and cotton purchased from outside. Those who have been in prison for a long time are taught how to work in the factory. They even sell the blankets made here outside. I asked a convict: “Why are they called “The Devil’s Engine?” He replied, “Sir-when the cotton keeps flying you won’t be able to recognize us because there is so much of it on our hair, faces, and clothes-they are completely covered by dust and cotton fibers. It is only after we have showered in the evening that we can take food. If we don’t wash our faces and clean ourselves completely you won’t be able to distinguish us;

when cotton fibers are all over our heads, faces and bodies we look very devilish and that is why this place is known as “The Devil’s Engine”.
Darji Khata (Tailoring Section): Among the many things manufactured in Dhaka Jail are blankets, clothes for inmates, tables, chairs, beds, and sofa. A Deputy Superintendent is in charge. He is called the Prisoner Deputy. This is a very big division; uniforms for the men in the Police Line are made here.
Muchi Khata (Leather Goods Section): This is where shoes are made. Its products could be improved a lot by installing good machines and by paying inmates working here more. Prisoners don’t really want to work–they try to avoid it anyhow. All they do is count the days they have left to spend in prison. A day has gone by; two have-and so on. If they could be convinced that more work would mean more pay they would work a lot more.
I’ll try and narrate some true stories that will explain why someone who is a prisoner might even want to divorce his wife because of the lack of food. There are not one or two but many stories to be told of jail life. When I first came to prison I had a hard time figuring out most things. For instance, one day a “pahara” or guard came and said “I have to go to the ‘sick man.” I looked at him in incomprehension for some time. Finally, I said, “What is a ‘sick man?” he said, “Sir, don’t you know what a
sick man’ is? It is the place where you can get medicine; I’ll have to go there to get my medicine.” I said nothing more to him and kept quiet afterwards. I realized that prison has its own peculiar vocabulary, I wouldn’t be able to figure out the meanings of such usage initially.
Among the prisoners who had been awarded “division” are Mr. Bari and Mr. Wahab of Barisal. We were in the same quarter. Mr. Bari worked as a “writer” in the hospital and Mr. Wahab was utilized in the same capacity in the factory. They were maternal cousins. Both had been given life terms. They had served almost eight years in prison already. They had been given sentences over
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offenses relating to a land dispute. Mr. Wahab had to leave his son at home when he was brought here. He is a good-looking young man. He has a widowed mother who died a year after he was brought to the jail. He has only his wife and son now; he had left his child behind when he was only one year old and has not been able to meet him again. Mr. Bari has a son and a daughter. His daughter was married off after he had come to prison. He seems to be tense all the time. He says nothing and doesn’t respond to queries; he avoids any kind of hassle. He keeps to himself. Mr. Wahab is the obstinate sort; he is capable of doing anything when he is angry. When they returned from work I asked them about the “sick man”. Mr. Bari told me that the “sick man” is really the prison hospital; this is what prisoners call it! This is how I was finally about to figure out the meaning of these words.
I have already talked about the jail hospital. A central jail like the one in Dhaka will have good hospital care. Dhaka Jail has a two-storied hospital which can accommodate one hundred patients. It has three physicians and a compounder. The Civil Servant visits it twice a week. He has the responsibility of looking after the hospital. It has enough medicine in its stock. It is bound to provide prisoners with whatever diet the physicians prescribe for them. This is known as the “medical dier”. Prisoners are put on a diet by the physicians when they lose weight; although not all doctors here will prescribe them such a diet. If the patient does not improve health-wise even after being admitted to the prison hospital, he might be sent to Dhaka Medical Hospital on the recommendation of the Jail’s Medical Officer. But it is unfortunate that prisoners rarely have access to quality medicine. This is because good physicians, that is to say, those who treat prisoners as human beings—are not the type who will stay in a prison hospital for long.
I have seen many a doctor in the jail hospital who are not reluctant to prescribe a “diet” for prisoners and who will prescribe quality medicine for a sick prisoner. But I have also seen many a physicians who don’t consider prisoners to be human beings, who see them only as convicts, and are even

unwilling to prescribe drugs for them when they are unwell. They pilfer drugs and sell them outside. They accept bribes in the name of treatment. When they have been bribed adequately they will admit a prisoner to the hospital for months and will let them stay there forever, even when they are not ill. Such tactics are also used to try and obtain bail for some prisoners. When the magistrate goes on inspections to the prison, these doctors will show these prisoners as “sick” and will have them admitted to the hospital. This policy can enable prisoners to get bail. It may be the case that someone from outside related to the prisoner in some way or the other has offered money on his behalf so that he can be admitted to the prison hospital and is willing to offer even more money so that the prisoner can get bail. Someone who is not suffering from any disease may be given a “seat” in a hospital month after month whereas the genuine patient will not find a place there so quickly. These things happen in the outside world too but they happen with greater frequency in jail.
On the other hand, I have also seen physicians who will not even drink the water in prison, let alone accept bribes there. These doctors look after the patients here well and work day and night for them. I have also seen physicians in jail who look good, have bearded faces, say their prayers regularly until they have a mark on their forehead from prostrating themselves regularly till they appear almost angelic; these men will shut the door and grab the eggs, meat and even bread meant for convicts till they’ve had their fill and will from time to time sell their patients’ medicine outside.
Food is cooked separately for the prison hospital patients. Here there will be a lot of talk going on when the food is being consumed. Some prisoners dare not talk though and so the food meant for them will be eaten by others at times. I know one doctor who would greet people officiously when he met them but would even accept a packet of cigarettes as bribe from them!
No incident in jail can be suppressed though. Any event here will reach the ears of the two and a half thousand convicts inside the prison in half an hour’s time.
The second time we were in prison it was the medical “diet” that had kept the Maulana and me alive. I found out after I had made inquiries much later that Mr. Nurul Amin had told the Jail Superintendent to see to it that we faced no difficulties as far as diet and accommodation were concerned. That must have been why we were paid some attention at that time.
The kind of privileges given to political prisoners during the British period was withdrawn after Pakistan was created. Political prisoners are not done any special favors anymore. They are treated like ordinary prisoners. Some are even treated as if they are third class prisoners. However, there are some who are looked after as if they were first class ones. Everything is as the I.B.’s willed it. I remember that a prisoner who was a M.B.B.S. physician had been kept in jail as a third class prisoner for three years. One of my nephews who had been studying at the Medical College was treated as a third class prisoner before my own eyes. I couldn’t bear looking at him. He was kept in a part of the prison meant for prisoners who had run away from prison once or twice or were prone to violent outbursts-really dangerous types! I myself had to stay in this part of prison on two to four occasions. This is the reason why political prisoners often end up with poor health after such treatment since they are not given a medical diet then and can be fated to be deprived of it at all times. Sometimes they are taken out of hospital regardless of whether they have been cured of the disease afflicting them or not. Physicians, however, can help prisoners a lot if they are so inclined. A prison can have patients with all kinds of diseases known to us ordinary people. There are even arrangements in prison for patients afflicted with tuberculosis.
The prisoners who are more adept than their physicians in thievery are those who are their “writers”. They work as compounders under the doctors. In prison physicians forget about giving injections. This is because most of the work here is done with the help of prisoners. Not all doctors are this way though; there are some who actually try to cure their patients here.

Political prisoners are not kept with ordinary prisoners. There are small jails within Dhaka and other jails that are designated for political prisoners. Not all political prisoners are kept in the same manner though; some are given an entire room; others have to share it with another political prisoner; at times there are fifty of them kept together; and there can even be one hundred of them crammed into one place. There are instances where a political prisoner living in a jail has not met another one kept there even though both have been spending time in the same prison for five years! As I have said before, most political prisoners are not given “division” and end up with what ordinary prisoners are allotted.
In 1950 all political prisoners went on a hunger strike that lasted sixty days till they managed to extract some concessions from the government for themselves. This event could also have taken place either in 1951 or 1952–I can’t be sure of the year now. The jail administrators can’t coerce political prisoners beyond a point, however, since they have to abide by directives issued by the I.B. It is up to the I.B. to issue instructions as to how and where political prisoners should be kept. Jail officials have to act accordingly. If anyone protests against any wrong doing, you will see the person being sent to another jail all of a sudden.
Political prisoners are regularly transferred from one prison to another. During the English period provisions for food and accommodation for them were much better than they are now. The English would even provide them family allowances at that time. The government would send this monthly allowance to their homes then. It can be extremely difficult for men interned in prison at this point of time to see that their wives or children or old parents can stay alive. After a lot of commotion took place in prison over this issue, the government created two grades to deal with the situation. Grade 1 prisoners are dealt with first and then it is the turn of the Grade 2 men. Prisoners placed in Grade I are given 2 chataks of fish and two pieces of flat bread and tea in the morning. They don’t get any butter, eggs or anything else.

What I will narrate now has to do with 1952. No good vegetable would be served then. But prisoners who had been given “division” would get butter with their bread; we would not get any of these items. We would be allowed an interview” once every fortnight. One letter a week was allowed. But this would have to be written in the I.B.’s office room. The I.B. official would read letters written to wives. They would be regaled by letters expressing love. After all, what was wrong in getting some kind of amusement even in a jail? If a prisoner was the recipient of a letter that had anything to do with politics he would not receive the letter. If the letter was at all delivered to him then it would have ink smudges in spots that would prevent him from reading those parts of it. I have letters that had been sent to me by my wife or father where half of a letter had been blotted by black ink. No doubt my father had been consoling me in that part or had been telling me not to worry overmuch!
An I.B. official would take a seat when a prisoner would be meeting his relatives. There would be a deputy designated by the jail administration present at that time as well. Only 20 minutes would be allotted for each visit. All talk would have to be concluded within that time period. And yet it takes 20 minutes only to warm up in conversations! Their cruel keepers can’t seem to appreciate the fact that when one meets one’s wife in prison one would like to kiss her! But what can one do? We weren’t raised in the west. They don’t think kissing is an offence there. A husband has a lot of thing to say to his wife but this is impossible in the situation existing in our prisons. At times I feel like prohibiting my wife from showing up. There was a time from 1949 to 1952 when I had told my wife not to come to Dhaka jail to meet me since at that time she had to live in our village home with my two children.
From 1949 to 1950 a case implicating me for violation of section 144 dragged on for a while. This was actually filed against Mr. Shamsul Huq, Maulana Bhashani, Fazlul Huq, Mr. Abdur Rouf and me. The case was lodged when we took out a
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procession after holding a meeting when the late Liaqat Ali Khan had come to Dhaka for a visit. The procession was dispersed after we had been lathi-charged and Mr. Shamsul Huq and a few others had been arrested. A few days later Mr. Hug was arrested; later it was Maulana Bhashani and, one and a half months later, my turn to be taken to prison. All except the three of us were made political prisoners. That is why we could not be eligible for bail. We had become prisoners who were a threat to state security! We could only be released when the government felt like releasing us. Prisoners without trials! Our release depended on the wishes of the government. The case went on for a year. The Maulana and Mr. Huq were eventually released.
The remaining three of us began to serve sentences after three-months of hard labor were imposed on us. We had to serve out sentences involving violation of state security as well as hard labor! Appeals were then filed. But I was sent to Faridpur. Only Mr. Huq was released after 7/8 months. The Maulana and I had been kept in the same jail at that time. We were not kept with the other political prisoners. They were afraid that we would be converted into communists if we stayed with them. The communist political prisoners constituted the majority. I was sent away. The Maulana lived separately. When it was time for him to leave, he burst into tears. I realized that the old man was feeling sad.
I was sent to Gopalganj since I was the accused in another case lodged there that also involved violation of Section 144. When I was brought to Gopalganj I learned that my parents had gone to Dhaka to meet me. I wasn’t kept in a sub-jail since there was no space for me there. I was now dispatched to Faridpur Jail. I would be given interclass fare and so I spent my own money so that I could travel second class. The poor sepoys had never treated me poorly and had been very polite in their dealings with me. They cared for me immensely. The money the government had allotted for me was enough for only one meal a day and I would have to do without a second meal on the steamer. But I spent money from my own pocket for this purpose.

In Faridpur jail I was locked up all by myself. There were other political prisoners but they had separate places designated for them. But I was being kept all by myself elsewhere. The hospital let go of one of its rooms so that I could stay in it. At first food would be sent from the hospital kitchen. Later, they would have food brought for me from what was being cooked for four or five other prisoners who were also being held for posing threats to state security. These prisoners were being kept separately and had their own cooking arrangements. I was assigned work after I had been brought to Faridpur jail. I had to cut cotton threads since I was no longer a political prisoner but a convict serving out his sentence. After I had served three months thus my sentence for hard labor was fulfilled. I became a purely political prisoner once more.
After a few days I learned that my appeal had been upheld and so I could be released. I had served my sentence and my appeal had also been upheld! There should have been no need to write all this. There is a jail with political prisoners who are kept in one room and have their cooking done before their own eyes. But I had been kept in jail all by myself. I have no idea what my fault was. I had not violated the prison laws and yet I had to stay all alone. But I had to go to Faridpur from Gopalganj only once a month. I used to breathe the free-flowing air on steamers, boats and cars then. Talking was forbidden but not greetings. Some of the people here knew me and so everywhere I was taken I would greet the people I came across. But that was all I did. For otherwise the sepoys assigned to me would have lost their jobs since the 1.B. officials were around. Once, someone had given me some sweets in Madaripur Station. Why I had taken these sweets was something that the sepoys had to account for. In the process they had become suspects as well. One of them was about to be suspended then but somehow managed to save his job by some desperate pleading. That is why I would never talk to the sepoys. If anyone asked me anything I would say, “I am a convict and have been forbidden to talk.” The sepoys would otherwise get into trouble on my account.

Prison has a Law Dafa: This is the hardest of dafas. If a prisoner is the type who can get agitated easily, he will be sent to this quarter immediately. They will be herded as if they are cattle and will have to extract oil up to an amount that has been clearly spelled out. They will have a guard hovering over them and if they are seen to be slackening even a little the whip will fall on their backs instantly. This quarter had been made use of extensively during the British period and continued to be used in the Pakistan period till 1950. It was shut down in the central jail by 1949 but continued to survive in district and sub-district prisons till 1951. It is impossible to describe how even physically strong men would become weak after serving time in this quarter in a year’s time.
When I was in Faridpur jail I witnessed men being used like a bullock in an oilseed crusher to extract oil. One day I said to the Jailer sahib, “The government has issued an order saying that convicts can’t be used to work like a bullock and pull an oilseed crusher. Why, then, is your jail continuing to use such a method to extract oil?” He said that they would stop using this method in a day or two and that they were about to purchase bullocks for the purpose. As I’ve indicated above, the bullocks would now replace the convicts! The jailer actually discontinued this practice while I was still in prison. If he hadn’t I would have had to protest such a practice or petition the government to discontinue it. I had asked a man who had become sick because he had been used like a bullock for the oil extracting machine about the difficulties he had faced because of this work. He said, “Sir-after having gone round and round like a bullock in working the machine all day long, when I would go to bed at night I would not be able to sleep at all. Look at how my health has been ruined by such work; I just haven’t been able to recover from that period of my life. May God bless you and grant you long life. If you hadn’t intervened who knows how much longer I would have to work like a bullock on that machine!” In jail everything that is said spreads like wildfire instantly.
There is also a “dafa” known as the Dal Chaki Dafa. The men in this section have always had to grind dal (lentils) and wheat. The practice continues. Physicians here will examine the health of prisoners and will then select those who secure “good” marks in the examination. These prisoners then have to ground a maund of lentil every day; those who have got “medium” marks will have to ground half a maund! In addition, each of these prisoners had to ground ten seers of wheat every day.
Hajati Dafa. This is where on-trial prisoners are kept. These are prisoners who have not been granted bail and whose trials are currently being held. These prisoners are kept on the third floor of a building in Dhaka Jail. There are six rooms in total here. When such people are kept in jail and their cases are being heard no one inside such rooms can get to sleep at all. All night long the inmates pray, recite verses from the holy book, keep counting on prayer beads, hold prayer sessions and go on chanting the name of God.
One morning in 1949 I was arrested and brought to this prison since I had not been given “division”. There were a few other prisoners inside the room 1 had been brought to. I was kept with them. Some under-trial prisoners who had been denied bails were being kept there as well. The food that was served here was lentil soup, a vegetable dish and rice. What could I do? I was very hungry and so I had what was served to me. The cooking was so awful the cooking oil used was smelly, the food itself, especially the rice, was full of clinkers. I somehow managed to make do with the lentil soup. After all, I would have to survive anyhow!
In the afternoon I came across a Maulana-a Hafiz, that is to say, someone who knows the Koran by heart; his father was a famous pir or saint of Comilla district. He would give a speech before the start of prayers and then a sermon in the middle of it; the convicts would listen to him all the while. I listened to his speech from afar on this occasion. He said then, “Recite the Darud Sharif loudly and the verses will drive away Satan. Read it as loudly as you can.” He then discoursed at great length. He was
good looking, young, and had a very impressive manner of speech. But the cloth he wore was very large in size. This was what made me suspicious. It stretched to his feet and must have been six or seven yards in length. He had a rosary bead in his hand. From time to time he would close his eyes as he discoursed.
l inquired to find out what case had been lodged against this Maulana. One of the guards here told me; “Don’t you know? He has been accused of rape! He used to teach a girl student and had forcibly abused her, right inside the mosque. The girl was 11/12 years old and when she screamed out people came inside the mosque and discovered what was going on. They then got hold of the Maulana and gave him quite a beating. He had to be admitted to the prison hospital for a while after he had been brought to jail.” I said, “And now that he is in prison he has begun preaching again!” What an imposter! He has been putting on quite a show.
After dusk we were locked in. The Hafiz was being kept in the floor above where I was in. After the early evening prayer he conducted a Milad session, then recited verses, and then held a discussion session. It seemed to me that he was out to show everyone here how adept he was in the Koran and how he had mastered it by heart. However, he had been proved guilty in the case lodged against him and had been sentenced to four years of prison life. He had applied for “division”. On inquiry it was found out that he was from a reputed family. However, he was denied bail because he had been convicted of using brute force.
When I returned from Faridpur I found out that the Hafez Sahib had invited the division” prisoners to be with him so that they could read the Koran together. I had a talk with him. I said to him: “How could you do such a thing with a student? And that too in a mosque which is God’s home.” He said, “The charges against me are all made up; I am incapable of doing such things.” But in trying to prove his innocence with an excess of words he betrayed himself to us. There are many Maulanas who feast on a lot of chicken dishes in the house of their followers. That is why they have an excess of energy and can’t be content
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with only one marriage; they end up marrying three or four times. For many of them it is natural for them not to do any kind of physical work; they can run their families on the alms they receive and thus they tend to be very strong. But there are also many Maulanas who work selflessly for others and don’t charge anything for the work they do; these men will marry no more than once. These men also tend to be far less virile.
There is another “Dafa” in prison that is quite horrifying-the Chhokra Dafa. Prisoners who are very young and convicts are kept in the same quarter, but are separated from one another. They are not allowed to be with ordinary convicts though. Strict discipline is maintained in this case. Jail is a place for sodomy. Many men come to prison with sentences that can run from 20, 10, 12, 5, 7, 4 or 3 years. There are many who are very youthful and cannot contain themselves; these are the people who indulge in such horrifying activities. They even spend money for such purposes and keep young boys with them. They feed the young boys they get hold of all sorts of delicacies. But if they are caught in the act of sodomy they are humiliated a lot. I remember one particular incident. A man was caught in the act of sodomy. The other prisoners blackened his face with ink, made him wear a garland of shoes, and while a man kept beating him with stick, he was paraded all over the jail. He was then brought to where we were being kept. The man was avoiding looking up at us and at first I couldn’t figure out the situation. Later, I found out what had happened from someone after inquiry. He said, “You’ve seen nothing; he is going to be roughed up even more after a while.” There are strict rules that apply in such cases; yet despite all restrictions, such things keep happening in jail. That is why when someone asks for a young boy he is not usually granted his request. The sepoys on guard and the mates keep a very alert eye to prevent such things from happening.
For a few days some young boys were kept close to where we are being confined. When we go out for walks in the morning they were out too. At least 60 boys who are between 6 to 15 years of age were being interned as convicts at this time. These young
boys were used as “scouts” by bands of dacoits or thieves to gather information about the state of households. They would be given training for their jobs. Some of them would work in these households; they would run away from their jobs and leak all the information they could gather during their employment to the thieves and the robbers. Many of these young boys had been pickpockets. It is difficult to believe that they could have done such things. There is this 8 year old lad here who has been to prison thrice already for picking pockets! They will serve time in jail for a while and then will be let off since they are minors. They will then revert to picking pockets once they are out again. The pickpockets are part of a big racket. There are even financially big sardars or headmen who are employed in such activities. They gather all the loot from these boys. But there are boys who work on their own as well.
I inquired about his background from one of these boys. He said to me then, “Sir, how can one expect someone like me to work as a servant in a house when my daily expenses amount to 10/15 taka day. It is much better to make a killing, give a portion of what I earn by doing so to the police, and then lie low for a while. The danger is only when I get caught red-handed. But how long will they lock up someone only guilty of picking pockets in jail?” Such boys lose their fear of prison life once they have experienced it. There are some older men among the prisoners who probably think of their own children when they see such young boys in prison; these men treat the boys affectionately and will at times even forego their meals so that the young ones can eat a full meal. Such older men are full of the paternal instinct.
When these boys end up in jail they receive training from the pickpockets and dacoits here so that when they go out into the world again they become even more adept than before at felony. I know of no instance where a prisoner became a better person because he had been to prison.
Once in prison I was lying down in bed and reading the newspaper. I was all by myself then and had been segregated from the other political prisoners. I was in one of the rooms of
prison known as the “Dewani” or “civil room”. There were two convicts who had been assigned to look after me. One was called Nabab Ali [Village-Shankar; Post Office-Boaiel; Police Station-Dhamrai; District-Dhaka] The other one was Hossein Khan (village- Sharkhati; Post Office-Shyampur; DistrictBarisal] The first one was serving a 10 year sentence and the second a seven year term for murder charges. They had to do work outside. The sepoys were on guard here.
This incident took place in 1948; in all probability in the month of December. All of a sudden, a convict on guard duty embraced my feet and cried out, “Save me! I’m being murdered.” I wasn’t permitted at this time to have any convict stay or talk with me. Startled, I asked the man, “What is the matter? Tell me what has happened to you.” He was trembling as he said to me, “I beat up someone and now I’m going to be beaten up after they got hold of me. I’ve no problem if I’m punished after I’ve been duly tried but they shouldn’t manhandle me.” By this time the sepoys had come and got hold of the man. The mates and the guards had all been looking for him and had managed to find him out. Later, he was taken to the case table. There was a subedar or lowly-ranked prison guard official there whom I talked to in order to ensure that he was not going to be manhandled since he had sought protection from me. This guard official followed my instruction. Meanwhile, I saw a convict being taken to hospital by 5/6 other convicts. He had been assigned to work elsewhere but had been assaulted with an iron rod while asleep. This had resulted in him losing some teeth. Some of his other teeth had been loosened as well. His name was Ali Hussein. He was serving a 20 year sentence; in other words, he was serving out what is known as “lifelong imprisonment.” His village was in Mymensingh district; the man he had assaulted was called Mahtab and was from Dhaka district.
The two had been at each other’s throat for a long while; both were fond of the same young convict! Ali Hussein would take special care of the youth and see that he was being fed. He
would give him bidis to smoke. However, this young fellow would live with Mahtab and do more work for him. As soon as he had eaten, he would go away to be with Mahtab. At nighttime, he would sleep near where Mahtab was on duty as a guard. This was why the enraged Ali Hussein had managed to leave his own place, elude all the guards, and head for the spot where Mahtab had retired after he had food so that he could assault him. Ali had subsequently rushed to where I was so that he could seek my protection. If he had been caught then he would have been roughed up badly. A Bengali phrase that is the equivalent of “roughed up is quite in use in prison; anyone who is punished physically is said to have been “roughed up”! Such incidents take place in prisons all the time.
Dhaka Jail has anywhere between 2,000 to 2,500 prisoners in its confines.
When I was in jail in 1950 I became acquainted with a convict called Lutfur Rahman, a.k.a. Ludu. He had a house in Lutfur Rahman Lane. I saw him here again in 1954; when Martial Law was proclaimed in 1958 and I was put in jail once more I met him yet again. He would try to assert himself here, claiming that he was the most senior prisoner of the jail. He knew all the laws relating to prison life by heart. He would quote the law at every turn. He would complain to the Super and the Jailer if anything took place here that went against what he knew. He was a “B” Class prisoner. Ordinary prisoners were in awe of him. This was because he was a very brave man and would not be subservient to anyone. He used to supply water and work in the “Sweeper” brigade as well. A jail warder was posted on duty where I was. He was gentle and amiable in his ways. His name was Kader Mia. He used to tell Ludu, “Lududo change for the better; don’t steal anymore.” I would be in my room on these occasions and their conversation would drift into my room. I would listen to their exchanges quietly.
Once I called Ludu and said to him, “Do tell me about your life.” Ludu said, “Sir, you don’t need to listen to the story of my life—it has been a miserable one. I’ve been in prison for 20 years
now. I began operating as a thief and a pickpocket from the time I was a thirteen year old boy. I still don’t know why I took this route. I’ve suffered all my life. I guess I will not find peace in this world. Thieves and pickpockets can never know peace.” As he said these words, tears rolled down Ludu’s eyes. No doubt a lot of sad memories came to his mind then.
Ludu went on with his story and I began to write down the events in his life that he talked about. Many might ask me why I’ve bothered to narrate the life of a thief. I am doing so because the life of such a person reflects the state of our society. Only people who attempt to reflect on the lives of people in our society will be able to understand the malaise afflicting it and realize how someone can end up as a pickpocket or dacoit in it. God did not create anyone as a thief or a robber. All human beings are bestowed with the same qualities at the moment of their birth. On the day a person is born no distinction is made between a rich man’s son and a poor man’s one. But each human being grows up gradually according to the circumstance he or she is in. The son of a prosperous or well-off man gets to eat well, wear good clothes and get a good education. And the son of a poor man ends up according to the conditions he comes across after his birth and the kind of people he mixes with then.
Ludu’s father’s condition was not really that poor. He was reasonably well off. But he had married seven times and had fathered many children. In addition, he had acquired some bad habits, for he would waste a lot of money on alcohol and fermented drinks. And whatever money he had left after drinks he would spend on Sundays on horse races. Afterwards, he would be totally bankrupt. This is how the family gradually became ruined. He began to be accused of misconduct and fell into penury. Ludu’s mother was the man’s first wife. He had four children by her. The other wives had given him nine other children. The family eventually became totally impoverished.
Ludu had an elder brother who worked as a mason. He would spend whatever he earned at work on himself; he had
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inherited some of his father’s vices. He too would spend money on horse racing and gambling.
Ludu’s mother hated her husband because of his other marriages. This compelled Ludu to take his mother away from him and live with her. His eldest brother apprenticed Ludu to a tailor at this time. After he had spent a year thus, his father took him back again and made him an assistant to another mason. But the money he earned in this profession was not enough to make ends meet for him and his mother’s family.
At this point his father died and his eldest brother became head of the family. But Ludu wanted to study. He asked his brother to send him to school. But his brother was having a tough time managing the family and needed more money than he could earn by himself. He began to use force on the other members of the family. Compelled by such a situation, Ludu and his younger brother left their house and went to their grandfather’s home. This was in Dhaka city. In the grandfather’s house they ended up doing nothing. At this time Ludu came across some youths who frequented restaurants, or gambled or wasted their time in talk. In short, these people kept spending money recklessly.
Close to his grandfather’s home was a young man who was a thief. His name was Gopal. Ludu got introduced to Gopal. They would go out together every now and then. He said to Ludu once, “What are you doing at the moment? If you work with me you’ll make good money.” Gopal confided everything he did to Ludu. One day they decided that Ludu would accompany Gopal later that night when he went out on a thieving expedition. He should not be afraid and would only have to follow Gopal’s instructions. This is how he began to go on thieving expeditions with Gopal every now and then. Gopal would give him cash money for his efforts. When money would come to Ludu’s hands he would, of course, be over the moon. He would spend freely on tea and cigarettes and buy some good quality clothes as well then. After accompanying Gopal on these thieving missions for some time, one day he felt like striking out on his own; he was 13/14 years old by this time. He figured that if he stole things all by himself he
would be the sole owner of the money he got that way. At first things worked perfectly for him. Soon, he became more and more daring. This was how he spent three months stealing things whenever he could. When he managed to get some money in his hands he sent his younger brother to school with it.
It was about this time that he got caught on one of his thieving missions. He was roughed up quite a bit and then sent to jail. The Police Constable lodged a case against him and dispatched him to jail. He had to spend almost three months in prison at this time. This is also when Ludu met some veteran thieves; he now learned new techniques of felony from these men. The magistrate decided to release Ludu because of his youth. There were some conditions he imposed though: Ludu would be forgiven if his eldest brother posted bail for a hundred rupees for him and if he stayed away from felony for a whole year. Ludu’s eldest brother agreed to post bail since his mother kept weeping for him. He signed a bond and Ludu was released from jail.
Ludu stayed away from trouble for a few months but he reverted to thievery afterwards. This was because he was in need of money. After two or three month’s time he went out on a thieving mission once more. A man he had met while in jail had taken Ludu along on the mission. But Ludu was caught stealing and ended up with a nine month sentence on this occasion. Convicts tend to shower their affection on the young boys in jail. Many of them had to leave their children behind and thus would feel their paternal instinct arise at the sight of these youths. They would even skip eating their share so that these young boys could have their fill.
But there was also a group of men among the convicts who were fond of boys and would thus stalk them. They would bait these boys with attractive bits that they had gathered. The boys would thus not want for bidis or tobacco. These reprehensible men soon succeeded in making the young boys immoral.
Because he had spent nine months in jail without encountering any difficulties, Ludu now felt that being in prison

was nothing much. In fact, he felt that this was a place where one could spend one’s time easily enough! In addition, he felt that he had been able to learn all kind of techniques of felony from the professional thieves that he would use for the gang that he had created here. When they were let off the members of the gang began to operate together on thieving missions. But when he was released this time the police had been instructed to keep an eye on him for another year. Night after night policemen would call on him at night from 12 midnight to 4 am to find out whether he was inside his house or not.
He had learned the techniques of picking pockets in jail. Since at night the police would be on guard in front of his room he felt that it was best to pick pockets during the day. He began to slit pockets. Five months passed in this manner. At one point the police summoned him to the station and one of them told him. “We have been keeping track of what you are up to. If we can catch you at this time we will sentence you to prison for three years. And you will be whipped. Why don’t you stay in touch with us?” Ludu now felt that he would have to be in the good books of the people in the police station if he wanted to avoid trouble in future. He had learnt about this policy when he was in prison. Now when the Head Constable said to him, “Why don’t you keep in touch?”, he knew that he would have to offer some money to him.
One day after Ludu had got hold of a good sum of money after picking pockets he thought: “Why not find out how the Head Constable will treat me now?” He went to the bazaar and purchased a big fish, some vegetables and potatoes. With these and a ten taka note in his hand he went to the Head Constable’s house and said to his servant, “Is Sahib home?” The servant replied that he was. Ludu told him to inform the Head Constable about his presence. Ludu’s territory as a pickpocket then was Lutfur Rahman Lane. The Head Constable came out and said, “Why have you come? And what have you brought along with you?” Ludu could see that the Head Constable was delighted. Ludu said, “Reverend Sir, what I have brought for you is really nothing; I am

a poor man and so where would I get anything more?” The Head Constable said to his servant, “Take the stuff inside.” Ludu gave him the ten taka note as well. The man pocketed the note but said, “You must have made quite a killing and so why give me only this ten taka note? Give me more money.” Ludu said, “I have only a little with me. Please keep me in your good books and I’ll try to keep you happy as often as I can.” The Head Constable said, “How much do you intend to pay me every week?” Ludu replied, “How can I answer that question? Whenever I make a killing I’ll bring something along for you.” The Head Constable said, “That’s fine with me but you must also give ten taka to the sepoys and guards who serve here. And you must give me a share of whatever you manage to steal. I will come to know for sure of whatever you are up to. You won’t be summoned at night anymore and so go ahead and do whatever you want to.” The Head Constable now issued instructions so that he wouldn’t be sought out at night anymore. And so Ludu resumed thieving at night and would pick pockets during the day. He began to get a lot of money now. He now began gambling and drinking the local liquor regularly.
Ludu told me, “This is how I spent five more months. One day I set out on a mission to pick pockets in the railway station, oblivious to the fact that this was under the jurisdiction of the Railway Police. I had no idea that I would have to appease them if I wanted to operate here. I got caught in the act of picking a pocket and the money I had picked was in my hands at that time. I was taken to the G.R.P. where I was roughed up. One of the men there said, “Where are you from? Will you be able to come up with a lot of cash to save yourself?” Ludu said, “I will be able to come up with at least a little.” The policeman replied, “The Head Constable will be willing to let you go only if you are ready to spend some money.” The policeman asked him to cough up 100 taka for the Head Constable and twenty-five taka for himself. Ludu said to the man, “I don’t keep so much money in my house but please give 70 taka to the Head Constable and accept 20 taka yourself.” Ludu went on, “The policeman agreed to do so and I gave him my younger brother’s address. Having given him 90
taka, I sent the policeman off to the police station. The sepoy reached there with my brother. When the Police Constable got the money he said something or the other to the policeman before dismissing him. A little later I was released as well.”
“Next I made sure that the G.R.P. police would be with me. I would pick pockets every day in the railway station area. In the morning I would do so in the station and give a share to the G. R. P. police. And in the evening I would do so in Sadarghat. I would give a share of my earnings there to the police people at headquarters. This is how I spent two more years of my life. One day in this period while I was attempting to pick the pocket of a man on a bus, I saw a gentleman observing me intently. I withdrew my hand instantly. The gentleman, however, gestured with his eyes that I could go ahead. When I felt reassured I picked the pocket of the man I had targeted. When I got down from the bus, the gentleman got down too, along with two other men. I took these men to a restaurant. There was 700 take in the packet that I had picked. I managed to remove 400 taka from it and leave 300 taka in the packet.”
Ludu went on to say that the gentleman and his companions belonged to the C.I.D. The 300 taka was now distributed; Ludu got 100 taka as his share and the men 200. He continued, “We decided jointly that this is how I would continue to operate on buses and was reassured that they would save me if I got caught. They would often stick close to Ludu when he went out to pick pockets. He did get caught on a few occasions and later these men did manage to have him released.. Ludu continued, “They saved me on many an occasion when I was about to be physically assaulted. Later, the C.I.D. police people would back me as well. Emboldened, I became quite reckless and now began to pick pockets and steal carelessly. It was around this time that I got arrested when I was trying to pick a pocket in Sutrapur Bazaar near the Iron Bridge. I hadn’t given anything to the police people in Sutrapur; I guess even if I had bribed them on this occasion I would not manage to get away with what I had done. This is because the people who had arrested me
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were outsiders. I spent three months locked up and was sentenced to 18 months in prison later.”
“This time in jail I became a true professional. I learnt how inside the human neck there can be a ‘treasury’. Professional thieves and robbers manage to create a cavity inside their neck through a surgical operation carried out by physicians where they can stow away 5/7 gold coins or 8 to 10 guineas at any one time. 7-8 currency notes can also be kept here. They can even keep two to three 100 taka notes wrapped in cigarette paper this way. No one will believe how they manage to do such things unless they see them do so with their own eyes. They secret away the money thus since when in prison having the money with them procures them certain advantages with the sepoys and the head guards. They purchase marijuana, opium, dried hemp leaves and what not! They spend the money they have with them so that the lips of the jail officials can remain sealed.
When thieves and dacoits are about to be roughed up in jail they can manage to save themselves by bringing out a guinea from the “treasury”. They will even get bail in this manner! Ludu now tried to create a cavity on his own. According to him, “There are two kinds of cavities: “raw” and “finished” ones. Raw cavities are constricted ones and you can’t keep much in them. If a blow is directed at the head or someone squeezes the neck of someone who has this kind of cavity, there is the possibility that the stored away coin or note will spill out. But no such thing will happen if you have created a “finished” cavity; unless you bring things out voluntarily from it no one will find out about the place. To create a “raw” cavity inside himself, Ludu inserted a lead piece with a thread inside his neck. In such a case, the thread would usually be tied to his teeth so that it would not go down. If the contraption created this way would be kept inside the neck for some time a cavity could be created inside the neck. If a gold piece would be stored here for a while the cavity would eventually become a “finished” one. If this would not happen an operation performed by a surgeon would be needed to create such a cavity. Ludu had a “raw” cavity” made for himself on this

occasion. At this point a brawl over some youths amongst the convicts led to skirmishes with knives that resulted in the transfer of ten of the policemen here. As a result, Ludu had to spend the remaining days in prison.
“When I was released from jail this time,” Ludu said, I had become a truly professional thief. I now had a “finished” cavity inside myself. I sought out my old gang members and we soon formed a threesome who had become acquainted with each other while picking pockets in Dhaka city. We decided that we wouldn’t be able to continue as pickpockets in this city for a long time. We would have to go abroad. The three of us headed for Sylhet after we came together.” Sylhet was then still part of Assam. Ludu said, “We disguised ourselves as leather traders and stayed in a house in Srimangal. They would buy some leather hides and salt them as well as pick people’s pockets. It was here that he wedded the daughter of the owner of the house. But a few days later he got caught while picking pockets and had to spend time in Mawluvibazar jail. When his father-in-law came to know that Ludu was a previously convicted thief, he proceeded to have his daughter’s marriage with Ludu annulled. Here Ludu was sentenced to jail for nine months. Afterwards, he was imprisoned a few more times.
It was when I was interned in jail in 1949 that I came to know Ludu. Ludu was released in 1952 but was back in a prison in 1953. This time he was handed a 9-year sentence on three different counts. If he had stayed here properly he would have been able to come out after serving 6 years.
But it is difficult to change one’s nature. He felt would have to make use of his cavity. “B” class prisoners are treated with respect by all. There is no limit to the beating he had to endure by this time though. One day he told me, “I’m a little deaf because of the number of times I have been slapped in the ear.” No part of his body had been spared!
It seemed to me that he did not feel good unless he took some body blows. He was scared of no one; everyone in prison treated

him deferentially. When the Superintendent came to review the “file” once a week if he felt it was necessary to do so, Ludu would salaam him and say, “I’ve a complaint.” Apparently, previous supers did not pay any attention to what “B” class prisoners had to say but Mr. Niamutullah did so attentively. One day when I was spending time in prison, the Super Sahib listened to Ludu’s complaints for half an hour. He complained against everyonefrom the jailer to the subedar and even the doctor! Some of what he said was the truth. He knew full well that he would land himself in trouble because of such complaints. But he couldn’t be bothered! This was because he had been permitted to stay in his cell at nighttime. He did not have permission to go outside during the day. He carried water and swept the floor but the work he had did not amount to much. He did what he felt like doing!
He would sweep my garden from time to time. He would also water the plants there every now and then. He would not say “no” to me.
This time I found Ludu a somewhat changed man. He said, “I won’t pick pockets again and intend to live an honest life from now on.” He did not like being interned in a jail any more. At times he would talk about his wife and felt sorry. This was because his mother-in-law had come to have her daughter divorced from him twice. Ludu was agreeable but his wife wouldn’t hear of it. As far as she was concerned, her mother had willingly married her off to a thief. According to her, “Why would my parents then insist on the divorce now? I would suffer whatever fate has in store for me. I will stick to the end and see how far he will proceed in the way he is going.” Ludu expressed his regret as he narrated this to me, saying “I’m not sorry for myself but for destroying her future. The son we had is dead as well. I don’t know how she can go on this way.”
Who knows what Ludu would do once outside the prison? But from what he said it seemed that he had begun cursing his own life!

2nd June 1966 i Thursday
Waking up in the morning, I heard that some people had been arrested the previous night. The prisoners and sepoys were talking about what had happened. I became worried. It was not difficult for me to understand that Awami League leaders and workers had been hauled into jail to foil the strike on June 7. A government having unlimited power could do anything it wanted to. Had such a popular’ government started arresting people then? Wherever posters had been put up, they would be taken down; permission to use microphones was not given; the government had become much more repressive than before. I was living in a room all by myself in one corner of the jail. How could I know from there what was going on elsewhere?
Meanwhile, prisoners, sepoys, and jamadars had all become busy. The D.I.G. (Jail Superintendent) Sahib was supposed to show up in the cell area that day. I was kept in the cell area. Except my room, all else had been placed in cells. Those who were staying there were inmates of the worst kind. Some of them had escaped from jail, or tried to do so once or twice. They were being kept in this area. The D.I.G. would come on inspection visits to one part of the jail each week. If the prisoners had any complaints, or had any problems, or if someone was being treated unjustly, they could bring their complaints to him. If someone had any grievances, that could also be expressed to him. If jail workers tortured prisoners, that too could be brought to his notice. In addition, he would observe if the place was being kept neat and clean.
He was supposed to visit the cell area today. After I had come to the jail he had come visiting with the jail I.G. Sahib once before. One evening at around 10:00 when I had become very

sick he had come to see me in person along with the civil surgeon.
Because he was coming for inspection this day, there was a lot of excitement. They had been whitewashing the place. Latrines were being cleaned by the prisoners. The day took on a festive look. My mate and the prisoners cleaned up my room. Every day they could do some cleaning but today they took special care. If any garbage would remain the mates and the prisoners would be punished. The most painful thing for a prisoner was that the “points” that they had earned by working during the day could be taken away by the jail authorities since they had the right to do so.
I came to know that twelve or thirteen people had been brought in that night. Nobody could name them, or if they knew their names, they were not going to disclose them. Some of the names would be published in newspapers. Although we were staying in the same jail, not only was it impossible for us to see each other, it was also not possible for someone new to get any information about them. But I was an old intern and had been a “guest” in this jail many times before. Certainly, I would be able to find out what had actually happened. The D.I.G. Shahib arrived with the deputy jailer and the others. He came up to my room and even sat down there for a while. He asked me how I was doing then. I said that I felt a lot better and had no problems. There was no point in asking him why I was being kept in solitary confinement. The intelligence branch had supposedly issued this order. I knew very well that in future nobody would confess to anything even if required to do so, for in any case, he would have left after a while. I remained seated in my place. All I kept thinking was: who could be the people who were going to be kept here?
Advocate Abdul Momin, Publicity Secretary of the Awami League, Obaidur Rahman, Cultural Secretary, Hafiz Musa, the President of the Dhaka City Awami League, Mustafa Sarwar, President of the Narayanganj Awami League, Shahabuddin
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Choudhury, Vice President of Dhaka City Awami League, Rashed Musharaf, Joint Secretary, Dhaka City Awami League, and Awami League workers Harun-ur-Rashid and Zakir Husain had been put in cell number ten. There was no cell worse than it in Dhaka jail. We were kept there at first; we had protested and had come out of that place; air didn’t enter that cell even mistakenly. I felt depressed. I talked to the Deputy Jailer Sahib. I heard then that Momin Sahib had spoken to the D.I.G.
Mustafa Sarwar’s business would be badly affected. Absence for a day could spell the ruin of his jute business for him. I felt disturbed. I had no doubt though that the movement would not be hampered because of the arrests of its leaders. I realized, however, that everyone would be brought to the jail; nobody would be released if arrested. The only plus point was that Mizan had come back. I knew that some others would stay put out of fear. Mr. Hafiz Musa was an old man; perhaps he would be suffering most because he had never been in a jail before. But he was a tough man. Choudhury Sahib was a soft man. Others were firm though. My mind was all worked up at the thought that the movement could be disrupted.
Somehow, I finished breakfast. I waited for the newspaper eagerly. It was eventually delivered. After a long time, Indonesia and Malaysia had reached an agreement. They had signed a joint declaration about being good neighbors. A news item from Muktagacha, Mymensingh reported that the police force itself had taken down posters posted for 7 June in broad daylight. The same thing had of course happened in Dhaka and other places already. And this was the freedom we have been enjoying!
I saw a really amazing story in the newspaper. In the Morning News a feature had been published on Mr. Mashiur Rahman, the NAP leader, along with his photograph. The same story was featured in /trefag and other newspapers as well. He had given his response to the Six Points. He had said that if the Six Point Program were to be implemented, then it would create a secessionist mindset in the people of the country. If he were to be the President, he would not allow the Six Points to be
implemented. Through such actions, so-called “progressive” elements such as him were being exposed to people. People know full well how a few leaders of this party had been conniving to support the misdeeds of the Ayub regime. At the same time, they were trying to bluff the people by calling themselves an “opposition” party. They were even calling themselves “pro-Chinese.” How could the citizen of a country be seen as progressive when they were supporting another one? And yet they had been proclaiming loudly that the people’s demand for self-government was “secessionist.” I don’t want to discuss personal matters but any investigation will reveal how many times a month such people take trips to Rawalpindi and Karachi, pursuing permit businesses under assumed names. This class is self-serving. Previously, Maulana Bhashani too had talked against the Six Points on the pretext that the two parts of Pakistan would be separated by such a move. I know the Maulana Sahib very well because he came up with all sorts of proposals to me on different occasions, even after he had joined the NAP group. I don’t want to say much about that. But the editor of Sangbad, Mr. Zohur Hossain Choudhury, knows the truth; Zohur Bhai had told him not to reveal such things. Maulana Shahib says one thing when in West Pakistan and another when he comes back to East Pakistan. He adjusts his tone according to the ideology of the person he is dealing with. Nobody knows him better than 1 do. But to do politics one must have some basic principles; one must certainly have the courage to speak the truth. The heart and mouth should not go separate ways.
It was now afternoon. I got up, putting the newspaper aside. A little later they came to shut the door of my room. I went in and started reading a book. That is the one thing I can do now. After finishing my meal I lay down.
At two o’clock in the morning I woke up all of a sudden; a madman had gone berserk. He was shouting at the top of his voice and making a lot of noise. In the evening another madman started to shout; at my request they took him somewhere else. Why blame the jail authorities though? How would they know at
what point a madman begins to lose control over himself? Would sleep come to me anymore? It had rained a lot and the cell felt much cooler now.
30 June 1966 I Friday As I couldn’t go back to sleep, I went out as soon as the door was unlocked again. I saw the jamadar shahib had put on a lungi and was proceeding toward old cell number 20 with two prisoners. It was still raining and he had an umbrella on his head. I could see that some new interns were being “imported”. When new prisoners are brought in they are called ‘imports’ and when they leave they are called ‘exports’. From my verandah I could see that the Jamadar Shahib was returning after having deposited two prisoners in the old block. I said to him, “I guess you couldn’t sleep very well last night.” If I had asked him a direct question he would not have answered it. He said, “How can I even work in peace here as long as you are around?” Things had remained the same since two o’clock last night. I realize that there had been some more imports.’ I didn’t ask him any more questions. Prisoners in jail keep themselves informed about happenings all over the world. After the rain had stopped, I came to learn that the two new arrivals had been taken to Cell 10. The inmates kept saying that both belonged to Sheikh Sahib’s party. How would I get to know their names? Later, I learnt that one of them was Mr. Shamsul Huq of the Dhaka district Awami League; the other person was not a member of the Awami League but someone who had opposed our party all throughout his life. He was a man called Abdul Majed Sardar. He was a well-known Sardar, that is to say, a headman of an old Dhaka locality. However, at twelve o’clock he was released. It was easy for anyone to figure out why he would be freed.
I could not concentrate on my reading that day. I kept thinking about what was happening outside and about the condition of our men, for Awami League workers were being tortured and arrested all the time. I kept waiting for the newspaper impatiently; one o’clock went by and so did two
o’clock. I was very upset by this time; I then sent for the Jamadar Sahib and asked him why the newspaper had not been delivered yet. This was not fair; the newspaper was usually delivered in the morning and now it was half past two! He left for the jail office to find out the reason and came back later to say that the Deputy Sahib had not signed it yet; newspapers do not come into jail until he signs on it, it is censored here too. At three o’clock the newspaper was finally delivered. Half of it had been smudged with dark ink and it was thus not possible to read it anymore. They had obviously blocked the names of those who had been arrested; not only the Ittefaq but also the Azad and the Pakistan Observer had thus become unreadable! Jail authorities have no right to censor news. Only if the news item is about an event related to the jail, such as the escape of a prisoner, or a hunger strike going on inside it, should the news item be censored; it is not right on their part to censor anything else. I lodged a complaint with the Jailer Sahib and the Deputy Jailer Sahib to the effect that if they didn’t want to give us the newspaper they were entitled to do so, but they had no right to mess up the newspaper in the process. I learned that Jailer Sahib was not well and hadn’t come to his office. The Deputy Sahib would show up later.
I couldn’t go for the walk I usually take in the evening this day. The reason was the state in which they had kept my colleagues. They had not been given any division. I could see what had happened clearly. By the time I had been given division after three days, it had not been possible for the new D. C. of Dhaka to remember the state in which these people had been left. This was because he had been transferred by then from Mymensingh by Mr. Moneim Khan. His past “achievements” were well-known to many and I was hoping that those misdeeds would be remembered forever. After all, sinful act cannot be suppressed forever!
Alas! What a country and what politics! Those who had been behind Lumumba’s assassination had forfeited their lives one day on the gallows. In Congo, one of its Prime Ministers and four others who had been ministers were hanged in public.

There were twenty thousand onlookers present. Imperialism was even now playing its game of chess in the Congo. The path General Mobutu has chosen is strewn with thorns. That you have to give blood in exchange for blood is what one should not forget. One may not agree on principles or the road to be taken, but that is no reason to be involved in conspiracies to assassinate people who hold different opinions; that is a dangerous route to choose. A lot of people end up being affected by the consequences of such evil actions.
I was not feeling well. Most of the cells had been locked up by now; mine, too, was going to be locked up next. The door was shut. For a while I sat down silently. Pressed by the mate, I sat down to eat, “Sir, take a little more of the fish and a little more of the vegetable.” The man was getting worked up about feeding me. “You are such a big man; how can you survive on only half a poa of rice?” I kept thinking: how will I ever repay such a gesture of affection on his part? My cook, Keramat, is a clever fellow. He said, “Sir, you probably don’t know this but the two or three hundred prisoners who live here pray for you all the time. They say they wouldn’t have a care if you were in power.” It saddens me to think that I will not come to any use for them. 1 keep hearing a lot of stories. I heard about what the other prisoners were saying, but it was true that whenever I went to the jail office and would meet some of them there, they would go out of their way to show their respect to me in the presence of the jail officers. Even those who would normally keep to themselves would come forward then. Some of the older people would burst out saying, “We pray for you, son.” The reason 1 couldn’t eat was because of the quality of jail food. What inmates cook doesn’t taste good at all but I still have to eat it to survive. Those who have been brought here in the last few days have not been given division. I don’t know where they were being kept or what condition they were in now.
It had been cold before, but now that it had started to rain it had become even colder. I lay down. If I could only get to sleep in jail, things would have been so much better!
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4th June 1966 1 Saturday
As I was sitting outside in the morning, I saw one of the men who used to work as a sweeper being taken to the jail hospital because he was sick. Soon after his return from hospital, he came to see me. After he came, he said, “Please let me go. If you tell them that, they will set me free from the jail.” I said, “I’m a prisoner just like you. If I had the power to do such a thing, why would I come to jail in the first place?” He said, “A stroke of your pen will be enough to set me free.” I said, “I have a pen but I don’t have the authority to pass such an order.” But would he listen to me? He had to be released! He told me “I’ve spent ten to fifteen years in jail and yet they won’t release me!” After questioning him I came to know that he had been in jail for five to six years by then and had become slightly crazy by this time. At first he had been sentenced to hanging, but later his sentence was commuted to twenty years imprisonment. His father had died when he was young; his mother had also passed away while he was in jail. He prays the whole day and seeks God’s blessings for everyone. Everyone tries to tease him but he never gets upset. He speaks very slowly. The time he had already spent in jail had not been credited to him properly. Whenever he has time, he comes to me and says the same thing over and over again. Later, I came to realize that the other prisoners would egg him on saying, “Get hold of the Sahib, keep at him and you will surely be released.” Not only the prisoners, but the sepoys and jamadars too had kept telling him to come to me as soon as he could so that he would be set free. And so where else would he go? He’s here already. There is no sense in making him understand anything.
I told the cook, “I’ll cook today; call me when everything is ready.” I sat down to study. It was drizzling every now and then. I would have to stay inside the cell since it was not possible for me to go out anywhere. Every day they were bringing in more and more people who had been arrested. Most of them were from Dhaka city and were being deployed to thwart the hartal.

At nine o’clock when the cook came and called me, I went to the kitchen and sat down on a chair. I would never get the time to cook when I was outside. But after 1 was jailed I would cook whenever I was alone. It was at least a way of killing time. I fried some vegetables and then cooked some fish. Dal had been cooked already. It didn’t taste too bad no doubt since I had cooked it myself
The newspaper arrived but I became upset after reading it. They were bent on closing the door to politics forever from this country! The National Assembly had been considering a bill titled “Government Secrecy Amendment Bill”. According to it, one could be taken to court for saying anything. In addition there were the Defense of Pakistan Rule (DPR) and the Security Act of Pakistan. And there was Section 124 as well!
I was being indicted for giving a speech under Act 124 section 7(3) of the East Pakistan Special Powers Ordinance as well as under the Defense of Pakistan Rule. In all they had framed five cases in addition to the three other cases that had already been brought against me!
Professor Yusuf Ali had given a good speech. But what did it matter if he gave a good lecture or not, for does anyone listen to anyone else anymore? The government keeps making all sorts of promises. During the Indo-Pak war many leaders and workers of political parties were jailed according to the Defense of Pakistan Rule. Even after the Tashkent Peace Agreement had been signed, many political leaders and workers kept being arrested. Surely, they would be using this law too against members of the opposition political parties once again. It was clear in which direction they were taking the country. They were distorting any speeches or statements made to file cases against politicians.
Reading the Ittefaq it was clear to me that the paper would not be able to publish any more news about the 7 June hartal under orders from the government. A few days earlier it had declared that no news could be published that implied that “one wing couldn’t exploit another wing;” No news could be published

about students either. And it won’t be able to publish the directive that I have issued as well. And now they had issued this order on Ittefaq. And this was freedom of the press! We will die of shame; perhaps the rest of the world is laughing at us seeing the kind of freedom of press we have in our country. In a country where the right to express oneself freely has been snatched away, how can one expect the press to be free? Those who can’t understand the gravity of the situation at this time will never be able understand it in their lifetime!
My fear is that these people are taking Pakistan down the road of the politics of terror. We don’t believe in taking that path. This path won’t lead to true independence for the country. Because of the repressive policy of the government, politics in Bangladesh will be ultimately driven underground. Those of us who intend to do good for the country by resorting to the path of democracy are finding our way blocked. It is frightening to contemplate the consequence of such policies for the nation. As they say, “if you dig a hole for others, it is likely that you yourself will fall into that ditch and die.”
Some good news: the Soviet Union and the East Pakistan government have signed an agreement for the construction of a power plant in Ghorasal. The Russians will supply all the equipments. Ordinary people of Pakistan want to see friendly relations being established between Russia and Pakistan.
Indonesia had staged quite a show for the world, all political parties have been ordered to register themselves! It is almost as if it has issued from the same womb as Pakistan!
I started reading my friend Shahidullah Kaisar’s novel Sangsaptak. I am enjoying reading it; I have no time to read such books when I am outside the jail. Members of the Awami League and our young student activists continue to work for the party. They have not lost heart even after all the arrests that have been made so indiscriminately. I like what I see here. It is not difficult for workers to serve jail terms if movements are being launched outside.

I was a bit surprised today to read the Azad, the first news story they have is captioned, “Bhutto’s resignation from ministry imminent.” I was not at all surprised when I thought that such an outcome was inevitable. Dictators use people when they need them and throw them as they would tattered clothes when they no longer have any use for them. But while tattered clothes can still have their uses, people don’t have any use for dictators once they have been exploited by them. They are disposed of forever. No one is allowed to utter even a word then.
Around three o’clock, the electric fan overhead stopped working, In between it had rained but the heat just wouldn’t go away. I sent word to the jail office again and again to have the fan fixed. In the evening they finally showed up for that purpose. Late in the afternoon I went to the kitchen and cooked some chicken. I wasn’t able to do a good job because I couldn’t mix the spices properly.
It became dark. I would have to go in a little later and so I walked around a bit. What else could I do other than read inside the room? And so I took up the book again when I went back. Later, I started thinking in the silence that reigned. I thought of my elderly father and mother. Would I be able to see them again when I was discharged from jail? They were not at all well. My father has become an old man. It is difficult for them to come and see me here. All I could do is pray to God saying, “Please keep them alive and in good health.”
5th June 1966 1 Sunday After I got up from sleep I went out and sat down for a while. The jamadar had arrived; I heard that the lunatics were being given baths. When I walked a little I came across them-all in the nude. They were being taken, one after the other, and forced into the wash tub which was crowded with them by then. They were giving them a thorough shower. Who knows for how long they have been suffering such a fate? How much longer would they be held there in such a state? They improve from time to time but then lapse into madness once more. Some of them had

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murdered their own people; some had become madmen already when they committed murder. Some had become crazy before coming here and had been brought to jail because they could not be handled normally outside it. But very few people improve after they are brought to prison. It would take so long for the one or two that did to be released from here that they would end up losing their sanity yet again. I’ve also heard that after becoming cured one or two would leave for good, but have also been told that most end up in Azimpur graveyard. Chatting about them with my wife on one occasion, I told her, “If I ever become mad, don’t send me to a lunatic asylum or the mental hospital of a jail.”
I got hold of Foni. He had become crazy for a while but was all right now. He was not a bad singer. I said to him, “Foni Babu, please sing a song.” He sings Kirtars and mystical songs quite well. He used to go from one part of the country to another to sing. When he would sing it would seem that he had been transported to some other world and had left this one. He would sing one song after another. It is impossible to say how many songs he had in his stock. His stock of songs was indeed limitless. Nowadays I listen to him regularly because he works as a cleaner here.
The jamadars and sepoys also listen to his songs. Everyone loves him because he is so simple. There is no difference between what he says and what he feels. I used to listen to such songs when I was young. In the jail it was good to hear them again. He had some work to do but I had none. I would have to let him go. I therefore came back to my room and buried myself in Shahidullah Kaiser’s Sangshapeak once again.
It was raining a lot today. When it stops raining it becomes quite humid. The electric fan has gone out of order again and I have to call for the mechanic. It has been raining all day long. Today N.A.P has also scheduled a public meeting. It is important that this meeting be held. They are holding such a meeting after a long time. Because of Maulana Bhashani’s errant principles this party has been losing whatever popularity it once had.

Awami League workers are being arrested all the time; eight more workers have been arrested in different parts of the country. The government is continuing with its policy of repression. But a people’s aspiration cannot be suppressed through such moves. A movement for democracy can only be tackled through democratic routes. It seems unlikely that the path they have chosen will yield good results. Awami League leaders have been subjected to too much persecution. From the time they presented the “Six Points” program to the nation they have been prepared to endure pain and suffering. It was not a bid to capture power, but a struggle to save people from repressive politics. Even after the repression they have had to endure, Awami League’s workers would not break the laws of the country and create disorder. Nevertheless, our posters are being removed by the police; the government’s people are taking away our printed posters forcibly.
I think Mr. Moneim Khan must be acting on advice he has been getting from his friends in his travels to West Pakistan. But he has forgotten that this is East Bengal and not West Pakistan. The people of East Bengal can stage movements and withstand repression. He boasts a lot; he keeps berating politicians. But people don’t have short memories and don’t forget such things easily. When he was a supporter of Mr. Khwaja Nazimuddin and Mr. Nurul Amin, he used to be a senior member of the Mymensingh District Muslim League. As a nominee of the Muslim League in the Constituent Assembly in Karachi, he would vote for the Muslim League at every opportunity to suppress the language movement. In Mymensingh, he would hire thugs to torture our workers. He would oppose any movement taking place in East Bengal; how can he ever forget that? He alone is responsible for putting Rafiquddin Bhuiyen, the Awami League secretary of Mymensingh, in jail for two and a half years. It was on Moneim Khan’s advice that Mr. Nurul Amin used to act in Mymensingh. He was a member of the Constituent Assembly till 1955.

Even after the Muslim League was driven out of East Bengal in 1954, Moneim Khan continued to be involved with Muslim League activities till 1958. From 1947 to 1958- a long stretch of time– a Muslim League government was in office for nine out of eleven years in the Central Government. During this period, he never spoke out against the repression taking place in East Bengal even for a day, despite being in a position to do so as a Muslim League member. On the contrary, not only did he support the West Pakistan policy of suppression, he took allowances for doing so. I felt like laughing when he would invoke Islam, but would not speak the truth; I find it funny that he wears a prayer cap even as he badmouths politicians. Whenever I was outside jail I never felt like responding to their queries because I always knew their jobs depended on the generosity of their master Ayub Khan Sahib. If one could keep him happy, everything would be fine for them, and so why would they have to give a fig about public opinion then?
The newspapers were delivered. Seeing the Pakistan Observer, I thought that perhaps they would at the very least publish a little of such news these days. I would always read the Observer. However, once I had been so upset with the newspaper that I had stopped reading it for a few days. But I resumed subscribing to it subsequently, after all, it is a newspaper published from East Bengal. It is not a platform for the views of the industrialists from West Pakistan, as is the Morning News. It is not a blind supporter of the government either. The Azad would cover some of the news of our part of the world all the time. The views it expressed might differ but why would newspapers print news that is not important? I read the newspapers until it was late afternoon.
The only thought preoccupying me at this time is whether our workers would be able to carry on the movement without their leaders. I believe that the Awami League and its selfless student league workers would be with them. There are also a number of labor leaders who would take part in a movement

selflessly for the sake of the workers–surely they would also be providing active support. Despite all the arrests that had been made, they had still not been able to shut them up. They were holding public demonstrations and taking to the streets to publicize the hartal that was scheduled to take place on June 7. When posters were removed forcibly, they would replace them with more posters and bring out new ones and issue more pamphlets. Truly, I did not expect so much from them.
In the afternoon I sipped tea while I was sitting outside my cell. Then I devoted myself to activity that would keep my body fit. A little while later it began raining again. The rain finally stopped before evening set in. I was taking a walk outside when I saw that someone from the hospital had raised his hands to greet me. Because he was far away, I couldn’t recognize him. Besides, I didn’t have my glasses on. But I thought that he must be someone from the Awami League who had fallen sick and had been brought to the hospital. I sent for my glasses. After putting them on I saw that it was our very own Shahabuddin Choudhury, Vice President of the Dhaka City Awami League. He gestured to me and placed his hands on his stomach to tell me that he was suffering from stomach pain as well as fever. The poor fellow had never been in jail before. This was his first time and since he was unwell he would no doubt have a breakdown in these circumstances. However, when I inquired about him the next day, I found out that he was feeling a lot better.
It was getting dark and I washed my face and hands quickly. I came back to my room; I was locked in again. From evening until sunrise I have to stay in the room. But I was thinking only about 7 June. What would happen on that day. People would certainly go on strike; I can gauge public sentiments in this respect.
6th June 1966 I Monday A general strike has been called for tomorrow. I know the people of East Bengal; they will certainly take part in the strike and demand the release of all political prisoners. They will show
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their support for the Six Points too. But the way Mr. Moneim Khan has been scheming, he surely intends to foment trouble. He knows very well that people don’t support his government but pretends not to be aware of such sentiment
I came back to my room and began reading a book but my mind became restive; I could think of only one thing! That’s how the whole morning went. I could find no interest in food or drinks; nothing felt good. Just before lunch the newspapers were delivered
They continue to arrest everyone; our workers are being imprisoned. The Jessore Awami League office has been searched. Mr. Mashiur Rahman, once a minister and an Awami League leader, has registered his protest. Mr. Nurul Amin has been critical of the arrests of Awami League workers and leaders and has demanded that they be released. He has said, “Rules enacted for eliminating our enemies are now being used to arrest leaders revered all over the country; such arrests have stunned the nation.” Basic Democrat members of Dhaka have issued a joint statement demanding my release as well as that of all other political prisoners supporting the Six Points, and urging people to join in the peaceful movement that had been launched.
Nine Awami League M.Ps have also denounced the arrests and imprisonments strongly and have demanded that all political prisoners be released. In support of the hartal, the Awami League, Sramik League, students and youth workers have been organizing street meetings in support of the general strike. They also took out a torch procession for this purpose. Workers have not lost hope despite the endless acts of repression and suppression that they have had to endure. They are carrying on the movement; surely the people’s demands will be met!
The Governor has issued a threat once again at a meeting held in Narayanganj. He said, “Any effort to break law and order will be dealt with severely.” But the Awami League never wants to break the law; it doesn’t believe in that kind of politics. But who will sit in judgment on those who are the custodians of law
and order but who are inciting people to break it? What can one expect when those in government who are themselves the custodians of law are harassing workers in illicit ways, and doing so unjustly so that they can be brought to justice? Mr. Moneim Khan should know that from 1949 onward Awami League workers have gone to jail and on numerous occasions they have had to become defendants on trumped up charges. Previous governments and their spokesmen have issued similar threats against them on many occasions in the past.
The Government has tortured our workers after imprisoning them and has even locked them up for over twenty-four hours. Narayanganj’s Mustafa Sarwar and Shamsul Haq, who were once M.P., Hafez Musa Sahib, Advocate Abdul Momin, Obaidur Rahman, Shahabuddin Choudhury, and other leaders like them, have been interned as “C” class prisoners. I can’t imagine how a government that thinks of itself as a civilized one can be guilty of such acts.
I cannot but thank the Azad for coming up with the bit of news that they have been publishing, 1 live alone; I’m not allowed to socialize with anyone. Those who have not had such an experience will not understand how difficult it is to spend time alone. However, I have faith in myself; God has also given me the strength to endure. I think only about my colleagues here and about how each one of us has been kept in isolation in jail! Such sacrifices cannot go unrewarded and has never been overlooked in the past. I may not enjoy the reward of such a sacrifice and may not even see the results, but our descendants will surely enjoy the blessings of freedom. The formidable stone walls of the prison have also made me formidable. The prayers of the millions and millions of mothers and sisters of this country are with us, we will certainly be victorious. Our ideals will be realized through our sacrifices.
I began gardening in the afternoon. My time just won’t pass. There is no one here that I can talk to. I had planted some squash seedlings; now the plants are sprouting. The jhinga is also
growing. I have tried to redo the flower garden. It is very beautiful to look at now; everyone praises it! The flowering plants have been given a new lease of life.
7th June 1966 I Tuesday I woke up from sleep in the morning and thought: “What can happen this day?” The way Abdul Moneim Khan has been talking it’s likely that something or the other would happen this day. Crossing the almost impenetrable walls of the prison, news has reached me that stores, private vehicles, buses, and rickshaws have all been made to stop operating. The hartal is taking place peacefully. The Awami League is implementing the strike entirely on its own. I have also come to know that police and ansars have taken over Dhaka city. I believe that our people will not do anything illegal. People in democratic countries all over the world have the right to protest peacefully. But this government will not let peaceful protests be staged here.
I have also learnt that the government has used tear gas and that lathi charges-assault by stick-wielding police men-have been carried out all over Dhaka. I can’t figure out fully what is really going on though. Prisoners keep talking to each other; the sepoys are always chatting. From these endless exchanges it is not difficult to find out some news of events, but in jail rumors are inevitably rife.
Sometimes these rumors prove to be true; sometimes they turn out to be false. A few people have been arrested and brought to the jail office-most of them are quite young. They were picked up from the streets. After twelve o’clock we came to know for sure that the hartal had been observed and people had participated in it spontaneously. They support the Six Points movement and want freedom; they want to live; they want to eat; and they want their rights. That they want all those things are evident from this hartal; the laborers want their legitimate rights, the farmers their right to live; the hartal was clear proof of what they want at this time.
Although I heard all of these things, I couldn’t console myself. I am all tensed up inside and outside. I am a prisoner; what more can I do except wish for the happiness of my people? In the afternoon I heard more rumors about more police firings and even of a few people being killed; apparently, a lot of people had also been injured. One person had passed away in Medical College Hospital. A part of me thought that all these things could be true but another made me wonder: can the government be so daft? Section 144 had not been issued, and so why should there be police firing? A little later, however, I learned that Section 144 has been enforced in Dhaka. No more meetings could be held in Dhaka anymore. I also came to know that tear gas had been used in a few places.
Many more people had been arrested and hauled in by late afternoon; they had been charge-sheeted in summary courts that had been set up. Some have been sentenced for a month and others for two. Most of them were picked up from street corners. Most of them apparently claim that they were only passing by when they were picked up and yet they had been jailed. I passed the whole day like a madman. Before I was locked up in my room I heard that in Narayanganj, Tejgoan, Curzon Hall, and in a few places in the old city shots had been fired and some people had been killed. I can’t figure out if such news stories are true or false. I can’t ask anyone anything. The sepoys talk among themselves and prisoners pick up bits of information from them and then tell me some of the things that they hear.
One thing everyone said though was that the hartal had been observed successfully. Apparently so successful a hartal had not taken place ever before-not even on the 29th of September! In my mind it is comparable to Sept. 29.
I was saddened by the news of the firings and deaths though. The amount of tobacco I used to puff in six days previously I was now puffing in four days. What would happen next? What was taking place now? Where were they taking this country? All kinds of thoughts were upsetting me. And with such thoughts the day ended for me. Every now and then it would occur to me

that I had nothing to give to the workers and the students and laborers who were carrying on the movement at this time except my love.
I felt strong again eventually and was able to see in my mind’s eye that victory was inevitable; no earthly power could suppress us anymore.
It had become quite late but I couldn’t go to sleep. All sorts of thoughts flashed through my mind. What a predicament! I tried reading a book and then newspapers; but nothing could calm my mind.
I forgot to write that in the afternoon the jailer had come to see me for a few minutes. I could see that he was not well. He had come to see me though he was sick himself. I told him I was depressed and that he should come back one or two days later for I had a few things to say to him. He said, “I will” and bid me good bye.
The coverage in Azad was quite good – it was captioned, “The Awami League observes Hartal in the Province.” “The Awami League attempts to implement the hartal successfully on its own.” It had covered all events of the hartal well. The headline in the Pakistan Observer was simply “Hartal. The coverage here was okay. Mizan had issued an excellent statement, but then what good is a sermon delivered to thieves who will not be bothered by any scruples?
8 June 1966 I Wednesday Waking up in the morning, I heard that in the course of the night police had managed to fill the jail up with prisoners. A lot of people lay sprawling in the jail office in the morning as well. By 8 o’clock in the morning approximately 300 people had been brought to the jail. Among them were six to fifty years old people! Some were boys who were crying for their mothers. They could not even feed themselves properly! They had been kept standing before the case table. They were not given any food throughout the day. Many young people had
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been brought in with wounds; some had injuries on their feet; others had cuts on their forehead; some even had fractured arms. The jail authorities apparently didn’t think that they needed any medical attention. After their arrests they had been held elsewhere; in the evening they were deposited in the jail. Throughout the day they kept bringing more and more people; among them were really little children who had not yet been weaned! Some were school students. A few of the prison wardens were behaving well with them but others were treating them roughly. I was forced to let the jail authorities know that they should stop abusing them for otherwise there would be trouble. The government had sentenced them after trying them summarily in mobile courts. Some were given three months terms and others two months in prison; some boys were handed out one month sentences. Even ordinary prisoners, some of whom had come to jail on charges of murder or robbery, were sorry at the arrest of such young people. The infants cried for their mothers throughout the night. They hadn’t even learned to take their food properly. How could anyone expect proper treatment from such a Government?
I couldn’t figure out how the jail authorities would provide accommodation for all these people. Young children are supposed to be interned separately. After they had been brought in, news came of random firing in which a lot of people had died in Tejgaon and Narayanganj. Tear gas shells had been fired all over Dhaka city. They had also resorted to lathi charge. What could one do except sit silently and express sympathy wordlessly? Although I am prone to being emotional, I also have the ability to control myself. However, no one except a prisoner can understand how receiving such news in prison can affect a person.
Persuaded by my fellow prisoners, I sat down for breakfast. But I could not eat at all. At lunchtime I found myself in a similar situation. I was feeling very upset since I was not getting the full picture. I became impatient for the newspapers to be delivered. They were taking too much time to arrive. At two

o’clock the newspapers finally came. Exactly what I had apprehended turned out to be the case. The government had blocked any news of the hartal from being printed. There was no news of the strike; only a government press note had been issued. It was the same case with the Azad, Ittefaq, and the Observer. And this was supposed to be “freedom of the press”!” Ittefaq was only four pages big this day and no news from the districts had been published in it. I didn’t have the slightest doubt now that the hartal had been successfully observed in different districts.
Glancing at the newspapers, I broke into a sweat. How dreadful! The government press note acknowledged that ten people had been killed because of police firing. I am horrified to think how many more actually died since the Government itself has admitted to ten fatalities! The government press release does not even imply how many people have been injured. It is as if all the blame lies with the people! Wherever government representatives have been inciting people, the Awami League has been saying clearly, “we want to observe the Protest Day peacefully.” It has been instructing its workers accordingly. There can be no sense in blaming the people now. Wherever policemen had not been present, no unpleasant incidents took place. In Chawk Bazar and other places the general strike had been observed peacefully.
Shooting took place just after the proclamation of Section 144 at 11 am. If it was announced beforehand then workers and the people would have known about it easily. When the Awami League announced its program in the newspapers, it was clearly stated there that a procession would be organized at 10:00 a.m., a meeting in the afternoon, and another procession subsequently. Section 144 had not been proclaimed then. It is easy to conclude that the mess has been engineered by some government agents and overenthusiastic staff members who had been egged on by some senior party leader or the other.
People can never trust a government that issues press notes based on falsehoods. All my life I have been hearing, “police

resorted to firing out of self-defense.” Who can ever believe such stuff anymore? What will happen to the parents and children of those who have been killed? The children had been eagerly looking forward to the return of their fathers; the fathers to the time when their children would be home. They looked forward to the money that would be sent to them at the beginning of the month when they got their pay; now they would not return anymore and the money would never ever reach them again. I felt totally down. I could not console myself in any way. Why do people take the lives of others so selfishly?
But the sacrifice made by the dead ones would not be in vain. Since the people of this country have learned to sacrifice their lives to achieve their rights, victory will surely be theirs; it is only a matter of time before they emerge victorious. Workers had come out of their factories; peasants had stopped working; businessmen had shut down their shops; students had left their schools and colleges. Had protest of such magnitude taken place in Pakistan ever before? The Six Points Program comes from the heart of the people. It occurred to me in jail this time that the lackeys of imperialism and the extortionists from West Pakistan would not be able to exploit the impoverished people of East Bengal for long. In particular, I realized that the protests of June 7 had burst out spontaneously throughout rural Bengal; this suggested to me that no longer would their exploiters be able to suppress them through threats. For the sake of Pakistan, its rulers should frame a constitution based on the acceptance of the “Six Points.”
The blood that has been spilled from the bosoms of my brothers on the pitch-carpeted roads of Dhaka cannot go waste. The way students and the masses of this country had sacrificed their lives to make Bengali the state language had made it one of Pakistan’s state languages; blood that is shed thus never can go waste! What can one do except express solidarity silently from the depth of our souls for those who sacrificed their lives smilingly or were injured, or arrested, or endured torture? To them and their children we must express
our sympathy silently. Sitting in this prison I raised my hands and prayed to Allah for the peace of their souls. I promised myself that I would not let their deaths go in vain. We would carry on our struggle. We would await whatever fate had in store for us. People surely know how to value their sacrifice. The demands of the people of the land would have to be realized through such sacrifices.
The whole day I pranced in and out of my room like a mad man. Anyone who has seen shackled animals will feel what I felt then! Hundreds of people were being brought to prison. It was frightening even to imagine in what a poor shape they were in. The administration had arrested anyone they had found in the streets. The arrested people had been kept in custody at police stations or elsewhere all day and night, though they were barebodied and had no real clothes on. They were not being given food and could not bathe. They had been locked in after being sentenced summarily. Some were made to wear prison uniforms. Next to where I was, in what is old cell number 20, they had brought 82 boys during the night; none of them could be more than 15 years old. Some of them had head injuries; some had leg injuries; many were not even able to walk. The honorable magistrate probably did not listen to any of them; he kept sending them to jail one after another. I saw them bringing these boys during the night. The door had been shut by then. Through the window I yelled at them saying, “Mr. Jamadar-do see to it that they are given food. Perhaps they had gone without food for two days now.” When human beings act inhumanly they can be worse than the most ferocious of animals. I couldn’t sleep at night; one or two of the Jamaders or Sepoys kept abusing the boys though the others were trying to comfort them. Prisoners tend to treat young boys affectionately, they would rather skip eating and give their food to them. Some had even given their own towels to the boys. I made a mental note of the men who had tortured the boys thus. I will not write down their names here though. Night passed in this way, I would sleep a bit but would wake up every now and then.

9th June 1966 1 Thursday
When I went out in the morning I noticed that those who had been interned in old cell number 20 were looking at me through an opening in the door. Little by little, I went towards them. I asked them how they were feeling. They had sad stories to tell. They had been herded in from the street and confined in a room in the police station where they were made to stay all night long. So many people had been incarcerated in the prison then that they weren’t able to sit down; they had to defecate and urine wherever they were. They had been beaten up when being arrested; I saw scars left on their foreheads and other minor wounds from the beatings. Among them there were a few college students. They had kept 72 people in twelve cells. In other words, they had kept six men in each cell. Except for the clothes and the shirts some of them had on, they had nothing else to wear. It is difficult to describe the extent to which their condition had deteriorated in merely two days and nights. I asked the man who supplied water to give them some and bring a gamcha or towel for their use. The head constable then asked the mate and the guards on duty to bring towels for them. A few of them had been able to bathe. Soon they were told to report to the ‘case table’. They were all taken out, and lined up for a head count there. They will now have a health check up; their names and addresses will then be verified. They would be given breakfast in that place. I asked the jamadar on duty in the case table to give them food. All of them were made to sit down in a row. Nobody was allowed to get up. They would have to eat there. They would not get the opportunity to bathe. Those who had been sentenced were made to wear prison uniforms. From where I was, I could see many of them when I opened the door. I tried to find out more about them. Just then Doctor Sahib showed up. As my door opened, they were able to see me; all two or three hundred of them raised their hands and greeted me boisterously. I raised my hands and congratulated them. The door was shut immediately and I moved away; if there was more commotion they would be abused. One of the constables had

apparently sworn at them and had beaten them up. I summoned him and said to him, “Don’t ever do such a thing.” He promised to me that he would not and said that he too had children and was human as well. I couldn’t say anything more to him. Those who had been arrested were poor people; they wouldn’t be allowed to survive if they were not able to work as day laborers.
Many rickshaw drivers had been hauled in; no doubt their children were starving. Many had been handed two months of imprisonment. This was how noon arrived. The newspapers too came and I read about how the opposition in the so-called National Assembly and the East Pakistan Provincial Assembly had walked out in protest because an adjournment motion was not allowed to be discussed by the Speaker. And they call it a Legislative Assembly! And this was what is supposed to be the extent of the power of the Assembly! What farce! Why didn’t they call it a debating club instead? As if talk shouldn’t be completely free-flowing even there! There is a saying in our country, “How could one who doesn’t have hair on his head wear red ribbon?”
The government has admitted that one more person has died in a hospital. With it, the official death toll has become eleven. There are no reports on the number of people who have been injured. One wonders, “Did only eleven people die or were there many more deaths?”
The Soviet Premier Alexi Kosygin has made a wonderful comment, once that is surely true about the U.S. position in Viet Nam, “There is no way they can win and they can’t find the path that will take them back either!”
At five o’clock, when I was sitting by myself and was lost in my thoughts, the head constable came and said to me; “you have an interview coming up; your wife has come with the children.” What could be the matter? Why had they showed up so suddenly? These days they let them see me only once every fortnight. When I was in jail on previous occasions they would give them permission to see me all the time. Was there bad
news? I immediately headed for the jail gate. About two to three hundred young prisoners all in prison dresses were sitting in a row. Seeing me come, they stood up and raised their hands to greet me. I also greeted them in return. There is no provision to stand still anywhere in the jail code and I therefore went toward the gate after greeting them. My youngest son cried out to me, “Daddy,” “Daddy,” just as he would do before. I took him up in my lap and hugged him. My youngest daughter was standing by the door. I also hugged her. Jamal had fever and was sitting at a distance. I called him to me. My eldest daughter and son and Khoka, my cousin brother, as well as my wife, looked at each other. It was as if they were trying to tell me something but were not able to do so. I said, “What is the matter? How come you were given permission to meet me so easily?” My wife said to me slowly “a telegram has come saying your mother is very sick.” It wasn’t difficult for me to figure out what had really happened; my mother must be really unwell, for otherwise my father wouldn’t have sent a telegram to them. He is a very wise and intelligent person. I became very depressed but I didn’t let the children understand that I had become really upset at the news. I sat down for a while, but nothing anyone said made me feel good anymore. I took a pan from my wife and chewed it. It wasn’t difficult for me to understand that things were in a bad condition in Dhaka city and other places. My wife told me to apply for parole. I said to her, “if I go to see my mother for a few days and her condition doesn’t get any better then, and if I return to jail leaving her in that state, she might even have a heart attack. I’ll go if they release me; otherwise I won’t. Send somebody immediately; tell my brother Naser to go to our home.”
I returned once more to my lonely room. On the way back, the prisoners greeted me again but I was not able to look at them. All I could do was raise my hand by way of greeting them. Seeing my mental state, the cook and my mate, Alimuddin, and faltu-the boy who ran errands for me- came running to me. I said to them, “My mother is very sick.”
I kept thinking of my mother. I remembered that she had called me from Khulna a few days back and had said to me, “Come and see me; I’ll not live much longer. I’m going home.” I had said to her, “Ma, I’ll go home soon and meet you there.” But soon after they began harassing me and then arrested me in Jessore. By the time I went to Khulna, my mother had already left for our village. I had come from Jessore to Dhaka. I was arrested there and then taken to Sylhet. I was given bail there but then they had arrested me at the jail gate and had taken me to Mymensingh next.
I had got bail again and had come to Dhaka. I had to be present in Sylher though when it would be time for my hearing. Eight cases had been filed against me. Half of the month had gone by then. I scheduled a program in Barisal for May 12. My home was quite close by. I sent a message to my father saying that I would reach there on the 13″. My parents no doubt were very happy to have got my message. I will not be able to explain to anyone the extent of the affection my father and mother have for me. They have always called me “Khoka”. It is as if I am still a child as far as they are concerned. If they could, they would still go to sleep holding me in their laps. Even at this age I hug my mother tight. But they arrested me from my house and put me in Dhaka jail all of a sudden on the evening of the 8th of May. I kept thinking of what she had said then again and again now: “I won’t live much longer. Come and see me”. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone anymore. It became dark and I stayed in bed. I didn’t feel like reading. The mate and the cook tried to make me eat. Yesterday we came to know about the many people who had been killed in Tejgaon and Narayanganj. And this day I have come to know about my mother’s condition. On top of that I was being kept in solitary confinement. I tried hard to sleep but just couldn’t do so.
10 June 1966 I Friday I wrote previously that I was being kept by all myself. I wasn’t able to talk to anyone. I had no way of discussing things with
anyone. There was no one to console me. What could be crueler than to keep someone in jail all by himself Other political prisoners can go places in groups but I couldn’t even be left with anyone for that was the government’s directive. The jail authorities could do nothing about that. Nurul Islam Choudhury, Khondoker Mushtaq Ahmed, Zohur Ahmed Choudhury, Mujibur Rahman (Rajshahi), and Tajuddin Ahmed had already been taken out of Dhaka jail and then isolated from each other by being kept in different jails. Others arrested from our party were put in the worst cells. They were also being given a hard time as far as food was concerned. They would have to take food that costs no more than one and a half taka.
I was sitting all by myself in the little space outside my room. The head constable (Jamadar Sahib) came and said, “Don’t make yourself sick by worrying so much.” One or two prisoners passed me by but didn’t have the courage to tell me anything. This is how a lot of time passed away. When it was 9 am I sent word for the Deputy Jailer to meet me. He did so as soon as he was informed about this. I told him that I want to send a telegram to the Chief Secretary worded thus: “My mother is in poor health in our village home; if possible, release me.” He said, “Give me your message but all I can do is try to send it. I wrote the telegram and gave it to him. But I already knew what the outcome would be. They wouldn’t release me for sure! Later they would say the government hadn’t been informed of the situation. And so I had informed them!
Ittefaq has also published a story about my mother’s health. I try my best not to worry but all the same I keep thinking of the same thing. I keep remembering everything my mother would say to me.
When they arrested me soon after Pakistan was created in 1948, and when they arrested me again during the Bengali Language Movement in 1949, only to release me in 1952, my mother had asked me, “Son. Why is it that they put you in jail though you were so vocal about wanting Pakistan and had spent so much of your own money for it, and though the
people of this part of the country had learned about Pakistan because of you?”
Tell me what answer should I have given to my villageborn mother? I had said to her then, “Ma. I’ll explain everything to you later.” What was really there for me to say though? When I got the chance to do so later, I did say a lot of things to my mother, but do you think she was convinced by what I said? 1 could never make my mother understand. From time to time she would tell me, “Take me to those who put you in the jail so that I can confront them.” My brothers and sisters would all laugh at her for saying so. On this day I remember so many of the things my mother would say to me!
The newspapers came; I could see from them that the government had stopped the free flow of news. They had almost made them pamphlet-like. There was no news feature on the ongoing movement.
The prisoners were talking about more than a thousand people dead in police firing; such rumors were rife here. When the truth is suppressed rumors spread from village to village; they only cause the government problems and do them no good.
The Awami League Working Committee is supposed to meet this day. If those who are still free can provide the right leadership, it won’t be long before we will be able to realize our demands
I couldn’t concentrate on my reading today. I hadn’t even realized when they had locked me in since I had returned to my cell just before the sun had set. The mate, the cook and the other help who used to be with me came near me and said, “Don’t worry Sir; if God wills it, your mother will recover soon.” And so I think, how can politics make people so heartless? Even prisoners have compassion and can be caring, but selfish people outside can’t! I thought it would be difficult for me to pass the night, but it went by. I looked outside through the window for a long time and tried to see “darkness’s beauty.” But I’m not Sharat Chandra. I don’t have either his capacity to see or think through things!
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people of this part of the country had learned about Pakistan because of you?”
Tell me, what answer should I have given to my villageborn mother? I had said to her then, “Ma. I’ll explain everything to you later.” What was really there for me to say though? When I got the chance to do so later, I did say a lot of things to my mother, but do you think she was convinced by what I said? 1 could never make my mother understand. From time to time she would tell me, “Take me to those who put you in the jail so that I can confront them.” My brothers and sisters would all laugh at her for saying so. On this day I remember so many of the things my mother would say to me!
The newspapers came; I could see from them that the government had stopped the free flow of news. They had almost made them pamphlet-like. There was no news feature on the ongoing movement.
The prisoners were talking about more than a thousand people dead in police firing; such rumors were rife here. When the truth is suppressed rumors spread from village to village; they only cause the government problems and do them no good.
The Awami League Working Committee is supposed to meet this day. If those who are still free can provide the right leadership, it won’t be long before we will be able to realize our demands
I couldn’t concentrate on my reading today. I hadn’t even realized when they had locked me in since I had returned to my cell just before the sun had set. The mate, the cook and the other help who used to be with me came near me and said, “Don’t worry Sir; if God wills it, your mother will recover soon. And so I think, how can politics make people so heartless? Even prisoners have compassion and can be caring, but selfish people outside can’t! I thought it would be difficult for me to pass the night, but it went by. I looked outside through the window for a long time and tried to see “darkness’s beauty. But I’m not Sharat Chandra. I don’t have either his capacity to see or think through things!

11th June 1966 1 Saturday
I sent word to the Jailer Sahib that I would like to meet him. He responded saying that he would himself come to see me. He too knew that my mother was not well at all. Looking outside, I saw a hen, a rooster, and a chick circling around intently, picking up insects as they did so. My cook had managed to buy these chickens with money he had saved from his cooking. The little fields which were lying vacant in front of my ward were now covered with grass that had sprouted from seeds I had planted. Now the entire field is green. The grass grew fast after it had rained. The whole place looks very beautiful. The chickens keep moving around in the field. I sat outside for a long time. I had planted flowering plants everywhere; new leaves had now begun to sprout. The place was looking really beautiful. Today the sun was not hot because of the clouds. It was very windy. I came back to the cell and sat down. I met Compounder Sahib, whom I had not met for quite a while. The Civil Surgeon is supposed to visit the jail twice a week, but he had not come to examine me for two weeks now. He would probably come to see me today. Accompanied by the jail doctor, he came to see me half an hour later. He told me not to worry myself sick; he also said that by the grace of God, my mother would surely get better. He is a very God-fearing person. Even at this age he performed Hajj. He could not spare much time for me since he had a lot in his hands today. Only unfortunate wretches like me who have been imprisoned without trials have nothing to do!
I went to bed with the book again. This was my only occupation. I am all alone. I have been sentenced and must stay alone. Jailer Sahib came to meet me along with the Deputy Jailer of the Security Branch. I made them sit down and said to them, “No doubt you have a lot to do, for you keep bringing people from the streets to jail and must look after them; nevertheless I have to bother you now.” I said to them, “Why am I being kept all alone; why have you kept my colleagues in the condemned cells? Only one and a half taka has been sanctioned for their food. You could keep the other D.P.R.’s and prisoners in one place.

They are able to arrange for their own cooking. Cell 26 has its old security setup. The inmates have their food together and manage their cooking themselves. The food is prepared before them. You’ve kept DPR prisoners in Ward 1 and 2. They too have made arrangements to cook their food together and have the cooking done before their eyes. Prisoners who have received division also stay together. Food is cooked separately for them too. I stay alone and so food is prepared in my presence. What wrong has my colleagues done? What jail laws have they violated that they can’t stay in the same place and arrange to cook their own food? None of them has been given division status; how would it harm you if you allow them to stay and eat together? I feel depressed. My mother is sick; a lot of people have been shot and many have been killed; a lot of people have been arrested and brought here. If I stay all by myself in this way, my health can only deteriorate”. But they have only one answer to such queries-nothing was in their hands; they have to implement whatever orders they get from above. I suppose that in the case of other DPR no directions are issued from above about who should be placed where for other prisoners; this unfair policy is only enforced in the case of Awami League ones. He said he would talk to the jail DIG Sahib; perhaps he could do something; he himself had no authority to do anything in such a case.
Looking at their faces, I realized that there really was nothing that they could do. Even the jail authorities did not know where prisoners would be kept, although it should be part of their responsibility to know that. If anything went wrong, then they are the ones who would be held responsible.
The Jailer and Deputy Jailer sahibs left. I took a shower and was about to sit down for lunch when I saw that Hilsha fish has been cooked in a coconut sauce. I asked them: what kind of dish was this? I hadn’t eaten anything like it before. How would it taste? The cook said somebody had told him to cook this way and that is why he had cooked it thus. I said, “I have been here all along; wouldn’t it have been a good idea to ask me as well?” Nevertheless, I had a little of the dish and then took the
newspaper to bed. While I read the newspaper I tend to feel drowsy but I really don’t want to sleep then. If I sleep in the daytime I won’t get to sleep at all at night.
Good grief! A lot of people have died in a train accident. Many have been hurt. The full details are not available yet. The accident took place in Brahmanbaria of Comilla District. The rail lines were built in the British period. They repair it wherever something goes wrong. What is needed though is to overhaul the entire system. But who cares? I know how awful a state the East Bengal Railway is in. I have travelled a lot on trains. With the exception of a few carriages all are from the British period. There is no train compartment into which water does not leak in when it rains. But since one can’t get any water inside the compartment, what objection can one have to God-given water dripping in from outside? A few days ago when they had arrested me in Sylhet and was taking me to Mymensingh, I was in a first class compartment along with two police inspectors when all of a sudden it began to rain. With great difficulty, we had tried at that time to protect ourselves, but the entire room became wet. I said to them then, “Let’s go to another compartment.” We all took refuge in a neighboring one. It leaked there too but not as much water was leaking into that compartment. Of course, drinking water is never available in any train. Often, even water for use in toilets is not available. Some minister or the other cries, “Sabotage.” And no doubt it is that; the central government has been carrying out sabotage for 17 long years!
When India was partitioned, and Pakistan was established, railway compensation was distributed according to the division of population. East Bengal received more financial compensation on the basis of its larger population. It is unfortunate that while the West Pakistan Railway was developed to the extent that was necessary, the East Bengal Railway was made the responsibility of the province. Was the compensation that was awarded as it should have been? The better engines and rolling stocks were taken away to West Pakistan from East Bengal. Is there any account available of

how much they had taken away? Till this day, a double line hasn’t been built for the Dhaka-Chittagong route!
Go to West Pakistan and you will see such spectacles! The opposition and independent members have walked out from the East Bengal legislature on many occasions to protest against the move to declare the adjournment motion on railway accidents illegal on the ground that this was not according to procedure. Why do they go for such adjournment motions? They keep saying—if you want to debate you have to leave. You should be content at getting salaries and travel privileges. What an amazing legislature! There is nothing like it anywhere in the world.
This is an example of the “New Democracy” fathered by General Ayub Khan. It is only a ploy to keep himself in power. What do the people have to do with it? Enough to have “basic” democracy, money, and government employees in place to do your bidding! Mr. Ayub and his puppet administrator Mr. Moneim Khan, and in West Pakistan, Mr. Khan of Kalabagh go their merry ways! What is there to worry about?
A flood has devastated Sylhet while tornadoes have killed a lot of people and destroyed houses and damaged property. I don’t know to what extent government assistance will be forthcoming in such instances. I have personally seen examples of the kind of assistance the government provided then in Cox’s Bazar.
In the afternoon when I looked in the direction of the hospital I saw Mr. Shahabuddin Choudhury looking toward me. I greeted him and wished him speedy recovery. But he was at a distance from me and would not be able to hear me. Besides, I wasn’t supposed to talk to him for it was against the law to do so. I could see Badshah Mia of Babu Bazar greeting me. The poor fellow was wasting away after being made to work hard in the jail. His physical strength and his financial resources have proved to be his problems. Many prisoners who were standing behind Mr. Badshah gesticulated to indicate how the police had been torturing them. Some of them had bandages on their foreheads

where the police had beaten them up. They had been brought with their injuries to the hospital. I heard that about 40 to 50 people were still in the hospital. I said to myself: “Be abused thus; you are being battered with the sticks and pelted with the bullets of your own blood brothers. You are destined to be a subject race. It is the fate of such subject races to be jailed and oppressed. What was new in such a fate?
I’m not in a mood to read or write. Time just won’t pass; nighttime is the most trying time in prison. And those like me who are forced to be pass the time all alone in what they call in English “solitary confinement” live in a state that others can’t even begin to imagine.
12th June 1966 1 Sunday When I was taking a walk in the morning I heard that the 82 boys who were arrested on June 7 were being kept in two blocks. Altogether, there are 8 small cells in them, each 6 feet by 12 feet. In the early morning after emptying block number 2, they put one person there. His name, I was told, is Abdul Mannan. I began thinking: who could this Mannan be? I inquired to find out whether he was the General Secretary of the Jute Mill Federation, but nobody seemed to know. When I asked under what section he had been arrested, I was told that he was not arrested under DPR. I found out that the case has been filed in Narayanganj, which is where he had been arrested. He has not been given any division. He came with only the clothes he had on. He was made to take off his shoes at the gate. He has no towel and no extra clothes. With the exception of the shirt that he had on when he was brought here, he has nothing. I immediately sent some items for him so that he could manage somehow for the time being. When he came out of his cell to get his meal, I kept standing so that I could meet him. When I finally met him I saw that it was really Mannan, the labor union leader. I said to him, “Don’t worry; try and get bail.”
Nothing feels good to me. I won’t be able to console myself until I get news about my mother. I began working in the
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garden. I came back to my room once again. I began to read yesterday’s newspaper carefully. The Finance Minister, Mr. Shoeb, has submitted the budget for 1966-67; on the revenue side the income has been estimated at 563 crore 56 lakh taka; expenditure based on the share allotted for the provinces is to be 127 crore and 10 lakh taka. 127 crore and 78 lakh taka would be set aside for the provinces. On the revenue side 63 crore and 68 lakh taka was shown as surplus. In the development sector, for the financial year 442 crore and 73 lakh taka had been projected as earnings while expenditure was estimated at 479 crore 29 lakh taka. There would be a shortfall of 36 crore and 56 lakh taka in the development budget. Through the imposition of new taxes revenue would amount to 37 crore and 15 lakh taka. Taxes have been imposed on kerosene, salt, soap, and other items. The postal surcharge too has been increased. 225 crore taka has been allocated in the defense budget. 136 crore has been allocated for the 1965-66 fiscal year. All of the tax imposed above will have to be borne by the poor. With the financial policy Mr. Shoeb has adopted, the poor will only become poorer in a conspiracy hatched to provide privileges and benefits to only a few rich people and industrialists!
Imposing new taxes all the time increases the pain and suffering of ordinary people. Through Mr. Shoeb’s fiscal policy the interests of monopoly capitalists are being safeguarded. This budget will provide a “tax holiday” for industrialists till 1970. The poor will probably not be able to eat their dinner in the evening in a lighted home; they will not have enough to even eat properly. The defense budget alone will amount to 65% of the total expenditure; how much of this amount will be earmarked for East Pakistan? No more than five to ten percent! I was very happy to see that while my colleagues and I were under arrest and in prison, Awami League leaders and workers had resolved to carry on the people’s movement peacefully. They would not let blood be shed in vain. Syed Nazrul Islam is the Acting President of the Awami League. Under his leadership the Working Committee of the Awami League met for 11 hours.
Mizanur Rahman Choudhury has gone to Rawalpindi to join the National Assembly. The Awami League has called for “Resist Repression” days on the 17th, 18th and 19th of June. The Awami League has also asked for the end of all anti-people actions adopted by the government before the 16″ of August. If this is not done, a people’s movement will be launched at the national level from the 16th of August. I think no one will be able to thwart such a movement. Our demands will have to be fulfilled.
The Awami League has also declared that it will continue its movement for the implementation of the Six Points. I have no problems in staying in jail anymore since I feel the movement will go on.
It occurred to me then that our workers might need money. There is no money in our party fund. I couldn’t arrange for funds when I had to come away. The money that is raised every month is only enough to meet our office expenses. But I do believe that our work will not stop merely because of a shortage of funds. Since the Awami League has the support of our people, it will have their hearts sustaining it. I have seen people coming to our office to donate amounts that range from 1 taka to a 1000 taka. And these were people I had never seen before! I would most likely never see most of them again either. I do believe therefore that our work will go on.
A little before evening set in, Barisal’s Babu Chitto Sutar was brought in. He is being kept in Cell Number 20 of Block 5 which is just opposite my room. Ranesh Maitra of Pabna has also been kept there. He has come to sit for an examination. The two of them will be staying together. He was also an MP and is a very selfless man. He too has not been given any division. He told me that he saw my brother-in-law in the launch and learned from him that my mother is a lot better than before. I felt somewhat relieved.
Chitto Babu told me that other political parties had made a mistake by not responding to the Awami League’s call. I could not prolong our conversation though. Because I was on the road
outside we could talk a little. He was taken to his block later. I came back to my block; I was completely by myself now. There was nobody to talk to except for some ordinary inmates. Soon 1 was told that Jamadar Sahib had come to lock me up. I took the lamp and sat down with my pen and some paper.
13th June 1966 I Monday Nowadays I get up very early in the morning. I try to keep fit. As soon as I sat in the place outside, Yunus came. He is a sweeper. Yunus has a jail term of 20 years. He is in for some murder case, but he says he doesn’t know anything about it. He can’t say more than that. He came and said to me, “If you write on my behalf I’ll be released. Put your signature and that will be enough.” He has been saying the same thing again and again every day. Today he just wouldn’t let me go. Sepoys and jamadars, whosoever he met, would say to him, “Appeal to the sahib and that will do the trick. That will obtain your release.” He keeps requesting the jamadars and the sepoys to unlock the gate. They have resorted to another strategy now. They point at my direction when they meet him. One of the jamadars is a witty man. He said to him, “Nothing can be done in Pakistan unless you spend money, You’ll have to spend some!” Yunus had a few taka in savings. He requested the mate and all the sentries to do some shopping for him. He would spend two rupees; he would offer half a cigarette to the person who bought all these things to him. With the rest he would offer to treat the jamadar sahib and me. Everybody makes merry at his expense. On this day he actually went towards the gate to do some shopping. From the money he had in deposit in the office, he bought cigarettes and bidis for me. Nowadays no one smokes bidi anymore; only cigarettes and tobacco!
I said to him, “Yunus; where are you off to?” He replied, “To do some shopping, Sir.” I said in some irritation, “If you get things for me from the bazaar I won’t write for you.” He stood silently for a while. No, he wouldn’t bring anything from the bazaar, although the sepoys and the prisoners had told him to do
so. How can I make him understand that my pen has become useless? It doesn’t get work done nowadays. I’m also a prisoner like him. I’ve tried a hundred times to make him understand that I’m just an ordinary prisoner like he is. Everybody makes fun of him. I try to make people understand that he could go completely mad at this rate. His condition is such now that even if nobody says anything to him, he’ll come to me and say the same thing over and over again.
The newspapers came. I had finished eating by then. Floods in Sylhet have made 150 thousand people homeless. Ten people are dead. We don’t know the number of cattle swept away in the flood. How will the people in this country survive? I can’t even imagine their plight. On top of all that there is the burden of taxes they have to bear.
Dr. Nurul Huda has presented the East Pakistan budget. One crore and 16 lakh taka have been imposed as new taxes. On the revenue side income has been shown at 118 crore and 27 lakh; on the expenditure side at 98 crore and 28 lakh. The surplus is estimated at 19 crore and 99 lakh taka. 230 crore was allocated for the development fund against a receipt of 204 crore and 69 lakh taka. The total deficit has been shown as 25 crore and 31 lakh taka.
How much more would people have to pay as taxes? Mr. Shoeb says that people are increasingly well-off and therefore more taxes can be imposed on them. Indeed, the people on whose behalf he has been working and whose spokesman he is have all become affluent. But they have been spared the burden of taxes. Industrialists and big businessmen have not only become delighted but are constantly showering thanks upon him. Meanwhile, ordinary people have been protesting loudly.
Pakistan has apparently agreed to provide a loan of 14 crore taka to Indonesia. This government that has been going around with a begging bowl all over the world and can’t even present a budget without American aid, and the government that has been making the lives of the people unbearable by imposing more
taxes day after day, has agreed to provide a loan! We must be truly serving Islam, for doesn’t our religion say that we must abstain from food ourselves if necessary to feed others? How kind-hearted we can be! Love and affection must be our guiding principles! If somebody doesn’t have clothes to wear, we must take off our own clothes and give them that and then take to the road and walk home the way we are. That is exactly what our government is doing in this case!
My mother is recovering well. My younger brother, Nasir, has taken her to Khulna for treatment. I am thus feeling a little better. That is why I have once again resumed walking briskly for an hour in the afternoon. “I’ll have to survive, for much remains to be done!” The heat has decreased a bit and so I am sleeping longer.
14th June 1966 i Tuesday It rained in the early morning. I got up quickly to close the windows since my bed might get wet. On getting up I saw that the mate had already shut the windows. I lay down again. I asked the mate to turn off the electric fan because it had become a bit cooler. I fell asleep again. I was late getting up. When I did so, I saw that the tea was ready. After drinking some tea I went out for a walk. The hen was sick and so the cook had given her some medication. He said it was a little better than before. He said to me, “Why don’t we slit its throat?” I said, no, there was no need to do so; it saunters in the garden so delightfully, all puffed up then. I really like its movements.
From this day my case will be heard in the high court in response to my habeas corpus petition. I don’t know what the consequence will be. They’ve arrested me wrongfully and continue to do so, keeping me in prison using DPR. They’ve arrested the Organizing Secretary of the Ghatail Awami League, Mohammed Ali Mukhtear, and have sent him to Mymensingh jail.
In a feature published in Daily Telegraph, dated June 7, 1966 and titled “East Pakistan’s Case,” Rawle Knox expresses his views
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about the situation. A newspaper can publish anyone’s opinion and I shouldn’t really say anything about that but nothing has been printed in the paper today on the way East Pakistan is being subjugated. Soon after the Six Point was announced, the whole world had come to know about where Bengalis were hurting. Bengalis don’t have any political or economic freedom or even the freedom to express themselves culturally or even personal freedom. For nineteen years repression and pillage have continued unabated in the province. By now they have perfected the mechanism through which they can repress us effectively, But they won’t be able to do so for long. As a nation Bengalis are envious of other’s success. In no other language in the world is there a word for the kind of envy that is occasioned by other’s success as we have in Bengali parashrikatarata). The trait connoted by this word is intricately woven into our character. More than the East India Company and the British Government did, our present West Pakistan rulers have been brazenly exploiting East Bengal. Even during the British period there was no lack of Bengalis dying to work for the British as their lackeys. This is the case even today. But let those who sacrifice themselves for the country keep doing so. They will have no reason to regret their actions. Rawle Knox is stating the truth when he writes, “If Rawalpindi continues to believe that the revolutionary spirit of Bengal is some kind of a joke, the Pakistani capital could be making quite a mistake.”
I also think that the Six Points should be accepted for Pakistan’s sake by its ruling coterie, especially by Mr. Ayub Khan. The consequence if they don’t could be frightening. Bengalis have an obstinate streak in them, for once they can understand something they will even give up their lives for it with a smile. They realize now that they are being subjugated in every possible way, not merely politically but also economically and culturally.
I was sitting outside in the evening when I came across some of the young boys who had been arrested and who were now getting out on bail. They were walking briskly; it was as if they

would only breathe again if they could leave this place. They don’t want to stay inside these stone walls anymore. When they came near me, they stopped and said, “Sir we are leaving but we will resume working for the movement and strive to get you out of prison.” I said, “Go and give my regards to everyone; don’t worry about me.”
I kept looking at them for a while. Their words made me so happy! It made me feel that it was not a prison that I was in but an abode of peace. The parting words of these very young ones made me forget my worries for some time. I found mental strength in them; I felt I would be able to endure jail life for a long time; when boys like them come forward to struggle for the freedom of the country, who would be able to thwart our movement
That I am all by myself is something I can never get over. To think thus may be bad for my health. It seems that the government is bent on causing the most hardship for me and for Awami League workers by keeping us in prison forever.
A prisoner told me a story at night about how he was in a gang that took part in a robbery. He had no previous experience of robbery before this incident. But after he had been made an accused, he took part in attempts at robbery to raise fund for his legal defense. After he had been made an accused though, he committed three robberies to meet his legal expenses. However, he hadn’t taken part in the robbery for which he had been sentenced to jail; apparently, he was not even part of that gang of dacoits. He added, “I won’t get involved in any more break-ins. I would like to spend the rest of my life with my family, but then I am afraid if I can’t spend money I might end up being an accused in some other case. In any case, I won’t get involved in robbery again; I’d much rather live in peace with my children.”
15th June 1966 I Wednesday My children just might come to see me today for it was 15 days ago when they last came here. I have also applied to meet my

wife soon so that I can learn about my mother’s condition from her. Until the permission is granted I won’t get the real news. Despite myself, I keep thinking about it.
My cook is raising a baby pigeon. I walk around holding it in my lap carefully. Till this time it has had to be fed rice given to it in a tiny cloth bag. It has learned to fly a little. It kept quiet for a while and then began to scamper towards the kitchen. I didn’t have to hold on to it anymore. When the baby pigeon sees the cook it thinks that he is everything in the world to it.
I sat outside for sometime today. Many things keep coming to my mind. All sorts of things. Mr. Chitta Sutar of Barisal and Ranesh Maitra of Pabna have been kept in Cell 20, which is on the other side of my cell. Earlier, they used to open the door once in a while, but now they are under strict orders not to do so.
What an awful state of things! Although I have a little space inside my room, the mind likes to view the outside world. What my situation amounts to be sheer torture. Imprisoned people will become so blind or is so ill that they may no longer be fit for work once they return to the world outside. That clearly is the intention of the autocratic regime as far as I am concerned. I looked at them from a distance for a long time. But their door would not be opened. Later, I found out that strict orders had been issued to the jamadars and sepoys, warning them that they would be fired if the men were allowed to open their door, and if they were found talking to me. We were not able to talk at all. At best, if they opened their door I would be able to greet them from a distance. But that was all we could do. My state is that of a woman in a veil “no one can see me and I can’t see others either. Nobody can talk to me and I can’t talk to others too.”
The government was keeping me under strict surveillance. I had said to the DIG Sahib of Prisons, “I’ve been kept in solitary confinement through a violation of the penal code. Under the jail code, there is no provision for keeping anyone in solitary confinement without due process of the law. It is against the law and yet you are knowingly violating it. You keep mum, using the

excuse of Orders from those above us’. Show me those orders. I’ll not complain then. I’ll stay all alone no matter how difficult that is.” The DIG Sahib had replied, “I’ll let you know the outcome after discussing the situation with my higher authorities.” I know very well what the outcome will be but they won’t be able to blame me later. I’m not the kind of man who will be tortured without protesting at all.
Time just won’t pass; they keep delivering the newspapers late. I sat down and kept looking at the gate-12 O’clock, 1 O’clock, 2 O’clock, and still the newspapers hadn’t come. I was then forced to ask the duty Jamadar Sahib how it was that it was 2 O’clock and yet the newspapers hadn’t reached here from the jail office! Would he please find out whether they would be delivering the newspaper or not? It was a different story if they didn’t intend to deliver it at all. We realize fully that we are in the kind of prison kings and emperors used to have once upon a time. Although hawkers would deliver the papers between 8 and 9 O’clock, it would take the jail authorities five to six hours to put their signature on them so that they could be sent inside. It is truly difficult to figure out what was the meaning behind this delay. If they wanted to, they could have had the newspapers sent to us by 10 O’clock. Prisoners have no rights and are not supposed to wish for anything! When I finally read the newspapers, I realized that our case hadn’t been heard in the High Court on the 14″.
They have sent me a telegram from England. “Expatriate Bengalis in Great Britain will observe Martyr’s Day on the 17 and 18″ of June.” S.M. Husain, the General Secretary of the Pakistani organization, the Progressive Front, appeals to all Pakistani nationals and Pakistan organizations to observe martyr’s day appropriately so as to register their protest against the repressive, autocratic and inhuman actions of the government. He said, “We must unite and raise our voice to end the present government’s repressive, oppressive, corrupt, unjust and undemocratic activities.”

This story was published in the Daily Azad on June 7 (31st Josthya): “On behalf of the Pakistanis of Britain, Mr. Husain and President of the Pakistan Association, Mr. Afroz Bakht sends a telegram felicitating the President of East Pakistan Awami League, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, and expressing their support. It said, “We are ready to provide all sorts of moral, financial and physical support to the movement for provincial autonomy and democracy. Rest assured that we will not allow the blood that has been shed by our brothers to go in vain. We are working for them and for the same ends-this is the message we have for our people.” The telegram went on to convey their greetings to Mr. Nurul Amin for directing the movement for the establishment of democracy, both in the National Assembly and outside it.”
“The telegram condemns strongly the blood that has been shed in East Pakistan and states that it marked one of the most heinous chapters of Pakistan’s history. In the telegram an appeal has been made for release of all political prisoners and for the establishment of democracy in the country.”
This telegram didn’t reach me because the IB department would not hand it to me. If any paper or letters or notebooks is to reach me, they have to come through them. If they don’t want to, they won’t give it to me. And I can say nothing. Even when I am seeing my wife or my children, an employee of the intelligence branch keeps sitting to find out if I am saying anything political to them.
When expatriate Pakistanis start to protest against torture and support the legitimate demands of the people, not much time can be left for our rulers. Since I couldn’t reply to the telegram of our friends, I prayed silently for their well-being. And I pledged to myself then that the blood of our unfortunate brothers would not go in vain.
At four-thirty a man came and said to me, “Let’s go, you have an interview; your wife and children are awaiting you in the jail office.” I left right away. From afar I saw that Russell, Rehana, and Hasina were looking intently at the path I had
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taken. Eighteen-month old Russell won’t break into a smile in the jail office till he sees me. I saw from a distance that, as he always would, he had started shouting “Daddy, Daddy” on seeing me. A truck full of supplies was coming through the jail gate then. I caressed him through the window. Once I went in, Russell hugged me, and holding on to my neck started to laugh. Everyone said that till I came into view, he had been looking at the window, saying “This is my father’s house.” This is what he believes is his father’s home! I always have to resort to a trick with him when it is time for me to leave. My youngest daughter has only one plea: could she stay with me? She would also like to find out where and how I live. She says she is ready to stay back. Renu tells me that my younger brother has brought my mother to Khulna. She is improving. It won’t be possible to bring her to Dhaka though till she has recovered fully. Hasina’s college is closed and so she would like to go to Khulna. I said. “Let her go since she might be of some help as far as my mother is concerned.” Jamal wasn’t feeling well. He has a swelling in his throat; it’s a very bad kind of infection. He should have a doctor examine him to ensure that it doesn’t get worse. He can’t go to school because of it. There was so much to talk about!
Rashed Musharraf, Assistant Secretary of the Dhaka City Awami League, stays very close to where we live. His date of marriage had been fixed for June 12. Cards had been printed for the occasion. But he has been arrested and brought to the prison. Renu said sadly, “I don’t know why they had to arrest him; he was busy with the wedding arrangements.” There seems to be no rhyme or reason in the manner in which they arrest people. They even haul in little boys from streets; these boys cry all night and call for their mothers. There is, for example, the case of the woman who works as a help in different houses and manages to make ends meet for her family that way-a very poor woman. She had taken her six year old son to a gentlemen’s household where she was supposed to be working. The police stopped the car and called out to him, “Come here, boy.” When the boy went towards them, they put him in their car. The woman started to

cry loudly. But who was listening to her ches! Te Duy was brought straight to jail. Many other incidents of this kind have been taking place due to Mr. Moneim Khan’s caprices.
We were together for almost an hour. We talked about all sorts of family matters. I said I had no problems except loneliness. I asked them to tell Manik Bhai to talk to the Chief Secretary and ask him: why were they torturing me thus? My wife said she would meet Manik Bhai. The time allotted for our meeting was up and we couldn’t be together anymore. We therefore said goodbye. I handed Russell over to Kamal after having talked to him about the car.
Who will ever understand the anguish that political prisoners like us experience? My children need not worry about food and accommodation. There are so many others whose wives have to beg, work for other people in their homes, or even compromise their virtue to run their families. I have had the occasion to read letters written by many wives and children of political prisoners. It is frightening to contemplate their plight.
I was in a position of power for some time but I never put into prison any of those leaders who have confined us in prison year after year out of self-interest. I even came to the jail gate to release political prisoners when I was in power.
It is the “B” team and “C” team of such political leaders who have now consolidated their hold on power. They are the one who are torturing us at this time. If I had thrown them in jail for a while and had confined them for the whole day in a cell and given them the kind of food they deserved, they would not have dared to even think of taking part in politics anymore. They would be allowed to leave the jail almost as soon as they were brought there after they had signed a bond. There are many political prisoners languishing in jail at this time who have almost become blind, or can’t walk, or are unable to digest their food properly any longer. They have been in prison for 13/14 years, that is to say, since Pakistan was created. They know that they will probably end up dying in jail and yet they haven’t
signed a bond. These political leaders who have sacrificed so much must be given due respect. It is difficult to express in words how heartless are those people who torture such leaders. I certainly don’t have the words to write about them and so I will end the subject here.
I came back to my little spot in the jail yet again, waiting for the Jamadar Sahib to show up. I would have to be locked up. I entered my cave as always to spend the night and heaved a sigh of relief once again.
I get depressed on the days I meet my children soon after they have left. That is the fate of hardened “convicts” like us. Eventually, I guess, I will feel better again.
16th June 1966 1 Thursday When I got up from sleep, I was told that some high-up officer of Ittefaq had been arrested and brought to jail. Who could it be except Manik Bhai? No one could tell me for sure. Like a madman, I began to ask everyone to find out. An hour passed thus. I sat alone. I needed to know the news. I realized that it was Manik Bhai who had been arrested but I wasn’t able to get confirmation. A little while later someone said Mr. Tofazzal Husain had been hauled in at dawn. He was being kept in Cell 10. The news upset me very much. They didn’t even spare Manik Bhai. How low can these people stoop? He has a preeminent position amongst Pakistani journalists. Very few people in Bengal can match the power of his pen. In particular, there is no one who can compete with his political analyses. Anyone who reads his column, Rajnaitik Mancha (“The Political Arena”), will find it indispensable in understanding the political situation of many countries. It’s not difficult for even ordinary people to understand his column. In sum, he can be termed the greatest writer of our time as far as politics is concerned.
Manik Bhai was never involved in active politics though. He has his own perspective on things. He won’t spare anyone and is bent on expressing the truth. Even Mr. Ayub Khan gives him
due respect. He doesn’t say one thing and mean another. He can flare up easily but will calm down five minutes later. Nobody can even imagine how foul-tongued he can be and he is capable of saying whatever comes to his mind. He isn’t bothered about giving offense or sounding outrageous. I have often disagreed with him and he has abused me verbally and berated me at times, but if anybody else says something against me, that person will find himself in trouble, for he will jump on him then. He treats me with great affection. I also respect him as I would an elder brother. When I can’t make up my mind about anything go running to him; he shows me the path I should take then. Since Mr. Suhrawardy passed away, it is his advice that I keep seeking. No desire for gain or aspersion cast on him can make him deviate from his belief. He had been jailed in the martial law period too. He was arrested once soon after Suhrawardy Sahib had been jailed. He has been arrested once again this day. Many people are jealous of him and have been nursing their grudges against him.
Many people think that in whatever I do I consult him. I do go to him when I feel I need his advice. But he has never tried to give me unsolicited advice. We two agree on many things since for 25 years we have accepted the same man as our leader. A lot of people have betrayed Suhrawardy Sahib but not for even a day did the two of us desert him. What Ittefaq has done for Pakistan and especially for East Bengal is something no other newspaper can claim to have done. Any kind of oppositional politics would have disappeared from this country if we didn’t have Manik Bhai and Ittefaq with us. To not acknowledge this would be to distort the truth. After martial law was imposed in 1958, he has been taking countless risks to print the innermost thoughts of the people of this country.
I doubt whether the Six Points movement would have so quickly become a people’s movement without the boost it got from Manik Bhai’s writings. The government seems to think that whatever I do has been instigated by Manik Bhai and so is his fault. Opening the pages of the Ittefaq will reveal the way it

supported the government when India attacked Pakistan and how it inspired the people to do their utmost to protect the motherland and to sacrifice themselves for it. And yet this day they’ve arrested him under DPR. It’s not difficult for anyone to figure out now why the government has not withdrawn the emergency. The law that was framed for the protection of the defense of the country is being applied now against political activists. They have even attempted to curb the freedom of the press. They have not hesitated to arrest an editor of the stature of Manik Bhai under the Defense of Pakistan Rules. Mr. Tofazzal Hussain, a.k.a. Manik Bhai, is not only the owner and editor of Ittefag; he is President of the Pakistan branch of the International Press Institute and Secretary of the Press Code of Honor of the country.
When I was in jail in 1959 I had also been kept in solitary confinement. After his arrest Manik Bhai was kept in old cell 20. I used to get to see him briefly in the morning and in the afternoon then. He probably stayed there for a month or a month and a half. He had to endure extreme hardship at that time. When I was arrested in 1962 I met him at the jail gate. We were together all the time I was in jail then. Although everyone else was released, Manik Bhai and I remained in jail. After Manik Bhai became ill, he was taken to a hospital outside, but I continued to stay all alone. However, I was released after a few more days at that time.
I was interned in the cell area today. This is the place reserved for very dangerous men-escapees, hardened convicts, prisoners who have been punished for violating prison rules and demented people. There are 93 cells in all here besides my room. Mine is not really a cell; it is a bit bigger than that. But it has high walls on its southern and eastern sides. It has one advantage-some open space in front of it. There are some plants and trees there so that I can plant flowers and fruitbearing trees. I have no objection to staying with these people because I am also supposed to be the dangerous” type. I am not the kind who takes fright easily.
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Manik Bhai and other Awami League workers have been kept at a distance from where I am. There is no way we can meet each other. I can’t even imagine how Manik Bhai and our colleagues survive in Cell 10. The cell has a low ceiling and does not have windows; it has only one door, but that too is blocked by a high wall. Apparently, orders are issued by higher ups about who is to be placed where. The jail authorities have no say here. I objected though. I have no problems if they don’t let them be close to me, but they should be kept where they can live like human beings. I am tired of repeatedly telling the jail authorities this. But from what I hear, a certain person issues instruction as to who is to be placed where.
I feel sorry because I won’t be able to read Manik Bhai’s writings now. I can’t even describe how my days go by! The newspapers have nothing in them about Manik Bhai’s arrest. They must have arrested him very early in the morning.
There will be floods all over East Bengal this year again. It seems Sylhet has already been devastated. There will also be floods in Mymensingh, Faridpur, Bogra, Rangpur, and Pabna. Dhaka will not be spared either. I keep thinking about what fate has in store for the people of East Bengal. On top of all that, the government is going to impose on them the burden of more taxes!
17th June 1966 I Friday It’s raining hard. There is no way one can go out. I walked back and forth in the verandah. A few prisoners have taken shelter there. Someone said to me that Mr. Rafiq, a leading member of our party, has been brought here. He is also being kept in Cell 10. They keep arresting people nonstop. It seems that Mr. Monaem Khan went berserk after the 7″. He has no doubt forgotten that when someone becomes too agitated and impatient, he ends up defeating himself. Victory is attained in the end by he who carries on struggling calmly. Rafiq has been my colleague for a long time; we have been involved in politics

since we were in Kolkata. But from time to time he had kept changing sides. That’s why many of our colleagues won’t trust him. But when he returned to the Awami League fold this time, I trusted him fully since the Awami League no longer had any chance of returning to power. Nobody had been able to arrest him before this time. Rafiq was able to evade arrest before in 1949, 1952 and 1954. That’s why I now thought of the popular saying, “Can the bird keep pecking at the grain again and again without getting caught sooner or later?” I have proof that he hadn’t tried to evade arrest this time. He kept going to meetings and conferences and delivering fiery speeches even after our arrests. It seems that they won’t let any Awami League men stay outside the jail anymore. They must be trying to capture a lot of them even now. A few of them must have gone underground and are probably trying to carry on the movement from there.
They have kept Rafiq near Manik Bhai. That is good; he has got some company now! Those who are staying in Cell 10 treat Manik Bhai respectfully. Surely, they will keep their distance from him! Mashiur Rahman, the leader of NAP, has said something in the Legislative Assembly that is bound to surprise anyone who hears it. He has said what was said before by government party members, but only more loudly. Singing their tune, he said that, “The U.S. Intelligence Agency (C.L.A.) has been spending money to foment trouble in East Pakistan.” He informs us further that “The strike that was called last week had the financial support of the U.S. intelligence.” And these are the people who claim to be progressive! East Pakistan’s demands for self-rule, release of all political prisoners, and the demands of workers and peasants are nothing new. When he was a member of the Muslim League from 1947 to 1957, he would incite thugs to disrupt all the people’s movement that were launched in Rangpur in that period. He himself resorted to strong arm tactics to disrupt the Bengali language movement, attacking workers and students to this end. He had to forfeit his deposit money in the 1954 election, where he stood on a Muslim League ticket, but in 1956 he raised the Muslim League flag for a separate

electorate. All of his life he has been an agent for others in politics. Almost overnight he changed colors and became a
progressive’ by joining NAP. It is only possible for someone like him to say such mean things against those who endured torture and spent time in prison year after year all their lives as defendants, or have become political prisoners because of their support of the movement for self-rule and democracy. The public will decide whether it is fit for someone like him who has linked himself to the government secretly to become a member of the National Legislature. He has actually been making the rounds in Rawalpindi and Karachi to do “permit” business, and to talk in this vein against a political organization actively involved in the struggle and to work against the people’s movement.
So many people have had to sacrifice their lives till this day by facing bullets; hundreds of people are spending time as political prisoners in prison; hundreds of arrest warrants have been issued against people; hundreds of cases have been lodged against student political activists. It’s only possible for the leaders of political parties that do not have any sympathy for people thus victimized to say such things. I know that if I keep saying these things, they will get even more opportunities to do the kind of *permit” business they have been doing from their Rawalpindi bases. I also know how many thousands of tons of cement they have been bringing through their permits from Karachi and 1 also know who they are selling them to. If my party colleagues and I weren’t in prison, I know what answers he and his leaders would have to give. They don’t have the people’s support and have engaged themselves in high-level politicking. They keep raising loud slogans against “imperialism” but they won’t be able to destroy imperialism by supporting the lackeys of imperialism. Believe in the People’s movement and depend on the people instead! Don’t be upset by the Six Points; it’s what the people want. “Make your leader, Maulana Bhashani, go to the people. You are in Ayub Khan Sahib’s camp already and are getting all sorts of benefits from him; but what state are you yourself all in?”

I really don’t have to say so many things about this leader since Bengalis don’t pay much heed to men like him anymore, No movement can be instigated from outside. The people of Bangladesh are spirited in nature. Permit money can’t sustain a people’s movement. You should know that the C.L.A. agents rule Pakistan. New agents are not needed and never will be in demand. And if they are needed, many more agents like you will be found. The people of Bangladesh know very well what kind of people you really are. They know your nature. Your leaders are all active in agency politics!
My copy of Ittefag was not delivered. They gave me Dainik Pakistan instead. When I asked them why I was told that the newspaper had been banned; apparently, the government had shut it down. And I also learned at night that they had sent a notice to Manik Bhai. It seems to me that the government must have shut down the newspaper. Moneim Khan is capable of doing anything. “An iron rod in the hand of a monkey” is the situation here. One should be given as much power as one can handle. Unfortunately, there is no doubting that he will misuse the power he has got. It is said that Ayub Khan empowered Moneim Khan to keep everything in line in East Bengal.
I didn’t get the correct news today. It will be difficult to get any news of Manik Bhai from where he is being kept. I’ve been so hurt by developments that it will take a long time for me to even imagine the extent of the situation we are all in. I have been very much involved with Ittefaq from the very beginning.
All day long I kept thinking of the same thing. I haven’t been able to spend a single day in peace this time in jail. The whole day went with me pacing in and out of my room. The night too passed with me preoccupied by the same thought. I hope that I will be able to get the correct picture when the newspaper is delivered the next day. I am left with this one hope. I said to them that I didn’t want Danik Pakistan; instead, Sangbad should be sent to me. Previously, it was Ittefaq, Azad, Observer, Morning News, and Dawn that were delivered to me.
Now Sangbad will also be sent. I can’t say for sure what will happen to Ittefaq now.
18th June 1966 1 Saturday The sun is up. I took a walk in the sunlight. The weather is pleasing. Nevertheless, I’ve the same reason to be worried: what is going to happen to Ittefaq? Time just won’t pass easily! Everyone, including the sepoys, head constable or Jamadars, and prisoners are saying that Ittefaq has been shut down.
I started reading Emil Zola’s Therese Raquin as soon as I came back to my room. He has depicted three characters beautifully in his work. I spent two or three hours reading this book.
The Civil Surgeon came to examine me. He inquired about the state of my health. I said, “I am fine; I have to be!” He is a busy man and left without wasting his time.
I went out and stood on the verandah. I’ve been looking out for two yellow birds for a long time now. When I was here in 1958–1959 they would often show up at around 10/11 and would dart from one branch to another of the mango tree. From time to time they would feed on insects. I’ve been in this place for 40 days and they haven’t showed up here so far. I wondered whether they were still alive or whether they had gone far away and would never come back. I felt really sad thinking about them. When I had spent 16 months in this room all by myself previously, every morning I would finish my reading and then go out to look for these two birds. I felt they left because they had become upset at me for not being there for them.
After managing to finish my lunch somehow, I waited for the newspaper to arrive. It took a long time for the newspaper to be delivered today as well. I said to the duty jamadar, “Ever since you’ve been on duty here, the newspapers are taking their time to reach me”. Not getting the newspapers in time is very upsetting for me; on occasions it has made me even talk to them roughly. About three o’clock the prisoner on duty delivered the
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newspapers. Apparently, the New Nation Press has been confiscated under the provision of the Defense of Pakistan Rule It is from this printing press that Ittefag, the English weekly Dhaka Times, and the Bengali cine weekly Purbani are being published. Police have enforced a lockout here. Ittefaq has been closed. The previous day the owner of Ittefaq and of the New Nation Press was arrested and brought to the Dhaka Central Jail under the Defense of Pakistan Rule. He has been interned in Cell 10. In East Bengal more copies of Ittefaq is printed than any other paper. Its readership is huge. Ittefaq is well known in all the villages of Bangladesh. No other newspaper has had to bear the impact of the Defense of Pakistan Rule like it has had to. They have attempted to foil the Six Points movement by stopping publication of Ittefaq and by arresting its owner and editor, but they won’t be able to achieve their end by doing so. Through this very action the movement will gain momentum. I believe that the outcome will be catastrophic for them in the end. It’s hard for me to figure out how Mr. Ayub Khan could permit Mr. Moneim Khan to go ahead with this plan and implement it.
I gather from inquiries that Manik Bhai is prepared for any eventuality; he hasn’t lost his cool at all. I’ve become somewhat frustrated though, since no printer is being allowed to publish Awami League posters and pamphlets. Any printing house that attempts to do so has had its owner arrested under the Defense of Pakistan Rule. This, despite the fact that the printing of pamphlets is not against the Rule. The owner of the Bengal Printing Press has been arrested for merely printing black badges. It appears that they won’t allow any democratic movement to take place that will lead to the fulfillment of our demands. They are bent on running a one party state. This can’t succeed for long in East Bengal though. They are forcing our movement to take a different route, one that we never wanted to take. Ittefaq may be shut down but what it wants to achieve is nothing but what the people have been demanding and what is in the mind of our people.

It doesn’t take long for me to read the newspapers nowadays. Just looking at the headlines of Morning News is enough for me to understand what it wants to say. Azad provides bits and pieces of Awami League news. Sangbad publishes only whatever reflects its own point of view. Observer seems to have been intimidated a bit. It amazes me to think that our newspaper editors haven’t issued any statement protesting what is happening to them. They don’t seem to even want the release of the editor of Ittefaq who is one of their colleagues. If they try to destroy Ittefaq by using force on it, nobody else will be spared either. Just wait and see what happens next. I feel that my colleagues outside should register their protest against such a repressive measure, and if necessary should even court arrest and end up in jail in doing so.
The United States Government has decided to provide full financial assistance to India and Pakistan once again. During the India-Pakistan war the United States’ Government had stopped providing assistance to both countries. The country’s State Department has noted that India and Pakistan are at peace now; however, none of them will be provided with military assistance for the time being. The United States President Mr. Lyndon B Johnson was pleased to have had discussions with Pakistan’s President Mr. Ayub Khan and India’s Mrs. Indira Gandhi in Washington. No independent country should seek assistance from the government of another country by abasing itself thus. Not only have they insulted the highest office of the state by doing so, but also the people of the country and the country itself. Beggars are never respected. But then with the kind of fiscal policy that Mr. Shoeb has been administering, what other alternative did Mr. Ayub have? It’s only after socialism is going to be established that we will not have to seek aid in this humiliating manner. It would also benefit the people as well. Now some rich people are getting richer while the whole nation appears to have no option except to resort to begging. Has Pakistan been sold to capitalists forever? Where is Maulana Bhashani now? What does he have to say about this? He is
supposed to have the ability to strengthen Mr. Ayub’s hands by taking him out of the clutches of the imperialists and capitalists and leading him to the socialist block! That is no doubt why he has been supporting all these undemocratic policies of Mr. Ayub’s! This is also no doubt why he has been branding the Awami League and other socialist parties as lackeys of imperialists. It is clear now that the Maulana Sahib and a few of the people in his party are the ones who are acting as agents of imperialism.
A friend of mine was a MPA in 1957. The Maulana Shahib had then set up NAP with the blessings of Iskandar Mirza, using as his pretext his intention to assist Mr. Mirza in framing a progressive foreign policy. Accordingly, he organized the NAP Parliamentary Party and withdrew support from the Awami League. As a consequence, the Awami League government collapsed. He had declared at a NAP party meeting then that the Awami League must not be supported. NAP should support KSP, Nizam-i-Islam and the Muslim League-led coalition instead. Some members of the party had protested then. They had wondered: how could such parties take part in antiimperialist movements? They were there only to pander to Iskandar Mirza who was bent on destroying the Awami League coalition government. The Awami League had released all political prisoners and believes in freedom of the individual. It had fought for the establishment of a joint electorate. How then could NAP support parties such as these that lacked principles and ignore the Awami League? Maulana Bhashani had responded by saying that if Egypt’s Nasser could establish socialism what was wrong with giving Iskander Mirza the opportunity to do so? Afterwards we came to know that Maulana Sahib had formed a secret alliance with Iskander Mirza in an “Eliminate Suhrawardy” campaign. I know all about his principles. I also know everything about the letters that he wrote to Mr. Ayub from prison.
Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s days are numbered. Just wait a bit and you’ll see the real face of your anti-imperialist leader, Mr. Ayub
Khan! Maulana Bhasani has finally got the opportunity to travel abroad at the government’s expense in his dotage. Nobody has objection to his world travels but it would have been best not to have resorted to chicanery and tricks with the people. When Awami League workers and people had bared their bosoms to bullets in a bid to establish people’s rights for self-rule and democracy, and when the prisons had become filled with them, a few of the people in his party have even been seeing the hands of the imperialists in the sacrifices they have been making. They didn’t protest against such oppressive measures. I have no doubt that people by now know these people for who they really are!
I learned that the people of the country had observed the general strike called by the Awami League and also that the government had been assiduously applying its steam roller of torture. But let’s wait and see what the outcome will be.
The afternoon was quite pleasant; it didn’t rain at all. The injured workers have been standing next to the hospital door. Naryanganj’s Khawaja Mahiuddin and other workers as well as Shahabuddin Choudhury are also in the hospital now. He came down to the door. I went towards him a bit and said, “Don’t worry. No sacrifice goes unrewarded. Just see how they have kept me all by myself.” The sepoy looked pale as I said this because there are strict orders against prisoners talking to each other and he could lose his job if anyone knew that there was any violation of these orders. Since I don’t want to harm him in any way I returned to my place. From a distance, I sent my love and care to my colleagues. I have no idea whether they heard me or not because there was quite a distance separating us.
The sun has taken its leave; it does so a bit earlier in prison since a fourteen foot wall blocks us here!
My friends, “security” prisoners, interned in Cell 26, sent me a bunch of rajanigandha as a present. I put them in the pot of my study table; the whole room filled with its beautiful fragrance. It felt lovely. I felt for these friends who have already spent 25 to 30 years of their lives in jail for their principles, our country and

their beliefs-and they are still here. Their gift is an invaluable one. I said to myself, “Let me also be able to sacrifice myself as you’ve been doing. It doesn’t matter what your beliefs are. I don’t have the slightest doubt that you want our country’s good. It’s also true that you want our people to be free. I respect your stance. Your gift is invaluable to me.”
The night passed. I’ve spent many nights thus. I’ve spent almost six years of my life in prison. In all I’ve spent not less than two thousand nights there. Who knows how many more nights would pass thus? It seems all the nights ahead of me are in the hands of the government and its IB department!
19th June 1966 1 Sunday The cell room is the only space I have to myself. Whatever little strolls I would take have had to be discontinued. It’s raining nonstop. I tried to walk in the verandah but it too has become wet. There is no way I can go to the latrine. My whole body will get soaked then. I’ve no umbrella either. The tea was ready; 1 drank it and started moving back and forth inside the room. When the rain stopped at around 9 o’clock I went out. I saw Barisal’s Babu Chittaranjan Sutar standing outside his cell door. I realized that he was in the same state as I was. But while I’ve a little verandah in front of my room his cell has none. When the rain stopped he went out in sheer relief. They have orders to keep him in isolation too. He used to be in Barisal. He would have his wife and children visit him at least once a month then, That won’t be possible anymore. Inflict as much hardship as you can! We won’t protest. We’ll have to endure all in silence for the sake of our future generations. We’ve already spent most of the heady days of our youth in prison; I have spent half my life thus!
And so why worry? Such unjust behavior will be judged one day for sure. Perhaps I’ll be able to witness such a day. Or perhaps I won’t. But I believe such a day will come for sure.
It started to rain again. I darted to the kitchen. I said there, “What’s cooking?” The cook replied, “I’m frying potol and will
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cook papaya next. The fish hasn’t come yet!” I had to wait for a while. I thought: let me observe how they go about their cooking. Water was leaking into the room. Half of it had become wet. I asked the Jamadar Sahib to let it be known that this was the case. This couldn’t go on!”
The Compounder Sahib came to give me a shot. I said, *Please take a sit. How are you?” He said, “What can I say?” I am poorly paid but manage to survive somehow!” He gave me the injection and left.
I sat down with a book. Don’t think that I am into studying seriously just because I sit down with a book. True, from time to time I look at the book. It could even seem at times that I was concentrating on it fully. But in those moments my mind had probably wandered off to some strange and foreign land. Or perhaps I was thinking of my near ones, or someone with whom I had a lot in common mentally, or someone I liked and who liked me but lived at a distance from me. I kept thinking about him. My eyes would shut as I would think about the country, the political situation and the stories of the torture my colleagues are having to endure. At one point I would keep the book aside and smoke my pipe again.
11:30 a.m. was meal time for prisoners. By this time they’ve had their baths and are ready to eat. What they have is a bucket full of dal or lentil soup, a container filled with rice and another one full of vegetables. Prisoners would line up in groups to have the food served to them. They would take the rice and sit wherever they could to have their meals. They move around like automatons. I find it impossible to have lunch before one o’clock. That’s why I go for my bath about 12:30 or 1:00 p.m. I wondered for a while whether I should take a bath today or not. My mate said if I don’t take a bath I’ll become sick. My back is aching from sitting down and reading for a long time. I massaged myself for a long time with oil and then took a bath. The newspaper came soon after I had my meal.
What could be the matter? Bhutto is gone. He has been thrown out. He asked for leave and got it; it was all a ploy to

make him leave with dignity. How will Ayub handle American pressure? Who else but America can help Ayub Khan put into place the kind of economy that Mr. Shoeb has in mind? When America offers financial help to a country, it won’t do so without making that country tow its line. Even the selfless, hard working, highly educated Prime Minister of India, Pundit Jawaharlal Nehru, was forced to dismiss a foreign minister of the caliber of Krishna Menon at America’s insistence. And how can our Mr. Ayub Khan afford to offend those who backed his bid for power and those whose support is making him stay in power; how can he afford to displease his patrons? Surely Mr. Bhutto will think now of what I had said when I had met him all of a sudden, “You don’t have much time left; your days are numbered.”
A dictator has no religion. The only person he knows is himself; he won’t spare anyone to achieve his ends. That the Americans won’t let go of Mr. Ayub is something that I had no trouble in figuring out. Americans want leaders who don’t have links with the people. Mr. Ayub has issued a statement saying that Pakistan’s foreign policy will be unchanged and remain what it had been. We know that he will never be able to change its course even if he wanted to.
At a meeting of the working committee of the East Pakistan Journalist Union it was decided that a token strike would be observed next Monday to protest the confiscation of the New Nation printing press, the forced closure of The Daily Ittefaq, The Weekly Dhaka Times, and The Daily Purbani, both printed from the same press, the imposition of different kinds of restrictions on newspapers and the arrest of Mr. Tofazzal Husain, Ranen Dasgupta, Satyan Sen, and other journalists under the Defense of Pakistan Act.
Opposition and independent members of the People’s Assembly staged a walkout when the Speaker didn’t allow the adjournment motion proposed by the leader of the independent group, Mr. Asaduzaman, against the confiscation of the New Nation Press, and the adjournment motion tabled by the leader
of the opposition party, Mr. Abdul Malek Ukil, on the rights of the members of the Constituent Assembly.
Opposition and independent group members are wearing black badges. Anti-repression days will be observed on the 17′”, 18″, and 19th. Section 144 has been imposed in most districts of East Bengal. Anti-repression day protests won’t be permitted. Arresting leaders and party workers, firing upon peaceful processions, shutting down the press, and issuing arrest orders can only thwart the movement for a few days; however, it can’t do so for much longer than that. The rain eased somewhat in the afternoon, but it continued to drizzle. My back was aching a lot and so I couldn’t take a walk. The night went by; it rained hard then. I slept well regardless, but had to wake up twice during this time.
20th June 1966 I Monday There was pandemonium outside. I inquired to find out what was happening. A chunk of the soil of my flower garden had apparently caved in. I can look down for quite a distance through the hole that was made thus because of this. What could be the matter; what was happening down there? Someone suggested that there could be something inside. Nothing like this had apparently happened before. The earth had caved in and slid down. I could see the Jamadar rushing. The Chief Head Warden had been informed. What was to be done? I suggested to my mate and the guard that it could be that there was a well here from bygone days. The place was circular and enclosed by a layer made of bricks. Many said that must be the reason. I was later told that Jailer Sahib had been informed and he would soon turn up for inspection. I started to laugh. I said, “I guess there must be something inside. This part of the jail was part of Lal Bagh Fort during Shaistha Khan’s reign. This was where the Nawab’s horse stable and elephant barn used to be. The room I was staying in appeared to be fit to be the horse stable. A look at it would convince one that it must have been the place where horses were kept. The English had converted it into a prison. I grinned and
said, “Money, gold and silver could be found in this pit.” Many listened to what I had to say with a solemn face. Some were convinced by my explanation. The Jailer Sahib sent news to the prison DIG. But the pit could not be filled up again until it had been inspected carefully.
I managed to talk a little with Chitto Babu from a distance. Although he lives close by he is not permitted to come outside. He has been brought here from Barisal. He has no idea why he has been brought here. He too is supposed to be kept in isolation. However, someone is staying with him. It rained very hard once again today. Whenever it rains the mind becomes restive. I sent for some books from the library but won’t get them today. However, I’ve some of my own books here and will be able to manage for a few days because of them.
A flood has devastated the people of East Bengal. How will people survive if this keeps happening year after year? The country is in a dismal state as it is. On top of it all are the taxes and duties that have been imposed. And the crops have been destroyed by the floods as well! The unfortunate people of this land point a finger at God and lapse into silence. They feel that the crops have been destroyed since Allah willed it that way; they can’t feed themselves but say that this is their fate; when their children die due to lack of medical attention they say their time is up and so how could they think of surviving God continues to be blamed even though He has given our people so much! Floods can be controlled; many parts of the world have done so. In the past, year after year, hundreds of thousands of acres of land would be destroyed by floods in China. The Chinese, however, have been able to stop such flooding. If the recommendations of the Krug Mission had been accepted and a hundred crore taka spent, flooding could have been stopped. Even if there were floods afterwards, they would not be able to destroy crops. How can I make these people understand that? Our people lack medicine; there is a shortage of doctors; people keep dying prematurely and yet they keep saying that their time has come! Did God create them to make them die premature

deaths? Their oppressors have plundered their resources and made them street beggars and are killing them by depriving them of food. Not being able to eat is emaciating them; they die eventually because of starvation and malnutrition or because they have been taking what is inedible; they fall sick thus and ultimately die. But they keep saying God had summoned them and so who was it that could hold them back?
Nobody dies of starvation in Great Britain. Russia has no unemployment; nobody starves there. Has anyone heard of people dying of cholera in countries like Germany, America and Japan? Cholera does not break out in these countries. Why do so many people die of cholera in our country? One can say that there are hardly any Muslims in those countries. There are none there who will call on Allah. But God’s wrath does not wreck havoc in those places. There are no incidences of cholera, pox, and black fever there. Every day we summon people to prayer in God’s name and pray to Him; why then does the wrath of God fall on us so? If it would be reported that even one person in those countries had starved to death, the leading members of their government would have run away. And in our country thousands and thousands and even hundred thousands of people starve for days and days but the government just won’t consider this to be something they have to be responsible for!
Whenever there is a flood in our country the government says it is there because of “God’s wrath.” They donate some money. They feel that they’ve done something worthwhile because they’ve handed out some loans and dished out some aid. They make the newspaper headlines by doing such charitable” deeds and feel ever so complacent! They don’t think about how common people can go on thus in the long run. The laws appear to have been framed entirely to protect the rich; it seems that the army is all there to make the rich richer. The taxes that the poor of this country pay are what finance the palatial buildings that are being built and yet they can’t get to eat a proper meal. I’ll not even mention education, shelter and health care. National wealth to the tune of millions and millions are being destroyed
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by floods. It appears that nobody feels responsible for doing anything about them.
Pakistan has one capital in Karachi; two others are now being built, one in Rawalpindi and the other in Islamabad which is only twelve miles away! The total cost of doing so will be 500 crores taka! In East Bengal a so-called capital is being built in what is prime real estate. They are not really building a capital there though; it is only a ploy to hoodwink East Bengal by appearing to build a capital so that their propaganda machinery can highlight this news. Karachi was already the capital of West Pakistan; Rawalpindi was chosen as the interim capital; now Islamabad has been added to the list. And they lack funds to stop flooding in East Bengal! With whom can I share my sorrow in such a situation?
Bangladesh will suffer forever because of treachery of those who have betrayed it. We usually cite Mir Jaffar Ali Khan’s traitorous act in conversation but even before him in 1576 A. D. Bengal had an independent ruler in Daud Karani. His Chief Minister, Sri Hari Bikram-Aditya, and the Commander-in-Chief, Kadlu Lohani, betrayed him and joined the Mogul ranks. After Daud Karani had been betrayed in the battle of Rajmabada and had to face defeat, arrest, and death, Bangladesh was handed over to the Moguls. Bengalis have been involved in many more acts of treachery and betrayals subsequently. They’ve created strife amongst themselves and have invited foreign masters to their country, induced by greed. Mir Jafar brought in the English, murdering Sirajuddowlah in the process, after having betrayed him. But the very same Bengalis were the first to sacrifice their lives and to get involved in the movement against the British. The sepoy mutiny broke out in Barrackpore. And yet we don’t lack treacherous people in the very same land who were eager to support the British. For a little sum of money or for the sake of getting promoted some people of this country have handed over their youths to the British for the paltriest of sums!
Even after Pakistan was created, there was no shortage of men who were willing to play the role of traitors. These are

people eager to give away everything to Pakistan for petty gains. There is no lack of men ready to imprison or aim bullets in the chests of Bengalis struggling for the cause of their country. Bengal is a fertile land of rivers that water its soils; the rich soil of this land produces plentiful crops, but there is also no shortage of weeds and parasites here too! I don’t know if this country can be saved from such traitorous people.
Ittefaq has been shut down: I’ve no idea if I’ll get food for thought anywhere any more. And yet I keep reading the newspapers I get. Who could have shut down Ittefaq?
In the afternoon the Senior Deputy Jailer showed up to inspect the hole in the ground. I said to him, “See if you can find anything inside it.” The gentleman is a Hindu. He was too frightened to talk to me. It was as if he’d rather make his exit as quickly as possible by saying “yes” and “no” to everything. After he had left, I heard that the hole would stay as it was until tomorrow when DIG Sahib would take a look at it. Whatever he said afterwards would decide its fate. Why don’t I feel like eating? I’ve been feeling like this ever since I fell ill. I don’t feel like eating. The mate and the cook say, “Why will we cook for you if you’re not going to eat anything?” I said, “Have your fill; whatever I eat is fine for me.” Our nights begin at dusk since they lock the jail at sunset. All the prisoners are locked in as soon as the sun sets. It is really difficult to spend such a long period of time this way; I couldn’t go to sleep tonight. A lunatic prisoner seemed to have lost his senses totally and had begun screaming as if eager to make things even worse for me. If it were daytime something could have been done; they are other cells for insane prisoners on the other side of this prison. But since it was night, nothing could be done. And so I had to spend the night somehow, calling on Allah all the time!
21″ June 1966 i Tuesday Clouds have filled the sky this day. I heard that the DIG Sahib would come this way, though this is not the day when he is supposed to be coming in this direction. He will be here to take
a look at that hole in the ground. Nourished by the rain water the grass is growing fast; the whole field is looking very beautiful. I keep uprooting all weeds. Whenever I feel good, I walk on the grass, and wherever I see a weed I uproot it.
I hear that Manik Bhai is to be given a separate room, but where are they going to keep him? I’ve been kept in the cell area all by myself. In Cell 26 are the “security” prisoners while the DPR prisoners are in the old prison and Block 1/2. The Intelligence Branch keeps issuing orders so that all Awami Leaguers are kept apart. They have to be given a tough time. Their lives have to be made miserable! Manik Bhai and Mustafa Sarwar have been given “A” class. Mr. Momin, Hafiz Musa, and Shahabuddin Chowdhury have gotten “B” class. Shamsul Huq, Rashad Mussharaf, and Obaidur Rahman are still being kept in “C” division since apparently they haven’t paid any income tax. Anyone with an income of over 1500 Taka is given ‘B’ class. Even if one has a M.A., the highest degree the university can award one, one may still be given a “C” class. If one has the money, one will get a higher class. Education doesn’t matter! Neither your position nor the honors you’ve received matter. Even your position in society doesn’t count for anything!
I told the jail authorities, “If a Professor or a D.C. or a S.P. is somehow or the other forcibly arrested under DPR, should they be given “C” class and only allotted 1 12 taka for the whole day? They’ve been hauling in so many crazy people from the streets and making them DPR prisoners. Shamsul Huq Sahib’s father has a lot of land and Shamsul Huq himself doesn’t work. He is President of the District Awami League. When the Awami League was in power he was the Political Secretary as well as a MPA. Will it be just to deprive him of class and let him survive on an allocation of 1 12 taka a day? We’ll see when our time comes! Obaidur Rahman has a M.A. He was President of the East Pakistan Student League and is now Cultural Secretary of the Awami League. He too has been given ‘C’ class. Rashad Musharraf, whose father is a wealthy man, is Assistant Secretary of the Dhaka City Awami League. His father has a huge house in
the city and he himself runs a small business; he has been given “C” class as well. To whom shall I tell such sad stories to? Just about anyone who had made money in corrupt ways and don’t pay income tax has been getting “A” class. I won’t get to see our people in jail and won’t be able to console them. This government is putting on quite a show! Their meanness has taken on extreme forms.
If repression goes on in this fashion, we’ll probably be forced to oppose their ways. I’ve been protesting to the jail authorities again and again. I feel embarrassed to tell the same thing repeatedly to them though. The jail authorities have only one response: “It’s not in our hands. We just obey orders.” I feel they are embarrassed because we suffer so. But what can I do? When base people run the show you can’t expect them to be gentle. I know there are strict orders from high ups that none will be allowed to stay with me and that none should talk to me. I have to be isolated. I tell myself that if I can stand it, who is there that can hurt me? No matter how difficult they make things for me I won’t become depressed. After all, “No pain can make me sad and no blow can hurt me.” They think that I will end up like my friend Shamsul Huq who was driven mad when he was in prison and who can’t be traced even today; he must have died of starvation somewhere or the other. They would have me go mad like Shamsul Haq through solitary confinement. However, those who want to drive me crazy stand a good chance of going crazy themselves some day!
A few government officials who have been schooled by the English are behind such tactics. I know them well; if I survive justice will be done some day. And if I die, I’ll reveal their names to my colleagues before I pass away. They have to be given the maximum punishment. They must be taught a lesson that they’ll never forget. I’ll alert my colleagues about them before I die. These very officials will be the first ones to switch their allegiance when we come to power; they will sing our praise then!
The newspaper wasn’t delivered today. Journalists are observing “Protest Day” because of the confiscation of the New

Nation Printing Press and the arrest of Manik Bhai and other journalists. No newspapers were delivered at all. The day is a cloudy one; 1 haven’t seen the sun at all. But it hasn’t rained. The rain came streaming down after sunset. I dozed off to restful sleep. This was another day when a crazy prisoner went berserk at 2:00 in the morning; he didn’t make me lose much sleep though.
22nd June 1966 I Wednesday It has been raining heavily since morning. There was not the slightest sign of the rain stopping afterwards. After I had washed up I went to have my breakfast. I saw then that they had given me an egg. Up to now no matter how many eggs they served me, they all seemed to be rotten ones. Those who have contracts to supply eggs here appear to only buy rotten eggs from the bazaar. Who is there to stop them though? Mouths have been gagged. The Contractor Sahib surely knows how to prevent people from talking. Who can you point your finger at? Things are no different in this jail than they are in the rest of the country. There is a lack of people who can see through things. Anyone who tries to be good is vulnerable!
I have a story to tell in this context. This is of an honest officer in a police station. He wouldn’t take any bribes. He didn’t want anyone else to take a bribe either. Everyone began calling him a fool-whether he was a petty employee or a high-ranking one. One day one of his colleagues said to him, “If you are going to be honest, you will lose your job. If you don’t give the big boss his quota, he’ll destroy you.” He didn’t pay any attention to this warning though. He said, “I’ll neither take bribes nor give them.” And he really didn’t! But some days later he was arraigned for bribery. He was then suspended. He subsequently lost his job and had to stand trial. Ultimately the court let him go, but he never got his job back. And things are the same everywhere; in fact, things have become much worse now. Nobody seems to be afraid of being punished. Everyone is doing such things openly.

Those who are outside prison won’t realize what goes on in it. There are many employees who won’t be bribed. These people won’t even take anything home from the jail. I know many such people. They have no way out except to stay silent. In any case, I don’t want for things, everyone is sympathetic as far as I am concerned. They seem to be happy to give me good things. This is the time of the year when eggs tend to get rotten. No doubt they try to give me good eggs but what can they do if they don’t get good ones? Whatever I want, they try to give it to me. I don’t pay much attention to food; I never write down what I would like to have. “See if you can manage to get whatever is needed within 5 taka; if you can’t, let me know and I’ll have it brought from the bazaar with my own money; or if my wife comes visiting, I’ll tell her and she’ll take care of it.” From the ordinary prisoner to the employee- everyone pays attention to my needs so that I don’t face any discomfort. The doctors give me things without my having to ask for them; I don’t have to ask them for anything. I have what I need from whatever is served me. The remaining food is distributed amongst my four mates, cook, cleaner, and the attendants who water the plants and clean the place around here. Of course not all can be given these things on the same day; they have to be given them turn by turn. I told the cook, “Save on a few items each day, and then on a given day cook a little more so that you can distribute the excess to some of them.” In any case, I’ve been able to give the people around me something or the other on a given day and I’ll keep doing so. But the mate, the cook, the cleaner, and the attendant get a share from every meal cooked. How can I eat without them! That is something I just can’t do. I spend a little more on my tea than I should. I buy the tea leaves with my own money. But jail regulations dictate that though these people would stay with me, cook for me, clean my room and wash my clothes, they couldn’t take their meals with me. Their food is supposed to come from outside; in other words, from the government kitchen. They only get what they are allotted. How can I have my food without sharing it with them? I’d rather not eat then; I won’t be able to take my food without sharing it with them.

After I had my breakfast today, I went to bed, pulling my blanket over me as I did so, since it was streaming down torrentially. It was as if the sky was shattering. I just couldn’t go to sleep. I began reading the sections of the old newspaper that I hadn’t gone over before. Then I had tea. Afterwards, I resumed reading the book. When one is alone and it rains this hard, time just won’t pass! At 12 noon, when the security jamadar showed up, I told him I need stuff from the bazaar-biscuits and puffed rice. I usually have puffed rice when I am home. If I had sent word to my people back home, they would have sent these things to me. I don’t feel like giving my wife any trouble though. The poor lady has to do everything all by herself; I’m a sojourner! I’m her guest when I’m home. Here I am a guest of the government. I went out for a walk since the rain had stopped. I seized the opportunity. This is my only form of exercise.
I took a bath and had my food. I then sat down with a book. The jail library had sent me some books. The newspaper came. I read about the case that had been filed in the High Court against the confiscation of the New Nation Printing Press and Manik Bhai’s arrest.
23rd June 1966 1 Thursday Mizanur Rahman Choudhury, MNA, has been arrested and brought in. He is the Acting General Secretary of the Awami League. It seems that they won’t let anyone remain outside. At this time the whole of Pakistan, especially East Pakistan, has become a huge prison. None dare speak up. Section 144 has been imposed in all districts. Tofazzal Husain (Manik Bhai) has been arrested and is being kept in solitary confinement. Arrest warrants are hanging over the head of our party workers. Mizan is being kept in Cell 10. It takes at least 15 days to get a division; I can’t even talk about the quality of food that is going to be served to him during this time. I am waiting to see how many more people will be hauled in. Our demands will surely be realized since Bengalis have learnt how to sacrifice their lives.

The floods have created a calamtious situation; the price of things keeps increasing. A maund of rice is now selling at 40 to 50 taka. People will have no more peace! Peace is something that can’t be got on request; it’s something you have to snatch away. Stand up against the oppressors! They will take fright. People who prefer to hang on to power through coercive methods are in reality spineless. If they are hit, they can collapse.
Nowadays no real news can be found in the newspapers. Most likely they are being censored. They can’t print news about the Anti-Repression Day that has been called. Why don’t you shut the door of the Awami League office! Since you don’t intend to keep anyone outside, why allow an office to run?
Around noon the sun began to peep through the clouds. It seemed that there would soon be sunshine. I’m tired of the rain. The one good thing that has happened because of it though is that the grass is sprouting in my garden and the plot I have has turned green. The green grass has been swaying to the rhythm of the wind. It looks so lovely; anyone coming this way can’t help appreciating my garden. I have pulled out all the weeds myself. I worry about them since if you don’t pull them out they’ll destroy the real plants. Just like our country where we have parasites bent on destroying the real patriots and striving to do so! That’s why I am very afraid of anything that is like a weed. I keep looking for them; if I can’t pull them out myself I call for help. This afternoon I pulled out a lot of them.
My hen and its two chicks wander happily all over the garden and feed on the insects there. The little pigeon hangs around the hen all day. The baby chicks peck at it but the hen doesn’t stop them. But if a crow tries to attack the little bird, the rooster will chase it away. They stay together in the kitchen at night. They all have developed a deep friendship. Staying together has led to love for each other. But human beings often betray their friends. Animals are never unfaithful though. That’s why I sometimes think animals are better than humans in at least one way.

1 asked for tea. Today was a day when I ended up offering tea to anyone I came across. Ordinary prisoners become so eager to have a cup of tea. That’s why I’ve told them: offer tea to anyone who wants to have it. My mate is a little stingy; he doesn’t want to share anything easily. He worries that there may not be enough for me; it might take too much time to fetch it from elsewhere then! I’ve told him, “Even if there is shortage; even it takes time to fetch the tea; they must be given tea when they ask for it.” What else can I offer them in this cruel prison!
In the afternoon I went for a walk once more with my canvas shoes on. I won’t be able to digest my food if I don’t walk. I need to stay fit. And so whenever I can, I take a walk. Ranesh Maitra, a journalist from Pabna, is in Cell 20, which is next to mine. He came here from Pabna to sit for his law tests. He is through with them. I said to him, “How did you perform in the tests?” He said, “Not too bad!” Because of where he has been put, he has to walk past me wherever he goes. Any day now Ranesh Babu will leave for Pabna. Nevertheless, I have been able to see the gentleman every day, even if this was from a distance. Babu Chitta Sutar tells me that even when Ranesh Babu is gone he won’t object to staying by himself since he would still be able to view me, even if it was from a distance. He requested me to talk to the jail administration so that they would place him in that room but why would they listen to me? It was getting to be dusk.
Jamadar Sahib showed up. He started the process of shutting us in. Right then the Deputy Jailer Sahib came to see me. We sat on two chairs on the grass. Perhaps this was the first time the two of us sat down on the grass thus. I sit here a lot; after all, I’m by myself for so long! I said to him, “My colleagues are having a tough time as far as food is concerned; please do something about this. Are Awami League leaders and workers to be treated worse than thieves and robbers? Do you have to torture them thus?” He said, “What is the point in telling me such a thing? We only follow orders.” It was getting to be a bit late in the evening. I took my leave and quickly went back to my cell. The room was locked immediately. I sat down with a book and my notebook.

24th June 1966 I Friday From early morning I tried to tell myself to get up but just couldn’t, I just didn’t feel like doing so. The mate brought the tea. I sat on the bed and had it. I saw that the sky looked good. There is a Shefali and a Kamini tree right next to my door. When the Kamini is in bloom, my room is full of its fragrance. A little further away are two mango trees and a lemon tree. It is as if the green leaves on the trees have become greener with the rain and have become even more beautiful. It felt so good to see them. The field is full of green grass. And then the trees-it felt so good to see them all. I saw them to my heart’s fill. They seemed to have taken on a new and even more beautiful look. The baby chicks and the baby pigeon were strolling all over the field.
Someone or the other came to me and said, “Do you have a Sultan in your party? They’ve hauled him here this morning. He is from Dhaka.” I said, “I know who you are talking about; Sultan is a full-time worker in the Awami League office.” He is a very selfless man. He knows Dhaka city like the back of his hands. He knows every single worker and his address. He doesn’t mind taking on work. He keeps working night and day. If you order him to do something he’ll do it. He has his own perspective on things.
Sultan’s aunt has raised Sultan and his two brothers. I am very intimate with them all. A few days after I had become a minister in A.K. Fazlul Huq Sahib’s cabinet in 1954, the Central Muslim League government had proclaimed Section 192A and had dissolved his ministry. Huq Shahib was put under house arrest. I was arrested from my Minto Road house and taken to Dhaka Central Jail. My wife had come to Dhaka only recently. Although she had visited Kolkata a few times before Bangladesh was partitioned to meet me, she was a newcomer in Dhaka; she didn’t know people well then. She was having a tough time. The government had issued orders to have us vacate the house within 14 days. She didn’t have a lot of money with her. Where would
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she rent a house? It was at this time that my friend Yar Mohammed Khan arranged for her to rent Sultan’s house in Nazirabazar through Haji Helaluddin. The three Sultan brothers and their aunt used to live in the house next door. The old lady used to love my wife and children very much. Anyone who hadn’t seen her with them wouldn’t even be able to imagine how much she actually cared for them. The police used to come to my house all the time to find out if there were any of our political workers stowed away there. There is a type of officer who is always looking out for himself and is an opportunist who will change his color according to the occasion.
My wife was having a tough time managing everything since the children were so small. It is from this time that our two families became so close to each other. My children and the two of us won’t ever forget them. We call the old lady “Grandma”. Anytime she cooked a tasty dish, she would share it with us. Sultan stays with me. He works for our party, I feel that his arrest is going to make things difficult for our party. Since they have been arresting all our leaders and workers, it seems they will end up arresting even our office peon. Mr. Moneim Khan is capable of doing anything. There is nothing in the world that he can’t do. Mr. Ayub Khan has got the perfect lackey; after all, “One knave recognizes another”! But they’ll lose more than they’ll gain in the process. He’ll find proof of this soon and has already got some inkling of this.
They haven’t kept Sultan with other Awami League leaders and workers; he has been put with other DPRs.
I read in the Morning News at noon that the President of the Karachi Awami League had issued a statement. He says in it: “Nawabzada Nasrullah Khan, President of the Pakistan Awami League, Malik Golam Jilani, Khawaja Mohammed Rafiq and Mr. Siddiqul Hasan have informed me from jail that they support the Six Points formula of Sheikh Mujib’ and that there is no difference of opinion between the West Pakistan Awami League and the East Pakistan Awami League.”” I know that truth will

ultimately triumph. One of these days our West Pakistani brothers will support the Six Points, ensuring thereby a solid foundation for Pakistan. All over Pakistan, Awami League workers are being tortured. They are making no distinctions between East and West Pakistan in the process. Leaders from both East and West Pakistan have been imprisoned at this time. The Awami League itself seems to be in jail. “You can put a people in jail but not principles.”
Mr. Aslam Khan is the General Secretary of the Convention Muslim League. No one probably has heard his name before; he must have been “imported” lately. The gentleman claims that he found no evidence of support for the Six Points all over East Bengal. My friend, just wait for a while; it’ll take a long time for you to find out what Bangladesh really is like. You’ll not gain much by trying to be their tout. Haven’t you learnt anything from Mr. Bhutto’s fate? There were quite a few secretaries before you took on the job who had also talked big in public, where are they now? In all probability they’ve all disappeared without leaving even a trace.
Slighting the Six Points, Dr. Nurul Huda had said, “Pakistan will become weak because of it.” But they say nothing about dividing Pakistan into two. I know Dr. Huda well. He had said one thing before he became a minister and is saying something else now. “Alas, the allure of a ministerial position! What magic do you have for people! Whoever you have offered a bone to has become obedient to you!”
In the evening Jailer Sahib showed up. He had been on leave for a few days. His father-in-law had passed away. Jailer Sahib is of a cheerful disposition. He is also very amiable. The only thing I said to him was, “You didn’t have to keep my party people in such discomfort. Are they the worst bunch of people you have? I do understand your difficulty. No doubt there is someone telling you on the phone precisely where Awami League people should be kept. You do have to follow his orders, don’t you? In any case though, know that there is a limit to how much we can stand.

It’s all right for you to keep me all alone; I’ll stay by myself. I’ve stayed thus often. But let them arrange to have their food cooked before them. They can supervise the cooking and have their food they want to eat then. If the government tries to prevent them from doing so, know that we will choose the path which we consider right for us. You treat us so gently that we can’t do anything at all. You’ve transferred my colleagues and co-workers to different jails. Think about what I’ve said.” I could see that the poor fellow was feeling unhappy.
The time to be locked in had come. I stopped talking immediately. The moment I entered the room, the light went out. The electric fan too stopped rotating. I lighted the lantern and sat down with a book. I studied until late night. From time to time I looked outside and gazed at the dark. This is what is known as “relieving one’s eyes”!
I read Dr. M. Nurul Huda’s speech carefully once again. A highly educated gentleman; someone who is a professor of Dhaka University! All of a sudden he was made a minister because someone decided to be kind to him and now he is trying to become a politician! No doubt this is why when he takes part in politics he has no control over his speeches. Perhaps he himself doesn’t know what he is talking about. This is why I decided to write down what he said; his words might be of use in future.
“The Finance Minister also brought serious allegations against the advocates of the Six Point Program of the Awami League. He said that certain forces continued to work to have the Consortium Aid postponed. These forces also thrust a war on Pakistan. But their two actions failed to break Pakistan as the people stood united like a rock Then came the Six Point Program of the Awami League.
This Program really aims at setting up a weak national government, which means a weak Pakistan, the Finance Minister commented. The most important thing is, however, the timing of the Program, he added.” Pakistan Observer, 24.6.66

In covering the ministry, the gentleman has stooped so low that he hasn’t hesitated to cast aspersions on a party’s patriotism or people’s patriotism. If things are to be said they should be said openly,
It was getting late. What else could I do but go to bed?
25th June 1966 1 Saturday I walked for a long time. I didn’t feel like reading. Better to walk than sit all alone. That’s why I kept walking all by myself. My wife had sent some mangoes from our village home and some biscuits. But how can one man eat them all? A good thing though that I can offer some mangoes to the prisoners; they have such bad luck! If someone deigns to give them a few even once a year they are bound to be of the worst quality. After all, the contractors are the ones who supply such stuff! And so you can easily understand what kind of mangoes they are fated to have. I sliced the mangoes and then offered some to whoever was at work in front of me. And of course I set some aside for those who look after me.
I sat down with a book. Jamadar Sahib and Compounder Sahib dropped by. They sat down in my room. I said to them: “So what’s happening? I believe the countryside has been flooded; who knows what will happen to the crops?” Compounder Sahib said, “A young woman and a young man have been arrested and brought here. The two had married after falling in love with each other. The woman’s father had filed a case and had got them arrested and brought here. The young man won the suit today. He had fetched a car and took the young woman in it. The woman was over the moon!” It seemed to me that Compounder Sahib was delighted at the turn of events. I said, “It seems that you too are happy.” He said, “I felt very good seeing both of them so happy.” I said, “The impetuousness of youth can lead to such a situation but the end result won’t be that good.” There are many examples of such things happening that can be offered as proof. I have no problems if a boy and a girl who like each other decide to marry.

However, society is bound to collapse if all controls are loosened. There are many instances of this outcome when failure to achieve happiness leads to dire consequences. That’s why nowadays you get to see so many cases of marriages in our society ending up in divorce. The consequences are not good. The country already has had to deal with such situations. Female education is important; this country will not be free until women are educated, but our society must take note too of the increase in shameful happenings that seem to be on the rise.” Compounder Sahib had more work to do and so he left; after all, he isn’t a guest of the government like me! He has many more injunctions to give.
I concentrated on the book. The mate came and said, “Sir, won’t you have coconut water?” I said, “Bring me some.” I have tummy aches and an irregular stomach. That’s why I take coconut water from time to time. After drinking the coconut water, I went out, pipe in hand. Once more to the garden! The flower garden is my only friend; I’ve fallen in love with it. The people I love and care for are so far away although so close by! I can’t get to see them even if I want to do so. And so I have to keep my thoughts about them in my mind. I get to see my wife and children twice a month, but there is no way I can see anyone else. What can I do then except wish them the very best?
After my bath I ate and took refuge in my bed. A boy called Matiar usually brings water for our cell area. He is from Tangail and used to study in a school there. A row in a football game had resulted in a murder. He was sentenced to six years imprisonment in the case that had been filed afterwards. He came to request me to tell Jailer Sahib to allow him to sit for his matriculation examination in jail. I said, “When Jailer Sahib comes I’ll request him but it’s up to him to decide.” The boy comes here to read the newspapers. I was told that Jailer Sahib had punished him once for violating jail regulations and therefore didn’t want to permit him to sit for the test now. He was still upset at what the boy had done. Jailer Sahib had initially placed him in his office but when he created a problem there he
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threw him out. I nevertheless assured him that I’d convey his request to Jailer Sahib.
The newspaper arrived. I read in the Morning News that Mr. Khan Abdus Sabur Khan had said: “The people of Bangladesh have seen through Awami League’s bluff; no one has taken part in its ‘Anti-Repression Day’.” He is off to Rawalpindi; no doubt he intends to make his bosses happy with such a comment. That must be why he said these things while talking to journalists in a press conference held at the airport. But saying such things won’t prevent Bengalis from voicing their demands anymore; you better know that Mr. Sabur! He has been pressing charges, taking repressive measures, and putting people in jail. He has shut down newspapers. But such measures can’t stop a people’s movement; if he is thinking that they will do so he is mistaken.
The Morning News has put “Khan’ before and after Mr. Khan’s name–that is the West Pakistani way! Initially, he was “Abdus Sabur Khan;” now he is “Khan Abdus Sabur Khan”! Brilliant! That is what is needed. A gentleman like him has no idea that educated people in West Pakistan laugh at them in secret. One of the leaders of this very same Muslim League went to Northwest Frontier Province to search for his forefather’s grave. What is it that Sabur Sahib is searching for in that part of the country at this moment?
One of NAP’s most prominent members of parliament, Mr. Ahmedul Kabir, has been demanding that the land-tax imposed on five acres of land be withdrawn. Speaking on behalf of Awami League 4 years ago, I had demanded relief on rent for up to 25 bigha of land and had organized many public meetings and initiated a movement for this cause. I had even managed to have this Awami League issue included in the Opposition’s All Party 12 point demands. Although the late Kawaja Nazimuddin Sahib had at first objected to it, he finally had to accept it. Some leaders of the NAP party would support the Six Points secretly but would feel too embarrassed to do so openly; others, however, were opposed to it. The day is coming though when one will not

be able to do politics in this country without subscribing to the demand for Six Points and autonomy. But of course there are many who will use politics only to further their business interests.
I heard in the afternoon that Mizan has been sleeping all the time. He had probably not been allowed to sleep well previously. In the evening I came to know that Khwaja Mohiuddin of Narayanganj had been brought to Cell 20 after having being arrested. Many cases have been filed against him. A High Court directive has allowed him to sit for the examination but he hasn’t been given division. He has an examination day after tomorrow but there are too many mosquitoes here and he has no mosquito net. I immediately had a mosquito net sent to him. Since he has become my neighbor I will be able to arrange things for him. He’ll not have to suffer a lot.
I find Khwaja Mohiuddin to be a very strong-willed and courageous worker. He doesn’t seem to be the least intimidated. He is very strong mentally. I have no doubt that if he keeps working for the country at this rate, this young man will one day become famous as a leader. If one has the spirit of self-sacrifice, the right ideals and is strong-hearted, then one day the people of this country will give one the due reward.
26th June 1966 1 Sunday Since early morning, I’ve had a bad headache. As soon as I left the bed, the headache got worse. I find such headaches unbearable. I sat outside for a long time and had tea, but nothing seemed to work to relieve me of the headache. I have Saredon with me but don’t take it unless I really have to. I went back to bed again. But lying down made the headache even worse and so I went out for a walk. The breeze was refreshing. The pain seemed to lessen a bit.
Today is Sunday; it is the day for prisoners to wash clothes. I have decided that I will not take Saredon unless I have to. I didn’t say anything to the mate or the guard though. By the

time it was ten o’clock I had started to feel better. When I was outside the jail headaches would often cause me a lot of discomfort. I used to take two or three Saredon pills and keep quiet then. After an half an hour or so I would usually start to feel better. Then I would plunge into work again. Renu doesn’t want me to take Saredon. She objects strongly to my taking the pills. She says it could trouble my heart. Whenever she objected I would tell her I don’t have a heart anymore; the one I had collapsed a long time back. I never listened to her when I was outside but now that I am in jail I feel I have to pay heed to her objection.
The Deputy Jailer showed up. A little later Jamadar Sahib showed up with his troops as well. They wanted to carry out a search in my room. Was I hiding anything illegally? This is how it is in prison. Once a week they search the rooms of all political prisoners. But they don’t search my room that thoroughly. They just come and leave after carrying out a cursory inspection. They know that I am not into doing anything illegal and I don’t possess any contraband items. When they show up I tell them on my own, “I am vacating the room so that you can carry out your search.” If they want to they can do a body search but no one except the jailer and the deputy jailer is authorized to do so. The sepoys didn’t come inside the room; only Jamadar Sahib came in to take a look
I said, ‘Although you come here every week you never find anything, if you only let me know when you intend to come, I’ll keep some illegal items for you! They even try to find out if I send any letters outside, or if any arms have been smuggled in from outside to help me run away. I know of no political prisoner who imports any arms to prison. But in the past letters and brief notes would often be recovered from political prisoners. They would use them thus to keep in touch with each other in the various cells. They would also use them to link an area with another one. When they wanted to face up to the authorities or government such things would enable them to connect with each other. That’s how they would keep in touch.

But they don’t do such things anymore. For where can they seek justice anymore?
Jamadar Sahib left but the Deputy Jailer sat with me for a while. I told him about the way my colleagues were being treated by the government. Even the worst kind of prisoner is not kept in as dismal a condition as Awami League workers and Manik Bhai are being kept at this time. I know nothing will come out of the allegations I have been making. After the arrests have been made, they will come to the jail gate with the arrested persons and issue instructions there about who should be kept where. Where they will be kept?
Prisoners are normally allowed to make their own cooking arrangements if jail authorities think they can do so. But they are not given that benefit anymore even after frequent requests. I cannot get to see my party people who have been kept in this jail. I have been kept on one side and they have been kept on the other one. There seems to be no way of meeting them here in this jail. The government has decreed that no one should be kept with me and I shouldn’t be allowed to maintain links with anyone. I don’t know whether they get any news about me, but I keep myself informed about them and about how they are being kept.
The Deputy Jailer left. Sunday is a holiday. And yet these The people don’t get any leave then. They have a lot of work.
They have hauled in the General Secretary of the Jute Mills Federation, Abdul Mannan from Naryanganj. They didn’t grant him bail; he has been made an accused in a case filed in Narayanganj. The gentleman was nowhere near the scene. I was told that mosquito bites have puffed up his face and arms. Many others had been arrested and locked up in Narayanganj jail. There are many students among the arrestees. They aren’t being given bail. Neither have they been given proper clothes or division status. All the arrestees have lost so much weight that they have been reduced to half of what they were. More than three hundred people have been made accused. They have been throwing anyone they can get hold of into jail.

The “National Government”: keep on torturing us; you will have to contend with the consequence one of these days, and that day is not too far off! Don’t talk about “ruthlessness” then! Who are the people responsible for such ruthlessness? Bengalis-for the sake of jobs they want to do. Don’t they know for whom these people sacrificed their lives? For whom have they been enduring such pain? Many of these people have children who are undergoing a lot of suffering because they don’t have enough to eat. When they are eventually released they will go out into the world only to find that everyone has disappearedall over! If you lock up the bread winner of the family, if you intern the man who looked after his children, wife and old parents by earning on a daily basis through his labor, all the family members will go hungry. They will die a slow death. Doesn’t the government know this? Is there a limit to the selfinterest of a few educated professionals of our country who are so bent on getting promotion for themselves that they end up ruining whole families?
Khawaja Mohiuddin has been permitted to sit for his examination. However, another young man-Milki-didn’t have permission. The jail authorities had asked Dhaka’s SDO. He had said that he would consult DC Sahib and then let him know. The exams start tomorrow but SDO Sahib has not said anything to him about the outcome. The DC Sahib of Dhaka is a great favorite of the Governor. He is the one who didn’t give the permission. The young man stood there with a glum face. He is going to lose a whole year. He gave his fees, had everything ready, but wasn’t allowed to sit for his examination!
He is in old Cell 20. From a distance I said to him, “No worries my brother! I too had been expelled from Dhaka University. Many among those who had expelled me had come to see me later. I had forgiven them then. I could have had my revenge later, but I did nothing. Have faith in Allah.” I was wondering what diet Khawaja Mohiuddin would be given as he sat for the examination. I told Deputy Jailer Sahib, “Please look after the young man.” I’ve some things that I could give him but
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won’t be permitted to do so. I thought, however, that even if it wasn’t legally permissible, I should try to give him something. I met him as he went by my cell. I moved towards him and told him affectionately, “Don’t worry, you’ll pass the test. Keep a cool head on your shoulders as you write.”
I have bought two chickens from the bazaar today with money I had saved from my food expenses. They keep wandering all over the garden. The sun set; we too entered our cages. Our “landlord” closed our cage doors from outside. Perhaps he thought: “let them feel comfortable; they need not fear for thieves and thugs. I’ve guards on patrol!”
27th June 1966 | Monday I don’t feel well; the cook, Keramat Ali, has been unwell too and has had a raging fever since nighttime. I said to him, “Go to the hospital,” but he won’t agree to go there. I found that he still had fever. If they get a new person to cook for me I won’t be able to stomach the cooking. I had barely managed to teach this one to cook! When the doctor showed up I gave him some medicine. He stayed in bed. From his bed he directed one of the helpers to somehow cook the dishes.
I don’t feel like reading today; my head feels dizzy. Next to my cell are new Cell 20 and five cells of Block 2. They have some ‘celebrity interns, including a Mukhtar Babu from Patuakhali. A new intern, a man called Nuruddin convicted in a case related to robbery, has been kept here too. He is from Goalonda subdivision. He is from a good and well-off family; he himself is an educated man. At night I was listening to him sing from my bed. He sings wonderfully. If he really applied himself, he would become one of the best known singers of Bangladesh. But he pays no heed to the law. He won’t listen to anyone. He has been roughed up quite a lot since he has been here. He doesn’t respect anyone and says whatever he feels like saying. The jail authorities have deducted all of the marks he had earned. In other words, he has been black-listed. He won’t have any more marks added to his score either. In a span of 3

months prisoners can earn 18 to 23 days of such marks. In other words, if prisoners behave and don’t break the law, they will have their 9 months in prison calculated as a whole year. But whatever marks Nuruddin accrued have been taken away from his score by the jail authorities. He will have to do hard labor for the full ten years now. If he had been a model prisoner he would have been released in about seven years or so. Now he will have to serve out the full sentence. He said to me, “I’ll serve the entire sentence. And I don’t intend to leave. I’d much rather die! I don’t intend to find out how my parents are doing. I’ve brought shame on them by going to jail for murder.” His mother had come to visit him in Faridpur once but he has told her not to come to see him anymore. He came to jail when he was 22. He has wasted away having to eat food served to prisoners for 7/8 years now and having to survive misquote bites regularly. His manners have made him the target of abuse and in the process he has ruined his health. Everyone says, “He is dangerous!”
I said to Nuru, “Tell me, why spoil your life? You’ve brought shame to your parents and dishonor to your family; how will merely suffering in prison help you? Everyone in jail thinks you are terrible. As long as you are here, try to behave. Serve your time as quickly as you can and then go home. Return to your parents and don’t put your foot on this path again.”
He said, “Sir, you don’t have to listen to my story, sad though it may be. I’ll try to follow your advice, but how can I face my parents again? I’d much rather spend my whole time in prison creating a ruckus. What will I gain by going to the world outside? The best thing that could happen to me is death.” I said, “Although it’s very unlikely, if I get out of prison before you do then come and meet me. I’ll write to your father and brother. But once you are out of prison, stay home for a while and don’t set your foot on that crooked road this time.” He said, “Take me to where you are.” I said, “They won’t let you stay with me. I myself have no objections to that. Please sing for me Nuru, let me listen to you singing; I like to hear you do so.” He sang many
songs for me. I said, “Sing songs whose lyrics and tunes are rooted in the soil of Bengal.” I sat down on the verandah floor. Nuru sat on the verandah near his cell. I heard him sing for a long time. I then went out for a walk.
The newspapers came when I was reading a work of fiction after lunch. When I got the papers I put the book down. As soon as they arrive, people flock to my room to take a look at it. Hashem Mian from Barisal, a “member of the jail who does sentry duty as well, and was once upon a time President of his Union Board, was one of these people. He had shot someone in self-defense once and was thus serving a six year sentence. Among the others who came to read the papers are Motiur Rahman of Tangail and Rafiq, a cleaner of my cell area. They have enough education to read newspapers. That’s why I give them the Bengali newspapers. Nowadays there is hardly any news worth reading in them. The newspapers are so “free” that no one dares to print anything in them!
In the afternoon the Civil Surgeon came to see me. I said I’m fine. But although according to Jail Board regulations no one should be kept in solitary confinement for more than two months at a time, I have been kept here longer than that. I didn’t say anything more to the doctor though since he is a very good man. He treats his patients here as patients and not as convicts. He also tries to pay attention so that prisoners get the right medicine and the food they need.
I went out of the room after a while since I need to look after my health. I saw Jailer Sahib coming my way. He spent some time with me and then left. He praised my garden a lot. I went out for a walk once more till it was time again to come in. Ten more minutes and they would have locked me out. Political prisoners shouldn’t be locked in. For a long time during the British period there was no provision to lock the doors of political prisoners. Why lock the door? Asphyxiate me if you must; I won’t mind even that! But stop the repression. Restore the rights of our people!
28th June 1966 1 Tuesday What a mess I am in! The cook has fallen ill; who is going to cook now? If someone new is brought here I’ll have to go without food for a few days! Although I really don’t know much about cooking, I had worked with the cook to come up with a system that would do for me. The mate said, “I have a chicken which is laying eggs now.” This made me happy-a chicken laying eggs, in jail! I said to him, “Great! Keep the eggs aside so that the chicken can hatch eggs and ensure that no one eats them!”
Cell 26 is for security prisoners. There are prisoners who have been here from the time they were arrested in 1958! The government shows no sign of wanting to release them. The prisoners themselves have no intention of bowing their heads in submission. Many of them have been here since the British period. They keep sending me squash leaves and sprouts, and vegetables such as jhinga, and kakro/from Cell 26. The prisoners there have a garden but how can they eat its produce without sharing them with me? To send the stuff to me they have to cross five cells-not an inconsiderable distance. In all probability they had to insist on sending them. It makes me so happy to think that they have me in mind and care so much for me. They are the sacrificing sort; they have sacrificed many things for our country’s sake. They have given up so much of their lives in this cruel prison! I send my greetings to them. They know that I have been kept in solitary confinement and that this is very painful for me; perhaps these are the reasons they are so sympathetic.
They’ve served fali fish today. The cook said, “I should make a kofta (fish ball) dish with the fish.” But he really doesn’t know how to do it; 1 too don’t. But this is what must be done. I told him, “This must be the way to do it.” The cook and I exchanged views on the recipe and finally decided to adopt a middle course for the dish. It was prepared accordingly. When I sat down to eat what was intended to be the kofta, I realized that it was not that but a new concoction! But what could be done about that now? I ate what had been prepared silently. I said, “My dear men, it’s nowhere near the dish served at home. Nevertheless, let me eat
the dish; after all it is fali fish that has been cooked. It is not something that I’ve had in jail before!” But I laughed to myself; I’ve qualified to be a cook! Lucky for me that no one from the outside world was around; if they had even tasted a bit of the fish they would have poured the kofta curry on my head. This was at least one occasion when it was good to be all alone!
The newspaper arrived. Bhashani Sahib’s political malady has apparently left him. Whenever people were being fired upon, or a movement was in full swing, or they were arresting people right and left, I would see Bhashani Sahib becoming severely ill. I also noted that when two or three days later he was scheduled to be going somewhere or the other he would fall and hurt his leg. How can such a sick man go out of the house all of a sudden? When Awami League’s workers and those of other parties were in jail and when in Narayanganj alone arrest warrants had been issued against 350 people, he had kept completely mum! When the Awami League was observing “Anti-Repression Day” these pro-Bhasani “progressive people had labeled the movement as a “separatist” one and had joined hands with the government. Suddenly he is saying that an All Party United Front should be formed and he himself is going to be active in the political field!
Maulana Sahib has been supporting Mr. Ayub overtly and covertly. If the Maulana intends to form a United Front how can Mr. Ayub go wrong in forming another one? The Maulana isn’t spending too much time thinking about the country’s problems. He is too preoccupied with foreign policy! Until there is a people’s movement or steps taken for the fulfillment of people’s demand, there will be no real changes in foreign policy. It’s only when a people’s government is established that the foreign policy that the people want will be implemented by our leaders. I simply can’t figure out how the demands of the people can be met when a dictator has seized power in the country and is directing foreign and domestic policy in the interests of a particular class. When the people of East Bengal are moving forward with demand for self-rule, more food, and release of
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political prisoners under the leadership of the Awami League, he is trying to stab us from the back with his proposal of a United Front! Almost all leaders and workers of the Awami League are in prison at this time. Some of them have gone underground or have run away and are doing what they can from whereever they are. The few Awami Leaguers who are still outside will never join these people. They won’t accept any program except the Six Point one. The Six Point program is the minimum demand. There can be no compromise here. Since the people are coming forward with their support the demands are going to be realized. The Awami League will go ahead with its movement. Our people can’t be fooled anymore. Too much of a mess has been created already. Enough is enough! Let Bhashani move forward in the company of the people of Mr. Ayub’s party. He must be happy now. And so why deceive people anymore? If the Awami League or its leaders try to abandon the Six Points and compromise on the issue they’ll be making a mistake. People will certainly abandon them then. Writ petitions have been filed in the High Court on behalf of the Chittagong Awami League leaders, M.A. Aziz, Zahur Ahmed Choudhury, Manik Babu and Abdul Mannan. Let’s see what kind of justice is dispensed to them.
29th June 1966 I Wednesday I woke up with drops of rain on me. A part of the mosquito net had become wet. I was in deep sleep and didn’t feel it a bit. It’s raining hard. But when the rain was really needed there was none. Now that it’s not needed we have this downpour! Floods have been creating a lot of damage to the country. Prices of rice, oil, and other essentials keep increasing. Surely Moneim Khan’s speeches will have to fill people’s stomach! He says the floods are from Allah; God tests people through such trials. What can one say to that? Floods are now being controlled successfully all over the world; many countries have succeeded in doing so. Keeping one’s eyes wide open is a good idea. But how can you fault the man? What does he really know and what can he possibly say? In a way Khan Sahib is a good man in this respect; he confesses
openly that it is on Mr. Nurul Amin’s orders that he goes around bullying people. Now he is the Governor. Good for him! “From a goon to Governor! First, one must be a thug, and then a leader; this is how one defines a leader nowadays!”
All of a sudden I bled from my stomach. I looked at the toilet and saw red stains everywhere. What could be the matter? had been cured of piles a long time back; it has been almost three years ago since this happened. I have no stomach problems. I became very upset. At ten I went to the toilet one more time. I saw blood once again. I realized I had another attack of piles. But what is the point of worrying? I’ll just have to endure it. Doctor Sahib arrived. He said, “I’m prescribing some medicine.” He had the medicine sent to me later. I am careful whenever I am in jail. I want to stay well; I want to live; I’ve so much work to do! Nevertheless, one disease or the other keeps bothering me.
Yesterday, the Opposition members walked out from the National Assembly hall twice on the same day in protest against the Speaker’s ruling. I believe that all opposition and independent members should resign from this assembly. What is the point of becoming a member of an assembly that has this kind of power? These people don’t even come close to having the kind of power that a parliament is supposed to confer on them by convention. To impress the world, the President has created this assembly, he has kept all power in his own hands. This is the first time that I’ve heard of a Speaker who will not allow the leader of the Opposition to speak.
The Prime Minister of China, Chou En Lai, has gone to Rawalpindi to discuss the latest situation with Mr. Ayub. We would like to welcome you Mr. Lai. We too would like to be friends with China. But please don’t issue a certificate again! Previously too you and your foreign minister had given grand certificates. But they will not serve any purpose. Since you believe in the freedom of the masses, it won’t be proper for you to issue a certificate to a government that has snatched away the rights of the people. This constitutes interference in the internal affairs of another country. Your path should be different from

the one pursued by American imperialism on this issue. In 1957 I had been to China as the leader of the Pakistan Parliamentary Delegation. You, your government, and your people displayed a lot of affection and care for us then, and the honor you showed me and the other members of the delegation by allowing me to speak in your Parliament is something that I haven’t forgotten to this day. I would like to see you all prosper. I hope you won’t adopt a policy for other countries that is in variance with the one you have adopted for your own country. While you believe in socialism, what we have in our country is capitalism, and it is the spokespersons of capitalism that you are handing out these certificates to! Like the American Government, you are deviating from your own principles. The oppressed people of the world have great expectations from you. The Americans too believe in practicing democracy in their own country but kill democracy and install dictators in other countries to protect their own interests!
This isn’t the day for me to have interviews but Jamadar Sahib came and said, “Let’s go; you have an interview.” I went quickly only to see that my wife hadn’t come. She has been sick for the last few days. The children have come though. Seeing me, my youngest son seemed to forget his mother’s absence for a while. The children told me about their schoolwork. My mother is in Khulna and is much better. They talked to me about all sorts of things. They would like to have so many things! Was I having a hard time? My younger daughter keeps hovering near me so that I can fondle her. My elder daughter said, “Dad’s hairs have all turned grey.” My eldest son says nothing and keeps quiet. He’s too shy.
My company’s manager came to discuss business matters. I said to him, “Contact the people who used to do business with us; if you tell them about me, they will surely offer you good deals once again.”
My youngest son seemed to think of his mother. I immediately said, “Go home as quickly as you can; he’ll start crying.”

The children left. I watched them leave. I thought that Renu must be very unwell, for otherwise she would have come; a minor ailment wouldn’t confine her to the house. I came back to my place in the jail. I’m all alone in this silent room made of bricks. I’ll have to stay alone once again. Inevitably, all kinds of thoughts come to my mind then!
30 June 1966 1 Thursday I got up in the morning and took a walk. Some of the boys who were arrested after the hartal or general strike that took place on the 7th have been kept in old Cell 20 which is near my cell. They had come out to get their breakfast. Seeing me, two of the boys came towards me. One of them said, “Sir, we’ve not been given any sentence and so we can’t work to earn anything. Nor are we being given bail. We’ve came here from our village to look for a job. Tell me what should I tell them by way of a reply? Do they know that I too am a prisoner like them, and not a mere prisoner, but someone who is being kept in isolation? I said nothing to them and kept quiet. To myself I said, “How long will such oppressive tactics go on?” Don’t these people know about kindness and compassion? Don’t our ruling class and government officials have children of their own and can’t they understand how these boys feel? If anyone has done anything wrong, see that justice is administered speedily. There are a lot of prisoners here who have been kept in custody for two to three years for minor offences without trial. Even if they had been tried in a court they would not have been sentenced to any more than six months of imprisonment according to the law applicable in such cases. Such injustice masquerading as justice! Those of you who are outside will never really be able to understand the state of my mind at times like this one. You would only be able to understand how I feel here if you could have seen this brick room of the jail.
I am not well. They won’t give me any good books for reading: not even Reader’s Digese! They won’t let me read the books that I like to read. They can’t keep governing in this manner. They don’t

understand that the consequences will be terrible. When the British left they transferred power to their lackeys but such a thing won’t happen again. They are aware of such things but this doesn’t seem to have enlightened them in any way.
I came to my room. The Jamadars and sepoys are all astir. Their big boss will be coming to their duty area. He comes to visit us and listen to what we have to say regularly. When it was nearly 10 O’clock he showed up in my room with his contingent and sat down for a while. He said, “How are you doing?” I replied, “I am fine, I’ve nothing to tell you.” I had decided I would say nothing. I would serve my full term all alone. Let them intern me in jail as long as they want to; it won’t matter at all. I’ve spent a lot of my life in solitary confinement. He left. I sat down with a book once again.
When at noon the newspaper came I read that the Council of Newspaper Editors, the All Pakistan Newspaper Association, and the Joint Committee formed by the Federal Journalist Union’s representatives have declared a day-long token strike on July 5th in protest against the measures adopted by the government against the Daily Ittefaq and have appealed to the newspaper industry and news agency organizations to participate in this strike. They have also requested them not to publish any evening newspaper on July 5″ and the morning papers on July 6h. Members of the Coordinating Council have protested against the imprisonment of Mr. Tofazzal Husain and confiscation of his personal property, the New Nation Printing Press, in a strongly worded statement.
This is undoubtedly a welcome change. While today it was Ittefaq and the Ittefaq editor, who knows what other newspaper and its owner could be similarly targeted tomorrow? There is no freedom of the press in the country; now they have begun confiscating private property. It is frightening to think in which direction its ruling class is taking Pakistan. It is imperative that irrespective of party affiliations, one stands up against such repressive methods.
The month of June came to an end today!
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19 July 1966 I Friday
I learned in the morning that there was trouble last night around 10 in Cell 10 when it was time for its inmates to be locked in. This is where Manik Bhai, Shamsul Huq, Rafique, Mizan, Momin, Obaed, Hafiz Musa Sahib, Sultan, Haroon Rashid and possibly Rashed Musharraf, and many others have been interned. As long as Manik Bhai is being kept here, there can be no possibility of any trouble erupting, since none of us would dare do any wrong in front of him. I haven’t received the correct news as yet. The sepoys have been talking about the incident. A few of them have been saying that the sahibs in Cell 10 are not at fault. A few others say it was not befitting for leaders of such stature to get into an argument with the sepoys; after all, they are leaders of this country and have been serving time in prison for the country’s sake. They feel that even if the sepoys had said a lot of things to them they would have kept quiet.
Around 10 O’clock I learned that when they had gone to lock up Mizanur Rahman’s room, one of the older sepoys named Motiullah began creating a racket after the door had been locked. He was supposedly testing the lock to see if it had been shut properly. Mizan had said to Motiullah then that he should tell the sepoy who was on duty at night to test the locks gently since his sleep would otherwise be disturbed. The guards are changed every two hours at night. The sepoy said that he was supposed to pull the lock hard. Mizan had been locked up by then. From outside Mr. Momin asked the sepoy where he was from that he could talk to him thus. His room had not been locked yet. They exchanged angry words. Motiullah blew up the incident and told the jail authorities that our party men had tried to manhandle the sepoy. Our people demanded paper so that they could complain to the DIG in writing. Such hullabaloo! I called the security jamadar and sent word to Manik Bhai so that no one did anything more to aggravate the situation. “A gentleman must be able to stomach a blow.” Ninety percent of the sepoys respect us and have sympathy for us. I believe that since Manik Bhai is around, things will not get any worse. In the

afternoon I learned that our party people have calmed down. It wouldn’t be proper to get into any exchanges with the sepoys. They only execute the orders that they receive. If we have anything to say, we should say it to Jailer Sahib, the Deputy Jailer or DIG Sahib. It’s not at all proper to get into any argument with these sepoys.
Many amongst us are experiencing jail life for the first time. If they had been with me there would have been no trouble, but the government will not allow anyone to stay with me lest I create a “revolution” within the jail. In the afternoon I called Motiullah and told him not to harbor any grudges because of the incident. Because I have known him for a long time, I am aware that he talks a lot but I also know that he is not a bad person.
I’m feeling a bit better since it didn’t rain today. I keep walking and that makes my body feel light. Renu is not well. She couldn’t come to see me. The thought makes me feel sad. Babu Chitto Sutar and Ranesh Maitra stay in Block 5 of old Cell 20. Their outside door is locked at all times—for what if we meet each other? Good grief-the entire country might be trouble in that case! When they opened their door to take their food, they stood near it. We could see each other and could even exchange a few words from afar. “How are you? I’m fine!” But the door would have to be shut since the sepoys would lose their jobs if their superiors found them talking to me. Mustafa Sarwar’s brother has been arrested in a case filed against them in Narayanganj. He is an examinee and had already sat for two B.A. examination papers. His next exam is on the 4″”. His nick name is Hasu and I call him by that name. All of a sudden the news came that he had got bail and would be leaving right away. He would have to pass by my room as he left the prison. I remained standing. He was crossing us. I said to him, “Concentrate on studying before you take the exams. Please tell my wife that she shouldn’t reply to the income tax notice without talking to me. Phone her.”
Two other examinees would have to stay back though. One of them, Khawaja Mohiuddin, had been permitted to sit for the

exams but the other one was shattered because he had been denied permission. What could I do in this case? What is there to write about those who lack humanity?
2nd July 1966 1 Saturday Today is Miladunnabi, the birthday of the Prophet. Prisoners get the day off. It is a holiday for top officials of the prison too. Prisoners don’t have to be all worked up today as they tend to be on days they’ve advance notice that the bigwigs would be coming. I began weeding my flower garden with the help of a few other people. I saw Jamadar Sahib taking Mizan to the hospital-he needed to be examined for a toothache. I saw someone who belongs to our party after a long time. We stay in the same jail. The distance between our cells is at most 200 yards. He is in Cell 10; his cell is separated from mine by a 24 feet high wall. My room borders the wall but his is a little farther away. In between there is only a cow shed. And yet we can’t get to see each other! What else can we do except greet each other from afar?
Today I read Mr. Ayub’s “first day of the month speech”. The President declared in it apropos the recent disturbances in East Pakistan that ‘there is a class of people in East Pakistan who have been playing with the sentiments of the people in a bid to foment trouble there. Using the excuse of self-rule in the region, they tried to launch a program that would have led to spreading hatred and contempt between people of different parts of the country. The government had been observing these developments patiently. However, once their activities had crossed all limits, the government was forced to adopt tough measures against them.
He also said that “the situation in East Pakistan is calm now and the people have been saved from pursuing the wrong path.” He thanked God for this happening.
The President said, “There is no need for me to emphasize that the people of East and West Pakistan will always remain indivisible. People of both wings of the country subscribe to the same beliefs, vows and future; in such a situation there could be

no question of any separation taking place between them.” He also said many other things pertaining to the state of affairs of the country.
Mr. President has made a mistaken assumption at the very outset though. The program he refers to does not say anything about the separation of East and West Pakistan. The demand for self-rule is not a new one and it is mentioned clearly in the Lahore resolution that forms the basis of the creation of Pakistan. But he paid no heed to it at all. And the group of people he talks about strove to create Pakistan and made sacrifices for it. On the other hand, the people with whom he is running the administration now not only didn’t participate in the Pakistan movement, but opposed it to please the British. If he didn’t have the time till now to read the history, I’d like to acquaint him with some bits of history on the formation of the two states of India and Pakistan. No one has the slightest doubt that East and West Pakistan are indivisible. But the people of East Pakistan want financial and political independence and would like to come out of the clutches of the West Pakistani ruling class, since with the help of their treacherous lackeys they have been exploiting East Pakistan for 19 years now to such an extent that there is no way out for the people of East Pakistan to free themselves from this bondage except to wage a peaceful struggle against them. Whenever the subject of East Pakistan’s demands and needs comes up, everyone talks about this as the only option to adopt. But those who know their history are aware that although peaceful movements can be suppressed for a time, in the long run they will break out. If Pakistan’s rulers try to suppress East Pakistan’s demand for self-rule, the outcome will be fatal for the nation.
Whenever Indian Muslims demanded their rights, the Hindu upper caste that dominated Congress had opposed them saying, “Muslims don’t want independence.” Muslims had demanded a federal form of government but Congress continued to press for a centralized government. Muslims were in the majority in Bangladesh, Sindh, and the Northwest

Frontier Province. Since the Muslims could rule as the majority in these provinces, they demanded a federal form of government for India.
When Maulana Hazrat Mohani was the President of the Muslim League in 1921, he had declared: “The fear of Hindu majority can be removed if an India Republic were established on a federal basis, similar to that of the United States of America.” If there was a United States of India, then in those provinces where the Muslims were in the majority, Muslims would rule. But Congress didn’t agree to this option even though in that year there was a sustained effort to establish permanent peace between Hindus and Muslims.
In the 1924 Muslim League conference in Lahore presided over by Mr. Jinnah, a resolution was moved on behalf of the Muslims that “envisaged that the existing provinces shall be united under a common government on a federal basis so that each province shall have full and complete provincial autonomy, the functions of the central government being confined to such matters only as are of general and common concern.” But Congress didn’t agree to this proposal either. In an all-party conference held in 1928, Moti Lal Nehru was given the responsibility of submitting a report that would help resolve the problem of the Hindu-Muslim divide. Unfortunately, his report only aggravated the division between the two communities.
After this event, an all-party conference was held in Kolkata where discussions were held on the Nehru report and on its adoption. Mr. Jinnah then submitted some amendments to it and cited the constitutions of different countries of the world in it. But unfortunately not even one of his amendments was accepted. He came out of the conference with tears in his eyes. Mr. Jinnah used to be called an “ambassador” of Hindu-Muslim unity. Subsequently, the in-fighting between Muslims came to an end. Sir Mohamed Shati and Mr. Jinnah joined hands and convened an all-India Muslim conference in Delhi in 1928. They submitted their old proposal of a federal government and
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submitted a charter on Muslim demands for the future which was accepted. They then adopted a proposal for full self-rule. It was then that Jinnah Sahib’s “Fourteen Points” was published. Among other things, “it pointed out that no constitution would be acceptable to the Muslims unless and until it was based on federal principles with residuary powers vested in the provinces.”
Sir Shafi came up with the same demand on behalf of Muslims in the Round Table Conference held in England in 1930-31. Maulana Mohamed Ali, in a letter to Ramsey Macdonald, the Prime Minister of England of that time, wrote that only a federal structure is acceptable to Muslims, and in it provinces will have full autonomy.”
In 1937, Muslims in some Congress-run provinces were not treated well. Discussions were held so that a coalition ministry consisting of the Muslim League and the Congress could be formed in these provinces. But in the end Congress did not agree to this move. Subsequently, the Muslim League adopted the Lahore resolution in 1940. It was as a result of this resolution that the India became divided into two countries.
Those who would like to dismiss the “Six Point Program”, or the movement for self-rule as a ploy to separate East Pakistan from West Pakistan at this time, and intend to foil that movement through oppressive measures, are making a huge mistake. The “Six Points Program” is what the people have been demanding; it is a demand that is a matter of life or death for East Pakistan. It cannot be suppressed forcibly. Attempts to suppress it will be bad for the country. Our ruling class is going to make the mistake that Congress had made by not accepting the demand for self-rule and a federal constitution. By the time they come to realize that they are making a mistake there will be no more time left. We believe in the indivisibility of Pakistan and want our demands to be fulfilled as well. We would also want others to have what they are demanding. We don’t want to survive as a colony or a market. As citizens we want equal rights.

3-4 July 1966 1 Sunday After it rained in the morning the day turned out to be a good one. The sun was shining. I needed to put the bedding out in the sun and I did that. Instructions have been issued to let Manik Bhai have an electric fan. The poor chap will be able to sleep better now. Manik Bhai has the ability to go through hardship. I know that he is ready to endure any kind of suffering. But he isn’t well; he has had to face all kinds of hardship in life already. If he becomes really ill at this stage of his life he won’t be able to recover again. This was in my thoughts. I have talked about Cell 10 already; that is where he is being kept with my other colleagues so that he can have a hard time!
The newspapers won’t be delivered this day. Their offices have been closed because of Miladunabi which is the Prophet’s birthday. It will be tough to spend the day here. I am all by myself; the newspapers and the books are my companions. I immerse myself in them. I took some old issues of Ittefaq and began reading them one by one.
The fish the jail authorities sent for me is inedible. I sent it back. I asked for whatever I had with me here to be cooked. After managing to eat the dishes somehow, I sat down with a book. In afternoons I struggle to stay awake. When I felt sleepy while reading I went outside for a short walk. I then came across the Jute Mill Federation’s Secretary, Abdul Mannan, just as he was being taken away. I was told that he was being taken to the jail gate to fetch the supplies brought from the bazaar. Whenever I sit under the trees the crow maharajahs do their thing until I find myself covered with their droppings from head to toe. The jail crows seem to be particularly nasty in this manner. A few days ago I had a bow made. I call it my “gun”. I targeted the crows with pellets made out of brick chips until they had to flee. However, they were soon back. But I spend some of my time thus— by driving out crows!
When I went out for a walk in the afternoon I saw Abdul Halim, a NAP activist from Dhaka, being taken to the hospital, He has been suffering from fever for two days now. Halim and
four others are interned in new Cell 20 of Block 1. Although they live very close by, there is no way that I can meet or talk to them. Their door opens the other way. I moved towards him and put my hand on his forehead to find out if he had fever-he had a high temperature! I said, “Halim, No matter which party you belong to, it has to be said that you have contributed to the movement for democracy in East Pakistan. In 1949 you were with me in the Awami League and made a lot of sacrifices then. If you want anything, let me know; don’t hesitate. I respect you for the sacrifices you’ve made.” He went to the hospital. I said goodbye to him and prayed silently for his recovery.
A Jamadar sahib has been assigned to duty where I am. I heard from a sepoy that this Jamadar sahib has one of his sons studying for the M.Sc. degree. He will sit for the exam later this year. I called him and said, “You are doing the right thing; that you are educating your son despite the little pay you get is something for which you deserve a lot of credit.” He said “Sir, my son is a good boy; he earns some money by tutoring and not only meets his expenses thus but is also able to help me financially.” I was delighted to hear him say this.
The sun set and I returned to my ‘nest’. The last two or three days I’ve been waking up three or four times at night. I have all sorts of bad dreams. I am not well; piles and gastric problems are plaguing me. 4th July 1966 I Monday I woke up in the middle of the night and saw that it was 2:30 am. I sat up and lighted my pipe. I began puffing it intently. How can one even think of sitting outside a mosquito net here? Swarms of mosquitoes will then attack you in pincermovements. But jail mosquitoes have this one virtue: they sting and suck one’s blood quietly. Not one day did I hear them droning. They don’t know how to be noisy. Just like prisoners, who must endure torture, get roughed up, be shackled, have a rod inserted between their legs, and wear handcuffs without protesting or even talking about the abuse they have had to bear,

they have to suffer everything silently. That must be why the swarm of mosquitoes must insert their stings and suck blood so silently, leaving according to their own sweet will so as to make their big bosses happy! How much blood must they suck thus in this prison house? No matter how many mosquitoes infest this place, prisoners won’t be given mosquito nets. I imagine that of the three thousand prisoners here only two hundred of them have these nets. Only prisoners of the state and those awarded division have mosquito nets. When I had first come there, there weren’t so many mosquitoes around.
I am told that last night 61 bidi workers were arrested and hauled in as prisoners. I have no idea what wrong they have committed. They have every right to live. They’ve stopped importing bidi leaves. As a result 3 to 4 lakh workers have become unemployed. They, as well as all the members of their families, have to go hungry. The government banned bidi leaves but did not think of the unemployment that the ban would lead to. It’s as if the government has no responsibility in this regard. And now they’ve have been arresting them as well. Surely those who won’t take the responsibility of providing jobs shouldn’t be allowed to make any one lose his job. They keep coming up with such oppressive policies. When workers like them came forward with their demands in Sirajganj, the Governor had them beaten with bamboo sticks and tear-gassed instead of providing them with food. Such workers are being arrested all the time. They have begun arresting workers from home after home and have been throwing them into prison.
It seems to me that it would be best to declare the whole of Pakistan, especially East Pakistan, a prison! It’s the government’s responsibility to provide food and clothing to everyone interned in a prison. If the entire country is declared a jail, and the government takes responsibility for all its citizens, and provides food and shelter to everyone, then all its problems will cease! Then a baby won’t have to die a slow death before its mother’s eyes because of lack of food. The more you torture people though, the stronger the people’s movement will become! When

oppression has gone to the extreme point, the people’s movement will peak too. I am happy at what is going on. When representatives of the Federal Journalist Union and a few editorpublishers met the West Pakistan governor Nawab Kalabagh at his invitation, he said to them that if the strike on the 5th of July was withdrawn, he would try to come up with a satisfactory solution to the problems created by the arrest of Mr. Tofazzal Hossain and the confiscation of the New Nation Printing Press. He will also discuss this with the people at the top. That is why journalists have postponed their strike till the 20 of July.
I believe that something or the other is bound to happen soon since I know the Nawab of Kalabagh. well. Though we don’t share the same views, I know that he is the type who tries to live up to his promises. The Nawab Sahib and I had been members of the same parliament for almost three and a half years. Unlike the Governor of East Bengal, he is not the kind of man who makes false promises.
I will be given the Dawn newspaper from today. I will get it a day late though. However, I shouldn’t complain; I am fortunate to have it delivered to me here. Given the nature of the man who is controlling them now, it’s difficult to predict how far the people of East Pakistan will have to go because of him. At half past four Deputy Jailer Sahib showed up. He said to me, “How are you doing?” He then called the Jamadar and said something or the other to him. Immediately afterwards the whistles started to blow. The jail bell began clanging. Everyone started to run helter-skelter. Prisoners went to their own cells. The locks were inserted. Accompanied by his armed men, Mr. Sergeant entered the cell area where I am interned. There were gunshots-blank ones. Half an hour later, the bell stopped ringing: everything was OK. This was the monthly jail drill. It is enacted once every month to intimidate all the prisoners. But we have been intimidated enough by this time. And so why do you need to do this as well?
Jailer Sahib came. I said to him, “The ordinary prisoners of your jail are being persecuted; they aren’t being fed properly. I
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hope you will look into the matter. You are the one who is going to earn notoriety. And people will heap curses on you.” I know that Jailer Sahib himself won’t persecute prisoners.
5″ July 1966 1 Tuesday The Jamadars and sepoys would like to have puffed rice. Jail inmates don’t even get to see puffed rice. I told the mate, “Make a snack for them with puffed rice, green chills and onions.” I had given him the recipe previously and had shown him how to make the snack. I know a bit about its preparation. I told him to also have it made for the ordinary prisoners who work here for me. I told the cook to offer some to the prisoners in the neighboring cell who are serving out their sentences. After I had the puffed rice snack, I began reading the Dawn newspaper. They cover a lot of the happenings in West Pakistan.
It has begun raining hard here and the rain just won’t stop. I had sent the mosquito net to the laundry man in the morning because the sun was up and the sky was clear then. What was to be done now though? I guess I’ll have to put up with the raids of the mosquito army without complaining! Mr. Moneim Khan has been threatening people yet again. Beware! No one should write or speak truthfully. The price of rice hasn’t gone up that much-it has gone up a little but there is no reason to be worked up about the rise. Many of the sepoys here have come back to work after going to their homes for a holiday. They tell me that the price of rice has gone up by anywhere between 50 and 60 taka a maund. Why try so hard to suppress the truth? How is it harming your government? You have a lot of rice in your godowns and so why must you worry? Release it in the open market or establish a rationing system for villages. Stop collecting taxes. Distribute some rice amongst the poor free of cost and there won’t be any trouble. People perhaps won’t be so afraid then.
He has been threatening the newspapers. But in all probability he won’t be able to intimidate them anymore. Luxuriant growth makes a plant vulnerable to stormy weather. Your days are numbered. Make use of this opportunity to build a

house for yourself in West Pakistan. That will benefit you; otherwise, you’ll have to face a lot of problems in future.
Today a jail employee told me about corrupt jail practices. Some days ago two wealthy men had been hauled in. They hadn’t been given any division. One was older than the other. And so where could the man go? When the poor man was ordered to fetch water he started to cry. But a fixer among the prisoners went to him and said: “If you can give me some money I’ll see to it that you have other kind of work. You won’t have a tough time then; you’ll be able to lounge and read, or arrangements can be made to put you in the hospital.” Like a fool the poor chap said, “Where would I get the money in a jail?” Then the fixer conned him by saying, “I’ll bring you a piece of paper; what you’ll have to do is write down the name of the man in it mentioning the name of the person to whom the money would have to be given. When the bearer of the note meets that person he will have to be paid; otherwise you are going to be a goner!” Those who have money fix it somehow and those who can’t have any must sell something or the other to raise the sum any which way they can! But once you give these people money there will be no way out for you! The fixer took the money and the man who gave it was left in peace for some time. But after a while they resumed persecuting him.
The jail employee who told me this story is a good man though; he doesn’t take this route to make money. He told me many such stories. I know of many such stories myself. This is because the prison is my old companion. In district jails even poor prisoners have to come up with money. The history of such ways of making money in jail is a long one and writing about such things can be depressing. But there also many good men among the sepoys and jamadars; without such men the life of a prisoner in jail would be unbearable. Sometimes these employees will purchase things for prisoners with money from the meager salaries that they receive. And not only will such employees help the prisoners thus they will even treat them affectionately. When the rain stopped in the evening I went out of my room. I took my “bow” along to take care of the crows if
they proved to be bothersome. I spent the day chasing them away as well as reading the newspaper.
6th July 1966 1 Wednesday When I sat down for breakfast I noticed that they had given me only two slices of flat bread. I said to them, “I don’t feel like eating for I had tea in the morning.” But would the mate listen to me? I would have to eat something or the other. I then had a piece of bread and a “prison banana.” One might wonder what I mean by a “prison banana”. The contractor supplies the smallest banana available in the bazaar to the prison. This is what they provide for prisoners. They consider any objections to such supplies as irrelevant because they think the people protesting are not worth anything.
I sat down with yesterday’s newspaper. The mate showed up once again and said, “Won’t you have anything else? How will you manage with so little?” I said, “Do forgive me son. You are overwhelming me! You want me to eat and eat!” After a while some puffed rice snack was sent to me. Of the two boys taking their exams in prison one has been having high fever from early morning and has had a running stomach since morning. I was told that coconut water would help. I had a coconut with me and so I sent it for the boy. I also told them to inform the physician. He came and prescribed some medicine. The poor boy started to feel a bit better and went off to sit for his exam. I wished him luck with his examination.
The newspaper came. I read in it that the People’s Congress in Indonesia had removed Soekarno from the position of President for life. But he would be staying on as the President until the next election. The biggest and most prominent of the countries of Southeast Asia had banned Communism, Leninism, and Marxism! President Soekarno has given his consent to the resolution adopted by the People’s Congress. Indonesia has been forced to take such a decision because the Indonesian Communist Party and China had been guilty of overplaying

their cards. Things took such an unfortunate turn because the party and China tried to grab power.
Hundreds of thousands of communists had to sacrifice their lives in the process. They have to endure arrests and torture now. Dictators of the world should keep their eyes open and take note. It would seem that Soekarno is being kept on as President as a symbolic gesture. He has no real power. He has had to eat his own words. The country has been forced on this day to become a member of the United Nations, the World Bank and other organizations. The economy of Indonesia is in ruins at this time. I think Indonesia is going to be in the clutches of imperialism once again.
When I saw the Security Jamadar Sahib come while I was having tea in the evening I thought for a moment he was coming to tell me that my wife had come on a visit. She hadn’t been able to come the last time because she was unwell then.
He said, “Let’s go-your wife is here!” Would I waste a minute after this? I put on my Punjabi as quickly as I could and started walking towards the jail gate. The old scene was reenacted again! Russel was at the window in Hasina’s lap. The moment he saw me he said, “Daddy!” in his own way. As soon as I came close to him he was up in my lap. He then listed those in the house who had hit him. He also showed how rabbits die and how they can keep standing up. I said to Renu, “You must have suffered a lot from the fever. How are you now?” She said, “My foot is still aching. But the fever is gone.” I said, “You must not catch cold.”
All four of my children had come here after school. The two boys had gone home from there. One of the girls had come directly from college and the other likewise from school. The younger one kept standing on the road, eagerly waiting for me to show up at the gate.
In the room we talked about the children’s studies, my parents and news about my brothers and sisters. My mother doesn’t want to come to Dhaka. The reason is that it would be hard for her to come all the way since she was unwell. My father is an old man now. He has stayed back in our family home. He is
the one who would find the journey the most trying. He stays by himself. Today we talked for a long time. All of us in the prison are family men and so how can we bear staying here all by ourselves? The children would like to see where I stay. I said to them, “Grow up and be someone important and you will get to see where I have been kept then.”
It was time, “I would have to let them go!” as in the famous Tagore poem. I went back to my cell. They had brought a pack of Horlicks and some mangoes for me. I said to my wife, “Why bother to bring them for me? Do buy some for the children.”
It was getting to be dark. I said goodbye to them and returned to my spot. I said to myself, “Why worry about me? You must try to be happy. The path I have chosen is one of hardship.”
7th July 1966 1 Thursday A prisoner is locked up in the second floor of Cell 20. This is known as ‘the cage’. Not only is it a cell but its front part is netted. I got a glimpse of him one day. The stairway to the second floor is by my cell. I have no doubt that he must have looked very handsome at one time. By now he had spent 17 years in jail. Even those who serve life terms don’t have to stay in jail for more than 12/13 years. Why has he been kept here for 17 years? When I inquired I found out that when the Awami League was in power the Minister of Prisons had come to the jail on an inspection visit. The man’s name was Nisar Khan. He had been interned in Cell 8 so that he couldn’t complain to the minister about the corruption here. This was because he was a courageous man; he would speak the truth to one’s face. When the minister went by his cell, Nisar Khan climbed up the wall and yelled to him “Sir, I have a complaint.” The minister inquired then, “Who is this man?” They told him that he was a madman. When the minister left, the inevitable happened. The big boss of that time issued instructions to keep him locked up in Cell 40. It was broadcast that he had become mad. A lunatic doesn’t have to be interned for a fixed period. He can’t be released till the civil surgeon issues a certificate to the government informing it that he had become sane again. He had been labeled crazy all this time although he really wasn’t insane. But
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if someone is kept in this state even a sane man will become insane. When the new civil surgeon came he declared that he was not crazy and wrote to the government for his release. In all probability he would be released soon. I felt badly about this situation. He was tortured thus even when we were in the government. The poor man is still suffering. I had come to this jail thrice by this time. Nobody told me anything about this case. But even if they did, what could I have done? The people in charge of prisons are not letting him go. The jail administration isn’t empowered to release a mad man. People can be so cruel! The man who had been promoted while we were in power is behind this mean decision.
About eleven o’clock the DIG Maulana Obaidullah came on an inspection of the cell areas. Whenever he comes to where I stay he sits down for a few minutes with me; today he stayed for a much longer time. He talked about Hadith Sharif He said, “Khan-e-Dazzal, Imam Mehedi will make his appearance soon. Prophet Isa will also make an appearance again. Yazzaz Mazuz will show up too. The world will be more or less destroyed.” He said a lot of other such things. I for my part had a few questions to ask him. He said, “Hard to say what condition the world will be 1400 years after the birth of Prophet Mohammad.” When he was about to get up, I said to him, “Khan-e-Dazzal is here in this world already; but what about Imam Mahedi?” He understood who I was gesturing towards. He smiled and left then without saying anything more.
I concentrated on my work. I let it be known that I needed another cup of tea. The tea and some puffed rice arrived. As always, I took care of the puffed rice and then sat down with a book.
I wondered, “Do people believe in such fantastic things even now?” But do they have a choice in the matter? There is always the fear of being beaten up. In any case, “What faith affirms is far removed from reason and logic!”
8th July 1966 I Friday I was out for a morning walk when all of a sudden I saw Mr. Shahabuddin Choudhury looking at me. He gestured with his
hand to indicate that I should stay exactly where I was and then suddenly went inside. A few prisoners came out carrying three boys in their laps. One of them had a hand cut off and another had a bullet wound in his chest. The other couldn’t walk at all and had to be carried all the way. They were bringing them from some hospital outside the prison. They had been beaten up, tortured, shot and wounded before being brought to the jail as prisoners. Their lives have been ruined. And then they were made prisoners and hauled into jail. How cruel can this world be? I am ashamed of doing anything for such a world. These very people are our brothers and uncles! If the rights of the people of East Bengal are realized it is their progeny that will benefit. No one is going to enjoy his rights by depriving any of these people. Those who have died and those who have been maimed and brought to jail will have to suffer all their lives for what they have done on our behalf. Why must they be so cruel? Why must they torture others so? How long will they keep persecuting people? It took me a while to compose myself. It occurred to me that it wasn’t right to be forgiving all the time. True, to forgive is a mark of greatness, but to forgive the oppressor is also a mark of weakness. Islam has it right when it says, “It is a good thing to be able to forgive but if you can’t, let there be no objections to taking a hand for a hand and an eye for an eye.”
Another young man has been transferred from Cell 27 to old Cell 20. He is studying for his matriculation examination. He is from Narayanganj’s Chashara. He had got head injuries. After he had been hauled in he had been beaten up black and blue. Many come to prison with such wounds and bruises. Khawaja Mohiuddin showed me the boy’s back; it still bore the scars of the beatings. He had been beaten up after he had been detained. I am told that it wasn’t EPR personnel who beat them up so. They had berated the Bengal Police for firing needlessly in front of the public. Many people were still in custody. People were still being arrested for the case filed in Narayanganj. Most of the people arrested thus were youths. What can I say about the extreme hardship that they have to
undergo? I simply lack the words to do so! They had only one set of clothes on them when they were hauled in. Day after day they continue to wear this one set.
In the evening a sepoy said to me, “Sir, may I say something about the country? A few days ago a woman from Faridpur has sold a 13 day old baby to one of my friends for 10 taka. She wanted to give him the baby for nothing but my friend gave her ten taka for it. Without saying anything else she then left, holding the hand of her little girl before she left. She had almost nothing to say then. The only thing she could say was, “All I want is to see the boy from time to time so that I know he is well.” She added that in many villages no leaves are left on kachu plants and trees. I said, “This is symptomatic of Ayub Khan’s development program. In Moneim Khan’s words, there will be no shortage of rice; the godowns are well-stocked.” How can a country where mothers sell their children because of hunger and where women trade their honor to fill their stomach be seen as a free and civilized one? What can I say about those who take pride in the increase of the national wealth on the basis of the assets of a handful of people?
The Bengali race is so meek that it would rather die of starvation than grab a morsel of food. It will be a mistake to think that it will eat any better in future. Lying down silently in bed, I began to think about our villages and slums. There was once so much happiness in villages, so much music, and sports using lachis, and feasts on festive and religious occasions. Now villages have nothing left. It would seem that death’s cruel shadow has been engulfing our villages gradually. Driven out by want and burning with sorrow, the inhabitants of our villages have been migrating to cities. As I lay down in bed, so many memories of childhood came to my mind. After all, I am a product of village life; I love the village.
9th July 1966 I Saturday Americans have bombed Hanoi and Haiphong in Vietnam once again. The opposition has tabled an “adjournment motion against the bombings in Hanoi and Haying in the National
Assembly. The speaker disallowed it on the grounds that it would not be proper to discuss the internal affairs of another country. But surely world peace is a fit subject for discussion in the assembly. But this is typical of the kind of “neutral” foreign policy Pakistan is pursuing!
The Minister for Law, Mr. Jafar, says that the government is concerned. Great sentiments! I was happy because this adjournment motion had been brought in. Whenever the world’s imperialist forces have carried out repressive policies, the Awami League has protested against them; it has also been resisting the lackeys of imperialism working within our country. For a long time now, China has been content to warn others. When will it come to the aid of the oppressed? Perhaps only when the Vietnamese people die of bullet wounds inflicted on them indiscriminately and mercilessly will they find an occasion to intervene. Till the imperialist forces have been driven out of Southeast Asia its people won’t be able to live in peace. Many of America’s progressive people are protesting fiercely against such atrocities at this time. Even in the distant land of America there have been stormy protests. And yet high officials of the Johnson administration seem not to see what is going on!
In our own country of Pakistan the central government has stopped placing ads in three newspapers. One is Sangbad, an East Pakistani newspaper. The other two, Naw-i-Wakt and Kohistan, are from West Pakistan. By hook or by crook the government is making almost all newspapers of the country support it. It is pursuing a policy of throttling the handful of newspapers that are still trying to remain neutral and project the demands of the people. Ittefag printing press has already been confiscated. Of the Dhaka newspapers, Morning News, Dainik Pakistan, Paigam, and Pasban support the administration. The first two of these belong to the Press Trust. Ittefaq is under lockup. Sangbad is close to dying because of lack of advertisements. The Pakistan Observer pursues a policy of “be what you can be and keep lamenting.” Who knows when it will be targeted!
In short, no opposition newspaper will be allowed to remain in Bangladesh. These developments are indicative of the direction in which the government is going. It would be better to try and have a one-party state. What is the point of such repressive and tyrannical policies? Those who can will resort to clandestine politics. And those who can’t will quietly carry out domestic chores. These people are ruining the country. The results will be catastrophic.
From the morning I got down to the business of cutting grass. A grass mower has been brought in. But it is difficult to cut the newly sprouted grass with it. As I supervised them, the prisoners keep cutting the grass. I made the cleaners do the cleaning up afterwards. I felt good after having spent the day working thus. I read the newspaper in the afternoon and then did the same work in the evening till I had made the garden look beautiful. Later, when the grass will sprout again the garden will look even more beautiful.
10th July 1966 1 Sunday Next to where I stay in Block 2 of new Cell number 20 a musical event had been organized on Sunday. Nuru is a good singer. I sat on my easy chair happily, ready to enjoy the singing. There is another prisoner in the jail called Bilal. He is from Dhaka city and sings gazal and kawali well. He is the guard of the flower garden; he’ll come to work in my garden today. He showed up at 9:00 O’clock. He sang some kawalis for me. They use aluminum plates as their tablas; they drum with these plates. Bilal’s voice has become a little hoarse from singing kawalis. He is allowed to perform everywhere. And so wherever he goes, the sepoys and jamadars make him sing kawalis. I listened to Nuru’s Bengali songs. He has a very beautiful voice. He sings in perfect rhythm. I thought that the poor fellow has wasted his life. He has had to endure a lot of physical abuse in jail and suffer jail food as well and yet he has somehow managed to preserve his singing voice. It is something to be grateful for. I realize that singing is difficult
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for him. If you don’t possess the strength where will the songs come from! Nevertheless, I felt good listening to him sing. He is particularly good in singings folk songs.
Belal said as he left, “Sir. I’ve just become a watchman. Do you think I’ll survive if they come to know that I come here and sang kawalis for you?” Would I able to protect him in such a situation? I am perceived as much more of a threat by them! No one is supposed to talk to me or socialize with me. This is the government’s standing order. I probably got this one chance to listen to his kawalis only because he came to work in the garden.
Good news for Mr. Ayub’s government, although it’s hard to tell if it’s good for the people of the country or not! A consortium has pledged to provide a 550 million dollar grant to Pakistan for 1966-67. It must be kept in mind that this entire amount has been loaned. We’ve no idea how much of it is fated to come to East Pakistan, but it will be East Pakistan that will have to pay the principal plus the interest accruing from the loan.
Autonomy in Dhaka and Rajshahi Universities is over. In future they’ll be able to wield batons freely there. Who knows what the outcome will be! In all probability, the educated section of society is all shook up. No worries; throw your pen away; learn to wield lathi sticks and knives! And buy some oil so that you can show up at daytime or night ready to use it whenever necessary. No more studies! You’ll get promoted; you’ll even become ministers. All I can think is, ‘What’s happening?” Where are we heading?
11th July 1966 I Monday My head had felt very heavy since morning and I hadn’t been able to sit down comfortably. I had spent a lot of time thus in the verandah. I had sat down on the easy chair and shut my eyes. I didn’t feel like eating anything. At around 11 a doctor showed up; I told him how I felt. He said he would have to check my blood pressure. I’ve never had blood pressure. But I would find out now if things had changed. This is a nagging sort of malady

that can be quite a bother! If something is to happen to me it should be a pretty decisive thing!
It feels good to have my eyes shut. The mate keeps urging me to eat something. I ate something in the morning already and so why bother? I lost my cool all of a sudden. Later, I felt repentant for being angry with him. I said to him, “I don’t feel like eating anything.” Thanks to my wife’s bounty, I really don’t need anything much; she keeps sending me biscuits, Horlicks, mangoes, and even preserved fruits. I don’t have any appetite. Moreover, I’m afraid of upset stomachs. I had lost blood once again a few days back. My piles problem had been cured but has come back. What can I do? I’m not the only prisoner to have ailments; almost all the inmates suffer from one ailment or the other. The political prisoners are particularly vulnerable since they do nothing. Eat, lie down and suffer indigestion; that’s all! Eventually one disease after another will invade your body; that is exactly what the government wants. Let his health be ruined! Let him become lazy! Once outside, he’ll be unable to do good work anymore.
I met Pabna’s Ranesh Maitra all of a sudden today. He has been brought here from Pabna to sit for his law examination. He’ll go back from here in a day or two. I said, “How are the children doing?” He said, “What is there to say? They’ll probably die of starvation. My wife has a matriculation certificate. She could make ends meet if she had some kind of a job, but what is there to be done? Not only were we destined to be Hindus but I’m also a political prisoner now; nobody will come up with a job offer for her. We’ve a baby. Friends will help from time to time and she has to make do with that. There is no way they can stay in our village home anymore.” Maitra had a smile on his face as he spoke. But it seemed to me that this was a pained smile!
When his front door was still open a bit in the evening as the doors were being locked, I met him again. I said, “Perhaps you’re headed for Pubna. My friend Mushtaq is probably in the prison there. I’ve no idea how he is doing. But do tell him about me.” The door was soon shut. We talked for no more than two or three minutes. Although we political prisoners are interned in the same
jail we can’t get to see or talk to each other much. No one is allowed to talk to me. It was late in the day when the newspaper was delivered. There is no real news. But Mr. Ataur Rahman has issued a statement on the food problem; he has protested against what Mr. Moneim Khan and a government press release had to say. But you can’t make the price of rice come down by issuing a statement from your home. There is need for an action plan. These “honorable” politicians don’t have the courage for something like that. Some of our politicians want to become leaders by only issuing statements and making speeches!
12″ July 1966 1 Tuesday I don’t feel well at all; I have no idea what I should do! Don’t have as many headaches though. There is nothing worth reading in the newspapers anymore. It’s the same boring news. What President Ayub is saying, what he’ll do next, where he’ll go, who he had met, the country’s progress, its developmental activities, how the godowns were well-stocked with food grains, how there were no signs of scarcity, what mega projects had been undertaken, the progress of work that had begun, etc., etc. Some so-called Muslim League leaders were shouting themselves hoarse all the time about one faith, one state, “we’re all Muslims”, one country, and one leader, absolutely indivisible! And some of them were bursting with praise about the loyalty of Bengali Muslims as far as Pakistan was concerned. Still others were issuing certificates of patriotism with the assurance of know-it-all patriots. Apparently admiration for Pakistan all over the world is now reaching the heavens! All sorts of hollow praise but one has to keep reading them. Time just won’t pass. I took a look at Dawn to see if the newspaper had any good news about West Pakistan. Not at all! The same drivel. It seems to me that the government is working to a big plan. Its ultimate aim is to create a one-party government in the country. But that will be a huge mistake. There will be such internal strife and anarchy then that no one will be able to control things anymore. Politicians like us will be left far behind. After all, we won’t be able to march in step with the others then!

I tried to sleep in the afternoon. This is because I didn’t want another headache. I must have slept for a while; perhaps for half an hour or so. When I had got up and was reading the newspaper again a security sepoy came and said, “Someone to see you; let’s go!” I said, “Who?” But he couldn’t say. I thought: must be my lawyers, Advocates Rab and Abul Hossain Sahib. While I was talking to them I saw that I had been scheduled for another visit from my wife.
I told Mr. Rab to file a writ petition in the High Court—why are Mushtaque, Nurul Islam, Tajuddin, and other leaders of our party being held in solitary confinement in district jails? And under which law am I being kept in solitary confinement? According to jail regulations, no one can be kept in solitary confinement for more than two months. It’s not right to confine someone in one spot all by himself. Mr. Rab said that he would submit a writ petition after consulting the relevant laws.
Next to come were my wife and children. How could they have been granted permission to see me all of a sudden? Mr. Rab left. I talked to the children for a while. My dad had taken my mom from Khulna to our village home. She was much better now but wouldn’t be visiting Dhaka anytime soon. Renu said, “Kamal has been studying seriously. He’ll be sitting for his matriculation examination the next year.” I told the children to concentrate on their studies and then bade them goodbye. There is not much time for talking during such visits; the jail visiting room is small and the electric fan there wasn’t working. My little boy was having a tough time coping with the intense heat. My younger daughter had come straight from school. When they took leave and were on their way I stood in the gate to bid them goodbye. As he crossed the jail gate, Russell raised his hands to say goodbye to me. Perhaps he knew by now that this was his dad’s house and he would have to stay here all his life!
They had brought a lot of food. In the evening I gave some to my friends and acquaintances here. During dinnertime I distributed some more food to others around me so that the food didn’t go waste. At night I woke up after dreaming of my dad. It seemed that

he had become worn out. I could get back to sleep only when it was early morning. I dreamt this time about Nawabzada Nasrullah Khan. He appeared to have aged a lot and his beard had become grey. I could remember nothing more about what I had dreamt. I was late in getting up from sleep afterwards.
13″ July 1966 I Wednesday The same problem and the same solution: shoot to kill! In India eight demonstrators had been shot dead. A few hundred people had been arrested. People protesting against the rise in prices of items needed for everyday living in response to strikes called by leftist parties had to sacrifice their lives to bullets. Hundreds of political activists had been arrested. Congress leaders themselves had spent a lifetime in prison. They had to endure bullet wounds there, but now that they had achieved freedom, these same leaders were not a bit sparing as far as shooting their own people were concerned. Our two countries are placed next to each another and we seem to be outdoing each other in acts of repression and police brutality. But these problems cannot be solved by shooting people or arresting them. India should have recognized the right of the people of Kashmir to determine their own fates through a plebiscite that could lead to a treaty securing permanent peace between the two countries. Instead of spending money on their defense establishments, the two countries would have then been able to utilize their resources for economic development. People of both countries would also have been beneficiaries of such a policy. Since India fancies itself as a country that worships at the shrine of democracy, why does it object to accepting the views of the people of Kashmir? Such policies will one day lead to catastrophic situations for both countries.
Russia has adopted a policy of providing military assistance to North Vietnam. They had already been providing them with a lot of assistance. No matter how powerful the Americans think they are, now that Russia has begun assisting the Hanoi government militarily, they will never succeed in winning the battle there. The consequences will be disastrous. The only solution is for all
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foreigners to leave Vietnam. The people of Vietnam will then be able to choose the path that they would like to tread.
On August 25 Mr. Shoeb took leave from his job at the central government to accept a position at the World Bank. Even Mr. Shoeb has had to leave the government! The Chinese lobby is very unhappy because Mr. Bhutto had been shown the door. Surely, he was thrown out because of American pressure. By removing Mr. Shoeb, President Ayub has shown that he doesn’t care much for the Americans either. That is why he had Mr. Shoeb, the leader of the American lobby, removed. But he must have made the move after having consulted Mr. Shoeb himself; it’s all part of a ploy to hoodwink the people of Pakistan. He has been sent to the right place; he is now an Advisor of the World Bank! They appeared to have carried out negotiations for the position beforehand. He is an American agent through and through. Since he had mortgaged Pakistan to the Americans he was destined for a reward from them!
In the morning I learned that Mr. Mannan, the Secretary of the Jute Mills Labor Federation, has been granted bail. He will be let off today. He used to be in Cell 20 which is opposite my cell. He was kept there as an ordinary prisoner. At night mosquito bites would drive him crazy. I was told that he would stay up all night and would be sitting up then. They could have hurled their favorite weapon-DPR-at him, imprisoning him without trial thereby. In any case, in the end they let him leave. I see Mannan smiling, despite the immense hardship he had to undergo. He hasn’t been frightened at all by his experience. I believe in him; he won’t sacrifice the interests of workers, unlike the so-called labor leaders.
This afternoon, Ram Lolit of Pabna had been sent elsewhere from Dhaka jail. It rained heavily in the afternoon. I had been walking up and down the verandah. It was drizzling a little later when I saw Ranesh Babu leaving. I said goodbye to him affectionately. I also said to him, “If you are sent to Pabna jail, do tell my friend Mushtaq that he shouldn’t worry. Our sacrifice won’t go in vain.” Jamadar Sahib came to

lock us up. Since it was a rainy day he did the locking up quickly and went away.
14″ July 1966 i Thursday On July 12, 1789 a revolution took place in France. The people of Paris marched with flags of equality, fraternity, and freedom in their hands and a democratic revolution was initiated. On July 14 they stormed the Bastille prison, abolishing the monarchy, releasing all political prisoners and establishing a People’s Republic. 177 years later, the day is commemorated reverently not only by the people of France but by people all over the world who love and respect democracy. And it is in this spirit that as I sat in this lonely jail cell I paid my respect to the revolutionaries who had sacrificed themselves and raised the flag of democracy in Paris. In future too, freedom loving people of the world will never be able to forget this day.
Yesterday, the full bench of the West Pakistan High Court, citing the Defense of Pakistan Act, rejected writ petitions filed by 22 men. The people mentioned below had been detained under this Act. Who knows how long they will be kept thus? 1. Mia Manzar Bashir, 2. Khawaja Siddiqul Hasan, 3. Choudhury Kalimuddin, 4. Mohammed Ismail, 5. Sikandar Hyat, 6. Sardar Mohammed Zafrullah, 7. Nawabzada Nasrullah, 8. Mallik Gholam Jilani, 9. Khawaja Mohammed Rafiq, 10. Sardar Shaokat Hyat, 11. Khawaja Ahamed Safdar, 12. Choudhury Mohammad Hussain, 13. Abu Sayeed Antar, 14. Syed Maksud, 15. Mr. Abdul Aziz, 16. Khalifa Shahnewaj, 17. Mahbub Mustafa, 18. Qumar Idris, 19. Salahuddin Sheikh, 20. Helal Ahmed Sheikh, 21. Mahmud Ahmed Sindhi.
The D.I.G. of Dhaka jail was here to meet prisoners. He came to see me too and we spent some time together. We talked about religion. I said. “What is the point of talking about Islam? Pakistan has labeled itself an Islamic Republic. See the kind of ‘Islamic’ ideals being practiced everywhere-bribery, repression, oppression, injustice, betrayal, falsehood-all rampant in a manner that will surely make all those who don’t believe in God

laugh at what they have been observing in this country. On the other hand, see how in Russia, where people don’t believe in religion and are trying to establish socialism, bribery and oppression is at an end. The right of the people to live securely has been established there.”
“Look at Great Britain; they’ve established the rule of law over there. The unemployed are given allowances by the government till they can find employment. Pension is given to the old and the disabled. Not a paisa has to be spent for medicine and health care by the people. When a child is born, the government provides financial assistance so that the child can get milk and not become weak. Nobody is imprisoned unjustly.
D.I.G. Sahib is a very religious man. Most of the time, he does the talking and I the listening. It is only now and then that I am able to interject a word or two.
15th July 1966 1 Friday What could be the matter? Why have they been measuring the room I am in? “Forty feet long and four feet wide”; Jamadar Sahib has also been writing down the number of windows and doors. I said to him, “What’s happening? Did the government want to know all this? Why don’t you also write, ‘On the south side there are six windows but only an arm’s length away is a 14 foot high wall. Because of it no wind flows into the room. The window is a low one and the wall very high.” He replies, “Can’t write those things down.” “Why don’t you write too that on the other side of the wall is a cow shed; on the east a fifteen foot high wall and new Cell 20 where violent types who have run away from jail once or twice already are interned; a little further on the north side is Cell 40 where 40 lunatics are being kept. And a little further away on the west side are Cell 6 and 7 where the government has kept prisoners who have confessed to their crimes. And in their midst is “Sheikh Sahib”. He said, “I can’t write such stuff; I’ll be fired from my job then!”
Half an hour later I saw the Civil Surgeon coming to the jail with the doctor. He had come here to examine me and find out

what kind of diseases I have. I said to him, “I’m fine. I’ve piles and that troubles me a bit. My stomach is upset from time to time. I’ve dysentery. I don’t sleep much. Not doing anything will make me overweight and soon I’ll be of no use at all!” He weighed me on a broken down weighing machine; apparently I had gained 7 pounds. Great; at this rate I’ll soon have a paunch! They left. I thought, “The government must be really concerned about the state of my health. Or it must be they’ll tell the High Court, “Look how well we’ve been keeping Sheikh Sahib; we’ve not been troubling him at all.” They must be trying to hide the fact that I’ve been kept in solitary confinement and not allowed to meet or talk to anyone. These days the truth is hardly spoken. This is the neo-dictatorial political science.”
This morning they arrested and then hauled in Awami League’s Office Secretary, Advocate Mr. Mahmudullah. He is being kept in Cell 10. The only work that the gentleman did was to supervise our office work. He had never delivered a public lecture or frequented public meetings; he had never toured the district towns to attend meetings there either. For 15 years now the only thing he would do was work in our office in silence. Since they’ve arrested Mr. Mahmudullah, they aren’t going to let any other Awami League leaders remain outside prison. His children will have a hard time because he has little by way of savings and has had to keep working. He is a very simple soul and has never demanded anything. He had been nominated for a seat in the National Assembly once and had lost by only 12 votes then. He had tuberculosis a few years back but has recovered fully from it by now. I really hope there won’t be a relapse now that he is in prison. Although we are in the same prison there is no way we can meet here.
I saw faces of three people I know in the hospital today. Hafez Musa, Shahabuddin Choudhury and Rashed Musharraf had come to the hospital for treatment. From where I was I could glimpse their faces when they stood on the second floor. But they were far from where I was and even if I had shouted they wouldn’t have heard me!

16 July 1966 1 Saturday
I read about the new import policy for 1966-67 in the papers. Obviously no small importer will be able to stand the competition anymore. The one or two people in East Pakistan who would import a few things would now have to give up. The big business types will be able to take advantage of this import policy with the help of the banks they had helped set up and will go for bulk imports. In the process, they will succeed in squeezing out the small importers. This is one more bid to set up monopoly capitalism. The small industrialists of East Pakistan will be dealt a fatal blow as a consequence. This is because when they’ll fail to compete with West Pakistani industrialists who have been importing goods with the help of bonus vouchers, they’ll be forced to sell their industries to these West Pakistanis. But what is the point of thinking along these lines while in jail? How can one who has sores on one’s body complain about pain? Since you are from a servile race you’ll have to be a slave forever! I am having “a great time” in prison with my friends! Don’t worry; Bengal had given birth to people like Mahmud Ali, Zakir Husain, Moneim Khan, and Abdus Sabur Khan previously and there will be more people like them born in this land in future too!
It was noon and I was reading the newspapers. All of a sudden the prisoners were in uproar. I strained my ears to find out what they were saying. Almost hundred men who had been charged with committing robbery as members of a gang had been confined in a room and then tear-gassed. Some of them were in critical condition now. They had been taken from the jail gate to the hospital. One of them was a prisoner who is interned in a cell very close to my one. I asked him, “What had happened?” He had just been brought back from the court. He said, “I’ve been in prison for the last 7-8 years without any trial. From time to time they take us to the court and we are then brought back. The C.I.D. people have been delaying our trial on purpose. The entire procedure depends on extracting confessional statements. They go to the court whenever they feel like doing so. And if they don’t feel like it, they fall sick on the advice of the C.I.D. people. We’ve
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been here for 7-8 years now; what do we have left by now? We’ve no homestead any more. Those dear to us have either died of hunger or have been reduced to penury and are begging somewhere or the other for survival. The judge was told on behalf of the accused, ‘Sir, try us now. Now the cases are being heard in the lower courts; next they will be heard in the judge court. This is because most cases involve robbery and murder. These are all gang cases fit for inter-district trials.”
Apparently, even the magistrate had become angry with the C.I.D. people on a number of occasions. When they took us to court today and said in it that there would be no trial because the confessors hadn’t come to the court, they burst into protest saying, “Keep us here, we won’t go back to jail.” And so where could they go? The tear gas people were summoned to direct the tear gas at the wire cage where they were being kept. No kindness or sympathy was shown! These people had no place to run away to. Many couldn’t keep their eyes open; some threw up until they lost consciousness. Apparently, six people are in critical condition. They’ve been admitted to the jail hospital. Has justice departed from this land forever? People seem to be doing whatever they want to. Some government employees have gone so out of line that they think they can do just about anything they feel like doing. The only thing they have in mind is to keep the big boss happy. I know the consequences aren’t going to be good ones. But where are they taking Pakistan to? I thought that if the case drags on for 7-8 years and punishment is awarded afterwards, what will it all lead to? “You’ll have to pay for this, you are citizens of a free country; the Islamic Republic of Pakistan is your nation; you’ll have to suffer for your country’s sake. Even if you suffer in this life, you’ll be rewarded with a lot in the next one with houris for sure and so no worries!”
Puffed rice has become very popular in the prison. I can’t tell you how delicious a snack it can be when prepared with green chilies, onions, ginger, and mustard oil! I can’t do without it. The sepoys and jamadars on duty here ask for it in a low voice from the mate and then have it. But what if their bosses find out what

they have been doing? I pretend not to see what they are doing since I issued instructions to the mates to the effect that no one should be refused the puffed rice snack if he wanted to have it.
Whenever I sit down to have the puffed rice snack, I think of my political guru Shahid Sahib. Where could you be now? Your Manik Mian, Mujib and other activists you held dear have all been locked up; injustice and persecution stalk the land; the people of the country have been crying out in agony. The Ittefaq you set up with your own hands has been stifled. Pakistan is an orphan today. I know you’ve blessed us: the people will triumph in the end but when they do, you won’t be around to look after them! 17th July 1966 I Sunday The weeds are spoiling my garden’s grass. I’ve tried and tried to remove them but I just can’t seem to get rid of them. However, I’m going to persevere. I took some prisoners along today on my mission to destroy all weeds. I succeeded in pulling a lot of the weeds out today. But because it is clothes cleaning day for the prisoners today, I couldn’t retain them for long and they left after a while. I worked in the flower garden for some more time. I then sat down with a book and my pipe. I have a paunch now from sitting down all the time. I hate having a pot belly! But there is no way I can do freehand exercise since I have knee pain. I walk in the late afternoon but how long can one walk by oneself? I don’t feel good doing so and so I tend to sit down after a while.
I’ve learned that another Awami League leader has been hauled in. I am told it’s Jalal Sahib. I realized immediately that it was Advocate Molla Jalaluddin that they were talking about. Almost everyone in Dhaka has been arrested by now; Jalal was supposed to have carried on the work as the Acting Secretary. I had suggested that he be made the Secretary. I guess they intend to shut down the office completely from today. Who will run it since everyone has been arrested by now? Some of our people have already been put under EBDO (Electoral Body Disqualification Ordinance) prohibitions. They won’t be allowed to become officials of any organization because of this. What

will become of the workers? Who will run the organization? Where will the money come from?
The government wants to shut the party down through the back door. They won’t succeed though. They aren’t hauling in everyone at one time but are bringing our people in one by one. They have arrested all the secretaries by now; only the Secretary for Women’s Affairs, Amena Begum, has been spared.
Let our activists learn to endure the discomfort of prison life; this will instill the spirit of self-sacrifice in them. Such sacrifice is certainly needed. It is through such self-sacrifice that the people will be freed. Jalal has been kept in Cell 10. There is no way he can meet me. These things don’t hurt me anymore. I don’t get agitated. The 1.B. has withheld some of my books. I’ve been told that they won’t allow me to read Reader’s Digest, Newsweek, Time, Letters from Russia or any other book. This was also the case before. They only allow me to read novels. Read as many romances as you can though! Can an educated man waste his time reading such stuff? Imagine the fall in standards of a few of our government officials. They won’t allow any books to come to prison which has even a whiff of politics! I won’t be allowed to acquire knowledge since those who rule over us are all such learned and wise people!
I’m acting as the head chef today. They’ve supplied liver and so we must prepare a dish with it. The cook here and I are almost at par as far as cooking is concerned. “One can’t outdo the other. Nevertheless, it was I who thought of a recipe and the dish wasn’t that badly cooked. I had some of it. Another precious day of my life wasted! I am not being able to put it to any use. I’m wasting my days in prison in such idleness.

18th July 1966 I Monday
Almost all leading members of the East Pakistan Awami League are having to spend their days in jail as prisoners now. Two workers of the party from Narsinghdi have been arrested and brought here. No one, it seems, will be allowed to stay outside jail. I was, nevertheless, happy to see that a meeting of the Working Committee of the party has been scheduled for the 23. The work must go on. There can be no compromise as far as our demand for the implementation of the “6 points” is concerned. This is the ultimate point as far as our politics is concerned. Awami League workers want nothing more. The only thing they want is for the people to attain their rights.
The President of N.A.P. would like all parties to unite on the basis of a line of action that only requires the minimum commitment. This was stated in their meeting today. With that minimum commitment stated, he has gone to the new house that he has built in Binnachar. It is as if the country will be saved if he stays put there. I’ve seen this gentleman play all sorts of tricks from the time Mr. Suhrawardy had founded the Awami League. He had tried disrupting the election campaign of Miss Jinnah and other movements in order to support Mr. Ayub Khan covertly. It won’t be right for the people of East Bengal to put their faith in him any longer. He doesn’t think about the country’s needs any more. He has gone “international!” From time to time he dispatches telegrams and issues statements in the press. “A great leader of the oppressed masses of Afro-Asia and Latin America”. What is it to him whether the people of East Pakistan live or die? He will be delighted if Mr. Ayub Khan sends him overseas as the leader of another delegation. That must be what he is trying to do!

Mr. Nurul Amin is going to call the leaders of all the parties to form a United Front. The Awami League has no problems in meeting anyone if the “6 points demand” is accepted. I don’t intend to dupe people. If we don’t agree on principles, conflicts are bound to arise in future between us. This is a point that must be thought through. If power is to be wrested back from the Ayub government and returned to the people, it won’t be possible to paper over differences with people with whom we don’t agree in principle, in order to become one with the others. This may cause some problems for the Ayub government but it won’t fulfill the demands of the people. The “6 Points” movement is being pushed forward despite all the repressive tactics that have been adopted against it. They haven’t been able to stifle the movement despite the hundred forms of torture that they have deployed against us, and they’ll never succeed in doing so. Those who have now come forward to be a part of a United Front are attempting to fool the people. The Awami League cannot work with people who did not come forward when the movement was going on in full swing. Such a policy will do more harm than good. There can be no talk of a minimum commitment. The minimum demand that must be put forward is that of the “6 points”. None of our demands will be met if the constitutional framework isn’t amended. What needs to be done is to fix up the constitutional framework of Pakistan.
The iron bars and the walls of the prison prevent one from viewing the wide expanse of the evening sky. When I used to be outside the prison I could never get the time to view the open sky. At that time, I didn’t want to do so either. This was because I had immersed myself in work then.
19 July 1966 I Tuesday Mr. Ameer Mohammed Khan, the Governor of West Pakistan, had pledged to lead the ongoing discussions about the confiscation of the Ittefaq press and the arrest of Manik Mia to a satisfactory conclusion. Yesterday was the day when the
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very much alive now. They will remember that the differences occurred over the question of foreign policy. These differences had also been resolved by the Working Committee the night before the conference. The Maulana had supported Mr. Suhrawardy in the Working Committee and had stated that with his inclusion the Awami League had 12 out of 80 representatives in it, if one included Mr. Suhrawardy in the cabinet. But if the Prime Minister is the leader of only 12 of those representatives, how would it be possible to alter the foreign policy? When Mr. Suhrawardy had engineered the victory of the United Front in the elections and had been able to restore individual freedom, and when he is now striving to have elections held as soon as possible, we shouldn’t be clamoring about foreign policy till the elections are over. He had told the Working Committee to hand over power to the parliamentary party. In the case of foreign affairs, whatever the parliamentary committee considers as appropriate should be done.
After the conference had ended successfully, the Maulana gave a misleading statement to newspapers stating that a resolution over foreign policy had been passed and Mr. Bhashani had been given the responsibility in this regard. No resolution about foreign policy had been adopted though and it had been decided that no such policy would ever be adopted. The Maulana knew full well that the Council meeting would not adopt any of his resolutions. This is because all the counselors revered Mr. Suhrawardy and supported him. In the election that was held in Dhaka in New Picture Hall and the Gulistan Cinema Hall meeting a few months after the event, Maulana Bhashani had received only 43 of the 834 votes cast. And no discussion on autonomy took place in that event. This is because the Awami League has been carrying on the movement for autonomy from its inception. The Maulana must have forgotten that when the autonomy bill was framed in parliament in its 1955-56 sessions, the Awami League had initiated movements centered over the issue of autonomy again and again. The Central Law Council’s records can provide evidence of this fact. And I myself still have
those records. Even Mr. Abul Monsur has said something like, “We are two countries; but we need to forge a nation” (I don’t recall the exact words he said though). That is why East Pakistan must be given autonomy. Hundreds of such amendments were put forth by Mr. Abul Monsur, Mr. Zahiruddin, Mr. Deldar, Mr. Khaleque and I as well as many others. It was because autonomy was not given that many of us, including Mr. Suhrawardy, staged walkouts. The Maulana seldom speaks the truth. But I had no idea that he could lie to this extent.
When the Awami League was fractured and N.A.P. emerged, the Maulana would say that the split occurred over foreign policy; but we can hear him say something altogether different now. If he continues to live, we are going to hear newer things from him. For example, he has never qualified for the “Maulana” title by passing the examination required but will take offence if he is not addressed with that title!
Why was N.A.P. formed? Certainly not because of principles! The Maulana is full of envy and jealousy. He could not stand Mr. Suhrawardy’s popularity. His tendency to nurture resentment can be seen when we note that his conscience did not prevent him from secretly joining hands with Iskander Mirza. He wanted to make Mr. Mirza someone like Egypt’s Nasser.
People now know him for what he really is; I know all about his hunger strikes. It is difficult to figure out if he is supporting Mr. Ayub through his policy of “minimum commitment” or participating in the movement against him. But even if the Maulana will not support the “6 point movement” it is being waged, and will continue to be waged, until we attain our objective. But if it is opposed, the chances are of a “funeral where fewer than expected people will show up”!
20″ July 1966 I Wednesday It seems that there will be no solution to the situation created by the confiscation of the Ittefaq press and Manik Bhai’s arrest. Mr. Moneim has told Mr. President and Nawab Kalabagh

Sahib that he had put an end to the “6 points” movement in East Bengal. If he had a few days more given to him he would have weeded it out forever! That is why the government possibly decided against coming to any kind of understanding. Possibly not a very wise move on his part though; the outcome won’t be favorable for him in any way. Manik Mia is not involved in politics directly but he has his own ideological viewpoint. How can I express in language how unfair it is to keep him in prison under the Defense of Pakistan Rules and how unprincipled an action it amounts to? Journalists have ended their strike till further notice. Perhaps they have been given some kind of assurance. The hearing subsequent to the writ petitions filed by Tajuddin, Khondoker Mushtaq and Nurul Islam Choudhury as well as myself started yesterday. Who knows what the outcome will be? But the government is not going to let us go—I can see that! Even if they are exonerated from the charges against them for violation of D.P.R they are going to come up with some other charges. And as far as I am concerned, the situation for me is quite different. Eight cases against me are now being pursued; they are laying the ground for some others as well. Whenever they will need them, they will set these cases in motion. All praise to you Moneim Khan and to your brand of politics!
Mr. Nurul Amin has requested us to come together. But our demands will never be met if we merely unite and then decide to remain indoors. Mr. Nurul Amin has in his party men who will hide in a corner of a room the moment they hear about participating in a movement; these people are only too aware that ending up in jail is a possibility. They have no qualms about trying to disrupt the movement by attacking it from the rear. And when they feel that a confrontation is imminent they take their passports in hand and go abroad for medical reasons. Although the country has come together to realize the importance of the “6 points”; although so many people have sacrificed their lives happily for it; and although so many people have ended up in prison for it, these people

who are so eager for “unity” have not only confined themselves to their homes, but have also refrained from any form of protest against what is happening. And now they talk about uniting and declare that they are going to launch a “movement”! Others might be naive enough to believe them, but I certainly am not going to do so. This is because I know them only too well.
People have no faith in such talk about unity proclaimed by our leaders. Certainly, people need to be united. And in East Bengal they have come together. But the demands raised by them will only be met if they have the right kind of leadership. The Awami League is a party given to resistance and it will continue to pursue the path of resistance. It is not right to go with those whose principles are different merely to get a little extra benefit. And it won’t be right to dupe the people. The minimum demand is the “6 points”. In addition, we demand the release of all political prisoners, exemption of land-revenue for farmers who have less than 25 bigha holdings, fulfillment of the just demands of the workers, payment of dearness allowance to impoverished employees, and adoption of a strategy for action to solve the food crisis. The Awami League can’t enter into an alliance with any other party at the expense of the “6 points”. And it will never do so.
All day long I spend my time reading books. This is because there is no other way in which I can spend my time. The government has seen to it that I can’t even engage in the briefest of conversation with anyone. In the afternoon, I walk by myself. I keep thinking of all kinds of things from my past. I keep thinking of how my friends would behave with me and when they would do anything with me. Many people have showered their love on me while some have hated me. I keep thinking of all these things in my isolation. Just as I have selfless friends who are willing to forsake their lives for my sake with a smile, I have enemies who can rid me of my life with a grin on their faces.
have a lot of sorrow ahead of me in this life; I’ve been preparing

myself for them. But what grieves me the most is the thoughts of my old parents when their images float in my mind’s eye.
21″ July 1966 1 Thursday Mr. Rashed Mosharraf and Shahabuddin Choudhury have been released from the Jail Hospital today. They are better than they were before. They have been sent to cell #10. There are other Awami League leaders interned there as well. They gestured from the first floor to let me know that they will be leaving the hospital on this day. I tried to move as close as I could to understand what they were trying to say. As they were leaving I stood my ground for a while and extended my best wishes to them and said as loudly as I could, “Don’t worry; your sacrifice isn’t going to be in vain. People will wrest their due rights.” They seemed so eager to come as close to me as they could. At least they could have glimpsed me, if even from a distance previously, but that isn’t going to happen anymore. I could see the pain visible in their features. Hafez Musa is still in the hospital. He isn’t feeling well at all.
I was hoping that Renu and the children would be coming to see me this day. My instincts were telling me as much and I remember Renu telling me the last day she was here, “We’ll be coming on the 20″ or the 21th.” I kept looking at the road from 4 p.m. I kept thinking: she is going to be here any moment. When it was 5 p.m. I thought, “No—they didn’t get permission to visit me today”. I for my part came out of my room and started walking for my constitutional. It was a very hot day. I have been doing some exercise recently as well. This is because I haven’t been sleeping well at night. Just before evening I planted some aubergine plants with my own hands.
Syed Sharfuddin Pirzada has become the new Foreign Minister. He was once Pakistan’s Attorney General. He had made quite a reputation for himself as an Advocate. This is the kind of administration they are running-make someone a minister at one moment and sack him the next!—everything is being done as if we were in the days of emperors. I’ve seen
enough of their machinations by now-God knows how much more of their scheming I’ll have to view in future.
North Vietnam has declared that American pilots won’t be treated as prisoners of war; they’ll be tried as war criminals from now on. Bombing another country wrongly-without declaring war-how can they expect any better treatment than what they are getting then?
A special bench of the Dhaka High Court, headed by Justice B. A. Siddiki, had been hearing the habeas corpus cases against Nurul Islam Choudhury, Tajuddin Ahmed, Khondoker Mushtaque Ahmed and l; apparently, it has now concluded its hearing. The Justice has adjourned ruling in these cases. Mr. Abdul Salam Khan and some other advocates have been conducting the lawsuits on our behalves.
22nd July 1966 I Friday I tend not to sleep much at night. What is worse, last night two mad men began shouting themselves hoarse. One of them was screaming from Cell 40. The moment he would become silent the other would howl like a dog or a cat. And that is the way the night went. At first I had become very upset at this. Then I began to laugh at what was happening from where I was inside the mosquito net. The reason was that one of these lunatics really could bark like a dog. Just when the dawn was breaking, and I was finally about to doze off, the head count resumed for the day. The prison guards would do this every day to check on the number of prisoners. I got up from bed and found one of my three hens quite sick. It was due to lay eggs in two to four days time. What a beautiful creature it is! I would call for it and feed it myself. It needed to be treated with drugs now. I administered some onion juice at first and then some garlic-following whatever advice came my way. I soon realized that if it was tortured thus it would soon die. And so I began giving it some water from time to time and some food too and washed its head with water. By evening it looked distinctly worse. Who knows what its fate is going to be!

Feeling depressed, I moved towards Cell 6. Suddenly I saw someone moving, his feet tied to a rod. I inquired-what was the matter here? I asked the man, “Why have they tied a rod to you thus?” He said, “I have to show up in court Sir; they’ve given me a 53 year sentence; I’ll have to serve 25 years of it at the least. There are 193 cases against me that are still being heard. It is known as the Munshiganj Gang Case. The Lord knows how many years I’ll be sentenced to ultimately! I had run away from jail once. Then they sentenced me to so many years in it and that is why they’ve tied me up thus to take me to court.” I said, “Why did you ruin your life by becoming a robber? Who are your relatives?” He replied then, “My parents were both dead when I was still very young. I had a cousin who was a robber. Perhaps you’ve heard about him-Munshiganj’s Felu Moyal. He cajoled me into becoming a robber. I was a young lad then and he enticed me by giving me some money. That made me greedy for more and I joined him. I would even rob people on my own and did so once or twice. True, I am guilty of committing robbery 10-12 times; I am now beginning to realize the extent of my follies. Felu Moyal, my own cousin, turned state witness, having confessed to his own crime. The case has dragged on for 7 years now; only God knows how much longer it will go on! But how much of this life can be left for me? 53 years of prison! That I’ll have to serve at least 25 more years has been confirmed already. The present case will add a few more years to that! In other words, the rest of my life will be spent in the prison cell. I have my wife and a daughter. Will I ever get to stay with them? I guess I would have never ended up this way if my parents had been alive. I’ve committed many a sin and have done a lot of wrong in my lifetime. Will God forgive me?” He was quiet for a while and then resumed speaking thus, “What is going to happen to my wife and daughter? I wasn’t able to leave anything behind for them. Even if I’m able to go out once more, there is no real way out for me. Even if I commit no more robberies, I’ll have to return to jail again since I’ve now become identified as a criminal. If there is any robbery, I’ll be the one the police will
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haul in!” His name was Choton. He was of robust build and short and stocky. His health was unimpaired. It was as if even a bullet would not be able to pierce his body. But he’ll have to end his life within the cruel brick walls of the prison! And yet he keeps hoping that he’ll be released after he had served his 25 years. He keeps yearning for the open air and hoping that he’ll once more be able to walk freely outside. He keeps thinking that he’ll be able to raise a family and be with his children. There is no end to hoping for mankind. Many are released after serving 20 years in prison. But they don’t last long once outside. When you have to stay here for a long time, only your external form stays intact; nothing remains inside you at the end of that time!
Nowadays I walk a lot in the evening. I reckon I walk 1 or 2 miles every day. I’ve already calculated how much I have to walk within this limited space to walk a mile and circle the place accordingly. 23″ July 1966 1 Saturday As I sat in the verandah in the morning and read the newspapers, a prisoner came to my cell and stood outside the door. It was as if he wanted to say something to me. Even amongst ordinary prisoners one comes across some astute men. They seem to have some understanding of the political situation. This prisoner, however, was of the violent sort. He didn’t care about prison regulations at all. He had been roughed up a lot in his life. But he has some education. Every once in a while he’ll use an English word or two.
I said to him, “Is there anything you’d like to know?” He wasn’t that old perhaps 25 or 26-and so I addressed him using the somewhat informal form of “tumi” (you). He said, “You speak about East Bengal and have been waging a movement for our rights and keep saying things against West Pakistan but it isn’t the West Pakistani leaders alone who are accountable; East Pakistanis too must share some of the blame.” Startled by his outburst, I looked at him and said, “Is there anything else that you’d like to say? He replied, “No!” I was compelled to tell him
now, “Our movement isn’t directed against the West Pakistani people; we too would like to see ordinary West Pakistanis happy and at peace. But there is among the West Pakistanis a powerful and oppressive group, working alongside an empowered group of bureaucrats, who are responsible for the situation. They are the ones who are involved in conspiratorial politics and use direct and indirect means to suppress and dominate East Pakistan. They are a wily lot. Some East Pakistani leaders must share some of the blame here too. Our leaders have known the state of things since 1947 and yet self-interest has motivated them to let these West Pakistani men have their way with us. These East Pakistani leaders did nothing to oppose them; they never protested against what was happening, lest the higher ups took offense! For what if they lost their ministerial or official position? Till 1954, they would use unbelievable repressive methods against anyone protesting the oppressive measures taken against us, only to make the West Pakistani colonizers happy! These East Pakistani leaders have been used to thwart the demand for autonomy and to deny us the right to have Bengali as a state language, and to have more Bengalis appointed in the Armed Forces and in government offices. They don’t seem to understand or don’t want to understand what is happening. One or two of them have even been campaigning to have Bengali written in the Urdu script. To hold on to their ministerial positions these people have been opposing our demand to make Chittagong a naval base.
When after the 1954 elections the Pakistani oppressors realized that they would no longer be able to suppress us like they had done previously, they resorted to conspiracies again using these same East Pakistanis–the very same East Pakistanis who before the election had tried to flatter Mr. Huq and lean on the Awami League so that they could be elected to the parliament. They used the old man to achieve their ends. When the Second Constituent Assembly began its work of drafting the constitution, and the Awami League members led by Mr. Suhrawardy began demanding autonomy inside the parliament and outside it, these very same Bengalis cast their votes to defeat us and let them draft

a constitution for us. If all Bengalis had been united at that point we would have been able to attain autonomy by now. The repression now being perpetrated against us would not have taken place if Mr. Mohammed Ali (Bogra) had not played into their hands, seduced by the prospects of a ministerial position; we would have had many of our demands met then. See now how these very same Bengalis are trying to thwart the Awami League’s demand for the implementation of the “6 points” and for financial and constitutional autonomy for East Pakistan. Mr. Moneim Khan is still governing the province, but who is going to drive him out of his job? He continues to use the severest of repressive measures possible. Arresting us, shutting down Ittefag press, confiscating the New Nation, imprisoning its owner, and resorting to bullets in Narayanganj and Tejgaon seem not to have bothered him a bit. But who have they been keeping in prison? Who have they been shooting down? Who is the person or who are these people who are responsible for the destruction of the lives of hundreds of students? Surely they didn’t come here from West Pakistan. If the demand for autonomy turns out to be successful, wouldn’t these people’s children be gainers as well? Will only those who sacrificed their lives bear the fruits in that case! We are the ones who must take most of the blame for the ills afflicting us. If I help those who are responsible for robbing my own home for petty gains, why blame the thief?
As we were talking thus, the Jamader showed up along with a sepoy. The convict retreated to his cell quickly. I sat down silently for a while and then resumed reading the newspaper again.
When the Jailor showed up in the evening I said to him, “Make arrangements so that all the Awami League people in Cell 10 can have the same food served to them. Ward 1/2 has D.P.R. prisoners; separate cooking facilities are available for them there too. They are prisoners of D.P.R. But what will the political prisoners of Wards 1/2 think of them? Previously cooking was done in the same place. If they are going to have separate arrangements for their cooking, let that be done where

they are being interned this was precisely what the Awami League political prisoners had demanded. They never wanted to have 2 different menus served amongst them when they are staying in the same place. The prisoners in 1/2 class must be really unhappy thinking: how can our colleagues be served different foods from us?”
The Jailor said, “I really hadn’t paid attention to this. I’m sure that wasn’t the right thing to do? But what can be done now? There is no space left. You aren’t being kept here because the jail administration wants you to be here. Cell 10 has no cooking arrangements for it as well.” I said, “Such is our fate! The Awami League men have to be kept in the worst state, just as I have to remain in solitary confinement. Make sure that I have no one with me.” The jailer kept quiet. I know very well there is no point in my telling these people anything. If people stoop as low as this, one must stoop low as well to contend with them. But since I can’t ever stoop so low I’ll have to put my faith in God and serve my time in jail. The jailer now went away.
My chicken is dead! I’ve administered too many drugs to it. The poor thing was in great pain; it’s good that it’s gone. But I liked the chicken very much. Its movement had a kind of grace to it.
24h July 1966 1 Sunday I received a letter from my father today. As I was reading his letter, a prisoner who knew how to read and write, inquired of me, “Did your father write the letter? I said, “Yes, but how did you figure that out?” “I saw the words: ‘Dearest Child’. Who else would write these words to you except your Dad?” I laughed out loud and said, “I’m still his baba khoka” (baba is in this context “son” and “khoka” a term of endearment for the little male child in Bengali) to them. They’ll address me thus as long as I’m alive. The day he passes away from this world there’ll be no one left to use that term of endearment with me. Who else can have the right of such address? I’m 45 years old now and my hair is graying. I’m the father of five children and

still to my parents I’m their “Dearest khoka”. I still hug my parents close to myself to express my love for them whenever I get to meet them.
My father is the quiet sort. He appears serious and somber all the time. We children would always be as much intimidated by him as we would love him. Our mom always weeps as we leave her or whenever we go out of her sight for long. She is the very emotional sort. But my father has infinite control over himself. I’ve never seen a dark shadow hovering over his face. He must have been fond of me because I am so restless in nature. My father had written somewhere or the other, “I’ve come to know of the way you are now from your letters of 19/6/66 and 1/7/66. I learnt from them as well that you keep worrying about us all the time. But never worry overmuch about us; by God’s grace, there can be few people as happy as I am; there can’t be too many people as blessed as I am. As you well know, I’ve got the capacity to endure and not be upset by travails and dangers.”
I kept thinking about my father and mother over and over again afterwards. Would I ever get to see my mother again? I tried to concentrate on reading the newspapers and book that I had with me for a long time but couldn’t erase the thought of them from my mind. I had worked in my flower garden for a long time as well. I wasn’t feeling all right either. The words of Rabindranath Tagore, our archetypal poet, came to my mind:
“To save me when I’m besieged by trouble. Is not what I pray forWhat I pray for is not be frightened When I’m in trouble.”
The daylight faded and I returned to the place that had become so well known to me!
25″ July 1966 I Monday My health is deteriorating. I must be feeling very weak because I have had to sit down all day. The Awami League has been
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appealing to our people to carry on the movement peacefully till the demand for the “6 points” is met. Even though the Awami League has been carrying on a peaceful movement, the government continues to resort to oppressive measures against it. They’ve been firing on us, shooting tear gas at us, jailing hundreds of our workers, and staging farcical shows in the name of trials. Who can tell how many hundreds of people have been killed by bullets till now? The government itself has admitted to the death of 11 people in the firing that took place on 7th June. That we would like to partition Pakistan into two parts is what they are crying out loud constantly. But the truth is it is they who are doing harm to the image of Pakistan. They should meet the legitimate demands of the people of East Pakistan. We don’t want to separate from them. Pakistan will remain one if the demands of autonomy are met. The English had resorted to shooting innumerable people, but were not able to suppress the demands of the people forever. So many people were hung by their necks in this country by them. Many remember those events and the men-Gopinath Shaha, Nirmal, Jibon Ghosh, Ramkrishna Roy, Brajaokishore Chakravarty, Khudiram, Surjo Sen, Tarekeshwar and so many people were hanged by them. And yer the English weren’t able to thwart the movement against them. On the contrary, the movement intensified. Although we didn’t believe in the politics of violence, that was the path that had to be taken because of the repressive measures used by the English. There was a time when the English sahibs didn’t dare to leave their homes.
I know that the Awami League believes in movements that are disciplined and so no one should resort to brutal measures against it. “The government could have declared–“you shouldn’t be doing politics at all. Then we would have mulled over the issue of whether we should be doing politics or not. We didn’t resort to politicking at the time since there was Martial Law in the land. We were quiet at that time since politics had been banned then. I’ve no idea how I spent the whole day today!

26″ July 1966 1 Tuesday Surely this is the day of the “visit”. Renu will turn up with the children-but only if they are kind enough to give the permission to do so! Fifteen days have already gone by, but time just doesn’t seem to pass at all; I keep looking at my watch to see when it will be 4 o’clock. I manage to pass the afternoon somehow, reading newspapers all the time. I’ve become so weak lately that I don’t feel up to walking anymore. At half past four a sepoy came to escort me. I’ve been allowed two visits–my company’s manager and accountant had come to discuss matters relating to business. From a distance the little one was calling me, saying “Daddy! Daddy!” Something that really bothers me during these visits is that they keep sending two officers at a time on such occasions. They know very well my wife and children aren’t bothered about politics at all. What we talk about has to do entirely with purely family matters–mother is apparently a bit better; my father is in Khulna at the moment; how my younger brother’s children were doing; how my own family was doing-would they be needing money? Though I’ve earned a lot, I’ve spent all that I’ve earned. Our talk is about such domestic issues. I imagine that these officials must be embarrassed at having to hear such things. What else could they hear though as they sat with us? I said to Renu, “I’m putting on weight–what can I do?” She brings a lot of food along with her. I can’t figure out what to do! Renu has come up with a marriage proposal for my older daughter; she told me all the details. She would like to know what I felt about it. I said, “How can I comment on the merits of the proposal while in jail? Let her keep studying though and finish her higher intermediate and Bachelor’s degrees. We’ll consider this issue when that happens.” Renu, however, is worried. But how could I tell her how long they would be keeping me in this place? It seems like they would want to confine me here for a long, long time. But I’m ready to be here. From a big prison to a small one–that is the only difference in this case!

27th July 1966 I Wednesday After my family left I was given a summons. It was from A. Ahmed, a First Class Magistrate, and it stated that I would be tried in the jail gate and won’t be taken to court. This case was filed in Ramna Police Station, and was numbered 80 (4)/66. Its G. R. number is 1893/66 U. R. 47 D.P.R. 1965. This case was lodged against me a few days before I was arrested in Dhaka. After I was given bail in this case by the District Judge, I was arrested that very night and sent to Sylhet. They arrested me under D.P.R. and confined me without trial indefinitely and still they are not satisfied. There must be limits even to torture. They’ve filed a total of 8 cases against me and even then seem to not have had their fill. It all stems from the brain of one man. He’s already earned a name for himself in East Pakistan for his skills in “back-door” politics. My mind has been embittered by such meanness. How can a nation that has given birth to such a mean-minded person ever expect to be free?
It would have been helpful if I had received this notice 20/25 minutes back. I could have told my wife to ask Zahiruddin and my other lawyers to come. The relevant papers, certified copyso many things are needed! The 1.B. is now very stingy as far as granting visits are concerned. They think that I’m continuing to do politics even in jail. They should know we don’t do that sort of politics. In that case I wouldn’t have been involved in 6 point politics” so openly and would be working covertly. I believe in politics that is principled. If I can’t pursue politics in this manner I would rather leave it. Why bother then? We don’t have a monopoly on the country’s welfare! Only those who believe in violence would do politics anymore; they would use force from their underground hideouts then, if given the opportunity. Why should I bother anymore? I’ve been doing politics for quite a while. I’ll spend quality time with my children now. But the way the government has been resorting to repressive tactics it is difficult to say what turn politics will take next.
I spent the whole day in bed today. I don’t think about myself much. My only regret is at the form of torture deployed.

If they had hung me instead of torturing me in this fashion all things would be resolved. I hear that they’ve filed cases against me in Chittagong, Sylhet, Mymensingh, Dhaka-everywhere! How will I handle so many cases all by myself? But I’ve set myself adrift and what will be, will be. Only God has protected me from these tyrants till now and He’ll do so in future too.
28″ July 1966 I Thursday I am having intense, shooting pain that is stretching up to my back and spine. Can’t figure out what the source is. Can’t seem to sit down at all. I find some relief only when I am lying down. I can walk though. It doesn’t pain that much when I walk but I have to stay erect then. I spend the day lying down in bed. I massaged the affected spot with mustard oil twice. Rafique, one of the “chapia” workers here, as they are called in prisons) is good at massaging. But I couldn’t sleep at night. 29th July 1966 I Friday The whole day I groaned in pain. Captain Samad, the physician, came to see me. He gave some pills for me to swallow and some ointments for use as well. I kept lying down. In the evening 1 went out and after trying hard was able to sit down in the chair placed in the verandah. After spending some time in it I went back to my bed. I was feeling very uncomfortable.
30th July 1966 I Saturday The Civil Sergeant showed up this day as well and prescribed some more medicines. The pain has lessened but I find it difficult to sit up or down. I have to spend the whole day by myself. In addition, I’ve not been feeling well at all. When I was sitting outside in the evening, I noticed our Office Secretary, Advocate Mr. Mohammedullah, being taken to Block #1 of old Cell 20. The road he was on went past where I was being kept. I asked him, “What’s happening?” I was able to figure out the situation though. Mr. Mohammadullah had contracted

tuberculosis in 1955 and had to spend nearly 7/8 months in Mohakhali T.B. Hospital then. He had been cured there after treatment. I imagine the disease has infected him again. He had been taken to Dhaka Medical College for X-rays. The report he has been given must have brought bad news. This is why he is now being taken to the T. B. Ward from Cell 10. Being in any T.B. Ward in a prison is tantamount to being in a cell. Even a sane person can become insane if confined to a cell for long. One can imagine what happens to someone who is already unwell in such situations. Although I won’t be able to talk to him, I’ll be able to view him and inquire and find out how he is doing there. I am aware of Mr. Mohammedullah’s financial situation. To be kept in a cabin in Mohakhali Hospital is a costly affair. In addition, he has his domestic expenses to take care of. I have no idea whether the government is going to release him or not. The days go by and will continue to pass. I’m not engaged in anything useful here at all.
31″ July 1966 I Sunday A bird doesn’t want to remain in a cage even if it is a gilded one. Even animals dislike being made to spend life in captivity. And how can we humans think of enduring such a life? As I thought of Mr. Mohammedullah this day, all sorts of thoughts came to my mind. The men who sacrificed their lives over the ages for their ideals surely did not do so because they intended to grab power. They did so because of principles and ideals. So many of our mothers have had their bosoms emptied, so many of our sisters have become widows, so many men have been murdered, and so many families have become ruined! And of course there is a reason for all of this–those who are responsible for such forms of torture do so out of self-interest or because of some interest group or the other. But everyone knows that we are all mortals. And yet people become so blind because of self-interest and seem to lose sight of things. When he murders someone else’s son, he forgets that he has one too. The human race is so blinded by selfishness!
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What I’ve witnessed in the 19 years of Pakistan’s history sends a chill down my spine. Whoever comes to power believes he alone is fit to think about the country’s future and feels everyone else is a potential traitor as far as the country is concerned, or guilty of treason, or what not. Many a leader of this country has been destroyed after being kept in captivity month after month and year after year. Their health is ruined thus and their families destroyed as well. Who knows for how long such repressive acts will go on? Is that what freedom is supposed to be; is this supposed to be human rights?
I kept thinking about such things for a long time. I feel like leaving this path altogether, but how can I bear such injustice in silence? My conscience keeps pricking me. I am getting old and my health continues to deteriorate, Will I be able to stay healthy? I console myself thinking: how long do I have to live in any case? Let things go on as they are. Even if I’m not able to do anything more, that I’ve been able to sacrifice at least a few things for them must serve as consolation for me.
My pain is no longer that intense. I’ve begun walking again, but slowly
19 August 1966 I Monday What a surprise! Mr. Moneim has been quite for some time now. He hasn’t been making any threatening noises, even after his return from Rawalpindi. All the parties have met in Mr. Nurul Amin’s residence. There is no real reason for me to object to a movement launched on the basis of a minimum agenda. But there are no capable leaders around who can head such a movement. A united movement can be launched on the basis of the “6 points” demand for full regional autonomy, release of all political prisoners, withdrawal of the State of Emergency, the decision to confiscate the Ittefaq press, and fulfillment of the demands made by farmers and workers. But it seems to me that the N.D.F. leaders are holding on to their same old line, “Demand for democracy”. It is as if they have no other demand

to articulate and no party need remain in the scene. They keep clamoring about “A united command”! But this won’t take any movement forward and won’t lead to any demands being met. Limited to the interior of a house, all one can do is indulge in conspiratorial politics and see to whether any more concessions can be given. The N.A. P. has taken to another path altogether! They are willing to work with everyone else; but at the least some demands must be included in the common minimum program drawn up.
There is no possibility of any of these things happening in this country. The party that will launch the movement must be the one to sacrifice for it; and only that party will get the support of the masses. Only they will able to realize the demands through a peaceful movement. Let the Awami League members still outside carry on the movement. Let’s see what the outcome can be. The “6 points” has the support of the masses; all that is needed is the right kind of leadership. Let me not write here about the mistakes committed by the leadership on the 7th!
I had thought perhaps I would get the opportunity to meet my lawyer as well as my wife since the trial is scheduled to begin on the 8″ of August at the jail gate. The court will sit there! Only six days remain; when will they come and take the papers with them?
It will take time for them to come up with the certified copy that the court requires. Who are the lawyers who will be arguing the case? They stage such a farce in the name of justice! Even when Martial Law had been enforced I had been given a fair trial; nowadays the phone rings at the very mention of the word “bail”!
2nd August 1966 1 Tuesday I had been trying very hard to get accurate news about Mr. Mohammedullah. Did they get the X-rays? When the physician arrived to examine me, I asked him how he was doing. He said, “The X-ray revealed that he is still suffering from tuberculosis.” I

can’t see the point of dragging a man in this condition to prison. I’ve never seen a man as harmless as he is. He was doing office work. He has never delivered speeches in any meeting. He never set out to form a party anywhere. All he would do is tend to the papers in the office. It seems that he has applied to the government so that he can either have the right kind of medical treatment or be freed. I’ve no idea what is going to happen now, but if his health deteriorates any further, something untoward is likely to happen. The government will be fully responsible for what happens to him in that case.
I have a guard posted here whose name is Fayez. He is from Manikganj. He had a visitor from his village home who has brought him some lemons. He has had four of these lemons sent to my cell and has asked me to have them. I called for him. When he came I said, “Fayez, I’ve lemons sent to me and so please have the lemons yourself.” He replied, “Sir, I’ll be very hurt if you don’t have them.” We exchanged no further words. 1 kept thinking, “These people have such big hearts; if he had more, he would have given me even more. I must have the lemons sent to him from his village home!”
I subscribe to five newspapers but there is really nothing worth reading in them. They’ve turned these papers into pamphlets. I read the “first-day of the month” speech Mr. Ayub Khan gave carefully, but if talks are to be held with India and problems with it resolved, they must come to a satisfactory solution about Kashmir. He spoke well, at least according to this report: “President Ayub Khan said today, ‘Without meaningful talks on the problem of Jammu and Kashmir, any treaty between India and Pakistan to resolve the basic disputes would be futile.” But I don’t understand the word “meaningful” in this context. I’ve heard him say the same thing before. Doesn’t it mean that we can’t ask for a referendum? If that is the case, shouldn’t this be spelled out? India is not willing to change its stance in any way. India believes in democracy; why, then, will it not take the road to democracy? The reason is that they know very well that if the people of
Kashmir make their feelings known through an open election, they won’t cast their votes for India. And so it must hold on to Kashmir through repressive measures.
By not coming to a peaceful resolution to solve the problem of Kashmir, the governments of both countries are harming the interests of their peoples. If the two countries agree on peace, their armies would not have to spend so much money for military purposes and we would have been able to spend it on development work. This would have benefitted both countries. But it seems to me that it is India’s obstinacy on the issue that is preventing any peaceful resolution of the conflict.
I looked at the news on Nigeria–mass murders are taking place there again. The “Iron Man” of Nigeria, the military head of state, Johnson Sandon Sarnim, has been assassinated. A Colonel Yakubu has taken complete control of the country.
Nowadays President Ayub Khan invokes God’s name and has the prophet’s name on his lips whenever he talks. That’s no doubt a good thing. President Ayub has said, “The unity of the two parts of the country is a situation that has its source in the greatness of the Messenger Prophet Mohammed’s spirit (Peace Be Upon Him!) As long as this source continues to inspire us, the unity of the country will be unaffected.” But in invoking the Prophet’s greatness one must remember that he nowhere said that one part of country must exploit the other. He had always talked about justice and equity. Conflicts always arise between the exploiter and the exploited and such conflicts will continue to take place. Exploiters have no nationality and no religion. People of the same religion continue to exploit each other directly or through subterfuge. The President gestured this day at the “6 points”. Mr. Sabur has been saying openly that there is a covert attempt to split Pakistan into two through the “6 points”. Where did he find such a conspiracy? How did he arrive at this conclusion? If Pakistan is not united how can these demands be met? It won’t be possible to fool people any more by using such arguments. The people have wizened up by now.

3rd August 1966 I Wednesday In the morning the Civil Surgeon came to examine me. This was because I wasn’t well. But how can one stay well when one is in solitary confinement inside a jail? I’m often unwell. But I didn’t say anything to my wife about my health. This is because if I tell her about it she’ll become ill too.
I walked around for a long time this day. Just when I was about to have my evening tea I saw a sepoy of the Security Branch coming to take me to the jail gate. It seems that I have a “visit’- Mr. Zahiruddin, Mr. Abul and my wife were here. My three youngest children came with her. We discussed the cases against me for a while. We had to discuss these cases in front of the I.B. officials. Two of their inspectors have been assigned for the task. But there is no way you can discuss such things with them sitting down in front of you. Exactly what the I. B. people would like to know is how the cases are going to be argued in court. And why would we tell them that? I said, “Take the certified copies of the letters. We won’t participate in the trial without them. I’ll tell them that-let them do whatever they want to.” How can we pursue the case without the relevant papers? Mr. Salam would be there too. I am told that many lawyers would show up in the jail gate on the 8th to pursue the case. I told Renu to give some money so that the certified copies could be taken to the court room. My youngest son whispered something in my ear. He is twentyone months old now. I said, “If you whisper in my ears, the I. B. is going to be displeased; he will surmise that we’ve been whispering about political matters.” Everyone present laughed. This is a game that Russell plays with me-he puts his lips close to my ears quietly and laughs. This day he doesn’t want to take leave of me. I had to hand him over to his mother and go inside. My younger daughter Rehana doesn’t want to leave me and so I kissed her. I’ve no idea what the outcome of the trial will be. But the government seems to be all excited about it. There are quite a few cases to deal with.
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I’ve no idea when I’ll get to leave the prison. I returned just before twilight. “Back to my old home!”
They locked me up from outside. A sepoy asked me, “I hear your father has disinherited you for getting involved in politics and for being imprisoned repeatedly? ” I told him that I had heard such talk often in my life. But not too many sons are fortunate to have the kind of love my father showers on me even now. My father never has a frown on his face when he talks to me. Even now he will embrace me as he would a child whenever I’m around him. And he has never disappointed me in any way. My father was never rich. He has had to suffer a lot, but he always saw to it that I had what I needed. Whenever I am in jail he would ensure that my family had the money it needed by selling his rice or jute harvest; he was never stingy in this respect. I showed the man the letter that he had sent to me a few days ago. He had written there, “How many men in this world are as fortunate as I (my father) am?”
I said to myself, “Oh politics! How much verbal abuse I’ve had to endure in this life because of you!” I was a minister for only eleven months. And someone did not hesitate to label me a “thief” because of this reason. I was supposed to have become the owner of a cinema hall in this period. One sepoy even asked me, “The government confiscated Balaka but didn’t it return the hall to you?” I laughed and said, “If the owner of Balaka cinema hears that I’ve become its owner he will surely have a heart attack! He spent a lot of his money to buy the hall from Eastern Federal Insurance Company. If I had even a little share in it I wouldn’t have to work anymore.” The man kept looking at me in surprise and said, “You don’t say! So many people still talk about this!” I said, “Let them; that is our fate; but the people I do my politics for don’t believe such a thing at all.” I thought for a long while, “Such is the way of the world! Mr. Suhrawardy was called a thief; so was A. K Fazlul Haque, Subhas Chandra Bosu as well; even Deshbandhu [honorific meaning “friend of the people”] Chittaranjan Das was called a thief by such Bengalis; why need I be sad when I am put in their company?

4th August 1966 i Thursday Renu had brought along some dishes for me–but how can I have them all by myself? She fried some Koi fish because she knows how fond I am of it. She cooked many other fish dishes as well and chicken roast too-who is going to have all of these dishes? I had some and distributed the rest among the prisoners. They were so happy to have them! Some tell me they have served 7, others 5, still others 3 years in prison, all the time having to eat the same boring food and surviving on it. When it is the season, they have sweet gourds or leafy vegetables that they had planted; in another season it will be another leafy vegetable. And there is of course lentil soup for them all the time. I have a chapar boy serving me here now who is quite witty and is serving a 7 year sentence. He is now in his fifth year as a prisoner but is about to be released. He quipped, “When you can have such delicious food like now I’m willing to stay a little longer here!” The mate said, “I’ve had lentil soup till I have a sandbank in my stomach made of it. I’ve been sentenced to 20 years and have 7 of those years left; now I won’t have to survive on lentil soup any longer.”
Whatever I have, I won’t eat until I can share with them. We have the same principle in our house. In prison they’ll work or cook for me; why, then, won’t they eat with me? Nowadays the new industrialists and businessmen have two different menus in their households-one for the boss and another one for the servants. Even when we had a feudal system in our country, landlords and owners of landed estates did not have such an arrangement in their households. Now that a new civilization based on industry and commerce is emerging out of the ruins of the feudal system, the mental horizon is changing as well; but the new dispensation is much worse in its attitudes than the feudal one!
I am relatively well off as far as comfort is concerned. The ordinary prisoner leads a life that is unbearable. They turn into machines. In addition to the ones working for me I try to provide the prisoners working in my ‘area’ with at least some

food from time to time. I put aside some of my own food and distribute what I’ve saved amongst them. Their faces beam with happiness afterwards.
The ones who have been interned in Cell 26 under the Security Act have been imprisoned for a long time now. Mr. Dhiren has his flower garden there. I believe that there is no more beautiful garden than his in the whole of Dhaka city. I began work on that garden in 1962, at that time it was a garden full of tomato plants. After some time when I was released from that place, they moved in and have been there since that time. I had sent word that I would like to have some rose plant seedlings. They sent me three red rose seedlings this evening. I went to work as soon as I got them; I dug holes quickly then and put fertilizers there too. I found the task of clearing the brick chips left behind extremely trying. But my garden is looking beautiful now. It is really pleasing to view it. This is the work that I do-read books and tend to my garden!
The power of attorney for my defense has come through, after having passed the hands of the 1.B. who censored them. I saw that the document had signatures of not less than 40 advocates. But what a weird system they have of trying cases such as mine in the jail gate. Apparently there will be chaos if they try me in the courts outside the prison. If you are so apprehensive, let me go, and accept the “6 points” demand that we have formulated!
I am supposed to be the violent sort. I believe they feel that I’ll be snatched away from the jail gate. That is why they have 4 fully armed guards stationed in the jail gate. From the British period till the time I was first hauled in, they had one armed guard there. Even in the English period when the revolutionaries would murder the whites, there would be one sepoy posted as a guard; now they, not only have a sepoy but two armed policemen, as well and two Ansars too. They stand in front of the gate all day to guard it. But have no fear; have no fear at all; I’m not into that sort of politics. I’m not going to escape; nor will anyone come to the jail gate to break it.

The Deputy Jailer showed up today. I have run out of puffed rice; the Jamader brought some for me today. The puffed rice that I have has become more popular than I myself am in this prison. Many from the ranks of the guards, sweepers and prisoners steal away when they can to have some of the puffed rice I have!
The Supreme Soviet has appointed Alexi Kosygin the Prime Minister of the Soviet Republic for a second time. Mr. Kosygin has the following allegation to make: “By continuing to attack the Russian leaders, China is supporting the American imperialists.”
I feel that there is some truth in what he says. The Americans will not let this opportunity go by, and must take advantage of a situation where socialist countries keep feuding against each other.
5 August 1966 I Friday The other convicts believe that if I am released they will get the opportunity to be freed. One convict sentenced here who had been freed after serving a sentence of 20 years was back in prison within three years, this time with a 25 year sentence. I inquired and found out that those who had given testimony against him in the murder case were all powerful people. He had been convicted after being made an accused for a robbery and a murder that had taken place somewhere or the other. He swore an oath to the effect that he knew nothing about these incidents. He had got married when he had returned to his village and had decided that as long as he was alive, he would devote himself to his family and not land up in trouble again. When he had been brought to jail the first time and had left her behind, she had got married to one of his cousin brothers. That cousin brother was now afraid that the convict would take revenge on him. That is why he had hatched this conspiracy against him. And there was someone else from Barisal who had served a 20 year sentence here previously. This time he was here on a 25 year sentence.

There were convicts here in Dhaka jail who had been sentenced to 40-50 or even 70 years for all kind of cases for committing robberies and murders. They serve their time in jail laughing away or whiling away their time-“Exhausted by a little sadness, made by a lot of sorrow”.
Many have thus become stone-hearted in this place. They think of it as their home. They will never be able to leave it in their lifetime. Will they survive such a long period of internment? And yet they keep hoping when they get the opportunity they will end up saying, “Sir, You’ll certainly let me go if you come to power you know very well what jail amounts to – and that is why you must release us.” I kept saying to myself “Your hopes will never be fulfilled in this life!”
6 August 1966 I Saturday This day Mr. Ayub will come to East Pakistan to inspect his “colony”. From time to time I hear the sound of the mike inviting people to go to the airport to welcome the “Iron Man” of Pakistan. But I doubt whether they will go there on their own. No doubt they’ll try to hire some people for that purpose. If it is truly one country, why stage this farce where you have to spend millions for a reception? Mr. Ayub understands everything perfectly well. Mr. Moneim Khan has staged such a show to save his job, for he wants to show the world how popular he is. It is only when Mr. Ayub will attempt to ascertain his popularity through a plebiscite that he will understand how hopeless his situation is. I hope he’ll be able to figure out how things really are for him soon enough. This is because if he continues with this policy of repression, torture and indiscriminate arrests, the outcome will no doubt turn out to be disastrous for him. Many keep hoping that he will do something about the Ittefag, but in my opinion Mr. Moneim Khan would not have dared attempt such a massive undertaking without Mr. Ayub Khan’s permission.
They have hauled in two student leaders under the D.P.R. act this very day. One of them is Nur-Alam-Siddiki and the other
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is Qamruzaman of Khulna. They’ve been kept in old cell 20 and have been denied division. Nur-a-Alam is a candidate for the M.A. examination; his exams are scheduled for the coming September
In the evening two more gentlemen were brought to the jail. One of them was brought in just before darkness set in and the other one after lockup. They too have been kept in Cell 20 of Number 4 block. I inquired and found out that one is called Fazle Ali. He had returned to the country three months back with a Chartered Accountant degree. The other person is Alamgir Kabir; he is a journalist who had returned from England nine months ago. I’ve no idea what they did to make the police bring them here but know that they were not involved in politics in East Bengal. If they had ever done anything, I would have known for sure. I have no idea if they did anything when they were in England. They were dressed in the kind of clothes they wear in England. I thought-poor chaps! They will find out soon enough what sort of place they have landed up in. Hell on earth-that is what a Pakistani prison is really like! The Jail people allot only one and a half taka’s food for prisoners all day long. The two men have also been denied division. From where I am I have a good view of them. I had stayed there once, courtesy of Mr. Zakir Hussein. They didn’t bring any spare clothes, beddings or anything else. They are completely new here. They’ll have a tough time. They must have been campaigning for East Bengal when they were in England. They have seen English democracy at work. Now they will be able to witness Pakistani democracy at work! I felt a little sorry for these two.
Mr. Ayub Khan is here. I learnt it from a sepoy today. He must be thundering already!
7th August 1966 I Sunday President Mohammed Ayub Khan is on a six-day tour of East Pakistan. I am amazed at a President who is able to talk in such a manner. Surely he has the government supporters in mind. He
says, “If the people who are trying to create divisions exceed limits, another policy must be adopted to thwart them.” He has also appealed to all citizens to stand up against those men who were trying to foment division and who will not stop at anything in disturbing national unity.
Mr. Afsaruddin, a first class magistrate, has been conducting the trial on behalf of the government. The case went on till 2 p.m.; 5 men were produced to give testimony on behalf of the government. September 10 was fixed as the day for the next hearing. The other witnesses would be produced on that day. Yesterday they brought in a few other men they had arrested in Tejgaon. Fazle Ali and Alamgir Kabir were hauled in under D.P.R. They had been kept in Cell 20 but today they’ve been taken somewhere else. The ones who took them away told me later that they’ve been taken to the old jail house. That is fortunate; these men are new to this sort of life and would have had a hard time here.
I’ve completed three months here today. I finished writing my diary for the day. From tomorrow I’ll write about the minor happenings here.
I’ve been informed that I’ll be tried in another case in front of the jail gate. This one is because of a speech that I gave. Mr. Abdul Malek, a first class magistrate, has issued a notice to this effect. The hearing will begin on 17 September in front of the jail gate.
Sylhet Awami League’s Secretary Abdur Rahim and Advocate Jalaluddin Ahmed, Vice President of the Sylhet Awami League, have all been arrested under the East Pakistan D.P.R. Act. Apparently, while Ayub Khan was touring Sylhet and addressing a meeting, there was an outcry in his presence. Some students and N.A.P workers were among the ones also arrested.
3 September 1966 I Saturday Nurul Islam has been arrested and hauled in. He is a good worker and has sacrificed a lot already; they’ve kept him in the 1.

2 wards. I’ve asked the Deputy Jailer to try and keep him in a better place. The government released Mr. Mohammedullah, Mostafa Sarwar, Hafez Musa, Sahabuddin Chowdhury and Rashed Mosharraf a few days back.
7th September 1966 I Wednesday Renu came to see me. Rehana was ill and couldn’t come. Russel has fever too but he was here. We have a marriage proposal for Hasina. Renu is interested in the proposal. She likes the man. He is a C.S.P. He would like to marry my daughter knowing full well that I am a state prisoner although he is a government official! He surely has strength of character. But my daughter doesn’t want to get married yet. This is because I am in jail and she would like to sit for her B.A. examination. I said to Hasina, “My dear, I’m a prisoner and don’t know how long I’ll have to remain here-nothing is certain. I think they won’t let me go so easily; they’ve filed a number of cases against me. My business is close to being ruined. You’ll have to experience hard times once more. Listen to what your mother has to say.” I said to Renu, “What else can I tell her?” I said once more, “The case is due for hearing on the 10”. Send Akram and Naser here. Let me know how the children are doing.
8th September 1966 1 Thursday I’ve completed four months in prison this day. I’m a prisoner under D.P.R. This troubles me to no end.
16 September 1966 I Friday Rain, rain and rain! It rained all day and all night yesterday. The country is in real bad shape. Floods twice a year; on top of that it’s raining again! I hear that most of Dhaka city is under water. The room I’m staying in is possibly 200 years old. Water is leaking in from all sides. I managed to pass last night somehow or the other. There is only one corner that seems not to be leaking water. All day long I’ve seen waves rippling inside my
room! Three men have been forever busy trying to keep my study dry. There is no way I can get down from my bed. After they were informed, the Head Constable, the Deputy Jailer and the Jailer himself showed up. They said, “How can you stay here any longer? Stay in the four-cell block within the new Cell 20.” 1 said, “That’s inside a cell that has no washroom or toilet in it; how can I stay in such a place? I wouldn’t like to manage somehow with the tin that you’ll provide me then. If you have to transfer me to a better place, you’ll need the government’s permission, won’t you? What does it matter if I can’t sleep well at night? I’ve spent many a night of my life without sleeping. I’ll take what I can. But as political prisoners these days, we are treated much worse than those who are murderers, robbers, and confessors [‘ekrari confessional prisoner who sometime become state witness.] Note that old cell 20 has Mr. Ranoda, Bar-at Law, Babu Chitto Sutar, an ex-M.P., Advocate Abdul Jalil, and the two students-one of whom, Nur-e-Alam Siddique, is due to appear in his M. A. examinations and the other, Qamruzaman, in his B.A. examinations. In addition, you have Shankar Babu there, a veteran political worker who is from Rangpur, and a few others as well. How are they coping? Water always leaks from the ceiling there too. It also leaks through the door; there is only one tin toilet. Cell 7 is in much better condition. You’ve kept some of the confessors under trial too; you could have kept me in other places that are in much better shape. But you won’t do so. I must be given a hard time! You’ve forced me to confront you and force you to give me what is mine by right!”
I imagine a lot of people won’t believe this, but the truth is that an eight-year old boy named Raton has been interned in jail and is still there! He is from Comilla district. His father had left for Tripura district in India. He has two uncles who leave in Pakistan, close to the border. When they were finding it hard in India, his parents had sent him to his uncle. When the war broke out in 1965, his uncle was arrested by the Pakistanis. They had inquired and found out that his father was residing in India and so he, as well as his uncle, was hauled in. But since the uncle was

“Pakistani” he was let off. Ratan is a “Hindustani” to them and so he wasn’t released and is still in jail. One of the prisoners pointed him out to me. He came to my lap and said, “Sir I’ve been a prisoner here under D.P.R. for 10 months now”; who knows how much longer he’ll have to stay here? Should such a young boy remain in this state? Such impossible things have been happening in this country!
Prison Visits Anyone who hasn’t had any experience of jail visits will ever be able to figure out how painful and immensely tragic such visits can be. Only those who have suffered thus can feel a bit of the pathos. Prisoners are allowed to meet their relatives once a week. They have to specify the time of the meeting in an application submitted in the morning. The Jail officials then scrutinize the applications received before granting permission. The names of the people who are going to be visited are shouted out and the letter permitting them to receive the visit handed over inside the jail. Relatives and near ones of the prisoners who have come from afar congregate outside the jail gate from morningregardless of whether they are children, old people and male or female. From 3 p.m. they start calling out the names-10 to 12 people are called at a time. They have to start talking through the same window. The prisoners inside the jail and their near ones outside can barely see each other through the steel net dividing them. They have to end their conversation in 2 or 3 minutes. They’ve to stop looking at each other too. Old parents who’ve come to see their sons, small children who’ve come to meet their father, husbands who’ve come to meet their wives, and wives who’ve come to meet their husbands! Tears and cries can be seen or heard as the prisoners come away from the prison wall. The poor relatives may have come from a great distance, as far as from Patuakhali which is in Barisal, or Mymensingh and Faridpur-only for those few minutes! And yet they would rather come and see how their loved ones are! One can characterize such a visit as farcical. On many occasions a few
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people have to spend some cash to come up to the inner gate so that they can have their meeting there, if only for a few minutes. No one can imagine the mental condition of those involved in such meetings and are then made to turn away from them, unless they have seen such meetings take place, or have experienced the feelings that arise on such occasions. There are many among the sepoys or jail employees who are saddened by such sights; slowly, however, they become steely as machines.
We who have been interned as political prisoners, however, get anywhere between half an hour and a full hour for such visits. We keep talking while the I.B. officers sitting next to us listen to the conversation that takes place then. I feel sad when I see the old parents, wives and the little ones take leave, some in tears and others with their faces all gloomy!

From 19 January to 21 February 1967
New Year finds me in poor health. My eyes were troubling me for a while but I am feeling somewhat better now as far as that is concerned. I had a boil in my leg as well. And at the moment it has become a carbuncle. The trial will take place in front of the jail gate on the 6/7″. I can’t walk and yet I’ll have to show up since the duty physician and the Civil Surgeon don’t have the guts to diagnose me as someone who is unwell. If they displease the government, they’ll be transferred. I said, “Have a stretcher ready for me and I’ll go there.” That the stretcher had been readied made the magistrate apprehensive. But if a trial is held in which I will show up in a stretcher, there’ll be uproar. That is why the magistrate consulted my lawyer, Mr. Abdus Salam, and then postponed the hearing. I won’t be taken to the gate after all. It took quite a few days for the carbuncle to heal. I was in bed for 7/8 days at a stretch.
Renu came on the 11″ with the children. The Eid congregation will be held on the 13″. The children don’t want to have new clothes made for them for this Eid festival. This is because I’ll be in jail then. I said to them, “You must enjoy Eid.
I usually spend this Eid with my parents in their village home and take my children along with me when I go there. My younger brother had come from Khulna to take me there. This is because someone or the other had told him that I would be released before Eid. The older children look glum. They can understand things now. But Russell is still too young to understand the situation. He isn’t well either and has been suffering for a while. Every now and then during visits he won’t let go off me. It’s hard to take leave from him then. I couldn’t say much this time either; all I said was, “Don’t you all worry about

me. I ve had to spend many an Eid in this prison already. Who knows how many more Eids I’ll have to spend here? But please don’t worry; no blow will deter me. God is with me.” As I took leave from them all I said to Renu, “Make sure that you buy everything the children need. Celebrate Eid properly, for else they’ll feel small. Start celebrating by 10 O clock at night-Eid is tomorrow for sure!”
Eid will be celebrated in prison on the morning of the 12th-the government has decreed that this must be the case! Many sepoys and employees of the jail haven’t agreed to end their fasting. But the prisoners must attend the Eid prayer and participate in the Eid rituals. I am told that people in West Pakistan have sighted the moon. If West Pakistan develops East Bengal will! They’ve sighted the moon in West Pakistan and so we must go to the Eid prayers here! But what is the Eid prayer to us prisoners? Nevertheless, I went to the prayer in the end since I would get to meet my fellow workers of the party there. Although we are all interned in the same jail, we party workers and leaders can’t meet each other. I am interned on one side and the rest are in the other. Political prisoners are always sequestered thus. Block 2 is for the workers amongst us. Ruhul Amin, Shahid (Tejgaon) Shafi from Adamji and many others rushed to greet me. The son of my Shahjahanpur colleague, Abdul Kader Bepari, has been hauled in here. His name is Siddique. Apparently, he has printed something or the other in his press that is offensive to the government. N.A.P’s Halim and my nephew Moni have also come from the old prison building, My nephew is interned in the same prison and yet I can’t get to meet him. What kind of justice is this?
Shamsul Huq, Mizanur Rahman Chowdhury, Abdul Momen, Obaidur Rahman, Molla Jalal, Mohiuddin (Khoka), Siraj, Harun and Sultan from Cell 10 were here. We managed to meet. We even talked for a while. They are all Awami League leaders and workers. Only Rafiqul Islam, Bazlur Rahman and Shah Moazzem did not attend the prayer.
Close to where I am are the Chatro League workers Nur-eAlam Siddique, Khulna’s Qamruzzaman, Chatro Union’s Rashed Khan Menon and Awami League’s Nurul Islam. Babu Chittaranjan Sutar is here too. Since my legs were paining I greeted everyone from a sitting position. From my prison 1 wished all the people of our country and my fellow workers a happy Eid. But the people of East Pakistan will truly be able to enjoy Eid the day they are freed from slavery and are really treated as Pakistani citizens. We had to say our Eid prayers today. But no food was sent from my home. This is because since people outside the prison are not in captivity like us, they will observe Eid on the 13th!
On the 13 nearly 90% of the population observed Eid. But the prison made arrangements for the Eid feast on the 12″. Today is the 13th and I’ve learned that Dhaka’s citizens had their Eid today. Jail employees came to meet me. They believe that even though they work for the government they didn’t have to say their prayers at its bidding.
Food was sent our way from Cell 10; prisoners interned under the Security Act who are in Cell 26 have also sent food for us. My wife has sent food for me from my house. What can I do now? I’m all by myself. I’m allotted only five taka a day and I’ve to feed 4/5 people every day with that amount; how can any money be saved then? That is why I myself did nothing. But at 11 a.m. I found out that my wife had sent me food. I sent some of it elsewhere. I let it be known that we will sit together with the political prisoners of Cell 20 for lunch and have our food together. We won’t be bothered about the law this day. That is why I had my bedcover spread on the floor of the cell I am inside so that we could all have food together. I also sent food for the 60/70 convicts who live in the cell area. I had some betel nuts and cigarettes brought for them as well. I also treated the prisoners who came to greet me on the occasion. But I couldn’t give anything to the mad men who are our brothers too and who are interned in Cell 40, for they were 70 in number. The government won’t allow political prisoners to have any money
brought for them. They won’t also allow any fruits or desert to be brought in. Despite this restriction, I’ve decided that some food must be brought in for them. The convicts were fed rice pilaf as well. But when I tasted the dish it didn’t seem to me pilaf cooked with the special rice needed to cook the dish; it was only an improved version of the rice they had regularly. The convicts were supposed to have a special diet this day with money that had been set aside for a long time from what they were supposed to be getting. But what could I say about this? These days money allotted to thieves is stolen by prison employees. When I was jailed on previous occasions, people seemed to have at least some shame. Now no one gives a damn. What is going on is looting; no one is around to watch what is happening. One of the convicts said to me, “Look Sir, we may be thieves, but that’s because we have been driven to thievery by hunger and so have ended up in jail. And see how the jail employees are fattening themselves on the food that they’ve been thieving from us!” I said to him, “Not all of them are thieves.” He replied, “Whoever gets access to foods eats them all up.” It wasn’t difficult for me to figure out who he was referring to.
On the 14″ Renu came to meet me, after being given special permission to do so. She was permitted to meet me on this occasion because of Eid. Everyone outside had celebrated Eid on the 13″. The prisoners couldn’t contain themselves because of the delight they felt because of Eid. And yet Renu had some sad news to tell me. A cousin of mine had died of cancer. He was from Madaripur-my uncle and aunt had died when he was a young boy; it was my father who had educated him. We lived together till his matriculation examination. He had an insignificant job in the Civil Supplies office. He has left behind a number of children. Almost all the land he had has been swallowed up by the River Arial Khan’s erosion. How will his family now survive? The children are all very young. The time passed quickly and soon Renu left with the children. I came back and lay down on bed thinking, “Such is the way of the world!” The night passed but I didn’t feel like having any food. When we
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were young my cousin and I had shared the same bed for 7/8 years. His nickname was Tara Mia.
On the 15h I sent a chicken dish that I myself had cooked to my mad brothers. I did not have the dish and had saved it for them. I wasn’t allowed to go to them even though they lived very close to where I am. I called the Head Constable and said to him, “Please distribute the food yourself.” He did so. They have been my companions for a long time now and so how could I forget them? Even if I tried not to think about them, they would remind me of their presence after dark. That is when they would burst out unprovoked and begin singing weirdly.
There was quite a commotion inside the jail. This is because the I.G. of Dhaka Jail will be coming here tomorrow. The convicts will have to clean up the roads and pathways. They are going to whitewash the walls. Mr. Niamatullah had served as the Superintendent and then the D.I.G of this very prison before becoming the I.G. and everyone knew how infuriated he could be by the sight of garbage. He has excellent manners, is amiable and gentle; he wouldn’t like to see any prisoner having to undergo hardship if he could help it. I myself had been imprisoned twice in this prison when he was serving here. I knew him well. When he was on inspection this time he came to meet me as soon as he heard that I was here. He would always try to find out how all the prisoners were doing. He would look out for me personally. Ordinary prisoners were afraid of him but also revered him. He wouldn’t cause anyone hardship needlessly. He would supervise their dietary needs and the clothes they would wear. He came and sat with me during this inspection. He asked me if I had anything to tell him. I usually don’t say anything much on such occasions since it’s enough that I am allowed to live with dignity. I said, “I am well, my brother, but the political prisoners under D.P.R. are facing difficulties. It would be better to put them all in the same class instead of dividing them into “A”, “B”, “C” since nearly all of them have been put in the “C”
category. How can they survive on one and a half taka allowance and manage to pay for their breakfast, lunch, dinner, tea, etc.? And yet they aren’t allowed to have food sent from their homes. Only 5 taka a month is allotted for newspaper, toothpaste, soap and towel. The newspaper bill alone is 6 taka a month.” But despite his compassion, he won’t be able to do anything, for the government has decreed that this is how things should be.
I pointed out Cell 40, where the mad men are being kept, and said to him, “Look at the state of things inside the jail; how can wretches like us cope with this situation?” Suddenly, his face turned grim and he said, “What can be done though? Where can we keep so many mad men? There is no provision for them!” I said, “Don’t worry! At first it was very difficult. I’m used to them now.” I also told him about the state of the cells. Cell 10, old cell 20, new cell 20, the difficulties political prisoners were havingtalked about all of these things. We also talked about the condition ordinary prisoners were in. He said, “You’ve been kept all by yourself.” I said, “What can you do about that? You have no other option. The big bosses have ordered that this is how it should be and I’ll have to stay thus.” He said, “Let me see if I can do anything about this.” But how will his sympathy make things different? The Big Boss of East Bengal has cast an evil eye on me and my party men. He tries very hard to make things as difficult as he can for me. He took leave from me and left. I concentrated on my reading then.
21″ February 1967 1 8 Phalgun Today is the 21″ of February, Exactly fifteen years ago this day in the Bengali calendar this was the 8″ day of the month of Phalgun in the year 1358, while in the English calendar it was Thursday, 21 February, 1952. A few brave sons of East Pakistan were martyred on this day in attempting to safeguard the honor of the mother tongue. They were: 1, Abdus Salam; 2, Abdul Jabbar; 3, Abul Barkat; 4, Rafikuddin. Many were wounded. Exactly fifteen years ago on this day I was a political prisoner in
Faridpur jail. I was on hunger strike since 16 February that year. In January I had been admitted to Dhaka Medical College for treatment. After consultations with the leaders there, it was decided that we would go on hunger strike from the 16th of February and observe the 21″ of February as the day for establishing Bengali as a state language. I was brought back to the jail hospital before I could be cured. On the 15″ Mohiuddin and I were dispatched to Faridpur jail. Mohiuddin had decided that he would go on hunger strike with me and sent in an application stating his intention.
Fifteen years later on this very day I am a prisoner in a jail once again
The first Language Movement began on 11 March 1948. The leadership was provided then by students from East Pakistan Muslim Chatro League (now the East Pakistan Chatro League) and the Tamuddin Majlis. At 10 a.m. that day Mr. Shamsul Huq and I as well as nearly 75 other students were arrested. In addition, Abdul Wadud and many others were badly injured and arrested on that day as well.
On the 15 of March, Mr. Nazimuddin (then Chief Minister of East Pakistan) had declared after deliberations with the leader of the Language Action Council that a piece of legislation would be enacted that would make Bengali one of the chief state languages. All prisoners would be released and he himself would be investigating incidences of police brutality. That very evening we were released from jail.
On the 16th of March a meeting was held in Dhaka University’s Amtala; I presided over that meeting. It was before the Legislative Assembly that police assaulted students with their sticks and tear gas late in the afternoon. The only thing students were protesting at that time was against Mr. Nazimuddin himself heading any Inquiry Committee and for a Judicial Committee doing so instead. On the 21″ of March, or perhaps a day or two later, Quaid-e-Azam came to Dhaka for the first time. The movement was postponed for this reason. We had started to
organize a reception for him. But he arrived and declared, “Urdu will be the only state language”. Students protested in his presence in that convocation. The Race Course Grounds resounded with protests. All of a sudden he fell silent. Afterwards, and as long as he was alive, he said nothing more about the language issue on any occasion. Every year, the East Pakistan Chatro League observes the 11″ of March as ‘Language Day”. In 1949 the Awami Muslim League (now the Awami League) observed the same day as ‘Language Day’. The Awami League and the Chatro League have contributed the most to the Language Movement. Later, the Youth League joined hands with them.
The same Mr. Khawja Nazimuddin, the Chief Minister of East Pakistan, who had made the pledge in the Legislative Assembly on 15 March, 1948 declared in a public meeting at Paltan Maiden on 26 January, 1952, “Urdu will be the state language”. There was a storm of protests afterwards. I was a prisoner in Medical College Hospital then. In the middle of the night talks were held with the help of Medical College students and after consultations with other political leaders it was decided that the 21″ of February would be “Protest Day”. This was because the Budget Session of parliament was scheduled to start on the 21″. I had begun fasting on the 16th to be free. Kazi Gholam Mahabub, Oli Ahad, Molla Jalaluddin, Mohammed Toaha, Nayemuddin, Najimuddin, Khaleque Nawaz, Aziz Ahmed, Abdul Wadud and many others would meet me in secret during this period.
On the 21″ of February, Mr. Nurul Amin was the Chief Minister. There was police shooting. By sacrificing their lives our brothers established the right of the Bengali language.
This day is thus a sacred day for us. In 1955, the Awami League entered the Central Legislative Assembly with 12 of its members. It was because of their struggle that the West Pakistani leaders were forced in 1956 to make both Bengali and Urdu state languages. When the Awami League came to power
in 1956, the 21″ of February was declared ‘Shahid Dibash’ or the day of martyrdom, and that day was made a public holiday. In 1957-58 the day was observed officially. A plan was adopted to build a martyr’s monument with proper allocation of funding for the project, and construction work had begun, but after Martial Law was decreed in 1958, the day was omitted from the list of public holidays by the government. Work on the monument itself was terminated; the only thing done afterwards was to whitewash it.
From the little cell of the prison where I am being interned I extend my heartiest greetings to Bengal’s youths and the public in general and pray for the salvation of the souls of the martyrs.
Syed Mazharul Huq (Baki), President of the East Pakistan Chatro League, has not been able to leave prison even though he has been given bail. They sent him to the court this morning. But he observed ‘Martyr’s Day’ as soon as he was freed on bail.
25th February 1967 i Saturday One of the 11 cases against me was supposed to be heard today in front of the jail gate in Mr. Afsaruddin Ahmed’s court. Although the argument was scheduled for the day it couldn’t take place. This is because my lawyers Mr. Salam Khan and Mr. Zahiruddin could not be present. Mr. Mohammedullah had turned up and had filed an application and I was present as well. I said to the D.S.P., “I have one other case that is supposed to be heard in the Special Magistrate Court; when will that begin?” He replied, “The government has appointed a new A. D. M. and the trial will start in the jail gate soon.” My lawyer Mr. Mahmudullah has been given notice to produce me before it. He pointed out that the accused was in the custody of the government. If the government wanted to do so it could produce him before the court anytime it wanted to do so.
The hearing that is to take place in Mr. Afsaruddin’s court has been scheduled for 18 March. Whatever is the date, this
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particular case is going to be resolved within the next two months. But a new trial will commence then. I said to the Magistrate, “I am not bothered; what is there to think about for one when there are 11 cases in all? I’ve set myself adrift. “What need I worry about the dew when I’ve lain down in the sea?”
I thought my older son would be here and I’d get to hear about my home. I guess he hasn’t been able to make it. This week they did not give permission for the ‘interview’ to anyone in my home. He must have been denied permission.
15 March 1967 I Wednesday Yesterday I got to meet my children. I didn’t let them know that I haven’t been well; I hid this information so that they wouldn’t worry about me. My prison days keep passing. I’ve no way out except to keep reading the books I have. Newspapers and books! When I open the newspapers all I get to see are speeches by Ayub Khan and Moneim Khan. Mr. Moneim Khan has either a statement or speech of his there every day! In the end Moulana Bhasani has had to concede defeat to Mr. Moneim Khan! Once upon a time the newspapers were full of Moulana Bhashani; now it is Mr. Khan who is all over them. He is the only representative from East Bengal who has been issued his employment letter by Ayub Khan himself.
16th March 1967 i Thursday Apparently, there has been a huge uproar in Pabna about people having to eat maize. Almost three hundred people have been arrested. One man has even died. The ex-minister and Awami League leader, Captain Monsur Ali, President of the District Awami League, and a former M.N.A. Amzad Hossein Advocate, Mr. Aminuddin, the labor leader Advocate Amzad Hossain and many more political and student leaders have been arrested. There is absolute despotism there. They’ve gone to the limits as far as repression is concerned. They’ve gone from house to house to torture people. I still don’t have exact news of what’s happening there though.

17th March 1967 i Friday Today is my 47′” birthday. In 1920 on this day I was born in a little village in East Bengal. I’ve never observed my own birthday myself-at most my wife would present me a little gift on this day. I would try and stay in my own home on these days. I find from the newspaper that the Dhaka City Awami League is observing my birthday. Must be, because I am in jail! That I am someone whose birthday is worth observing and is a news feature made me smile. On the 14 Renu had come with the children to meet me. Will they allow them to meet me again so soon then? My heart was telling me: it would be nice if Renu would show up this day with the children again. On the 15th Renu had come to the jail gate to meet with Moni.
In the morning I woke up to see Nur-e-Alam-he is someone who is interned in Cell 20 which is close by. He had brought some flowers along with him. He said to me, “My gift to you on your birthday!” I accepted his gift with thanks. Then it was Babu Chittaranjan Sutar’s turn to give me a red rose and Babu Shudhangshu Bimal Datta’s to offer me a white rose; the D. P. R. prisoner Mr. Emadullah also presented me with a red dahlia.
I am interned in the Dewani Ward and they are kept in Old Cell 20. I get to meet them from time to time when I am walking and when they too are strolling for their constitutionals.
By the time I finished reading the newspapers it was 4 0 clock. I kept thinking-perhaps there will be a visit after all. Faridpur’s Mr. Santosh stays in Cell 26. He was in a revolutionary party during the British period and had been interned in jail for a long time then. This time he was brought to jail after Martial Law was imposed and has been here for 8 years already. He has spent nearly 17 years in jail after independence! The only time he was free was when the Awami League had come to power. He comes to the jail hospital often; I had not known him previously though. But

we have been imprisoned in the same prison for a long time now. I’ve had to stay in a jail all by myself for a while now and am not allowed to have any political prisoners stay with me. The reason is that they think either I’m going to “spoil” them or they are going to “spoil” me. He has been released from the hospital today and is now going to go to Cell 26. He wanted to take his leave from me from the cell door. I went forward and greeted him. It was 4.30 by this time and I realized that Renu and the children had not got permission to meet me today. Soon it was 5! But just then the Head Constable said, “Come—your wife and children are here!” I put on my clothes quickly and went towards the jail gate. My youngest daughter and Russell were standing there with a garland of flowers in their hands. I put the garland on Russell’s neck instead. He wouldn’t wear it though-he would rather that I wore it on my neck. I took him along with me to the room. I kissed my children. I found out that the City Awami League had sent a huge cake for me. I had Russell cut it although I put a hand in the cutting too. Some of the cake was distributed among the people present in the jail gate. I gave instructions so that some pieces of the cake would be sent to my nephew Moni. I was never allowed to meet him, although we are imprisoned in the same jail! Badrun had sent me another cake. Written on it were the following words: “Mujib Bhai’s birthday!” Badrun had sent the cake through my wife. She would never be able to meet me on her own and would never get the permission to do so. But I kept thinking, “I accept the gift you’ve sent with such affection with gratitude. I’ll never forget you.” My children call Badrun “Aunt”. That is why I said to them, “Convey my thanks and love to your aunt.”
It was 6 p.m. and Renu and the children had to take their leave in a hurry. Russell understands the situation better now and doesn’t want to take me back with him any longer. My youngest daughter feels very sad every time they’ve to leave me behind. I can tell as much by looking at her. I feel sad too but
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there is no way out! Renu is very tight-lipped and will never reveal her emotions.
I returned to my den! I went inside and they locked me in. They’ll open the door again in the morning.
18th March 1967 I Saturday The response to the argument filed in my second trial will be given in the jail gate. I waited from 10’clock, all ready for the proceedings. They came to take me to the Jail Gate Court at 12 noon. When I arrived I found out that Mr. Zahir, Mr. Rab, Mr. Mohammedullah, Abul Husain, Zoha Chowdhury and other lawyers had come and taken up their sits in front of the magistrate
In addition to my relatives, Mostafa Anwar, Chowdhury Nizam, Ali Hussein and our workers were also present. One of the prominent leaders of the Chatro League, Reza, had also come. The Chatro League was in turmoil over an election. I was only able to make this request to Reza: “Save the institution. Don’t break it up. Give everyone my regards.” I had built up this tradition-rich institution with some selfless student workers. The organization had been in the lead in all movements. Its workers had endured all sorts of torture during the “Bengali as the State Language Movement, the “Release All Political Prisoners Movement,” The “Freedom of Speech Movement,” “The Movement for Autonomy”, and other movements for students’ demands. The Chatro League had also spearheaded the “6 points movement for East Bengal” along with the Awami League. If there is any strife within this movement I feel deeply hurt. It was for this reason that I had said to Reza, “Save the organization,”
The proceedings couldn’t be held today though. This is because the prosecuting lawyer hadn’t turned up-he was unwell. I learned that besides the five cases filed against me in Dhaka, charge sheets of six others filed in other districts by the government-Chittagong, Sylhet, Mymensingh, Noakhali,

Pabna, Jessore—had been submitted. In any case, I was prepared for them. The High Court issued an order for the release of Shah Moazzem. One of Chatro League’s workers, Nur-e-Alam Siddique, had got news to the effect that the High Court had ruled that he be released. I asked Advocate Rob about this verdict but he informed me that the High Court had not yet ruled on his case. The young man had become elated, thinking he was going to be freed. He has been detained for eight months now under trumped up D.P.R. charges. He believes that there is only one case against him left in the Dhaka court and he will be able to go out whenever he gets bail. He had said to me, “My father is waiting for me in Dhaka; as soon I am freed, he’ll take me along with him to our home for the Eid festival.” Eid is supposed to be on the 22nd. What will I tell him when I go back to the prison again? I decided that it won’t be right to mislead him. Best to tell him the truth. When I came back to the prison I told him, “You’ve been misled; no verdict has been given in your trial; that will happen after Eid.” His face turned pale. He appeared hurt. And so the hours went by. At eight that night I heard someone call out to me using the honorific, “Mujib Bhai, Mujib Bhai”. I looked out of the window and saw that it was Shah Moazzem. I said to him, “What brings you here?” “I’ve been freed from D.P.R.; since I was an under trial prisoner they’ve taken me away from Cell 10; they won’t keep me with the other D.P.R prisoners anymore. “I asked the Head Constable, “Where will you keep him?” He said, “Where can I keep him at this time of the night? He is to be kept somewhere close to Cell 20.” In other words, close to me. I said, “Do you have your clothes and bedding?” He said, “Enough to go by; food for this night would be coming from Cell 10.” He was not allowed to talk to me but since he was crossing the road in front of my cell how could I seal my lips? I said, “What is there to worry? There are two more cases against you; since you’ve been given bail; you probably will have to wait one or two more days for the others.”

22nd March 1967 I Wednesday
Today when Eid-al-Azha is being observed. I’ll be in jail during it once again. It can be said that to spend any of the two Eids there is a tragedy. One keeps thinking of one’s friends and acquaintances, children and parents during these Eid days all the time.
I didn’t feel like going to the Eid prayer service. What is the point–will prisoners really say their prayers properly? I live all by myself. They won’t allow any political prisoner to stay with me. Can one spend Eid all by oneself? The Jailer issued instructions so that the prayer service would not begin till he brought me to it with him. And so I was forced to go.
Mushtaq has been brought here from Rajshahi prison last May. He had been transferred to Pabna jail from here. Tajuddin is still being interned in Mymensingh jail. Mushtaq, Jalal, Mr. Momen, Obaidur Rahman, Siraj and Sultan have been brought here to say their prayers from Cell 10. Mizanur Rahman and Narayanganj Mohiuddin isn’t here to say their prayers. However, from the old cell Moni, Halim and many others have come. From 1/2 Ward Ruhul Amin, Mr. Protapuddin, Abdus Salam Khan and others have turned up. I was able to meet them all. Mushtaq isn’t well. Nurul Islam from Cell 10 accompanied me to the prayers. He has been brought here from Sylhet jail. He has been cured of T.B.
Shah Moazzem has been released on habeas corpus but is still in prison. There are two more cases still pending against him. He has been given bail in one of them but hasn’t been given bail from the Judge’s Court for the other. He will have to go to the High Court now. Shah Moazzem is a lawyer; I can’t figure out why he hasn’t been given bail.
They’ve sent food from my home. I shared the dishes with Shah Moazzem, Nurul Islam and Nur-e-Alam Siddique. Yes, I’ll have to do justice to the food! Renu must have got up to cook the dishes very early in the morning; otherwise, how was she able to send them all by 12 noon?

After the prayers were over, I was surrounded by hundreds of prisoners. It took me almost half-an-hour to shake hands with all of them!
23rd March to 7th April 1967
This is a holiday for all prisoners! It’s Pakistan Day! In 1940 the Muslim League adopted the Pakistan Resolution in Lahore. The late Mr. Fazlul Haq had tabled this resolution. Pakistan was created in 1947. According to the Constitution adopted in 1956 Pakistan had been declared a republic. The day was declared a public holiday. But because the constitution was not framed in the spirit of the Lahore Resolution, the misunderstandings between the two wings of Pakistan are persisting. In particular, East Pakistan has been converted into a colony. Because of the “6 point” resolution that I proposed on 13 January, 1966, my fellow workers and I have been imprisoned. Ittefaq has been proscribed and its press has been confiscated while its owner-editor Manik Bhai has been imprisoned. For voicing this demand 700 people were arrested on 7 June and 11 people were shot dead by bullets fired by policemen. I can see clearly that our demands will be fulfilled although some more sacrifices will be required. Nowadays politicians keep claiming that the Lahore Resolution isn’t worth anything much. And they say that if East Pakistan is given autonomy Pakistan will be weak. But this can’t mean that the 6 crore people of East Pakistan will be continued to be exploited and their country made a market at the expense of their autonomy. No one can be dominated forever; the bitterness is bound to increase as the days go by. If demands are realized through agitation and people become increasingly bitter as things become worse, the outcome could be catastrophic. Let me present the Lahore Resolution here:
“Resolved that it is the considered view of this session of the All India Muslim League that no constitutional plan would be workable in this country or acceptable to Muslims unless it is designed on the following basic principle, namely, that geographically contiguous units are demarcated into regions
which should be so constituted, with such territorial readjustments as may be necessary, that the areas in which the Muslims are numerically a majority, as in the North-Western and Eastern Zones of India, should be grouped to constitute independent states in which constituent units shall be autonomous and sovereign.’
March 23, 1940 Moved by Late A. K Fazlul Huq
Jute Mill workers have been on strike for the 25th day today. They’ve been striking peacefully. Chaos was deliberately created in Tongi, however, and hundreds of workers were hauled in from there and put into prison. Four have been kept in jail hospital. They’ve arrested 25/30 of them under D.P.R. and all of them have been brought to prison after charges had been framed against them. Abdul Mannan, the Secretary of the Jute Mill Federation, has been arrested and brought here. They have hauled in Hazi Mohammed Danesh, Vice-President of N.A.P., its Secretary Syed Altaf Hossain, Serajul Hossain Khan, and a peasant leader named Hatem Ali Khan. They are being kept in new cell 20. They’ve been charged under D.P.R, and so they can be held without trial. East Bengal is a place where they can go on torturing and firing upon people endlessly!
Ayub Khan came to East Pakistan on 27 March. He went back to the capital city on the 3rd of April. He considers the demand for autonomy a ruse to separate East Bengal from Pakistan. But despite everything he has to say, he’ll have to concede autonomy one of these days. If he doesn’t the outcome could turn out to be disastrous. This is what history has to teach us. Whenever the gentleman comes to Dhaka lacs of taka are spent on giving him a huge reception. It appears then that he is an emperor come here to visit his subjects! His country is West Pakistan and East Pakistan a colony! Thus when he is in Lahore or Karachi he has no gate erected for him and no garlands are distributed there for his reception. Trucks are not filled with hired men to receive him there. He wants to show the world
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how popular he is here though! But he doesn’t want to understand that if an election is held in East Bengal where the people are allowed to vote freely, even his deposit money is going to be forfeited!
The land of East Bengal has given birth to too many traitors and many more will issue from its soil; their number won’t diminish. But they don’t seem to think about the final place set aside assigned for traitors. In particular, the way a section of intellectuals are betraying East Bengal is a sight that is truly astounding. The way they are allowing East Bengal to be exploited for the sake of a petty position or financial rewards is a sight that can’t be seen anywhere else in the world. Six crore people are gradually being beggared. Such men don’t even think about their progeny!
I had learned a few days back that my father is very ill. My brother had brought him along to Khulna for treatment. He is on the way to recovery. My brother has sent a telegram to the government to let me go, if only for a few hours, if it could do so, since my father wanted to see me. He is over 80 years old. He loves me immensely. I’ve no idea if there is a son anywhere who has been loved as much as I have been! My father is totally blind whenever he talks about me. There are six of us siblings. But I am on the one side and the rest on the other. God has given me enough powers of endurance but whenever I hear that my parents are unwell I go crazy. Nothing seems right then. I can’t get to sleep or even eat then. On top of it all, I’m a prisoner at this point. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to survive if anything untoward happens to my father or mother while I am in prison. I’m 47 years old now but even then my parents will hold me by the neck and hug me when I hug them thus. What option do I have now except to call on God?
My elder son Kamal is supposed to appear for his matriculation examination from the 6th of April. I’ve no idea how he has been doing in his examinations.
I don’t usually apply to the government or I.G. directly. I had asked for special permission to seek an interview with my
wife to find out about my father’s state. Today is the 7th and yet no response from them!
I’ve had to serve time in jail on many occasions from 1948 to the present. But I’ve never before seen the kind of behavior that Mr. Moneim Khan has been exhibiting. He has been insulting us without any qualms at all. I didn’t have to deal with such insulting behavior even during the Martial Law period. If God wills I’ll survive this treatment and certainly “meet” Mr. Moneim Khan again when I do!
For the last few days I haven’t been able to get to sleep because of the antics of the mad men. About 40 of them are quartered no more than 80 yards from where I’m interned. And no more than three by six arm length from where my bed is new cell 20 where they have a big gate that they’ve reinforced with iron and tin. When they change guards every two hours the sound that one hears as they check the gates is so awful that I am forced to wake up from sleep. There are days when I can’t sleep a wink all night. On other days I take a sedative to go to sleep. The result of all this is that I often suffer from headaches. I’ve asked the jail authorities to see to it that the sepoys move around as noiselessly as possible. But what can one do with mad men? They won’t be intimidated!
8th April-10 h April 1967 Today the hearings of the responses to the charges in the case filed against me for the speech I gave on 20 March, 1965 in a meeting held in Paltan Maidan ended. Mr. Abdus Salam Khan and Mr. Zahiruddin provided the responses on my behalf. For the prosecution, the state counsel in this case was M. Mesbahuddin Ahmed. The proceedings lasted for almost 4 hours. I had spoken in the meeting on why the government should accept the “6 point demand”. East Pakistan needed autonomy. The country needed a strong defense. In the last Pakistan-India war there was no communication possible between East Bengal and West Pakistan, especially with
Pakistan’s central government. (A copy of the speech will be attached later). The economic disparity between the two parts of the country has to go. And so on. I had supposedly tried to create envy, malice and hatred against West Pakistan. I have chest pain and yet I shouldn’t talk about it! Someone else is picking my pocket and yet I can’t complain against the act! My wealth is being extorted by hook or by crook and one way or the other and I shouldn’t talk about it and not even try to prevent this from happening! West Pakistan has been provided with three capital cities-Karachi, Rawalpindi and Islamabad. And yet one can’t even ask for enough money to prevent the floods from happening in East Pakistan!
The proceedings are being held according to the Defense of Pakistan Act. For giving the same kind of speech a dozen or so cases have been filed against me. There is not enough evidence to try me and they can’t really put me in jail. Even if the lower courts are compelled to give me a prison sentence, the case won’t be able to survive hearings in the Judge Court and the High Court. Many of my colleagues came and I got the opportunity to meet them. Kamal had come too. He told me that he had done well in his examination. My father was undergoing treatment in my brother’s house in Khulna. He is on the mend. However, he hasn’t recovered fully yet. My mother is with him.
I discussed the state of the country as well as two other cases that have been lodged against me with Mr. Salam. Awami League workers and the people of Pabna are being tortured severely. All Awami League leaders and workers have been arrested. Mr. Salam himself had gone to have them released on bail. But he wasn’t allowed to meet those who had been imprisoned.
11th April-13th April 1967 Even though Shah Moazzem had been released from the case filed under the D. P. R. Act, he still hasn’t been given bail in another case, and is having to undergo immense hardship as a
prisoner who has “ordinary” status. The Session Judge didn’t issue bail in the case filed for giving the speech. A plea has been submitted so that the High Court gives bail but it hasn’t come to the hearing stage yet. He was feeling very unhappy and had the feeling that if our fellow workers had put in a little more effort he would have been granted bail. He is being kept in old cell 20. We get to meet from time to time. I try to placate him then. He himself is a lawyer. But he feels that he can expect his fellow lawyers to do more for him.
Where I am is called the Civil Ward. The old cell 40, only 40 arm’s length away, is called the madhouse. 70 of the mad men stay here during daytime and 37 at night. 3 of the cells in Cell 37 are not in use. The last few nights the mad men have been making a lot of noise at night. I don’t sleep during the daytime so that I can sleep well at night. But the antics of the madmen have become unbearable. At times I have to sit out the commotion. What can I say to the jail authorities? There is no other place where they can accommodate the madmen. There is a small field in front of the Civil Ward. It has a few mango trees. I’ve a flower garden there. I don’t feel like leaving this area. Who knows where they’ll keep me next? When I can’t sleep at night I keep thinking I won’t stay in this area anymore. But when I stroll in my flower garden in the morning I forget the agony 1 experienced at night. I place a chair under the tree and read the newspaper or a book then. The morning breeze sweeps away all the sorrow from my mind. Every day around 10 or 11 two yellow birds come. I see them sporting with each other. I think I’ve begun to love them. In 1958 two yellow birds would be here. I still remember the way they used to look. They have been replaced by two other birds now! These are a bit smaller than the ones that were here before.
From 1958 to December 1962 the two birds would come. When I was brought here this time I started looking for them. They were here again at the same time as well. Must be the descendants of the earlier ones! They probably aren’t alive now or perhaps have gone somewhere else. By 10 or 11 my mind
reverts to them automatically. My eyes keep roaming so that I can view them through the trees. I’ve not been seeing them for the last few days. But I keep looking out for them every day. Have they left because they were angry with me? Won’t I able to see them again? I’ll be deeply hurt if they don’t return. How good friends they have become with me is something someone who has never been interned in a prison will ever understand. They’ve left me all alone now. Trees, the yellow birds, the swallows and the crows are my friends in this lonely corner. The few pigeons who’ve taken refuge in my verandah hatch their young ones and then take them away. I don’t let anyone touch them. The sepoys and the head guard won’t say anything to them. They won’t abduct the young ones and sup on them. When they grow up they fly away. For a while the parents feed them with their beaks. Afterwards, when the young ones are able to fly and it is time for the parents to lay eggs again, they chase the young ones away after hitting them. I would look at these happenings in amazement.
But I have been defeated by the crows! A few crows have built their nests in the mango tree right in front of my room. I won’t let them build nests because they mess up my garden with their droppings and keep cawing loudly all the time, disrupting my peace. I’ve built an arrow out of bamboo and made pellets with clay. But the arrows failed to scare them away. Then I made my gardener Kader Mia have their nests dismantled again and again. But they would rebuild their nests repeatedly. They manage to weave iron wires ingeniously with the tree’s branches. It seems that each of them is skilled in such a craft; only God know where they manage to get all the ingredients of their nests from! I’ve had the nests they built in the five mango trees dismantled at least five to seven times and yet they managed to rebuild them every time. Faced with such patience and resilience I decided that I would have to come to a truce with them. I decided to leave three trees aside for them-let them build their nests there. But they then decided to take one more tree for their use by force. I said to Kader, “Let them be. Let them build their
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nests. Let them lay their eggs. This is the time for them to lay eggs—where can they go at this time?” When their eggs were being dismantled I would take my arrows and aim it at them. Frightened, they would retreat a bit and then gather some of their mates to attack Kader when he was amidst the trees. On a couple of days hundreds of these crows would cry out in loud protest. They appeared to be more united than us Bengalis!
Now there are four nests where they have laid eggs. One crow stays in the nest while another will stand guard. Their great enemy is the jackdaw. I’ve even seen the two parties locked in war. What a spectacle! The bigger bird is vanquished at the end. The jackdaw flees from the battle scene then. If Bengalis could unite and stand up against the jackdaw as one, they would surely emerge victorious. The perseverance of those crows defeated me. I feel sorry for them since it was my own home that was broken to make me a prisoner!
For a while the crows would protest whenever they saw me; they would think that I was going to smash their nests. Now they don’t cry out in protest when they see me and don’t pass any resolution condemning me!
On the 13 another hearing began on another case that had been lodged against me in 1964. This too had to do with a speech 1 gave at the Paltan grounds. The government has appointed Dhaka’s A.D.C. Mr. Khan as a Special Magistrate. This one has been filed as a case under section 124A, which is for treason against the state. The Magistrate himself had turned up at the jail gate. I was present as well. Only Advocate Mohammedullah had showed up on my behalf. Zahir, Abul and the others were not able to come. I asked Mohammedullah to file a petition. The case can’t be heard today since all my lawyers have not been able to turn up.
The Magistrate re-fixed 22/4/67 as the date of the hearing and then went away. Two minutes later, Mr. Zahir showed up.
Nurul Islam Choudhury, Mostafa and Kamal had come to see me. Kamal has done well in his examinations. I was looking
forward to this news. My father is getting better. We chatted for a while about this or that and then I returned to my old place. Khondoker Mushtaq has been admitted to the prison hospital. He is very ill. From where I’ve been kept I could see Mushtaq sitting in the hospital verandah. It is difficult to recognize him. The poor thing has been made to suffer so—having been shifted from Pabna to Rajshahi and now to Dhaka jail!
14 April-15th April 1967 On the 14th I was able to meet my children after 15 days. I had sent in an application requesting that I be allowed to meet them on “special permission.” Not only did the D.I.G decline my request, he also felt that there was no need on his part to even respond to it. I hardly apply to anyone for anything since the lack of a response is something that I find insulting but I was eagerly looking forward to hearing news about my father who is ill. I had mentioned this as well. I’ve served my time in jail often but I’ve never met such treatment. Everyone kept consoling me saying “What can be done? It is pressure from up above!” In other words, the big bosses have imposed a ban. But who can believe that the man at the top has prohibited any meeting?
The way things are shaping out nowadays in the government this may well be the case. I’ve no idea whether this is true or not but I am told that Mr. Moneim Khan has issued instructions to the effect that in anything that concerns the Awami League, and in particular me, he must be consulted and permission sought from him. Neither the Chief Secretary nor the Secretary’s permission will do in such cases. They have one law though that allows a meeting every 14 days and I imagine he has been graceful enough not to rescind it in my case! No doubt his order would have put an end to that law too and he has been compassionate in this regard at least! He has prohibited any money or food being sent, and all else, so that political prisoners have a tough time and let go off their
principles, signing a bond afterwards to go outside again. But he is mistaken-these are people who will break but not bend! For their principles, for their ideals and for their country they can leave their children and families and stay inside prison; these are people who are prepared to endure any kind of hardship!
When I reached the jail gate I was surprised to find that my youngest son was not standing outside. When I went in and took him in my lap he hugged me, cried out and said, “Daddy!” “Daddy!” a few times and then went to his mother’s lap and began to say “Daddy!” “Daddy” again. He was calling his mother “Daddy” this time. I said, “What is the matter?” His mother said, “Whenever he is home he calls out “Daddy” “Daddy” and so I told him that he could call me that. Russell now went on saying “Daddy” Daddy”. Whenever I responded he would hug his mother and say, “You are my Daddy.” I think he is upset with me. Now he doesn’t want to take me along with him when it is time for them to leave.
One hour for the visit! Time flew as we talked about family matters, the children’s studies and my parents’ health. Renu said that since the company still hadn’t released my Provident Fund money, managing expenses was becoming a bit difficult for her. I had quit my job last December—four months have gone by and they still haven’t paid up! I said, “Ill send them a telegram from prison. If they don’t respond to it I’ll resort to other expedients. It’s my money and so they must pay up. Manage somehow for the moment. They’ll keep sending rice from our village home, the house is our own, there is still some money in the bank; you’ll manage to see this year through comfortably; we’ll see what happens afterwards. I’ve enough friends who won’t be tight-fisted about loaning me some money.” Renu said, “If things prove to be really difficult we’ll rent out our house and move to a smaller one.” It the government prevents me from doing business the property we have in our village will be enough to keep my parents, Renu and my family in comfort.
Renu said, “You don’t have to worry at all. “And it is true that I’ve never bothered about such things; I am not the type to worry about bearing the load of the family.
There is this government employee who works for one of its divisions that I had come to know well during the Pakistan movement in my Kolkata days. He too was a devotee of Mr. Suhrawardy but is still working. He is originally from Kolkata. He has sent me some sweets with a note requesting me to accept his small gift. I haven’t met him for a while now. He also mentioned that though nearly everyone supported the “6 points” no one dared talk about it. It won’t be right to divulge his identity at this time since he works for a special division of the government. If the government comes to learn that he is communicating with me, he will not only lose his job but might also end up in jail!
Today is the 15th of April-the first day of the New Year in the Bengali calendar. When I woke up in the morning I found that Nur-e-Alam Siddique, Nurul Islam and a few other political prisoners had come from cell 20 to my place with some flowers. They greeted me with roses and wished me a happy new year. From cell 26 hospital my friend Khondoker Mushtaq Ahmed had sent me some flowers as well. I sent flowers with New Year’s greetings to the occupants who live from cell 26 to new cell 20: Haji Danesh, Syed Altaf Hossein, Hatem Ali Khan, Siraj Hossein Khan, and Moulana Sydur Rahman. But I also sent flowers to Mr. Rafik, Mizanur Rahman, Molla Jalal Uddin, Abdul Momin, Obaidur Rahman, Mohiuddin, Sultan and Siraj who are in Cell 10; and to Khandoker Mushtaq Ahmed who is in the Hospital. But I couldn’t send anything to the old prison where Ronesh Dasgupta, Sheikh Fazlul Huq (Moni), my nephew, Halim, Abdul Mannan and the others are living, and also to 1/2 where labor leaders, W.A.P.D.A. officials and a few students have been interned. But I sent messages to them that conveyed my New Year greetings. Within the main jail are many small jails; one prisoner from one jail can’t meet another one from
another jail there. In particular, political prisoners are deliberately strewn all over the prison. After all, they are “enemies of the state”! In late afternoon, Nur-e-Alam Siddiqui, Nurul Islam and Hanif Khan spread out blankets so that a show for the New Year could be put on. Babu Chittaranjan Sutar, Shudhangshu Bimal Dutta, Shah Moazzem and a few other DPR prisoners and convicts turned up for it. I would have to attend, and even though I didn’t have permission to be there, I broke the law for a while and went. A few songs were sung; an ordinary convict sang a few solo songs. He sang beautifully. He is the son of an educated man from a good family and had married someone after falling in love with her. The girl was coerced by her parents into testifying legally to the effect that he had abducted her and he was given a 7 year sentence for this reason. It was a small concert and the boys did a good job of organizing it.
I send my New Year’s greetings to the people of the country from prison.
From cell 10 Mizanur Rahman Chowdhury sent me New Year’s greetings in a scrap of paper where he even managed to scribble down the following poem:
On this new dawn of a new year –
For Mujib Bhai Wherever you are-friend or foe
Please forgive me on this day As you would the lapsed year As you would an old fault! Respectfully, on New Year’s Day Mizan 1 Baisakh, 1374

It was from the previous Baisakh–the first month of the Bengali New Year-that the government went out on an all-out attempt to punish me. Prior to this period, they had filed five cases against me in Dhaka Court. In one of these cases Dhaka’s A. D.
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C. Badrul Alam had handed me a one year sentence but the High Court released me on bail afterwards. The other cases are still being heard. As I was returning to Dhaka on the 3 of Baisakh after a meeting in Khulna, they arrested me on 4 Baisakh in Jessore. Later, I obtained bail and returned to Dhaka.
On the 7th of Baisakh they arrested me and sent me to Sylhet.
On the 8th the District Magistrate decided to ignore my bail petition and sent me to jail.
On the 9th the District Judge let me off on bail. But then they arrested me again in the jail gate and transported me to Mymensingh.
On the 10they scratched my bail petition and sent me off to jail again.
On the 11th of Baisakh the District Judge released me on bail and I returned to Dhaka by car.
On the 24th of Baisakh Tajuddin Ahmed, Khondoker Mushtaq Ahmed, Nurul Islam Choudhury, Zohur Ahmed Choudhury, Mujibur Rahman (Rajshahi) and I were arrested under DPR and interned in Dhaka jail. In Chittagong M. A. Aziz was arrested and imprisoned in Chittagong Jail. And I’ve been in prison from the 24th of Baisakh till now!
16th April-22 April 1967 For some reason my health has been deteriorating again. After a few days of constant headaches I started taking Saridon tablets. Every time I took one I would feel fine for a while but the pain would return and then I would take another tablet. This problem continued for three consecutive days. After the onset of a headache I wouldn’t feel like reading or writing but if I didn’t read or write how could I pass the time?
Today I got the opportunity to talk to Shah Moazzem for a while. He has been released from the case filed against him under D.P.R. But he hasn’t received bail yet, even though he should be getting it in a few days’ time. They’ve kept him in old cell 20. After a month spent like an ordinary convict. he
finally managed to get back “division status two or three days back. Khondoker Mushtaq Ahmed and Mr. Abdul Momin have been admitted to the Hospital. Mushtaq Ahmed is very sick and has lost a lot of weight. But Mr. Momin is dealing with the situation well. I met them outside the Hospital door. The two would like all the parties to unite but not by retracting the demands of East Bengal and are ready for any sacrifice for its sake. Mr. Momin is new to prison life but hasn’t been bewildered by it. He is tough. He has principles; he loves Bangladesh; he will be able to carry on the struggle. Mr. Mushtaq, for his part, has become hardened. He has infinite patience and is firm in his convictions. But he has been given a hard time in jail on this occasion. He has been moved from Pabna jail to Rajshahi jail to the Dhaka one now. But he still has that smile on that we are so used to seeing.
Nurul Islam and Nur-e-Alam Siddique are interned in old cell 20. Even at that slightest opportunity they rush to meet me, upsetting all the sepoys in the process. What can the Head Constables say though? These are young men; they aren’t going to be intimidated by prison regulations beyond a point. I try to calm them down. Nurul Islam has been working for us for a long time. He is quite intelligent. Sometimes I seek his advice. He is very composed. Even though he hasn’t been to the university he has a thirst for learning and loves to read. I am fond of him. He has been with me for almost 10 years now. He will do whatever I’ll ask him to do with a smile. But he is not well-off financially.
Nur-e-Alam Siddique studies in the university. He is good in his studies; he appeared in his M. A. first part examinations in prison and was awarded the second class. He is very young. He has excellent command over the Bengali language. He is an excellent orator. He loves the country. He loves the people of Bengal. He is a bit restless in nature though. That is why he tends to be gregarious but that trait will surely go when he becomes older. He is being tried for writing a book titled Rakta Kapar (“Bloody Pigeons”) and has to appear in court from time
to time. He is very happy whenever he meets other students during his court appearances. His mother is dead. He is his father’s only child. He will mention his parents every now and then. I am very fond of him. Initially, he thought that he would be released quickly but now he has realized that he won’t be freed that easily. Now he keeps wondering how long he’ll have to stay here. One day he said to me, “Boss, what is going to happen to me if they let you off and keep confining me here. They had wanted to transfer him to some other prison but he doesn’t want to be distanced from me. I said, “You must be crazy; I am nowhere near freedom and there is no telling how much longer I’ll have to stay here. And you can be sure you’ll be let off a long time before I am freed. But keep in mind what Thoreau said, ‘Under a government which imprisons anyone unjustly, the place for a just man is also a prison. I am fine myself. Where there is no justice, no fair play, the prison is the best place to be in!
They are all agog about all-party unity. Opposition parties will apparently unite to launch a movement against Mr. Ayub Khan and secure democracy. I’ve no idea who is going to carry on the movement but whenever East Bengal’s demand for selfrule or autonomy is aired everywhere in West Pakistan its leaders, government supporters, or the opposition party there become restless. Who knows if this is another ploy to hoodwink the people of East Bengal?
Today is the 22″. The West Pakistan Awami League leaders Nawabzada Nasirullah Khan, Malik Ghulam Jilani, Ghulam Mohammed Khan Lundakhar, Malik Sarfaraz and Mr. Aktar Ahmed Khan as well as Abdus Salam Khan, Zahiruddin, Moshiur Rahman, Nazrul Islam, M. A. Aziz, Abul Hossein and many others were in the jail gate to meet me. Abdur Rashid from Jessore and Abdul Momen from Khulna were there too. We talked a lot. Could a United Front be formed? Most did not have any objections to forming such a front on the basis of the adoption of a minimum program but no one was willing to give up the “6 point” programs. Even though it was the Awami

League’s program, ordinary people had supported it, had sacrificed their lives for it and gone to prison for it. If these demands aren’t met, there was no way the people of East Bengal would be able to survive. I didn’t express my opinion though; let the members of the Working Committee discuss the issue and find out a way out of the situation on their own. Why should I impose my opinion on them? I’m still inside a prison. They know very well how things are outside it. But if necessary I’ll continue to press for the 6 points entirely on my own. 23. April-27th April 1967 The opposition has become very eager to form a United Front on the basis of a minimum program. Almost all the prominent leaders of the opposition have come here for this reason. Only the N.A.P. leaders have not showed up. A joint meeting of the Pakistani Awami League’s Executive Committee and its East Bengal wing’s Working Committee has been scheduled. The Pakistan Awami League is in favor of a United Front but I hear that the East Pakistan Awami League is bitterly divided over the issue. Every time the Awami League has tried to be part of a United Front or an All-Party Alliance the Party has tended to split up. Its General Secretary, Tajuddin, one of its leading members, Khondoker Mushtaq Ahmed, and I are all in prison. We have been imprisoned for raising the “6 points” issue. To this day the Party’s Publicity Secretary, Abdul Momin, its Cultural Secretary, Obaidur Rahman, its Organizing Secretary, Mizanur Rahman Chowdhury, one of its influential members, Shah Moazem, a member of its Working Committee, Molla Jalaluddin, the City Secretary of the Narayanganj Awami League, Mohiuddin Ahmed, the Office Secretary of the Dhaka city office of the Awami League, Mohammed Sultan, and the Dhaka District Office Secretary, Serajuddin, are all in prison.
The Pakistan Awami League has not come up with even one proposal for our release. Molla Jalal and Serajuddin have been taken to Comilla Jail all of a sudden. I just can’t figure out the situation. What could be the reason that they have been
transferred at this time? Even after they had spent so much time in jail, the government seems not to have been pacified. Jalal’s family members are in Dhaka. Seraj’s parents aren’t alive. He has only one or two friends in the city,
A proposal has been conveyed to me in prison. I went through it and realized that it was nothing but a dodging of the issues involved. How will unity be ever attained unless autonomy is secured through the “6 points”?
I am copying the proposal below so that it is preserved for the future: Nawabzada Nasrallah’s draft: 1. The constitution shall provide for a Federation of Pakistan
with Parliamentary form of universal government, supremacy of legislature, directly elected on the basis of adult franchise, complete and full fundamental rights, unfettered freedom of the press and independence of the
judiciary. 2. The federal government shall deal with the following
subjects(1) Defense (II) Foreign Affairs (III) Currency and Federal Finance (1) Inter-wing communication and trade and such other
subject as may be agreed upon. 3. There shall be full regional autonomy and residuary powers
in regard to all other subjects shall vest in the govt. as
envisaged by the constitution in the two wings. 4. It shall be the constitutional responsibility of the
government of Pakistan to remove economic disparity between the two wings of the country in the course of ten years and within this period to spend all the foreign exchange earned by East Pakistan exclusively in that wing. The foreign exchange acquired by the provinces shall be at the absolute disposal of the provincial governments, after
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allowing for East Pakistan’s proportionate share of the Defense, foreign expenditure and the central liabilities. The government of Pakistan shall also give priority in foreign aid and loan to East Pakistan till economic disparity is removed, and shall adopt such fiscal and monetary policies as would stop the flight of capital from the Eastern wing. For this purpose appropriate legislation shall be enacted from time to time with regard to bank deposit and profits, insurance premiums and industrial profits in particular. Currency, Foreign Exchange and Central Banking, (1) Inter Wing Trade (II) Inter Wing Communication. (III) Foreign Trade
Should each be managed by a board consisting of an equal number of members from East and West Pakistan, 6. The Supreme Court and all departments of central services
including diplomatic services and autonomous bodies shall consist of an equal number of persons from East and West Pakistan. To achieve this parity future appointments should be made in a manner so that the total strength of such
officers be brought at par within a period of ten years. 7. It shall be the constitutional responsibility of the
Government of Pakistan to bring at par the effecting fighting and fire power in the armed services in the two wings of the country and to that end to establish a Military Academy, Ordnance Factories, Cadet Colleges and Schools, raise recruits for the three services from East Pakistan and shift the Headquarters of the Pakistan Navy to East Pakistan to ensure implementation of the above. A Defence Council consisting of equal number of members from East and West Pakistan
shall be established. 8. The Constitution in this declaration means the constitution
of 1956 which shall be promulgated immediately. Within six months of the promulgation of the constitution, General Election shall be held to the Central and Provincial
Assemblies. The foremost business transacts by the National Parliament shall be the incorporation of the changes as spelt out in the preceding clauses into the constitution.
Many leaders of our party have accepted this proposal, but anyone who has reflected on it will surely find out how dodgy it is. They wanted to know my response to it. Personally, I am for uniting the opposition but not at the cost of sacrificing the demands raised by the people.
The East Pakistan Awami League has proposed that the way ahead must be worked out, but my consent to this idea has been sought. Mr. Zahir wanted my opinion in court and said to me that they’ve progressed a great deal with this proposal and that it would be difficult for them to retreat at this point. I’ve told Amena, Aziz, Mostafa and Mr. Zahir that I’ve no objections against the idea of unity, but at first all opposition parties must be included—it won’t do to leave N.A.P. out of the alliance; secondly, the party’s work must not stop; it must continue its “6 points” movement. I told them not to keep me and the colleagues who are in prison-in particular, Khondoker Mushtaq, Tajuddin and myself in any All Party committee. I said, “We’ve come to jail because of our belief in the “6 points” movement. Many people have been shot dead; many of our workers have been imprisoned; we’ll have to value their sacrifice. I won’t be able to betray them in any way. Let these parties forge their alliance and then let’s wait and see what they do next. I have no idea if they are ready for sacrifices. But I have my doubts. I don’t want to obstruct you but if you don’t agree to meet the demands I have listed above, the East Pakistan Awami League won’t join the Alliance.” What can I do though if it does join such an alliance? After all, I’m in jail at the moment!
A verdict on one of the cases against me is to be pronounced on the 27″. This is for the speech I gave on 20 March, 1966 at a meeting held in Paltan Maidan that was organized by the Awami League. Mr. Afsaruddin, a first class magistrate, held court inside
the jail gate to judge my case and decreed that I be given detention for 15 months but without having to do hard labor according to the Defence of Pakistan Acts Section 47.
It was after this sentence was awarded that I had a talk with Zahir. I said to him, “They’ve imprisoned me, but have done so without giving me a fair trial. I don’t know how long I’ll have to be interned but it won’t be possible on my part to betray the people of East Bengal. Do what you think is the best thing to do now. I know that without the “6 points” demands being met these people have no ways of securing their future. For a year now I have been in prison without a fair trial. This is also the case with my colleagues. I’ve discovered that in my absence two factions have been formed. One group won’t come to any kind of compromise without the “6 points” but the others will do so on the basis of a minimum agenda.
I’ve been made a prisoner with “first class” status. I’ll now be given an allowance of two and a half taka a day for my food. I stay by myself and have made my own cooking arrangements. How will I manage? I’ve never had anything without also feeding those who look after me and the ones who cook for me.
They wouldn’t give me bail. From this day I am a convicted prisoner. But under the Defense of Pakistan Act, there is provision for detention without trial even if I am given bail. I’ll have to stay in prison without any provision for bail even when I have been handed a sentence in the Judges’ Court. To me it is all the same. I have been given a two and a half year sentence in another case. This was also for a speech that I gave; the case is still pending in the High Court. They’ve confirmed to me that I’ll have to serve time for a year if I’m not released by the High Court. I can well see that the lower court will be dishing out the same kind of punishment to me in the 6-7 other cases as well. I recited these lines to myself:
Don’t guard me from danger This isn’t what I pray for… Just don’t let me frightened by danger

Our poet-sage Rabindranath Tagore’s words were what I had recalled!
Today is the 27th of April—the fifth death anniversary of Sher-e-Bangla A. K. Fazlul Huq. I was in jail when he died in Dhaka in 1962 as well. He was someone who was rooted in the soil of East Bengal and a man the people of this country held dear in their hearts. Our people had loved him very much when he was alive and continue to love him. As long as this land exists Bengalis will continue to love him. Only a leader or two of Shere-Bangla’s caliber are born in a country in an era. He was the man who tabled the historic Lahore Resolution in 1940 and the Pakistan that we have got this day is the outcome of that resolution. I am reproducing the words of that resolution-“The All-India Muslim League, and by extension the millions of Muslims of this country, demand that in areas where Muslims have a clear majority, such as the North-West Frontier region and the eastern part of India, be restructured; if necessary even by exchanging areas for geographic reasons, and in such a manner that they can be given independent and autonomous states, and so that the contiguous units can attain the status of independent and autonomous units…”
Many of the so-called leaders of our time get upset when you mention the Lahore Resolution to them and start to abuse us as secessionists or toss us in jail so that we can languish there year after year. The day the Pakistan constitution is framed on the basis of the Lahore resolution will be the day when we will be truly honoring the memory of Sher-e-Bangla; that will be the day when his soul will truly rest in peace.
This is what Sher-e-Bangla wrote down about himself for posterity:
In my stormy and chequered life fate has played more than her fair part. The fault has been my own. Never at any time have I tried to be the complete master of my own fate. The strongest impulse of the moment has governed all my actions. When she has cast me down from my high pinnacle, I have accepted her buffets without
complaint. I have my hours of pinnacle and regret. I am introspective enough to take an interest in the examination of my own conscience. But this self-analysis has always been disinterested. It has never been morbid. It has neither aided nor impeded the fluctuations of my varied career. It has availed me nothing in the external struggle which man wages on behalf of himself against himself. Disappointments have not cured me of incradicable romanticism. If at times I am sorry for something I have done, remorse assails me only for the things I have left undone.
-Fazlul Huq From these few words of Sher-e-Bangla we can understand the salient features of his life.
This day is the death anniversary of the man who had tabled the Lahore Resolution. And because I had delivered a speech based on this resolution where I put forward the “6 point demand” I was sentenced to fifteen month in prison without hard labor. It is difficult to understand the workings of God’s power!
28″ April–30 April 1967 After the sentence was passed I returned to the jail. When I came inside it I heard that all the ordinary convicts had been informed about my sentencing even before I had entered the jail. Many asked me: was there no way of countering such repression? Their eyes expressed the pain they felt. One or two of them even burst into tears. I smiled at them and said, “Don’t be so sad. I took this path knowingly. If one loves one’s country and its people, one must be able to endure pain and torture for them.” Convicts are forbidden to talk to us or meet us. Nevertheless, some convicts keep persuading the constables to allow them to come and meet me secretly. They are so full of affection. I can’t figure out why these people love me so much. Even in this stony prison its denizens would like to live with their rights at this time. They too have begun to realize that their country is being subjugated by a ruling clique of one of its regions. All day long prisoners
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have been coming to meet me and express their regret. Alas Bengalis-all you have learned is crying: you seem incapable of doing anything else!
14 days have passed; Renu is supposed to come with the children at four in the afternoon. I was ready to meet them by the time it was four. The sepoy came to fetch me at quarter to five. This day I meet them as a prisoner who has had a sentence passed on him and so I.B. officers couldn’t legally be in the vicinity when we would be talking. But when I reached the meeting spot I saw the I.B. officer there as usual-seated only a little further away than he would be doing normally. He was not sitting in the room in which we were though. If he had come inside this room I would have been forced to expel him. And I would have certainly expelled him! I was able to talk to Renu and my children freely after a long time. Almost ninety minutes! We talked about the house, domestic matters, our village home and many other things. They weren’t intimidated at all because a sentence had already been imposed on me; I could sense that they had understood that this would be my attitude before coming here.
Renu said that she had taken it for granted that I would be punished thus. I was delighted to meet them. The children seemed to be a bit saddened by my sentencing but were trying not to express this feeling. I said to them, “Concentrate on your studies; there is no telling how long they’ll keep me here. But it does appear to be the case that I’ll have to stay here for a very long time. You won’t have to bother about money; your mother will see to it that your expenses are met. I’ve income from some business concerns as well as from my property. I’ve spent almost all my life outside the house or in jail and it is your mother who took care of the family in my absence. I would like to see you grow up as decent human beings. My younger daughter said, “Daddy-it’s been a year already!” I kissed and hugged her. I also said to her, “Who knows how much longer I’ll have to stay here.” I said that I would be appealing. I also asked them to collect the relevant papers and
documents for the cases lodged against me in Noakhali, Sylhet, Chittagong, Mymensingh and Pabna, and to file a case with the High Court so that all these cases could be transferred to the Dhaka Court. It would be good to dispense with the lower court trials while I was still interned in jail. All of these cases had to do with speeches that I had given there.
Renu was listening to all that I was saying. What I was getting now was not enough for the cooking needed for one person. She asked: “Is there anything that you need?” I said, “Let me think about it; if I find that I need anything I’ll inform you later.” Russell kept shifting from my lap to his mother’s one to the table. From time to time he walked on his own. He has become very naughty; he hits Rehana a lot. Rehana said, “Look father-look at what he has done to my face by hitting it!” I said to him, “Do you really hit her?” Russell said, “I do!” I said, “No my son you mustn’t.” He replied, “I certainly will.” He will say whatever he has in mind! Jamal said, “Abba, I am focusing on my studies now.” I replied, “You are such a good son; do keep concentrating on your studies.” It was getting dark and I kissed my children and said goodbye to Renu. I told her, “Don’t worry. There will be tough times ahead. Be ready for anything.
I returned to my cell. The door was locked a little later. I took up a book and began reading it. These days 1 study till 10 O’clock. I had my dinner and went to bed. Some days sleep overcomes me immediately but on other days the cries of my mad brothers penetrate the mosquito net and keep me awake.
As I was reading the newspaper on the 29th morning, the doctor showed up. I said to him, “Bad health and sorrow are my companions here in jail and so what would you like to find out?” At 12 noon I found that Renu had sent a few seers of rice, some lentil, cooking oil, clarified butter, fresh vegetables, tea, salt, sugar, onions, peppers, etc. I was surprised. Division “A” prisoners can have food sent for them only with the permission of the D.I.G. of prisons. I realized that she had asked for such permission and had been granted it. For some time now the
students interned in old cell 20 have been wanting to have the special rice dish called the khichuri. They have been saying this to me repeatedly but I wasn’t being able to respond. But I had managed to save some chicken and eggs. Nurul Islam, Nur-eAlam Siddique and a few others have even formed “the Khichuri Revolution Council”! They must have the dish. Suddenly one day I saw the following words scrawled with news print ink on the jack fruit tree trunk next to my kitchen: “Our demand must be met and Khichuri must be served”! Underneath were the words “the Khichuri Revolutionary Council.” I can recognize Nurul Islam’s handwriting from the poster work that he did; he must have written these words. I called them and said, “Such demands are not permitted! If necessary, follow Mr. Moneim Khan’s footsteps.” We made merry. In between, our talk was even punctuated by the slogan, “We demand Khichuri!”
But I was given the opportunity to serve them Khichuri today. I’ve got all the ingredients now. In the evening I said to them, “Thanks to your Bhabi (“sister-in-law”, a term of endearment) your khichuri has been sanctioned. Tomorrow you’ll be served the dish.
And so from Sunday morning cooking the khichuri dish became my main preoccupation. Renu had sent some eggs as well. By not having them for some time I had managed to set aside a few chickens too. I’m the head chef of this jail and so I worked out the right recipe and decided how to go ahead with the cooking and instructed my cook accordingly. But because excessive water was used the dish turned a bit too soggy. After some clarified butter was added to it, the dish became somewhat edible. The eight prisoners of old cell 20, the men who worked for them, the guards, and the four were among those who were also served the dish. The 8/10 people who are interned near me were also given portions of the dish that was served to all with egg omelets, clarified butter and chicken pieces. When after a shower I sat down to have the dish I realized that what had been cooked wasn’t really khichuri but a spiced up concoction made

out of rice and lentil. But what could be done except to have it? After all, I was the head chef! Shah Moazzem, Nur-e-Alam, Nurul Islam and everyone else said, “Not too bad!” I smiled and said, “You don’t have to say such things just to please me. I’ve had the stuff myself.” In any case, I was able to meet the demand of the Khichuri Revolutionary Council and felt relieved.
In the evening I came to know that Moni had been admitted to hospital because he had fallen sick. He was supposed to appear in his law examinations a couple of days later. But I was soon relieved to learn that I had no real reason to worry.
19 May-2 May 1967 I have learned from the newspapers that some opposition parties have come up with an “8 point” list of demands and formed a United Front. This alliance is being called “Pakistan Democratic Movement” (P.D.M.). I had procured its agenda previously. The agreement to form the alliance has been signed by the Awami League’s Nawabzada Nasirullah Khan, Abdus Salam Khan and Ghulam Muhammed Khan Lundhakar, the Council Muslim League’s Mia Mumtaz Daulatana, Khwaja Khairuddin and Tofazzel Ali, the National Democratic Front’s Mr. Nurul Amin, Mr. Ataur Rahman Khan and Hamidul Huq Chowdhury, Jamati Islamia Party’s Tofaiel Ahmed, Mr. Abdur Rahim and Ghulam Azam and Nizame Islami’s Chowdhury Mohammed Ali, Mr. Farid Ahmed and M. R. Khan.
The 8 Point Plan 1. A Federal Government would be elected through the
parliamentary method. A Legislative Assembly that had been elected on the basis of universal voting rights as per the 1956 constitution would be given importance. Full basic human rights, freedom of the press and of the judiciary branch were to be ensured. The Federal Government is to be responsible for the following: a) Defense. B) Foreign Affairs. C) Currency and the Federal Economy; E) All inter-provincial communications
and commerce, and all other issues that had been agreed
upon on the basis of consensus. 3. Full regional autonomy was to be granted and residuary
rights on all other powers to be handed over to the elected government on the basis of the constitution. It will be the constitutional right of the government to remove all disparity between the two wings. Excluding defense, foreign expenditure, foreign debts, etc. and the proportional share of East Pakistan in these things, the foreign exchange earned in East Pakistan would be spent in East Pakistan. Moreover, all foreign exchange earned would be under the jurisdiction of the provincial government. Till economic disparity between the provinces remained, East Pakistan was to be prioritized in case of all foreign aid received and loans sanctioned. In addition, financial policy should be adopted so that capital could not be transferred from the eastern wing. To achieve this end, appropriate economic policies were to be adopted and bank deposits, insurance premiums and profits from industrial enterprises would be
brought under appropriate laws to attain these goals. 5. In case of a) currency, foreign and central banking; b) inter
provincial trade; c) inter-provincial communication and related issues, a board constituted of equal number of members from East and West Pakistan from among elected representatives of the national assembly would be given all
responsibility. 6. Equal number of people was to be recruited from East and
West Pakistan to the Supreme Court, the Foreign Office and all departments of the central government and in all autonomous bodies. Recruitment to these institutions would be carried out in future to achieve equality between the two
wings within the next ten years. 7. It will be the constitutional responsibility of the Pakistan
government to ensure that the military would be stationed in equal strength in the two wings of the country. To achieve this goal, a military academy, an armaments factory, cadet
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colleges and schools would be set up in East Pakistan. East Pakistanis would be recruited in all three branches of the armed forces; the headquarters of the naval forces would be shifted to East Pakistan. To realize these goals a Defense Council would be formed with an equal number of members from East and West Pakistan. This constitution would be based on the 1956 one. The provisions of this would be implemented as soon as the United Front came to power and elections to the central and provincial governments would be held within 6 months of the implementation. The 2nd and 7th clauses of these points would be incorporated into the constitution in the first meeting of the National Assembly. All branches of the parties involved and related organizations would be pledgebound to achieve these goals.
2nd May-3′ May 1967 I was surprised to see in a newspaper that Syed Nazrul Islam, the Awami League’s Acting President, and Mrs. Amena Begum, its Acting Secretary, have issued a joint statement about signing the “8 point” demand put forward by the United Front. In their statement they raised questions about the Awami League’s presence and about the validity of the signatures given by some Awami League members to the United Front’s Pakistani Democratic Movement.
I also noticed another statement issued by Mr. Zahir. I became deeply worried at these developments. I kept sitting deep into the night. I then took up my pen. I needed to express my opinion. The West Pakistani leaders have had their way. They intended to split the Awami League. Now it has become a prestige issue of the two parties. I was astonished by the proposal put forward by the Pakistan Awami League. In the proposal printed in the May 2 issue of the Pakistan Observer this is what is written:
“The All Pakistan Awami League Working Committee at its meeting in Dacca on April 23 discussed the Six-Point Programme
of the East Pakistan Awami League. On the basis of this programme it evolved a formula in which, besides the restoration of complete democracy in the country, the genuine demands of East Pakistan people were incorporated. This formula was unanimously adopted by the East Pakistan Awami League also as the basis for negotiations with other political parties. I fail to grasp how the legitimate demands of East Pakistanis have been embodied in this “8 point demand”.
3rd May-23rd May 1967 I’ve not been well for some time now. I’ve lost almost 7 seers of weight. Because of piles I tend to lose blood after I have my motion every now and then. I am not being able to look after my own health. I feel weak. I’ve not been given the court order for the last 3 month ruling that I should be here even though the conviction I have had to serve under the Defense of the Pakistan Act ended on 3rd May. I had hoped that I would be given the order on the 4″. I came to the realization that I have been sentenced to prison for fifteen months. I have not been given the court order because I had already been sentenced. Now I am only serving out the sentence. An appeal has been lodged against the sentence. The appeal has also been granted. The issue of bail would be brought up in the hearing scheduled for the 29th in the Dhaka District Judge’s court. If I’m given bail then the government will imprison me again under D.P.R. and will do so without a trial. The Honorable Judge had decreed that the case is going to be heard on the 19″.
I have been issued an order by the High Court stating that Mr. Malek, the First Class Magistrate, has given me unconditional release in one of the cases lodged against me for a speech that I gave. I have been given notice that the appeal made against the verdict is to be heard on the 29th in the High Court Divisional Bench. I’ve sent the court order to Renu so that she can consult our lawyers and have the case argued on my behalf by a competent lawyer. They’ve lodged so many
cases against me for my speeches! I’ve been sentenced in two and have been discharged for one of them; nevertheless, the government wants to appeal even against this verdict! Even if the lawyers arguing my cases decline to accept any fees, the cost of making certified copies and other expenditure incurred will mean that a lot of money will have to be spent for them. Since I have to spend time in prison I myself am not in a position to make any money now. The children are going to find themselves in a difficult situation. But I’ll have to keep contesting these cases; what option do I have in this situation? There must be a limit to the torture inflicted on someone for political reasons; the shamefulness of such actions knows no bounds. Surely people now understand how the government is ready to go to any length to destroy an individual. Surely the government is aware that “he who has nothing more to lose will not be afraid of losing anything else”. I no doubt have one fault-my people love me; they support the “6 points demands; that must be why I am being tortured so. The history of the world bears testimony that whenever an individual has come up with a program for the people and for realizing their rights, they have accepted the program as something that is just. But you can’t suppress such programs through torture. Even if that person is tortured to death the demands raised in them won’t disappear and are bound to be realized in the end. Those who are students of history or are politicians know this to be a fact. I might die in prison but I’ll die with this conviction in me. Our people will surely realize their legitimate demands one day!
Moni has been appearing for his law examinations from the prison hospital; I hear he is doing well in them. Shah Moazzem is in old cell 20 and is next to me. He has been released from High Court D.P.R. but because he hasn’t been given bail for one of the cases against him, he is still languishing in jail. Since both Nurul Islam and Nur-e-Alam Siddique are being kept in old cell 20 I am better off than before. This is because I can talk to them from time to time and even play card games with them

every now and then. However, I am not good in cards. Whenever I am in a bridge game I play awfully. Moazzem is my companion but has a glum face; he doesn’t feel like talking and can’t take this life any more.
If I lie down in the afternoon I can’t get to sleep at night. That is why I spend some time aimlessly after lunchtime. Since I’m all by myself and there is no wall inside they manage to come in. Moreover, I am just a convict now and am no more a political prisoner. Moazzem too is a prisoner undergoing trial. I spend a lot of time chatting with him. Moazzem keeps saying to me, “Mujib Bhai, do write something!” I reply, “Tell me, what is there to write about I have never managed to discipline myself to sit down and write!”
I enjoy the antics of Nurul Islam and Nur-e-Alam Siddiqui a lot. When I am no longer able to play bridge, 1 take up the card game called “bray”. For a few days in succession I ended up having to “bray” since I don’t know this game well. They declared that they were having a tough time because I was so inept at it. But I began to learn the tricks of the game slowly and soon could even make them “bray”! They could no longer triumph over me all the time. But it was almost impossible to make Shah Moazzem “bray”; he lost only once or twice. Now we keep playing bray. In the mornings we study but afternoons we spend playing bray. After lunch we first read newspapers and then play bray. After dusk we are locked inside our rooms. Then we have to spend time in our own cells. Moreover, I am being kept in the Dewani cell. And so when it is dark I take a book and sit down to read it. After I’ve had dinner at ten I head for bed. I sleep if I can but if I can’t I still have to lie down! There is no way I can take a stroll outside at that time of the day.
Renu and the children came to see me on the 17″. Hasina is appearing for her intermediate examinations. She said, “I don’t think I’ll be awarded the first division Daddy but I’ll certainly get a second.” I said to her, “You still have two papers left and so

do concentrate on your studies. I won’t be sad if you get a second though, for you really couldn’t prepare for the examination properly.”
Russell wants to take me home. It’s been a year that I’ve been in jail now. He has grown up a bit. Jamal didn’t come this time; he is in Khulna now. I’ve been told that there is a lot of strife within the Awami League. One of its factions would like to join the Pakistan Democratic Movement but the other won’t agree to anything less than the “6 points”. An extended Working Committee meeting has been scheduled for the 19″. The district and sub-divisional Presidents and General Secretaries have been called to the meeting as well. The acting President and the acting General Secretary have both requested Renu to see that the meeting is held in my house. I told her you can agree to this request only if there is a consensus on the issue. I myself have no objections to having the meeting there.
But it seems unlikely that there will be a compromise on the issue. Even within those of us in prison there is lack of unanimity about it. Tajuddin, Mr. Momin, Obaidur, Shah Moazzem and Moni are not willing to join the Pakistan Democratic Movement without the “6 points” under any circumstance. Khondoker Mushtaq is trying very hard not to split the party. Even though Mizanur Rahman waffles when he is with me he seems to be inclined towards the P.D.M. Rafiqul Islam will say one thing to me in my presence but has sent a different message to the outside world. I don’t know what stance Jalal and Siraj have taken on the issues since they are in Comilla at this time. Tajuddin has sent a message to me from Mymensingh. I don’t know what are the views of Mohiuddin from Narayanganj on the issue. But the student leader Nur-e-Alam, the Awami League worker Nurul Islam, the Dhaka City Awami League’s party worker Sultan, our labor leaders Mannan and Ruhul Amin, have all informed me that they aren’t willing to come to any compromise without the “6 points”. Some leaders of the party are inclined towards P.D.M. but none of the workers want to join it. Manik Bhai
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too is in favor of the P. D. M. which itself has come up with “8 points”. Four leaders of our party-Zahir, Rashid, Mujibur Rahman and Mr. Nurul Islam-have issued a statement declaring that the “8 points” demand is really Awami League’s “brainchild”. Their statement seems to imply that the “8 points is even better than the *6 points”. I can’t concede this point though and that is why I’ve communicated this feeling previously. There is a gulf of difference between the two. The West Pakistani leaders, particularly Moulana Moududi and Chowdhury Mahmud Ali, are trying to hoodwink the people of East Bengal. The “8 points” is no more than an attempt to wean East Bengal away from the “6 points”. I too am for a united movement, but I know very well that these bigwig leaders won’t be anywhere near the action in a real movement.
Moulana Moududi has been on the offensive against me and has been calling me a secessionist. On the 18″ Mr. Zahir, Mr. Syed Nazrul, Moshiur Rahman and Abul Hasan came to meet me. After having extensive discussions with them, I let it be known to them that they couldn’t join the PDM and that the Working Committee could not endorse those who had put their signatures on it. This was because our council had decided that there would be no compromise without the “6 points” in any way. If any other decision had to be taken it had to be approved by calling the council to a meeting. Personally, I believe that it is for the “6 points” that I’ve been jailed and when I’m released I will be joining the movement for its sake once again. I won’t be able to betray those who have shed blood or have been imprisoned for this charter for East Bengal’s freedom. This belief is what I communicated to them later. I even let it be proposed that those who have signed for the PDM should be allowed to return to our fold without being maligned. But if the PDM launches a movement we are willing to cooperate with it-if they want our cooperation that is; let the proposal be framed in this manner though. The proposal was framed accordingly. I saw in the newspapers that

the proposal was approved was in line with my one. It is as follows:
“The meeting of the EPA League Working Committee discussed the 8-point programme of the PDM and resolved that the matter be referred to the East Pakistan Awami League Council for final decision.”
“It is further resolved that pending decisions by the council the East Pakistan Awami League will extend it full cooperation to any movement of the PDM for the restoration of democratic rights of the peoples of Pakistan”.
“The meeting of the East Pakistan Awami League Working Committee reiterates its faith in the six-point programme and will continue the movement for its realization.” After they had attended the Working Committee meeting, Mr. Zahiruddin, Moshiur Rahman, Mujibur Rahman (Rajshahi), Abdur Rashed and Nurul Islam left for Lahore to join a PDM meeting. They too have joined the meeting there. It is not difficult to conclude that they want to become part of PDM. They don’t need the “6 points” anymore!
In Rawalpindi Qamruzzaman, M.N.A., Mr. Yusuf Ali, M.N.A. and Mr. Nurul Islam, M.N.A., all three members of the Awami League, have joined the PDM conference. They had, however, been forbidden to join the PDM without the “6 points”.
NAP won’t join the PDM. Who can carry out any movement effectively without the Awami League and NAP? In the whole country no one except the Awami League and NAP workers has been imprisoned. It is only the workers of these two parties who have made any sacrifices. The workers of these two parties don’t do politics by issuing statements from inside their houses. In a few days’ time it will be proven that there is a huge conspiracy behind the PDM.
The PDM was formed officially after the Lahore meet. Nawabzada Nasirullah has been made its President and Mahmud Ali its Secretary. There is a deep-rooted conspiracy
underlying this move to make the President of the Awami League PDM’s President as well. There is clearly a bid to hoodwink East Pakistan Awami League workers through this move. But I firmly believe that they will fail to do so.
24th May 1967 i Wednesday Today is the 24th of May. The Civil Surgeon was here to examine me since my health has been deteriorating. I imagine the government has been alerted to my condition because the news of my health has been printed in the newspapers. He took my weight and asked me about my piles; I am suffering because of headaches, a backache, gastric and other complications. A few days back, probably 10/12 days ago, he had issued a note so that a specialist physician could come from Dhaka Medical College to examine me. But it is unfortunate that till this day no one has turned up or has been asked to come. They don’t intend to release me. They don’t intend to treat me properly either. I was in fairly good health before. I was capable of working very hard; now I have become weak. I don’t feel like taking walks anymore. I spend my time in my chair or in bed. One morning I felt dizzy and was about to lose consciousness but managed to avoid falling down because there was a place where I could sit down then. I can’t figure out how I have managed to become so weak so quickly. I don’t say anything much about my health to Renu and the children since they will become worried. If my health deteriorates any further how will I be able to spend any more time in prison? Even the slightest sign of illness inside the prison is depressing; one keeps thinking of the worst then. In particular, one keeps thinking of one’s loved ones all the time here. One keeps hoping for the loving care of one’s own people again and again. This must be the way things are—one keeps hoping for the impossible or unattainable at such a time. And so I kept thinking of the thousands of days of my life that I have spent in prison all alone; who knows how many more days I’ll have to spend thus? Nevertheless, I have no regrets; I am undergoing such torture

for my principles and ideals. Throughout the centuries many a leader and sage have sacrificed their lives for their ideals and for truth. They’ve come closer and closer to their deaths thereby. But no one remembers them now. Or if they do, they remember them as traitors. How many young men were hung in this very Bengal by the English who sacrificed their lives thus! Bengalis themselves have tied the noose to these Bengali youths because of the orders issued by the English. They had no regrets at all and exhibited no remorse then. It must be the land of Bengal itself that is at fault! The same Bengalis who’ve made me an accused and have confined and imprisoned me are from this very land and are highly educated people. It is for their children and their descendants that hundreds of my fellow workers as well as 1 have become prisoners. And so many people have sacrificed their lives at the hands of their very brothers! These people too will wake up to the truth one day, although it will be too late then.
I told the Civil Surgeon and the prison physician to make arrangements so that I could be treated properly. I won’t bow my head to these torturers; if need be I’ll die in this very prison. One can’t have sin and piety existing side by side. If I am destined to die in prison, let it be so! I’ll have to die sooner or later in any case. When it is evening I’m locked in and at dawn they unlock the door. How can I keep well under such a dispensation?
25th May 1967 i Thursday This day the D.I.G of Prisons Moulana Obaidullah came to listen to grievances that prisoners might have. He stayed with me for almost half an hour; we discussed many things. I pointed out to him that I wasn’t a political prisoner anymore but a convicted prisoner, and thus completely under the jurisdiction of jail employees. They didn’t have to go by the IB directives in my case anymore. The Moulana said, “The law allows for letters to come and go via the IB But when you have relatives visiting there is no provision for plainclothes policemen to be present.”

I said to him, “The directive you have for lockups at dusk had been extended by the government for political prisoners by an hour. This is something you should follow since now it is so hot that it is impossible to stay locked up inside the room at that time. We had an extensive discussion about the law subsequently. He then said, “I’ll write to the government for permission.”
This government has been adopting all sorts of means to give political prisoners as hard a time as it could. But what is going to happen in this case is something I can anticipate too. It has stopped the publication of the Daily Sangbad newspaper. What civilized government would stop the publication of a 16 year old daily newspaper by withholding permission because it had changed the name of the publisher? And it keeps bragging about democracy, freedom of the individual and the press, and claims that these things exist in this country. I can clearly see that the way this government is going about its business the outcome is bound to be disastrous.
The PDM meeting ended today; a number of resolutions were adopted in it.
27th May-28th May 1967 The Deputy Jailer informed me that the case filed against me under Section 124A would be heard in the jail gate court on the 27″. He also told me I have been given permission to meet my children tomorrow. I am feeling miserable as well as unwell. It is unbearably hot the heat here is stifling. It is always very hot inside a prison in any case. Even if the wind tries, it can’t penetrate its 14 feet high wall!
I had been ready since the morning; who knows when they would summon me? At first I learned that the magistrate was going to show up at 10. Later, I was told he would come at 11. But by the time he arrived it was 12. The sepoy came and said, “Sir, the magistrate is here and everyone is waiting.” I headed for the court as quickly as I could.
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The jail gate is on Nazimuddin Road but I am being kept in the part of the prison that is on Urdu Road and is in the Decree area. It isn’t a small prison. When I reached the court I found that Mr. Salam, Mr. Zahiruddin, Mr. Moshiur Rahman, Mr. Mahmudullah, and Advocate Abul Hossain were already present. A little later Amena and Mostafa showed up too. Ali and other workers from Khulna were there as well. The trial started. Mr. Alim, the government lawyer, was there to conduct the case on its behalf. The man is such a shameless fellow that I can’t even find the right words to describe him. His English is as poor as his Bengali; he lacks the manners to talk to gentle folk. He is on the government’s payroll and so is determined to be dutiful. His only plus point is supposed to be his ability to make his witnesses testify as falsely as they could. He produced three witnesses. The cross-examination is scheduled for later. This case is about the speech I gave at Paltan Maidan in 1964. After the witnesses gave their testimony for ninety minutes the magistrate left the court. My lawyers then sat with me for further discussions.
Mr. Zahiruddin as well as Mr. Salam would like the East Pakistan Awami League to join the PDM. The way the PDM has tabled its resolutions it is clear that no other demands can be made that will be contrary to its “8 points”. In other words, we will have to give up the “6 points”. I was compelled to assert my personal feelings on this issue. I said I am not willing to give up the “6 points”. The day I am released I’ll be in the movement again for the “6 points”. The East Pakistan Awami League won’t be allowed to join the PDM. Let’s see what happens if there is a council meeting on the issue. If the party wants to join it how would my objections matter? There is no telling how long I’ll have to stay here. What is clear to me is that all this is nothing but a conspiracy hatched to foil the “6 points” movement. The leaders of West Pakistan and those who are of the party of exploiters and belong to power groups are behind this conspiracy. Our leaders seem unwilling to understand that this is the case. Nawabzada Nasirullah Khan has said that if the East

Pakistan Awami League doesn’t join the PDM, he will have to resign from the position of the President of PDM. But the fact is that when he became its President, the East Pakistan Awami League had not joined the PDM! I could see that Mr. Zahir and Mr. Salam were not happy with my response. Moshiur Bhai said to me in an aside, “When I was in Lahore I could sense that there was a conspiracy afoot in all this.” He added, “If you don’t join the PDM, I’ll resign from it.”
I told Amena to observe the 7 June event peacefully. There was no need to go on a general strike that day. They should bring out processions and organize meetings though. Everyone stressed the advantages and limitations of their positions in the subsequent discussion.
At half past two I was back in my cell. I took a bath and then sat down with the newspaper after lunch. At five I had to go to the gate once again. Renu had come with the children. Hasina has done well in her examinations. But Renu wasn’t feeling well. She had leg pain and was having problems walking. I told her to consult a doctor. Russell recited for mea mere two and a half year old boy!—and said out loud-“The *6 points’ must be accepted; the struggle will go on-Pakistan Zindabad.” He spoke haltingly, but it sounded so sweet to me! I asked him: “Where did you learn this from? Renu said, “There was a meeting in our house and when our party workers were uttering these words he picked them up.” I said to him, “My child, you don’t have to tread this path anymore! Let your Dad pay for his ‘crime’ and that will be enough for us.” Jamal has come back from Khulna. Rehana now wants permission to go there. I said, “Go when your school is shutdown again for vacation.” Kamal wants to go to our village home to visit my father. I told him, “Go!” How quickly the time passed! And yet in jail time normally hangs heavily on prisoners, except for this one hour where we are allowed to have visitors but which seems to go before you know it. The children took leave and I returned to the Diwani ward—my old haunt. Obaid had gone to the Court and I now met him on the way. I said to him,

“And so what is the news?” Obaid said, “I’ll agree to whatever you’ve agreed to!”
Shah Moazzem and Nur-e-Alam were strolling in the field. They came to me as soon as they sighted me. They asked about my wife’s health. I said, “Since I’ve been unwell she must be feeling unwell too.”
I had to wash my face and hands quickly. They were going to lock me up soon. The constable arrived with his key. Everything had been shut down by this time. I came in and the door was then locked. I had a cup of tea and took up a book
On the 28″ I saw that in the areas under the jurisdiction of the Dhaka, Narayanganj, Joydevpur and Fatulla Police Stations, Section 144 had been promulgated so that the “6 points” Demand Day that we had called on 7 June could not be held. It was clear what they were up to.
There is a movement underway to protest the closure of the Daily Sangbad and the Ittefaq. The government is now going to suppress this movement too. That is what it is aiming for.
Another startling development that attracted my notice today is that all colleges will now have to be approved by the government. This government seems to be exceeding even the English one. Colleges were approved then only by universities. This was the way colleges have been approved since the British period. It isn’t difficult for anyone to figure out the government’s true intentions here. But they are making a mistake-only they don’t seem to understand that. When the knot is tied too tightly it can tear quickly too!
Shah Moazzem is writing a book and he read out extracts from it. He writes well; we talked for a long time when we met today. He will probably be released from prison in 5/7 days when he is given bail. I will be left alone once again then. From time to time he leaves cell 20 to be with me. I would like to see him free. But I will have to spend my days all by myself then in this cruel room built of bricks!

29″ May-31″ May 1967
I see in the newspaper that I have been given bail by the Chief Judge in the very case in which I was given a 15 month sentence by Mr. Afsaruddin at the Jail Gate Court. But the bail papers have not reached the jail gate even today. It is likely that they will be here in a day or two. Then I will be a political prisoner once again. I have served a month’s sentence without hard labor though. Renu had come to the Jail Gate to visit Moni. The children are fine. She had cooked some fish and meat dishes and has had them sent to me from the Jail Gate. I had them for a couple of days after heating them. But I couldn’t have these dishes without sharing them with Shah Moazzem, Nur-e-Alam, Nurul Islam and Chitto Babu as I tend to do always. On this day, however, I also shared my food with others as well. I like sharing my food with everyone very much. I had had enough of jail cooked food this time after having had it for quite a few days in succession. It is good to have a change in diet from time to time. But as a political prisoner I don’t have permission to bring stuff from my home here. However, you can do so if you are a convict. What a strange country and how strange are its laws! Political prisoners even do not have permission to bring in fruits from outside.
What I read in the newspapers hurt me badly. When I read the news I even lost my speech for a while. It is difficult for me to imagine that my friend and colleague Dr. Ghulam Mowla has left this world forever. Dr. Mowla was a physician with M.Sc. and M.B.B.S. degrees. He was practicing medicine in Madaripur on my advice. He was as handsome as he was manly in his looks. He was only 43 years old. I have hardly seen a man as gentle and amiable as he was. He had been elected M.N.A. in 1956 from Madaripur, Noria constituency. During the Ayub regime he had once again been elected a member of the Legislative Assembly in 1962. He did not desert our party even for a single day. The people of his constituency loved him. Regardless of party affiliation, they would respect him for his manners and bearing and loved him as well. He had also earned a good reputation as a
physician. The country has lost a selfless leader of the people. And I have lost an intimate friend and colleague. But I can do nothing except pray to God for him now. Such news is especially difficult to bear in prison life. I kept seeing his face in my mind’s eye. All of us will have to follow your path one day Mowla! Sooner or later we will be there too. I pray to God so that your soul can have eternal peace. 22nd June 1967 i Thursday I saw in the 22nd June newspaper that orders have been issued so that Narayanganj’s Bozlur Rahman, Dhaka’s Harunur Rashid, Tejgaon’s Majedul Huq, Rajshahi’s Mujibur Rahman, Sylhet’s Mr. Jalaluddin, Dewan Farid Ghazi and Serajuddin, Tangail’s Mohammed Ali, Khulna’s Sheikh Mohammed Ali and Chittagong’s Manik Chowdhury could be released. They are all Awami League workers and leaders. Good to see common sense dawning in the government; they have finally started releasing political prisoners; since the process has been initiated it will lead to the freedom of some political prisoners at the very least.
On the 25th Mr. Shamsul Huq, President of the Dhaka District Awami League, was also released. My wife had come to see me along with my elder sister. The moment my sister saw me she burst out crying. I said, “Sister dear, why cry? I really am not in any kind of hardship. And it makes no difference whether one is in or out. Many of the people running this country have no human feelings in them and there can be no question of getting any kindness from them. Don’t worry!”
My eldest sister became a widow when she was 19 years old. She had a little child and had become pregnant again when my brother-in-law passed away. My nephew has grown up now and is a prosperous man with three children of his own. To this day he will not look me in the face as a measure of respect when he talks to me. The day he had come to visit me, he had cried like a baby and had said to me, “Uncle, don’t worry! I’ll take care of aunt and the children so that they have as much money as
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they need.” He is not only well off but also endowed with a large heart.
On the 8″ of February, my two year old son had come to me and said, “Daddy, come home with me! What could I have said to him by way of a reply? I had tried to dissuade him from taking me along with him but he just couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t go or that I was imprisoned. I said to him, “Go to your Mom’s house. Let me stay in my house. And do come to see me again.” But would he be persuaded? How would his feeble strength allow him to take me away from these stony walls that were imprisoning me?
I had become upset at the scene. After all, I am his father and have strong paternal feelings in me. My other children were now grown up enough to understand my situation. But Russell is still not able to figure out the situation I am in. And that is why every once in a while he insists on taking me home!

Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was released from prison after midnight on 17 January 1968. As soon as he came out through the prison gate, army personnel present there arrested him again and made him a prisoner in Dhaka cantonment. At this time since no news of this beloved leader of the Bengali people, Sheikh Mujib, was allowed to be circulated anywhere for a long time, Bengalis began to feel tense, apprehensive and uncertain about the fate of their leader. This memoir was written in Room 10 of the Officers Mess of the Kurmitola Headquarter of the 14th Division Headquarters of the East Pakistani Army where he had been interned because of the alleged Agartala Conspiracy Case. The non-Bengali members of the Pakistan Army kept him under constant guard and vigilance there. After he had spent five months enduring the agony of prison life here, Begum Mujib managed to send him the notebook that he used to write this memoir. This was a notebook printed by Royal Stationery Supply House. It had 320 ruled pages but he was able to write in only 52 of them. In all probability he was not able to continue writing after the proceedings of the Agartala Conspiracy Case began. This is the last of the notebooks that he wrote.

I was spending time in Dhaka Central Jail following my arrest on May 8, 1966 under the Defense of Pakistan Rule (DPR). On the night of January 17, 1968 I had taken my food and gone to bed as usual. They had kept me in the Diwani Ward of the prison. The Publicity Secretary of the Awami League, Advocate Abdul Momin, also imprisoned under DP, was sharing the room with me at that time. He has been put there after I had spent 17 months in solitary confinement. I was happy to have his company.
At 12:00 midnight on the 17th of January, someone or the other suddenly began to call me. When I got up, I found Mr. Tozammel, the Deputy Jailer of the Security Division, standing before me. When I asked him why he had come to me so late at night, he said; “I’ll tell you after I have the door opened and am inside.” After the duty jamadar opened the door, he came in and said, “The government has issued your Release Order and you will be released right away.” Mr. Momin also got up. I said, “That can’t be true. Tell me what the order is all about.” The Deputy Jailer said, “Believe me, we’ll have to let you go. Please bring your belongings along.” I said once more, “What about the many cases filed against me for which no bail has been issued? There is a Custody Warrant from Chittagong and a number of Production Warrants from Jessore, Sylhet, Mymensingh, Noakhali, and Pabna. How can you let me go? That would be against the law.” He said, “Despite those warrants, we can release you if the government orders us to do so.” I asked him to produce the Government Order and he went back to the jail gate to get it.
I said to Mr. Momin, “There must be some sort of conspiracy behind this. It could be a ploy to send me to another jail from

here or something else.” I had lately been hearing of attempts made by certain quarters to implicate me in conspiracy cases’. From December onwards, many military personnel, bureaucrats and ordinary citizens have been arrested under the Public Security Act for sedition. Only Allah knows the truth of the matter in all this.
I first learnt about such conspiracy cases during the Eid congregation. On that day, prisoners from different wards had assembled for prayers. On seeing me, an Awami League worker from Chittagong who had been in police custody for 21 days already, and who had been mercilessly beaten, tortured and maimed during this time, burst into tears. He had been treated for a while in Rajarbagh Police Hospital and then sent back to prison. Embracing me, he had burst into tears and said, “They wanted me to confess that you were involved in a conspiracy; not being able to endure the pain inflicted on me, I was forced to sign whatever they had written down and produced before me.”
I consoled him and said, “Have faith in Allah; whatever is to happen, will happen.” He said to me that he would petition the Government. Fazlur Rahman, a CSP, also tells me that they are trying hard to implicate me in conspiracy cases. A few other members of the armed forces have said similar things to me. One day I came across Mr. Kamaluddin, a retired naval officer, as I walked from old cell 20 towards the jail gate. I said to him then, “I’ve never seen you before; who are you?” He said: “My name is Kamaluddin. The police beat me badly in jail; my whole body has been infected; I can’t even lie down in bed easily anymore; they inserted something into my rectum for which I am suffering from unbearable pain even now; look at the way they have burnt all these spots of my body with their cigarettes. Although I kept telling them again and again, ‘I don’t know Sheikh Mujib,’ they went on torturing me. They forced me to read out and then sign a typed document they had prepared in front of a First Class Magistrate in the Police Line. When I wouldn’t look at it, they tortured me and so I
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had no way out but to read and then sign it. What else could I do, Sir? Nevertheless, I’ll file a Habeas Corpus suit in the High Court and will reveal the truth there.” He did file a law suit later. The newspapers also had published the gruesome story of the torture inflicted on Kamaluddin.
Afterwards I sat down and read the press note issued by the Central Government listing the names of 28 people, including Mr. Ruhul Quddus, CSP, Fazlur Rahman, CSP, along with other civil and military men. I saw the names of three Chittagong Awami League party workers mentioned in it. The press note identifies these 28 people as party to the conspiracy. I said to Mr. Momin that they must have omitted my name deliberately since I have been in prison for the last 17 months. How could the Government have come up with such a blatant lie? He and some other prisoners had come to learn from different prisoners who were on trial in conspiracy cases that they were trying to implicate me. I was being told the same thing through messages conveyed to me from the other jail wards as well.
My wife Renu had warned me, “They are trying to frame you in the conspiracy case. She had gone on to say: “God alone knows what is going to happen to you. Have faith in Allah”. I said, “I am being jailed under the Public Security Act; 11 cases have been filed against me. I have been sentenced to prison under some of them already, but they continue to persecute me. I had no idea that the Six Point was so intimidating for them. The Intelligence Branch (1. B.) and Jail officers would sit down near me all the time and would prevent me from speaking freely to others. I had also not been well and had been admitted to the hospital for a few days. But I didn’t actually have to go to the hospital. I was only shown as admitted there and getting treatment from it; my diet was regulated accordingly. I had lost a lot of weight but had recovered a little. Theoretically, I was still in hospital on the day the Deputy Jailer brought my “Release Order” that midnight.
The Deputy Jailer brought the Release Order and showed it to me. I read it and found that I had been absolved of the charges filed against me under the Public Security Act. Mr. Momin was at first delighted but then realized that there was some secret clause involved here.
Some ordinary prisoners who had been designated to work for me packed my clothes. I asked Mr. Momin to let Renu know that I was being taken elsewhere. I noticed the sad expression on the faces of the Deputy Jailer, the sepoys and the jamadar who had come to fetch me and take my belongings with me. There were no smiles in any of their faces. I had no trouble in understanding that I was going to be put through another trial, and that it would amount to a conspiracy case” lodged against me. As I took leave of him, I said to Mr. Momin, “Perhaps I won’t see you again; you all must work for the welfare of the people of the country, but I have to go. Let God be with you.” I took leave from those who cooked and worked for me, saying that they should forgive me for any offence that I might have committed against them.
I arrived at the jail gate around 1 a.m. I had left my books and food stuff behind. I had said to them as I was leaving, “Keep whatever is yours and send word to my eldest son Kamal so that he can come and collect the rest of my belongings. There was no telling where they would be taking me now.
On coming to the jail gate, I noticed that they had put on quite a show. Military personnel all dressed up in full army uniforms were standing there to “receive” me. As soon as I sat down in the Deputy Jailer’s office, a high ranking officer of the armed forces said to me, “Sheikh Sahib, you are under arrest”. I told him, “No doubt you have an arrest warrant; I’ll be grateful if you show it to me”. He asked a plain clothes officer to read out the arrest warrant. He did so and I found out that I had been arrested under the Army, Navy and Air Force Act. I told him: “Okay, let’s go wherever you want to take me.” The armed forces officer told me not to worry. He said, “Your belongings will be sent to where you will be staying.” I was not given any

written order. Just when the Deputy Jailer was giving me an account of the money I had in deposit here before I left, the Jailer of Dhaka Jail, Farid Ahmed, came towards me with a smile and said, “So we are letting you go!” At first, I became very upset at what this gentleman had said and was going to respond to him sharply. But I ended up saying to him, “No need for you to waste your words thus.” There was no point in being upset with him for I had known him from the time he had been a Deputy Jailer here a few years back. I used to be a prisoner of the state then. Now he is the Jailer of the Central Jail. Everyone knows very well how he tends to behave. For all sort of reasons, all other employees of the prison and the prisoners don’t like him at all. And for sure the man doesn’t know how to behave with people.
I noticed in the jail gate that the lights were on, probably either in the Jail Superintendent or the DIG Sahib’s room; perhaps they were both present there to “release me”! The iron gates of the prison were opened; a car was parked just outside it, and armed forces personnel were everywhere on guard. A Major asked me to enter the car. I entered it and sat down. I had armed guards on both sides while at the front were the driver and the Major. The car travelled via Nazimuddin Road towards Ramna. I lit a pipe and enjoyed the pleasant night breeze, though it was a winter night. I wondered-where could my new place of confinement be! Where was 1 being taken? I had been told nothing. The car headed towards Kurmitola.
I was getting to see Dhaka city after a long time and this was a nice feeling. I paid my respects silently to the departed souls as I went past the graves of Sher-e-Bangla Fazlul Huq, the people’s leader Suhrawardy, and Khawja Nazimuddin. They were all in eternal sleep now but did they ever get to think about the unfortunate people of this country? The car went past Shahabag Hotel and then headed towards the airport. Once we crossed it and entered the Cantonment, I realized suddenly what was going on. I saluted the land of Bengal in my mind and said to it,

“I love you; I hope Mother that my body will find a little space in your soil after I die.”
I thought of a lot of things. I thought in particular of my father and mother; what would happen to them when they came to know of what had happened to me at their age? My father is 84 years and my mother 75 years old now; how much of life did they have ahead of them? Anything could happen to them when they would hear my news; it would upset them very much and they could even pass away because of the shock it would give them. By this time the car had come in front of a house. Some military personnel were guarding the premises. The car door was opened. When I got out of the car, I was taken to a room where three plain-clothed officers were present. Nobody spoke to me and I too stood in silence. After a few minutes, I said, “I am not well; please let me sit down somewhere.” I was then taken to a room next door and allowed to sit. A few minutes later, a gentleman appeared and questioned me “regarding a conspiracy;” I replied I knew nothing about such a thing.
Meanwhile, a well-built and good-looking man had begun to examine my health. He was a physician. He checked my heart and stomach and measured my blood pressure. He then left without saying anything to me and went to the adjoining room. A few minutes later, another officer came and said to me, “Let’s go.” I was taken to another place in a jeep. This was a one-room building. It had a bath, a dressing and a store room attached to it. The room had two beds placed next to each other; one had bedding in it while the other one didn’t. I was told that my belongings had arrived and I should check them out. I made my bed by unrolling the bedding. A uniformed officer named Lt. Zafar Iqbal who was apparently supposed to sleep in the adjacent bed with his revolver with him was there too. He started to play the card game of “Patience”. I sat down on my bed and started to smoke my pipe; no words were exchanged between us. I had no idea where exactly in Kurmitola I was being kept.

In half an hour, the two plainly dressed army men whom I had met earlier showed up again. They asked me whether I was facing any problems. I would have to stay here for the time being. They requested me to have tea; I accepted their offer readily since they had woke me up and since I was still feeling drowsy. The three of us had tea together. I said to them, “I don’t know why you’ve brought me here but you won’t be able to suppress the truth. I don’t know what purpose will be served by torturing me needlessly”. A man, possibly a Major, tried to be funny at my expense and even tried to imply that my wife was involved in the conspiracy. I said to him, “My wife doesn’t care for politics; she has never even been to a party meeting with me; she is busy with family matters and won’t meet people outside the family. She isn’t involved in my political affairs”. I noticed another man, possibly a Colonel, looking at him archly so that he couldn’t say anything more to me. I came to know later that this man was Colonel Sher Ali Baz. He was gentle in his ways and polite in conversation. As he left, Colonel Sher Ali Baz assured me that I would have no problem as far as food and accommodation were concerned. I was really impressed with this gentleman’s manners and I found no malice in his words. I learnt later he was from Peshawar district.
I went to bed. The light was kept on; this would inevitably disturb my sleep. Moreover, I was also quite depressed. Nevertheless, I fell asleep and was late in waking up. The gentleman who was on guard in my room at nighttime left in the morning; now another man called Lt. Wahid Zafar was on duty
The doors and windows of my room had all been shut. The glass on the doors and the windows had been painted red. Since the room had become dark, the lights had to be kept on. The doors would always remain closed. I would have to stay in this very room. I had no idea as to what fate awaited me. How would I pass my time? There were no books to be seen and newspapers wouldn’t be delivered here. The officer assigned to guard me had
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been instructed not to talk to me about anything involving the family, politics or the army. But I suppose if I inquired about the weather he could say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to me! The two of us would have to sit in silence in one room forever. The task assigned to this officer was to keep an eye on me all the time so that I wouldn’t try to escape or commit suicide. I wondered how I would spend my days thus. How long would I have to stay here? Anyone living in these conditions was bound to go mad in the long run. And yet I would have to stay here since “Pathans had got hold of me-I’d have to sup with them regularly”!
Breakfast, lunch and dinner here are served on time. However, chapatti bread is served in both meals. This poses a problem for me. I have dysentery. My stomach is already churning from it.
I learned that I was being kept in an Officer’s Mess. My room was the guest house. I was being given the same diet as the officers were. All the men here are from West Pakistan and they all eat chapatti bread with meat. It is difficult for me to survive on a diet of chapatti bread, meat and lentils though. I have no choice in this case and will have to endure this situation for as long as it goes on. I have only two books with me; the rest I had left behind in the Jail. I had made a mistake in not bringing the other books here. I inquired of the officer gentleman if they had any objection to me reading books. He replied that since they had not been given any instruction on whether I would be given any books to read I could read the ones I had with me. He would go out of the room from time to time. I couldn’t pass time even by counting the ceiling beams as there were no ceiling beams in this room for me to count! The light was always on. I started reading one of the two books on the fall of Sukarno but couldn’t concentrate on it since my mind was all tensed up. All I could I do was smoke my pipe. I kept thinking how awful politics could be and to what length people could go to for the sake of power. No one seemed to have suffered any qualms of their conscience in implicating me in a conspiracy case falsely. I have never believed in the politics
of conspiracy. All my life I have taken part in politics openly. I’ve always said whatever I believed was the right thing to say. I’ve delivered speeches everywhere and have never done anything furtively. I am not aware of doing anything clandestine. I’ve spoken the truth plainly and have been taken to prison for doing so. I’ve never concealed what was in my mind because I was afraid of anyone. I’ve always tried to pursue the path that will be good for the country and will lead to securing the economic and political rights of our people. I’ve taken part in movements time and again so that the people of East Pakistan could get their legitimate rights. I’ve had to go to jail again and again and have been arraigned repeatedly. But I’ve never kept my thoughts to myself knowing full well that I might have to go to prison for doing so. I presented the Six Point Program to our people. I knew that it would affect the interest of the rulers and ruling class and they would strike me and my party workers down and torture and persecute us. 1 knew that they would do their worst to hurt us but did not back away from presenting our demands. I feel sorry to think this day that those who have made me an accused in a conspiracy case know all too well what stuff I am made of. Since I have nothing to do now other than reflect on the situation, I told myself, “Think all you want to but don’t drive yourself crazy.”
I kept thinking of all sorts of things that had happened to me previously. I had no paper or notebook to write on and hadn’t been allowed to have them either. I have a pen but no way of getting paper or a notebook and no permission to have them with me.
Had anyone else been arrested besides me? 28 persons had been hauled in previously. 20/22 of them were being kept in Dhaka Jail. Had they also been brought here? There was no way of knowing. I had no idea where they could be. In addition to the 28 who else had been detained?
A sepoy with a rifle stood guard in front of the room and another one did so at the back. I had no sense previously of what
being in military custody meant. My first day passed in this fashion. The following day a high ranking officer, whom I had not met before, came to my room. He said to me, “Are you facing any problems?” I said, “Please have the windows opened; how else will I stay well?” He issued an order to have the window opened and then left. Other than praying to God in that dark room what else could I possibly do there?
Another officer called Major Naeem showed up that night. All of the officers here are from the Third Punjab Regiment. I was staying in their mess. He had come here from Comilla where he is posted. As was the case previously, after introductions we reverted to silence. I am smoking my pipe more than I used to. I had a few cans of tobacco that might last me a month and a half or so. I thought: how would I get a new supply of tobacco if Renu and the children were not allowed to see me? They might not even know about my whereabouts at this time. And when if they did find out I am here how would they send the tobacco to me? I decided that I would continue to puff away as long as I could; when I ran out of tobacco I would give up smoking altogether. If I could live without my parents, children, wife, friends and relations, why wouldn’t I be able to live without tobacco?
Two days later, a gentleman in plain clothes came to see me in the morning. He told me that in a day or two, first a few officers would come to question me, and then Mr. Rizvi and Brigadier Akbar would meet me. I duly thanked him. He took leave of me and left.
(I’ve finally got a notebook to write in after five months although by this time I can’t recall exact dates and will have to record events as well as my memory allows me to do so.)
The next day, at around 11, two gentlemen came to me. I didn’t know them at all but could tell that they were army officers. They asked me if I knew anything about this conspiracy. Had I met Fazlur Rahman CSP as well as some naval officers in Karachi? Had I assisted the conspirators financially? Did I hold a secret meeting with Mr. Ruhul

Quddus CSP in Dhaka? Did I ask for financial help to assist the Chittagong Awami League worker, Manik Chowdhury? I replied, “I have been a prisoner under the Public Security Act for 21 months now. How can you even think that I could be involved in any politics of conspiracy in such a circumstance? 1 knew nothing and hadn’t given money to anyone. They left and I lay down on the bed after having my food. At night I was informed that Mr. Rizvi and Brigadier Akbar would meet me in the morning. I had already read the two books I had brought along. What could I do now? How would I pass my time? Although I had managed to keep myself fit till now I guess 1 won’t be able to do so anymore.
The next day at 10 in the morning, Mr. Rizvi and Brigadier Akbar came to the mess and sent instructions to the Duty Officer Lt. Wahid Zafar to take me where they were. I was ready by that time. I hadn’t come into contact with sunlight all these days and so I was eager to go out.
It didn’t take me more than a minute to reach the mess. 1 had heard of Mr. Rizvi but hadn’t met him before. After introductions, he sat down with me in the sun. I said to him, “Why have I been implicated in the conspiracy case? You know me and are aware that I don’t believe in conspiratorial politics. I’ve always done what I’ve believed in. I began demanding autonomy in 1949. I’ve been demanding it and talking about it inside and outside the Parliament and the Provincial Assembly. I presented the Six Point Program in 1966 and have published books and delivered speeches on the subject. You’ve detained me and my colleagues and put us in prison under the Public Security Act and have filed many cases against us. I bear no ill will towards Pakistan. I didn’t want to separate one wing of the country from the other since the wing which has the majority of the population needn’t secede from the one with the minority out of fear. There is no precedence in history of such a thing happening. I can see that you don’t intend to allow me to be involved in politics. That’s ok with me, but are you going to deliver a letter of mine to President Ayub Khan? As far as I

know, he doesn’t believe in making people suffer wrongfully.” One of them said, “What can we do if the other accused people implicate you? We were not the ones to have implicated you in this case. Many others have done so. You’ve not only assisted them financially but have also asked others to help them thus.” I said to them, “Whatever will be will be, but do deliver my letter to President Ayub Khan since I don’t want Pakistan to break into two parts. If I wanted such a thing, I would have said so openly. If he so desires, he can intervene since I’ve been in prison for 21 months now. Other than my wife and children, I’ve not been allowed to meet anybody.” They told me that they wouldn’t be able to deliver the letter to him, but if I wanted to say anything that could be recorded in a tape that they would play for the President. I requested Mr. Rizvi to inform my family that I was all right and still alive.
After I had requested Brigadier Akbar to let me have my books, he gave permission to the duty officer to allow me to read more books. He also gave instruction to the duty officer so that I could walk for an hour every evening. Mr. Rizvi said, “I’ll personally go to your house and tell your wife that you are well and are facing no problems.” I said, “If you kindly do so, I’ll be much obliged.” But I would not be allowed to read newspapers since this wasn’t permitted by the law.
They left. I returned to my room and pondered on how human beings could stoop so low out of self-interest. I had heard that in love and politics there is no such thing as “good” or “bad”. I had said to Brigadier Akbar, “Do take note: the people of this country will never believe and can never believe that I can be involved in conspiracies. They know me well and by implicating me you’ll do more harm than good for the country.”
They had shut me in. As I sat in my room I kept thinking how politics had taken a nasty turn. There would be no end to this. They’ve opted to eliminate political opponents by whatever means possible.
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Lt. Wahid had been ordered by Brigadier Akbar to allow me to have books and he had got me one. Major Naeem, the night duty officer, also gave me a book, one of his own. Major Naeem was based in Comilla. He had been brought to Dhaka for a few days to guard and keep an eye on us. Much though I tried to immerse myself in the book, I failed to do so. I managed to read a lot of pages but what I read I didn’t really register. I had to go over those pages again.
I would be taken for a walk when evening had set in. All the lights would be dimmed then. During my walks, I would be flanked by two sepoys on either side; an officer would also walk along with me. I would feel pity for this officer as he had to accompany me silently and could not engage in any conversation with me.
All through the day and night the door would be closed. How can I express how happy I felt when the breeze outside would caress me after I had been confined to my room thus all the time? How delighted I felt at the touch of the cool breeze then! Nevertheless, I couldn’t console myself for long. I would be gripped by anxiety soon after. I gathered from the conversations of the staff here that all of us would be executed through hanging or shot after they had tried us through court martial. Anything is possible in these circumstances. In my mind I tried to prepare myself for any eventuality. I asked an employee, “My brother, can you tell me what the laws of the Pakistani Army, Air Force, and Navy Act are in this case? I myself have no idea. I’m just an ordinary citizen and not a member of the armed forces, so how can I be detained under this Act?” He told me that there is a provision in the Act where any civilian who gets involved with a member of the armed forces in a conspiracy can be so detained. I realized now what situation I was in. He didn’t want to say anything else since they were not supposed to talk to us.
Would the day pass? I had no idea if there were other Awami League workers besides me who had been arrested and brought here. Mr. Rizvi and Brigadier Akbar came to meet me again.

They said I could give them a letter and they would see to it that it was delivered to President Ayub Khan.
I had drafted a letter already. I read it to them. They declined to take this letter until I made some changes in its conclusion. I asked, “All right, tell me what I should write instead.” Brigadier Akbar told me what to write and I did so. Then I wrote the letter afresh and handed it to them. They told me they would go to Rawalpindi and then deliver the letter to the President. They would then let me know whatever the President said to them.
They had forced me to rewrite the last paragraph of the letter. I had no option except to write down what they said since I was afraid that they would do something dishonorable to me. But no good will come to the country by making me an accused in a false case; no one in West or East Pakistan would believe such a thing. People would say that they had implicated me in this conspiracy case so that they could punish me. Ever since I had presented the Six Point Program before the public the government has been torturing me. They have filed 12 cases against me. My colleagues Khondoker Mushtaq, Tajudddin, Abdul Momin, Obaidur Rahman and Nurul Islam and my nephew Sheikh Fazlul Huq Moni as well as many others have been in prison since 1966; cases had also been filed against all of them.
Mr. Rizvi had visited my house and he gave me news about Renu and my family. As proof that he had been to my house he brought along some tobacco for me. He said to me, “Everyone in your house is well. I have told them that you are also fine.” I relaxed a little since nobody knew till then where I was being kept and what condition I was in. Only those who have experienced how horrible it is to spend one’s days and nights all alone in a room will understand what I was going through. The day just won’t pass. There is no way I can go out and walk around. There is no way I can have sunlight touch my body. I have to wash my own lungis, undergarments and shirts and make my own bed. The washer man would take my clothes and return them according to his own sweet will and

would take a long time to do so. I wear a lungi all the time and so have to wash it myself. When I almost ran out of the soap I had for washing clothes, I wondered: what would I do next? I need to clean my vest every day. Where would I get more soap? After my washing soap ran out, I began using my bath soap to wash my vest. One day I asked Major Golam Hossain Chowdhury, who was on duty then and guarding me, “How can I get hold of some washing soap? I have some money and so if you allow me to buy a soap and help me get it, I’ll be much obliged to you.” He then had a soap brought for me. I received it with thanks.
The environs of the place I am in seem to be very frightful. I had no previous notion of what being in military custody meant. Although my accommodation arrangements are tolerable, I have a tough time with the food they serve me. For a long time I have been suffering from dysentery and so how can I have chapatti bread and meat every day? I was having stomach aches all the time. The doctors would come and prescribe medicines but after being well for a few days I would become ill again. One day I said. “I won’t have chapatti bread anymore; please arrange to serve me rice from now on.” After two or three days, they arranged to serve me rice but the meat diet continued. My food was cooked in the Officer’s Mess where everybody was from West Pakistan and would not eat fish.
My days were passing in this manner. But tea would be served three to four times a day. It is difficult for me to survive without tea. At this time Lt. Raja Nasrullah Azad, who was from Azad Kashmir, was assigned to be with me. He was the caring sort and treated me with respect. I was never mistreated by anyone here. Whenever the subject of food came up for discussion, they would say: “What can we do? We serve you what we ourselves take!” They knew I wasn’t feeling well. As there was no badna that I could use for cleansing purposes here, I was having a lot of problems. One day Capt. Wahid arranged for some for me with his own money when I wanted him to get me one.

I didn’t misbehave with anyone either. I had no idea if there were other prisoners being kept in this Mess. Everyone kept their doors closed. The only room I knew anything about was my one; I wasn’t getting any letters from anyone. How were Renu and the children? What were my father, mother, brother and sister doing and how were they? I was spending my days all by myself in this manner. There was no news for me! My health was getting worse day by day. One day an employee said to me: “Don’t keep sitting and lying down all day; keep moving and walking in the space that you have within the room.” His words struck me. Although the room was a small one, I would walk for three hours in all in mornings, afternoons and evenings. Who else but God could help me in this situation? What was happening throughout the country and in the world outside? I had no access to any news at all. I wasn’t allowed to read any newspapers; I wasn’t allowed to listen to the radio and I couldn’t speak to anyone. Spending one’s day thus! I kept telling myself, “You’ve been in prison for 7/8 years by this time and this is the state you are in-imagine the state of the others who have been brought here! How many others have been detained? I had seen 28 names in the PressNote; have they hauled in more people here?
My days just won’t pass. And yet I have to pass them somehow. The books I’ve got are my salvation. I have been kept in the guest room of the Mess. I have no way of knowing whether there are any other wretched prisoners like me here in the Mess. No one tells me anything. They have permission to take me for a walk outside in the evening after they have switched off all lights. All day I looked forward to this moment, As I walked outside, I tried to see if there was anyone else like me around. One day I noticed three doors that were shut; all the other doors seemed to be open. I realized there were perhaps three other unfortunate prisoners here.
In the evening, after the lights were switched off, I used to be taken for a walk in a road outside the Mess area. An officer would walk with me and two army personnel would stand

guard on both sides of the road. No traffic was allowed here and the road would stay closed. After going for a walk here for a few days, I began to wonder: why was 1 being taken outside the Mess premises when there was so much space inside? The way a few people were acting seemed to me to be a cause for suspicion. I also got some information, some people were conspiring to kill me. I would be shot from behind and later it would be said that I had been shot whilst trying to escape. The place where I was being taken for my walks was outside the Mess area; they would thus be able to convince the public or others that I had managed to escape and that was why I had to be shot. I didn’t allow anyone to even suspect that I had seen through this conspiracy and said I wouldn’t go for walks outside the Mess area anymore. I would take my walk inside the premises. The conspirators realized I had seen through their plot. I would only walk in the presence of the officers from this time onwards. I received information later that President Ayub Khan had apparently issued instructions that there should be no physical torture inflicted on me. I let it be known to the employees in conversation that if they laid a hand on me, I would commit suicide. I knew this is a great sin but what choice did I have? I would rather be better they had shot me dead instead of enduring the mental torture they were inflicting on me. Other than a few persons though, almost all members of 3 Punjab Regiment behaved well with me.
Other than the weather, no other topics were discussed when I was around. An officer would constantly keep an eye on me and monitor what I did and how I stayed. Sometimes, one or two plain cloth military officers would come to question me; this was I suppose what they call “interrogation”. I had no idea and knew nothing about this so called “conspiracy case”, but I could gather from discussions that attempts were being made to implicate my wife along with many political leaders and workers, a few C.S.P. officers and police officers and a famous journalist. A few overenthusiastic
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military officers had gone wild and were acting as if the entire responsibility of saving the country was on their shoulders. The faintest of scent was enough for them-what else would they do then except resort to torture? They were all too eager to inflict pain! They assumed that all the citizens of East Bengal were traitors. All ideas and schemes here were imported from West Bengal! Their attitude and thinking seems to be that all businesses, commerce and property in the province are controlled and managed by the Hindus. One or two people have even said to me that Bengalis here are guided by Hindus and are dependent on them. Where this Hindu domination was in evidence is not known to me. Virtually all of the upper castes Hindus have migrated from East Bengal; only some low caste Hindus are left here. Almost all officers of West Pakistan harbor the belief that the people of East Bengal are controlled by Hindus and are dependent on them.
The 14 Division Military Headquarter in Kurmitola is the Headquarter of the East Pakistan Army. Staying here makes one realize that Kurmitola is a Punjabi colony. Bengalis can be very rarely seen here. In the 3 Punjab Mess where I stayed, other than a gardener and a waiter, not a single person was a Bengali. There is no way to get anything Bengali here; we had to eat Punjabi food; the cook too was from West Pakistan. How I am surviving on this food I have no idea! Whatever minimum I have to eat to survive, I force myself to eat. Despite many requests, I have not been able to persuade them to get a Bengali cook for me. According to them, they can’t employ one due to security considerations. A remarkable thing came to my notice now; I didn’t have the “good” fortune previously of living with them for months together in the past. Because I had this “opportunity to stay with them here, I realized they are ready to use Bengalis but won’t trust them; they simply don’t trust us! They suspect everyone, their impression is that everyone is my disciple; deep down we all want to separate from West Pakistan. Will anyone believe that despite being in East Bengal soil all this time, I hadn’t seen a single Bengali face? For five

months, I hadn’t spoken in Bengali with anyone since no one here knows Bengali. They don’t listen to Dhaka Radio but only tune in to Colombo or Delhi Radio to listen to Hindi and Urdu songs. They don’t want to listen to Bengali songs since they don’t understand them. They turn the radio off whenever there is a Bengali song being played there. A Bengali Doctor, a Major Shafiq from Comilla, would come to see me. He would never be allowed to come alone to my room and was always accompanied by the Duty Officer. He would never speak in Bengali and would only talk in English and Urdu. I could tell from his face that he was from East Bengal. He would reply in English or Urdu whenever I spoke to him in Bengali. Losing my patience, one day I said to him, “No doubt you’ve forgotten how to speak Bengali; that must be why you speak in Urdu.” He began to smile shamelessly and even appeared quite shaken. Later, I came to know that he was married to a West Pakistani woman; he has no connections with his family anymore; he is afraid to be identified as a Bengali. If anyone would be seen as Bengali in heart and soul here, all doors of advancement would be shut for him. Since the inquiry to this conspiracy case commenced, the position of the few Bengali officers in the armed forces have become vulnerable; as far as they were concerned, who knew when one could be taken into custody! They spent their days in fear and uncertainty.
There are no Bengali officers or sepoys in the 3” Punjab Regiment. There is only this one Bengali boy in the Officer Mess in which I was kept for doing errands but he was not allowed to come near me. Another person I would see through an opening in the window is the gardener. In other words, there was no way I could speak to anyone in Bengali. Such is my fate-to be in East Bengal and not to be able to speak Bengali! I was finding this situation unbearable and couldn’t endure it any longer. There was no way of getting books written in Bengali here. The small library of the Officer’s Mess probably has no Bengali book in it; all the books there must be in English or Urdu. Major Golam Hossain Chowdhury would

bring me a book or two from the Headquarter Library. This gentleman was also an avid reader. There were perhaps no Bengali books there either. As reading newspapers was prohibited, the question of reading Bengali newspapers didn’t arise. All the officers here are from West Pakistan and they were assigned on duty to me. Bengalis were not perhaps allowed to be assigned on duty to me. Even if there were two or three Bengali officers in other regiments, they wouldn’t be given clearance to come and see me.
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BANGABANDHU SHEIKH MUJIBUR RAHMAN’S
POLITICAL CAREER (1955-75)
1955 On June 5 Bangabandhu was elected a member of the People’s Assembly. In a public meeting organized by the Awami League at Paltan Maidan on 17 June a 21-point manifesto demanding autonomy for East Pakistan was presented. On June 23″ the Executive Committee of the Awami League adopted a resolution stating that failure to give East Pakistan autonomy would make its members resign from the Legislative Assembly. On August 25 Bangabandhu gave the following speech in Karachi at the Pakistani Legislative Assembly:
Sir, you will see that they want to place the word ‘East Pakistan instead of ‘East Bengal’. We have demanded so many times that you should use Bengal instead of Pakistan. The word ‘Bengal’ has a history, has a tradition of its own. You can change it only after the people have been consulted. If you want to change it then we have to go back to Bengal and ask them whether they accept it. So far as the question of One-Unit is concerned it can come in the constitution. Why do you want it to be taken up just now? What about the state language, Bengali? What about joint electorate? What about autonomy? The people of East Bengal will be prepared to consider One-Unit with all these things. So, I appeal to my friends on that side to allow the people to give their verdict in any way, in the form of referendum or in the form of plebiscite.
In a meeting of the Awami Muslim League held on 21-23 October the word “Muslim” was withdrawn and Bangabandhu was re-elected General Secretary of the party.

1956
On February 3 Awami League leaders met the Chief Minister and demanded that the issue of regional autonomy be included in the draft constitution. In a meeting of the Awami League held on 14 July a resolution was adopted opposing any representation of the Armed Forces in the administration. This resolution was tabled by Bangabandhu. On 4 September Bangabandhu led a “Hunger” procession that violated Section 144, demanding food supplies for people. When police fired on the procession in Chawk Bazar, 3 people were killed. On 16 September Bangabandhu was given the responsibility of the Ministries of Industry, Commerce, Labor, AntiCorruption and Village Aid.
1957 In line with the party’s resolution Bangabandhu resigned on 30 May from the ministry so that he could devote himself to reorganizing the organization to make it more effective. From 24 June to 13 July he visited China on an official invitation.
1958 On 7 October Pakistan’s President Major General Iskander Mirza and its army chief President Ayub Khan promulgated martial law, banning all political activities in the country. On 11 October Bangabandhu was arrested; one after another false law suits were filed to put pressure on him then. At this time, he was jailed for fourteen months at a stretch and then freed, only to be arrested once again at the jail gate.
1960 He was freed on this occasion after having successfully filed a writ petition in the High Court on 7 December. He began to work behind the scenes now to organize a movement opposing Ayub Khan and military rule. It was at this time that Bangabandhu established a student organization called the “Independent Bangla Revolutionary Committee consisting of specially chosen student leaders. He formed a nucleus cell of the organization in every district and sub-district of the country.

1962
Bangabandhu was arrested on 6 February under the Public Safety Act. He was released on June 2 when after four years Martial Law came to an end. On 25 June Bangabandhu and other national leaders issued a statement opposing Ayub Khan’s “Basic Democracy”. On July 5 Bangabandhu subjected the Ayub Khan regime to severe criticism in a speech he delivered at Paltan. On June 24 Bangabandhu went to Lahore. Here the opposition parties formed an umbrella organization called the National Democratic Front under the leadership of Shahid Suhrawardy. In October Bangabandhu toured the whole of East Bengal with Shahid Suhrawardy to mobilize public opinion on behalf of the Democratic Front
1963 Bangabandhu went to London to consult Shahid Suhrawardy when the latter was in London for medical treatment. On December 5 Suhrawardy passed away in Beirut.
1964 The activities of the Awami League were revived after a meeting held in Bangabhaban on January 25. A resolution was adopted in this meeting to set up a government elected through parliamentary elections in accordance with the just demands of the people of the country. In the meeting Moulana Abdur Rashid Torkobagish was elected President and Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman General Secretary of the party. On 11 March an All-Party Revolutionary Council was formed under Bangabandhu’s leadership. A committee that would work to prevent all communal riots was also formed under his leadership at this time. After the cessation of the riots Bangabandhu took appropriate steps to initiate a unified movement to oppose Ayub Khan’s governance. However, 14 days before the presidential election was held Bangabandhu was arrested.
1965 A case was filed against Sheikh Mujibur Rahman for treason and for coming up with statements that were deemed offensive by the
government. He was sentenced to one year’s imprisonment. He was released from Dhaka Central Jail subsequently at the directive of the High Court.
1966 In a national conference organized by the opposition in Lahore on February 5 Bangabandhu presented the historic 6 point demands. These 6 points amount to a manifesto of independence of the Bengali people of Pakistan. Bangabandhu was elected the President of the Awami League in its council meeting held on 19-20 March. To mobilize public opinion in favor of the 6 point demands Bangabandhu launched a campaign that took him all across the province. At this time he was arrested repeatedly in Sylhet, Mymensingh and Dhaka. In this year he was arrested eight times in three months. On 8 may when he had just ended delivering a speech to jute mill workers in Narayanganj he was arrested yet again. On June 7 a province-wide general strike was observed demanding release of Bangabandhu and other interned leaders. When police fired on workers in Dhaka, Narayanganj and Tongi Industrial Area, 11 workers, including Monu Mia, were injured.
1968 On January 3 the Agartala Conspiracy case was filed in which Bangabandhu was made the principal accused. Charges were brought against him and 35 Bengali soldiers and C. S. P. officers for conspiring to break up Pakistan. On 18 January he was released from prison, only to be arrested in front of the jail gate. He was then incarcerated in Dhaka cantonment. The whole country now broke out in protest to demand his release from confinement.
On June 19, the proceedings of the Agartala Conspiracy Case began under tight security to indict those accused of sedition against the state.
1969 On January the Central Students’ Revolutionary Council was formed to demand implementation of the six point demands and the eleven point demands. The Central Students’ Revolutionary

Council launched a province-wide students’ movement demanding the withdrawal of the Agartala Conspiracy Case and Bangabandhu’s release from confinement. This movement soon was transformed into a people’s movement. Later, when the agitation continued in defiance of Section 144 and curfews, the police and the East Pakistan Rifles assaulted the masses. This led to many people being killed and/or injured. The movement now turned into mass agitation against the government. The Ayub Khan government then called for a round table meeting on February 1. When it then set out to release Bangabandhu from prison on parole he turned down this gesture. In the face of continued mass agitation, the central government was forced to withdraw the Agartala Conspiracy Case on 22 February and release Bangabandhu and other leaders from captivity. On February 23, the Central Students’ Council organized a reception in Race Course (now Suhrawardy Udyan) for Bangabandhu. The almost 10 lac students who had turned out for the event formally conferred the title of Bangabandhu” or “friend of the people to Sheikh Mujibur Rahman then. Bangabandhu, for his part, gave his full support to the 11 point demands of the students.
On 10 March Bangabandhu joined the Round Table Meeting convened at Rawalpindi by Ayub Khan. He raised Awami League’s 6 points and the Student Federation’s 11 point demands at the meeting and said, “There is no alternative to regional autonomy granted on the basis of the 6 and 11 points if mass agitation is to be ended.” When the ruling class of Pakistan and its politicians continued to ignore the demands made by Bangabandhu he withdrew himself from the Round Table Conference on the 13″ of March and returned to Dhaka on the 14″ of the month. On the 25 of March Ayub Khan was forced out of power in a military coup and Martial Law was promulgated. General Yahya Khan then took over the reins of power. On the 25th of October Bangabandhu went to London on an organizational tour.
On the 5th the death anniversary of Shahed Suhrawardy, Bangabandhu formally renamed East Bengal as “Bangladesh” in a meeting of the Awami League. He said, “At one time attempts were made to erase forever from the pages of the map and the heart of
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this land the name “Bangla”. Except for the Bay of Bengal, the word could not be found in any usage of anything that had to do with the country… On behalf of the people of Bangladesh I now declare that the eastern province of the country will no longer be called “East Pakistan”; from henceforth it will be known as “Bangladesh”.
1970 On 6 January Bangabandhu was re-elected as the President of the Awami League once more. The Executive Committee of the Awami League decided in a meeting held on April 1 to take part in the elections that were to be held that year. In a speech delivered on June 7 at the Race Course Maidan he called on the people of the country to elect the Awami League to power on the basis of the 6 points. On 17 October he chose the boat as the electoral symbol of his country. He also launched his party’s election campaign in Dhaka’s Dholai Khal then. He addressed the nation in a radio and television address on October 28. In it he called on his people to elect the candidates nominated by his party to enable them to implement the 6 point demands.
In a devastating tropical storm that hit the coastal regions of Bangladesh on 12 November 12 lac people lost their lives. As a result Bangabandhu cancelled his election campaign and rushed to the storm-affected parts of the country. He also decried the indifference of the Pakistani colonizing regime to the sufferings of the masses and protested against their inaction. He urged the international community to provide relief to the people affected by the storm. In the elections held on 7 December Awami Lleague won by an overwhelming majority. Of the 169 seats allotted for East Pakistan in the Pakistan National Assembly the Awami League managed to win in 167 of them. In the Provincial Assembly elections it won 288 of the 300 seats.
1971 In a meeting held in the Race Course Maidan on January 3 Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib conducted the oath-taking ceremony of the members of the National Assembly elected from the Awami League. These elected members of the party pledged themselves to
come up with a constitution and work for the masses on the basis of the 6 point demands. On January 5 Mr. Zulfiquer Ali Bhutto, the leader of the party that won the majority of the seats in West Pakistan, declared that he had agreed to form a coalition government at the centre with the Awami League. In a meeting of the elected members of the National Assembly Bangabandhu was elected the leader of the parliamentary party. Mr. Bhutto came to Dhaka on 28 January for discussions with Bangabandhu. But the discussions were terminated after three days of inconclusive meetings. On 13 February Yahya Khan convened the opening session of the National Assembly in Dhaka on March 3. But on February 15 Bhutto declared that he would lead a boycott of the National Assembly meet in Dhaka. He demanded instead that power be handed over to the leaders of the two parties that had won a majority of the seats in their own provinces.
In a statement issued on 16 February Bangabandhu criticized Bhutto’s demands severely. He said: “Mr. Bhutto’s claims are totally unwarranted. Power must devolve to the Awami League since it is the party that has won the overall majority. The power is now to be handed over to the people of East Bengal since they have the right to it.”
On March 1 Yahya Khan declared that the meeting of the National Assembly would be postponed for an indefinite period. As a result, the whole of Bengal broke out in stormy protest. Under the leadership of Bangabandhu, the Awami League’s Executive Committee meeting resolved that on March 3 a country-wide hartal would be observed. After the general strike was observed on that day Bangabandhu demanded to the President that power be devolved to the winner of the national election immediately.
To the innumerable people who had assembled at the Race Course Maidan on 7 March Bangabandhu made the following declaration: “This struggle is the struggle for freedom; this struggle is the struggle for independence; Victory to Bengal!” In this historic speech the Father of the Nation, Bangabandhu, called upon the masses to break the shackles that had been imposed on them and declared: “Build a fort in every home. With whatever you have you must confront the enemy… Since blood has been shed already

more blood would have to be shed. But the end, by the grace of God, will be the freedom of the people of the country.”
He also called upon all to be ready to build up the maximum level of resistance possible against the enemy. He urged everyone to join the noncooperation movement to be launched against the government of Yahya Khan. On the one hand, there would be directives issued then from General Yahya, and on the other, directives would be issued by Bangabandhu from his Dhanmondi Road 32 residence. However, the people of Bengal would only follow his directives. Offices, courts, banks, insurance companies, industries, vehicular traffic, schools and colleges-all of the people in them would do what he would direct them to do. The kind of noncooperation movement that was launched at Bangabandhu directives and the unprecedented support the people of Bengal gave to it is historically quite unique. In effect, from March 7 to 25, Bangabandhu led the country as if it was an independent nation. On 16 March Mujib and Yahya met to discuss the issue of the handing over of power. Bhutto came to Dhaka to join in the discussions. Mujib, Yahya and Bhutto continued their meetings till March 24. But the talks collapsed on March 25. That evening Yahya left the country. On the night of the 25th the Pakistani Army launched a bloody assault on unarmed and innocent Bengalis. It attacked the University of Dhaka, the headquarters of the Rifles Regiment in Peelkhana, and the Police Headquarter in Rajarbag.
At 12:20 a.m. on the 26th of March Bangabandhu issued the declaration of independence of Bangladesh:
This may be my last message from to-day Bangladesh is free! I call upon the people of Bangladesh wherever you might be and with whatever you have to resist the army of occupation to the last. Your fight must go on until the last soldier of the Pakistan occupation army is expelled from the soil of Bangladesh and final victory is achieved.
This declaration was transmitted throughout Bangladesh via wireless, telephone and telegrams. In addition, Bangabandhu sent the following message in Bengali as well:
The Pakistani army has launched a sudden assault on the Peelkhana E.P.R. base; it has attacked the Rajarbagh Police Lines; a

battle is now raging in the streets of the city. I appeal to the nations of the world to help us. Our freedom fighters are combating the enemy heroically to liberate their motherland. It is my appeal to them to combat them till the last drop of your blood has been shed to liberate Bangladesh. I appeal to all the members of the Police, the East Pakistan Rifles, the soldiers of the Bengal Regiment and Ansars to join us in our efforts. There can be no question of compromising. We will win for sure. Drive out the last enemy soldier from our holy motherland. Communicate this message to all Awami League leaders and workers and to all the patriotic and beloved people of the country. Let God bless your efforts. Joi Bangla-Victory to Bengal!”
Bangabandhu’s message was transmitted under special arrangements that very instant to all parts of the country. Along with people from all walks of life, Bengali jawans and officers built up resistance in Chittagong, Comilla and Jessore cantonments. Pakistani army soldiers arrested Bangabandhu from his Dhanmondi Rd 32 house at 1:30 am. They took him to Dhaka cantonment; three days later he was taken in captivity to West Pakistan.
In a speech that he gave on 26 March General Yahya Khan banned the Awami League, characterizing Bangabandhu as a traitor in it.
On 26 March, M. A. Hannan, a leader of the Chittagong Awami League, read Bangabandhu’s declaration of independence on Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra (The Radio Station of Independent Bangladesh). On 10 April, a revolutionary government that had Bangabandhu at its head was formed. On the 17th of that month the members of the Bangladesh government took their oaths in Meherpur’s Boidnathtola (Mujibnagar). Bangabandhu was elected its President, Syed Nazrul Islam its Acting President and Tajuddin Ahmed its Prime Minister. After the successful conclusion of the liberation war conducted by the Bangladesh government in exile, on 16 December the Pakistani Army surrendered their arms in the historic Ramna Race Course Maidan. Bangladesh now became an independent nation. But in September Bangabandhu was tried secretly in a Pakistan jail at Feisalabad (Lyallpur) for treason and was handed the death sentence after being pronounced a traitor. Various countries and
freedom-loving people of the world, however, demanded security for him in prison. On the 27th of December the Bangladesh government insisted that he be set free unconditionally as the father of the nation and as its President. India, the Soviet Union and various countries and international agencies also called upon the Pakistani government to free Bangabandhu since he was now the President of an independent country. He was, moreover, the founder of Bangladesh. Pakistan, therefore, had no right to contine him any longer. By that time, many countries had already recognized Bangladesh.
1972 Because of the pressure applied on Pakistan internationally, the Pakistani administration was compelled to free Bangabandhu on 8 January. Zulfiqer Ali Bhutto now met him. Bangabandhu was taken to London that very day. On 9 January he met the British Prime Minister, Edward Heath. En route to Dhaka, he took a stopover in Delhi. The President of India, V. V. Giri, and its Prime Minister, Mrs. Indira Gandhi welcomed Bangabandhu there.
When the father of the nation, Bangabandhu, reached Dhaka on 10 January he was given a memorable welcome. He went directly from the airport to Race Course Maidan where he addressed the nation and delivered a tear-filled speech on the occasion to its citizens. He took over the responsibilities of the Prime Minister on 12 of the month. He went to India on February 6 at the invitation of the government of the country. The University of Dhaka withdrew the expulsion order it had issued on him in 1949 at around this time. He went on a tour to the Soviet Union on 28 February. At Bangabandhu’s request, the Indian Allied Forces left Bangladesh by February 15.
On May 1 Bangabandhu declared increases in the wages of 3 and 4″ class government employees. On 30 July Bangabandhu had to undergo an operation in London to have his gall bladder removed. After recovering from his surgery, he went to Geneva. He was awarded the Julio Curie Prize on 10 October by the World Peace Council. On 4 November he announced that the date on which the first general elections of Bangladesh would be held
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would be 7 March 1973. He gave his signature so that the first constitution of Bangladesh could be approved on 14 December. He declared that the government would give awards to the freedom fighters of the country on 15 December. On 16 December the first constitution of Bangladesh went into effect.
Accordingly, the administrative system was restructured. Steps were taken to implement the constitution; one crore people were rehabilitated. Measures were taken to develop the transport, communications sector and the education system. From now on students studying in schools from the primary to the secondary level would be supplied with books for nominal prices. All ant-Islamic practices such as drinking, gambling and horse racing were banned. The Islamic Foundation was established while the Madrassa Board was restructured. 40,000 schools, including those offering primary education, were now taken over by the government. Steps were taken to rehabilitate women who had been raped during the Liberation War by the Pakistani Army men. A Freedom Fighter’s Welfare Trust was established for those people who had taken part in the liberation struggle. Land tax for holdings that were less than 25 bighas in size was withdrawn. Agricultural implements were now to be distributed amongst farmers at reduced or nominal prices. Banks, insurance companies and 580 industries abandoned by the Pakistanis were all nationalized. Thousands of workers and staff of such institutions were thereby rehabilitated. Primary work began then to establish the Ghorasal Fertilizer Factory and the Ashuganj Complex; many other new industries were built. Factories that had been shut down were made operational once again. Initiatives were taken to adopt a comprehensive and well-designed plan to build up the economic infrastructure of the country to take it steadily forward in order to make Bangladesh a prosperous country. To gain recognition for a notable number of countries in a very short time was a special achievement of Bangabandhu’s government.
1973 In the National Assembly elections held that year the Awami League won 293 of the 300 seats contested. On September 3, the Awami League, the C.P.B., and N.A.P. formed a unified front. On 6

September Bangabandhu went to Algeria to take part in the Nonaligned Nations Summit. On 17 October he set out on a tour that would take him to Japan.
1974
Bangladesh was given official recognition by Pakistan on February 22. Bangabandhu left for Pakistan to join the Organization of Islamic Countries (OIC) meet on February 23. On September 17 Bangladesh became a member of the United Nations. On 25 September he addressed the U. N. General Assembly where for the first time a speech was delivered in Bengali
1975 On January 25 the Presidential system of government was introduced and Bangabandhu took over as the President of Bangladesh. On 24 February the Bangladesh Farmers, Workers Awami League (BAKSAL)–a party comprising all the parties of the country-was formed. Bangabandhu called upon all political parties and their leaders to join this national organization. He had perceived by then that it was necessary to reduce dependence on foreign aid and make Bangladesh self-sufficient in every possible way. To attain these goals, he felt that it had become necessary to restructure economic policy and establish the economy on a new footing. He felt that a second revolution would be essential to make independence meaningful and to provide the masses with food, clothing, housing, health supplies, education and employment. To do what was needed steps were to be taken to weed out corruption from the country, increase production in the agricultural and industrial sectors, control population growth, and consolidate national unity. With the objective of establishing these goals as quickly as possible, he had built a common front on June 6, where all political parties, professionals and intellectuals would be able to come together, which he had named BAKSAL or the Bangladesh Farmers Workers Party. Bangabandhu was elected Chairman of this party.
Bangabandhu got an overwhelming response to his appeal for unity so that the goal of economic freedom that he had in view
could be realized. Within a very short time, there were signs of improvement in the economic condition of the country. Productive activities increased. Smuggling came to an end. The price of goods came down till it was within reach of the buying capacity of ordinary people.
The people of the country began to reunite on the path towards development with renewed hopes and enthusiasm so that the fruits of independence could reach everyone’s doorsteps. But humankind is not destined to enjoy peace and happiness forever!
On the morning of the 15th of August, the architect of Bangladesh, the greatest Bengali to have been born in thousands of years, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, was assassinated by some overambitious officers of the Bangladesh Army when in his own home. On that very day, his spouse, Begum Fazilutessa, his older son, the valiant freedom fighter, Lt. Sheikh Kamal, his younger son Lt. Sheikh Jamal, his two daughters-in-law, Sultana Kamal and Rosy Jamal, his brother Sheikh Nasir, his brother-inlaw and the Minister of Agriculture, Abdur Rob Sernabiat, and his daughter Baby Sernabiat, his nephew, also a journalist, Sheikh Fazlul Hoq Moni and his pregnant wife Arzu Moni, Bangabandhu’s Military Secretary, Col. Jamil Ahmed and the 4 year old youth Abdul Naeem Khan-in all 16 people—were slain by the assailants.
After Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was martyred on 15 August 1975, martial law was enforced throughout the country. Democracy was demolished and the fundamental rights of citizens were snatched away. Coups and conspiracies became the norm. Citizens were deprived of basic rights-including the right to vote and have their entitlements for survival.
The world over, there are laws to try murderers, but to protect the assailants from being brought to justice the self-confessed killers of the father of the Bangladeshi nation an Indemnity Ordinance was passed on September 26. General Ziaur Rahman usurped power illegally by declaring martial law and through the fifth amendment had the nefarious Indemnity Ordinance tagged on to the constitution of Bangladesh. This was a despicable law that destroyed the sanctity of the constitution by being tacked on to it. The
murderers were rewarded by being given overseas postings in various embassies of the country.
On June 23, 1996 an Awami League government under the leadership of Bangabandhu’s daughter Sheikh Hasina was formed in Bangladesh. A deposition was filed in Dhanmondi Police Station on October 2 for justice so that the assailants of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and his family members could be brought to justice. On November 12 the Indemnity Ordinance was cancelled. On 1 March 1997 proceedings began in the trial in the court of the Dhaka District and Sessions Court. On 8 November 1998 the District and Sessions Judge Kazi Ghulam Rasul delivered a 76 page verdict in which he sentenced 15 of the accused to death. On November 14, 2000 a split decision was given when the two judges sitting in the bench of the case of death references and appeals, Judge Md. Ruhul Amin and Judge A. B. M. Khairul, passed conflicting judgments. Afterwards, a third judge, Md. Fazlul Karim, pronounced a verdict where he gave a final verdict sentencing 12 of the accused to death. Subsequently, 5 of the accused filed a “Leave to Appeal” suit with the Appellate Division. From 2002-2006 the BNP-Jamat coalition government excluded the case from the list of cases to be acted upon. In 2007 a bench was formed to resume proceedings in the case. After 29 days of hearing and on 19 November, 2009, five judges, including the Chief Justice, dismissed the appeal and upheld the deaths sentence of the 12 who had been found guilty. On January 2, 2010 the Appeals Division filed a Review Petition lodged by the accused. After three days of hearing by four Judges, the review petition was rejected. After midnight on January 28, death sentences were carried out to execute 5 assailants. One more of them died while a fugitive abroad, while six are still absconding and are outside the country. But the demand for punishment for the cold blooded murders had been met 34 years later.
August 15 is a day stained in sin for the nation. This day is observed by the Bengali nation now as National Mourning Day.
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BANGABANDHU
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, lovingly called Bangabandhu (or friend of Bengal but in essence meaning the Father of the Nation, Bangladesh) by popular acclamation in 1969, was born on 17 March 1920 in the placid rural hamlet of Tongipara, in the Gopalganj subdivision of the Faridpur district. (Gopalganj has been subsequently upgraded to a district). His father, Sheikh Lutfar Rahman, a well-todo landowner also served as a sheristadar in the local munsif court.
As Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was growing up, he learnt of his family’s ancestral struggle with the local zamindar and the indigo planters, all of who subjected his forefathers of financial stress and harassment. Knowledge of these unhappy family experiences left a deep impression on young Sheikh Mujibur Rahman who would grow ardently opposed to all facets of imperialism, and exploitation of the landed interests.
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman received his elementary education in the village minor school established by a member of the family. Later on he was admitted to Gopalganj Public School. In 1934, while in grade 7, he was afflicted with beriberi that had an effect on his heart and eyes. He was medically treated for glaucoma, and subsequently, on the recommendation of the treating physician, he was withdrawn from school for four years. In 1937, he returned to his studies with vigor and enthusiasm.
In his youthful years, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was attracted to all forms and kinds of resistance movement against the British rulers of India. He began to believe firmly that every one should organize to resist the ruling British Raj. At around this time of his life, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman also began to take interest in social work, and served as Secretary of the Muslim Sheba Samity that assisted poor students in pursuing their education.

In 1938 when the Chief Minister of Bengal, A K. Fazlul Huq, and his Cabinet Minister for Commerce and Labor, Husayn Shaheed Suhrawardy, visited Gopalganj, the young Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was given responsibility of recruiting a volunteer group for organizing a public reception for the important visitors. It was on this occasion when Sheikh Mujibur Rahman met, for the first time, his would-be mentor, Husayn Shaheed Suhrawardy.
Cabinet Minister Suhrawardy was immediately drawn to Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, and asked him to organize a branch of the Muslim League, and a Muslim student organization in Gopalganj. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, then a student of Gopalganj Mission High School, got arrested for the first time on charges of causing public disturbances when a fracas broke out between the supporters of the Muslim League and the visiting Ministers, and their Congress opponents opposing the reception. Since most Congress supporters happened to be Hindus, a misgiving gained currency that the Hindus were not favorably inclined to Muslim interests.
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman passed his matriculation from Gopalganj Mission School in 1942. He proceeded to and got admission in Calcutta Islamia College. He also became a resident of the Baker Hostel in Calcutta, now Kolkatta. In due course he was elected uncontested the General Secretary of the Islamia College Students’ Union for two consecutive terms in 1945 and 1946. He graduated in 1947 from the University of Calcutta to which Islamia College was an affiliate. After partition of the subcontinent, Sheik Mujibur Rahman was admitted in 1948 for a degree on Law in the University of Dacca of the then East Pakistan. Unfortunately, he could not complete the degree course, as he was released from the Dhaka University for supporting the demand for improved service conditions of the fourth class employees of the university.
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, as a student, was average in his studies for the simple reason that he would have to spend more time and exhibit more interest in politics than on academic pursuits. With an intelligent, sharp and inquisitive mind, he applied himself, whenever he could… the pursuit of art, literature, history

and philosophy. In his incomplete and unpublished memoir, he records diligently his observation as well as his interpretation of the many historical events that occurred in the last decade of United Bengal and the first two decades of East Pakistan, with the insight of an eye witness and a participant.
In the long periods of his internments caused by his political convictions, and particularly during the Agartala trial, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman spent his time reading books in his areas of interest, and wrote his memoir. On one occasion when in jail, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman wrote a letter to Husayn Shaheed Suhrawardy of his wish to go to England and become a Barristerat-Law. In comparison to his mentor. Husayn Shaheed Suhrawardy, or A. K. Fazlul Haq, for whom he had the highest regard, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, however, would only be a college graduate.
Unlike them however, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman had a unique presence of mind, a ready wit, clarity of thought, and oratorical ability to spellbind his audience. Indeed. he had in his early political career mastered the art of public speaking and the technique of mass mobilization of people. Because of his rural background, he could communicate easily with people as one of their own. Populist, cultured, urbane and dignified, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman presented the image of a politician, who could represent both the countryside as well as urban communities
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s long stay in Calcutta during his formative youthful years in many ways molded his political views and outlook. He was the last East Bengali political leader linked to Calcutta, the nerve center of Bengal politics during the British Raj and to rural East Pakistan. In Calcutta, he was exposed to communal rancor and violence, as well as to the refreshing liberalism found in the leadership of at least a few people who straddled the religious divide.
Although Sheikh Mujibur Rahman did not have any close contact with Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, he became Netaji’s close admirer for his secular conviction, efforts to bring about HinduMuslim understanding, and strong anti-imperialist stance. He

equally held Chitta Ranjan Das in high respect for his dedicated efforts in creating lasting Hindu-Muslim amity.
While in Calcutta, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman came in close touch with Husayan Shaheed Suhrawardy. He also came in contact with A. K. Fazlul Huq, Maulana Abdul Hamid Khan Bhashani, Maulana Akram Khan, Abul Hashem, and many other notable progressive Muslim leaders, along with Nawabs and Khan Bahadurs. But unlike them who spent most of their time in Calcutta, he, with the exception of Maulana A. H. K. Bahshani, remained tied to his rural roots.
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman entered the world of politics in his youth. In 1940, he was elected Councilor of the All India Muslim Students’ Federation and the All Bengal Muslim Students’ League. At the same time he was also serving as secretary to the Gopalganj Sub-divisional Muslim League. In 1941, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman participated in the agitation for the removal of the Holwell Monument in Calcutta. He also identified himself with the movement that supported the Indian National Army’s (I.N.A.) endeavor against the allied war effort in World War II. During the famine of 1942-43. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s studies were interrupted as he decided to return to Gopalganj to take care of his people.
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman left the Muslim League in early 1947. He became disillusioned with the cultural, political and economic domination of East Pakistan by West Pakistan following the partition of the sub-continent. He also became greatly concerned at the deliberate state policy of marginalization of the Hindus, especially the policy of prescribing a separate electorate for them. He could not also acquiesce to the extradition of Husayn Shaheed Suhrawardy from East Bengal by the government of Khawaja Nazimuddin on orders from Karachi. Husayn Shaheed Suhrawardy had made enormous contribution in making the Muslim League popular in East Bengal and in attaining Pakistan.
After disassociating from the Muslim League, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman sought new organizations through which he could articulate his political views. He became a founder member of the
Democratic Youth League. At the same time, he established the East Pakistan Muslim Students’ League. In 1949, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was elected as joint secretary of the newly founded East Pakistan Muslim Awami League, the precursor to the Awami League. He became the general secretary of the party in 1952.
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman took a keen and active interest in the language movement. In 1948, he organized the protest against Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the Governor General of Pakistan, who pronounced that Urdu alone should become the state language of Pakistan. At the Curzon Hall, where Muhammad Ali Jinnah delivered his convocation address, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was not present but he organized the protest against the Governor General’s repeated unilateral declaration for Urdu as the only state language. At that time, he forcefully negotiated with Chief Minister Nazimuddin who promised his cooperation in favor of the Bengali language.
The language movement took a historic turn on 21 February 1952, when the students of Dhaka University protested against visiting Prime Minister Liaquat Ali Khan’s arrogant declaration on January 27 in Dhaka that Pakistan shall have Urdu as the only state language and that the Arabic script would be used in writing Bengali. To quell the student demonstration, police resorted to firing, killing four and injuring many others. This incident triggered the powerful language movement, providing the most potent ingredient for Bangladesh nationalism. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was locked in the Dacca Central Jail when blood was spilled in the University campus. While in jail he had gone on hunger strike on 14 February in demand for recognition of Bangla as the state language and for end to repression in East Pakistan. To stop him from contacting the student activists, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was transferred to the jail in Faridpur District. Unable to withstand the popular pressure of the people, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was released from prison on 26 February 1952.
In the first general elections of 1954, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was elected to the East Pakistan Legislative Assembly. He served as the Minister for Cooperation, Credit and Rural Reconstruction in the cabinet of A. K. Fazlul Haq from 15 May 1954 to 6 June 1955.
During June 1955, he was elected to the National Assembly of Pakistan. On 06 September 1956, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman once again assumed the office of the Minister for Commerce, Labor and Industries in the Awami League cabinet led by Chief Minister Ataur Rahman Khan. He served in that capacity until 08 August 1957 when he resigned to become full-time General Secretary of the Awami League.
To Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the interest of the party was more important than that of cabinet ministerial positions, and he felt that the interest of the cabinet on occasions needed to be subordinated to party interests. On this issue he came into occasional altercation with Chief Minister Ataur Rahman Khan, and this began to create irreparable friction between the two leaders. However, now as the General Secretary of the Awami League Party, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman bore sole responsibility of the party’s multifarious activities, including the party’s organization in the legislature, and of political gatherings. His work led him to travel extensively throughout the countryside where he recruited people to the party, and established party offices countrywide. With his eloquence, wit, and gift of articulation, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was able to attract large crowds to Awami League gatherings and conventions.
Sheikh Mujib had traveled abroad widely at a time when such ventures were a rarity. He visited China twice; the first time in 1953 when he attended the Peking Peace Conference, and again in 1967 as Leader of the Pakistan Parliamentary Delegation. As a recipient of the United States government leadership grant, he visited that country in 1958. He, however, remained a critic of the United States of America for some of its policies related to the developments in the sub-continent; opposed acceptance by Pakistan of American economic and military assistance, and Pakistan’s participation in the military alliances with the United States, or for that matter, any other power.
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was frequently imprisoned on charges of anti-state activities by the Government of Pakistan. He was arrested four times between September 1948 and 14 March 1954. He was arrested for the fifth time in 1954 immediately following
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the suspension of the cabinet of A. K. Fazlul Huq. On 12 October 1957, the Martial Law Regime under the East Pakistan AntiCorruption Act, 1957 and Ordinance LXXII of 1958 arrested Sheikh Mujibur Rahman on the false and baseless charge of accumulation of property disproportionate to his known source of income. He was subsequently held under the more stringent Public Safety Ordinance and an additional charge was filed against him by the Bureau of Anti-Corruption. All of these false charges were meant to coerce and intimidate him into giving up his determined struggle for the legitimate rights of the Bengali people.
Such unfair and unjustified treatment of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman came to a head with his arrest and imprisonment in September 1966 for the so-called Agartala Conspiracy where he was charged for planning the dismemberment of Pakistan. The allegation could not be proven, but yet he had to remain interned. It was the mass agitation of the students that led finally to his unconditional release in February 1969. Immediately after his release from jail, on 24 February 1969, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman addressed a rally of over a hundred thousand jubilant supporters, a number never seen hitherto in any public meeting anywhere in Pakistan. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman had become an instant hero of Bengalis.
Then followed Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s historical Six Point program demanding equality in the sharing of resources, and complete autonomy for East Pakistan in all matters, except defense, foreign policy and currency. This legitimate demand that had full support of the Bengalis led to confrontation and conflict with the leadership and military in Pakistan. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s resolute will and determination for attaining the rights of the Bengalis of East Pakistan earned him their love, adulation and unstinted support. Thus the people by unanimous and wide acclamation named him “Bangabandhu”.
Indeed, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s profound and genuine concern of the unfortunate plight of this people; his grit of purpose in setting unfair matters aright; his inspiring leadership in mobilizing and leading the people in seeking their just demands; his grim determination, dynamism and courage in times of crises
and beyond; and finally, his rare and unique charisma in mesmerizing men, women, and even children to blindly follow him in pursuit of their common dream, undoubtedly made Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, one of the greatest outstanding world leaders of the last century. It was possible for him and only him to liberate the Bengali people of East Pakistan from their miserable state of exploitation and subjugation, and realize for them an independent, sovereign country of their own, Bangladesh.
Dr. Enayetur Rahim Dr. Joyc Rahim
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES
A. K. Fazlul Huq (1973-1962): He was Chief Minister of undivided Bengal twice (1937 and 1941). He was legendary as a leader of Bengalis. He was the founder of the Krishok Shramik Party (Party of Farmers and Workers). He became immensely popular among the Bengali peasantry for introducing the Rin Shalishi Board (Board of Appeals for Loan Defaulters) which helped free them from the burden of loans. By keeping the Education Ministry under his control he was also able to play a key role in the rise of the Bengali Muslim middle class. He became Chief Minister of East Bengal after the birth of Pakistan and then Home Minister of the Pakistan government. He was fluent in English, Arabic and Urdu and many other languages and a spell-binding orator. He was given the title of “Sher-e-Bangla” after he delivered an outstanding speech in Urdu in Lucknow. Abdur Rashid (1912-2003): He was Sub Divisional Officer of Alipur District in the 1940s. He retired as a Secretary of the Pakistani Central Government. Abdus Salam Khan (1906-1972). He was a lawyer and a politician. He played an active role in the Pakistan movement as a member of the Muslim League. In protest against the autocratic rule of the Pakistani government of that time he left the Muslim League and joined the Awami League in 1949. As a nominee of the Awami League, he became a member of the East Pakistan Legislative Assembly and then a minister. He quit the Awami League in 1955 when the party dropped the “Muslim” part of its name. He returned to the party’s fold subsequently for a while but left it once more to become the President of the Pakistan Democratic Party. He was chief counsel for Sheikh Mujibur Rahman during the Agartala Conspiracy trials in 1969.
Alexei Kosygin (1904-1980): He was a technocrat and an economist. He was President during the Cold War and Prime Minister of the U. S. S. R. for a long time (1964-1980). His chief setting in the world stage for carrying out diplomatic initiatives was the Third World. It was on his initiative that the Tashkent Conference was held in 1965 to bring to an end the IndoPakistan war. Amena Khatun (1927-1989): She joined the Awami League in 1950. She was elected to the seat reserved for women in the East Bengal Legislative Assembly for Comilla-Sylhet in 1954. In 1966 she became Secretary for Women’s Affairs for the Awami League. In July of that year she was made Acting General Secretary of the party. She served in this position with efficiency and courage. Later, however, she deviated from the ideals that had guided her till this period and eventually became unpopular. Ataur Rahman Khan (1907-1991). He was a lawyer and a politician. He was one of the key Vice-Presidents of the Awami League party at its inception. He was also a leading member of the All-Party State Language Executive Committee. He was the Awami League nominated Joint Secretary of the United Front government. In the United Front cabinet led by A. K. Fazlul Huq (1954) he served as Minister of Civil Supplies and in 1956-58 he became its Chief Minister. When differences developed between him and the Awami League he formed a political pasty called the National League in 1969. He joined BAKSAL created by Bangabandhu after the birth of Bangladesh. Subsequently, he joined the military ruler Hussain Muhammad Ershad’s cabinet and was its Prime Minister for nine months. A noteworthy volume authored by him is Two Years as a Minister, Ten Years of Autocracy and Nine Months as Prime Minister Aziz Ahmed (1906-1982): A senior non-Bengali officer of the Pakistan Civil Service. He interfered wrongfully on most major occasions such as the East Pakistan Language Movement when he was Chief Secretary of the East Pakistan government. In effect, he was the chief implementer of all autocratic policies of the West Pakistani rulers of that period aimed at subjugating East Bengal. He

was rewarded for doing so by being given key positions in the governments of Ayub Khan and Yahya Khan. Subsequently, he was made the Foreign Minister of the Bhutto government. Chowdhury Mohammed Ali (1905-1980): He was appointed Secretary General of Pakistan after the partition of India and stayed in this position till 1951. From 1955-1956 he served as the Prime Minister of Pakistan. Emile Zola (1840-1902): Famous French novelist and literary critic. His novel Therese Raquin (1867) merited much attention for all sorts of reasons. Bangabandhu mentions reading this novel while in prison. Haji Mohammed Danesh (1900-1986): A legendary peasant leader and politician of Dinajpur. He joined BAKSAL, the party founded by Bangabandhu, after the liberation of Bangladesh. Hamidul Huq Choudhury (1901-1992): He was a politician, lawyer and newspaper publisher. He was a member of the Radcliffe Commission that had been set up to demarcate the India-Pakistan border. He was also a minister of the East Bengal Provincial Government. He became the Foreign Minister and Finance Minister of the Pakistan central government. He was one of the leading opponents of the Bangladesh Liberation War. Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862): An American philosopher, poet, environmentalist and political scientist. His most famous work is Walden. In it he stressed the importance of living a simple life amidst nature. But he was also very well-known for his polemical essay “Civil Disobedience”. This was a work which advocated a policy of disobedience against state policies that were unprincipled. Although some have considered his stance negatively, he was not really advocating the dismantling of the state apparatus but of reforming it and making it more humane. This essay has been a major influence on Leo Tolstoy, Mahatma Gandhi, etc. Because Pakistan was essentially an unjust state, Bangabandhu followed Thoreau in urging his people to oppose the existing state apparatus. Hossein Shahid Suhrawardy (1892-1963): A legendary political leader and dedicated exponent of democracy, he was the political guru that Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman followed in his
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career as a politician. He was a dedicated exponent of the western democratic model of governance. An incomparably eloquent speaker in the English language, he was also very compelling when he spoke in his distinctively accented Bengali. He was the last Chief Minister of United Bengal (1946) and also served as the Law Minister and Prime Minister of Pakistan for a while. Iskander Mirza (1904-969): He was appointed Governor of East Pakistan in 1954. Between 1955 and 1958 he was Governor General and President of Pakistan. The Army Chief of that period, General Ayub Khan, deposed him and promulgated Martial Law, sending Mirza into exile in the process so that he could usurp power. Khondoker Mushtaq Ahmed (1919-1996): He was a rightleaning leader of the Bangladesh Awami League and Foreign Minister of the Bangladesh government during the Bangladeshi Liberation War. But he has been accused of being involved in all sorts of suspicious and controversial schemes at this time. He served as a minister in various ministries after Bangladesh’s independence (1971-75). It is widely assumed that he secretly provided support and assistance in the conspiracy that led to the tragic death of Bangabandhu and so many members of his family. In 1975 some rebellious army soldiers opposed to the independence of the country made him President of the country. No sooner had he assumed power than he began to take the country backward on the road that had led to its independence through a war of liberation, forsaking its ideals. He is a much despised politician of Bangladesh. Krishna Mennon (1896-1974): He was a nationalist political leader, minister, diplomat, parliamentarian, an orator, and holder of the record for the lengthiest speech delivered in the United Nations Security Council on the situation of Kashmir. He was also Defense Minister of India. He was one of the architects of the Non-Aligned Movement and co-founder of Penguin Books when still quite young. This versatile man had been awarded the Padma Bhushan. He died when he was 78 years old in 1974. Manik Mia (1911-1969): This was the nickname of Tofazzal Hossein. He was a renowned journalist and political commentator.

He was an advocate of democracy and of secularism and a political disciple of Hossein Shahid Suhrawardy. The role he and the paper he edited, the Daily Ittefag, played in the struggles that led to the creation of the state of Bangladesh is incomparable. He made the 6 point demands of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman immensely popular with the people of East Bengal by highlighting them as essential to the region’s survival. His pen was sharp and uncompromising in opposing the oppressive, repressive and communal politics carried out by the Pakistani military rulers over East Bengal. Because of his critical stance he was imprisoned repeatedly and his paper was shut down again and again by the Pakistani government. When in 1964 the Pakistan government instigated Hindu-Muslim communal riots in Dhaka in 1964, he took a lead role in the publication of editorials of all major newspapers that were headlined ‘East Pakistan Stand Up in Opposition”. Mohammed Ali Jinnah (1876-1948): He was the main architect of the Pakistan Movement. Although he had espoused democratic beliefs and secularism in his early life, he later propagated the theocratic and divisive “two-nation” formula to found Pakistan and become its first Governor General. In 1948 he declared in Dhaka that Urdu would be the only state language of Pakistan, only to face angry protests from students there. Mohammed Ayub Khan (1907-1974): He was the first Martial Law ruler of Bengal (1958-60). He was President of the country from 1960 to 1969. Apppointed Commander-in-Chief of the Pakistan Army in 1951, he also served as the country’s Defense Minister in 1954-55. He was chosen Chief Martial Law Administrator in 1958 and assumed power through a military coup. He served as President till 1962 by promulgating Martial Law, and then from 1962 to 1969 though his own creation of the so-called “Basic Democracy” system. From 1952, when he was the regional commander of the Pakistan Army in East Pakistan, and later when he became Pakistan’s military ruler, he kept making adverse remarks about the uncompromising leadership of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and his championing of the Bengali language and the rights of Bangladeshis. His speeches, writings,
statements and comments all evidence his ignorance as well as prejudice and intolerance on these subjects. Mohammed Toaha (1922-1987): He joined the Pakistan Movement while still a student in the 1940s. Later, he became a major leftist leader of East Pakistan. He was one of the founders of the Jubo League. He was also one of the most influential leaders of the All-Party State Language Council. His contribution to the Language Movement is remarkable. But after the Liberation War of 1971 and the birth of Bangladesh he took up a political position and adopted Policies that were deemed controversial and errant by most people. Moshiur Rahman (1920-1971): A lawyer and a politician, he was also well-known as an Awami League leader of Jessore. He was a minister in the East Bengal Coalition government of 1956-58. He was killed brutally by the Pakistani army during the Liberation War of 1971. Moulana Abdul Hamid Bhashani (1880-1976). A politician who was born in Bangladesh, but who began his political career in Assam. He joined the Congress Party in 1919 and took part in the Khelafat and the Non-Cooperation Movement. He spent ten months in prison for his political activities then. He initiated the farmers-tenants rights movement in Assam in 1926. After quitting the Congress Party in 1937 he joined the Muslim League. That very year he led the movement that opposed repression of Assamese Bengalis. He was elected President of the Assam Provincial Muslim League in 1944. He was put under arrest in Assam in 1947. After he was released from jail in 1948 he returned to East Bengal. In 1949 he became founding President of the East Pakistan Muslim Awami League. However, he quit the Awami League in 1957, established the National Awami Party (NAP), and became its President. He played a leading role in the Language Movement and all other major people’s movements of Bangladesh. During the Liberation War of 1971 he was a member of the six-member All-Party Executive Committee that directed the war. For his life-long dedication to

the cause of workers and peasants he became legendary as a leader of the oppressed and the masses. Nurul Amin (1893-1974). He was a Member and Speaker of the Bengal Provincial Assembly and a Chief Minister of East Pakistan. It was at his directive that in 1952 shots were fired at Barkat, Rafiq, Salam and Jabbar during the Language Movement that led to their martyrdom. He was also opposed to the Bangladesh War of Liberation and the independence of the country. He became a citizen of Pakistan after the independence of Bangladesh and that country’s Vice President Oli Ahad (1928-2012): He was active in politics since the time he was a student in Kolkata. He was one of the founders of the East Pakistan Muslim Student League in 1948 and played an important role in the East Bengal Language Movement. He joined the Awami League after 1955. However, in subsequent life he got entangled in all sorts of errant political beliefs. He is the author of the autobiographical volume: National Politics: 1945-75. Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru (1889-1964): An Indian politician and leader of the Indian National Congress who has been admired universally. He was the first Prime Minister of India and the man who gave shape to its modern-day version. The Discovery of India (1946) is a book by him which is widely read and praised. Patrick Lumumba (1925-1961): A nationalist and revolutionary leader of Africa. He was the first Prime Minister of the Democratic Republic of Congo (June-September 1960). He was at first a trade union leader but in 1958 set up the Movement Nationalist Congolais, a national political party that encompassed all of Congo. That very year he established himself as a leader opposed to imperialism and for independence and national liberation. In 1960 he became Prime Minister of independent Congo. But his opponent Moshe Tshombe engineered the spilt of the section of the country which became the Republic of Congo; Tshombe and his followers also managed to assassinate Lumumba. Serajuddin Hossein (1929-1971): A renowned journalist, who worked first for the Daily Azad and then for the Daily Ittefaq. In 1971 he was one of the intellectuals who suffered martyrdom.
Shahidullah Kaiser (1927-1971); He was a leftist politician, a journalist and one of the main founders of the Democratic Jubo League. He was also one of the leading activists of the East Bengal Language Movement as well as a member of the Communist Party at one point of his life. He served time in prison on a number of occasions during the Pakistan period. As a novelist he had earned considerable fame. Among his major publications are the novels Shareng Bou (1962) and Shangsaptak (1965) and the memoirs Rajbondir Rojnamcha (1962). He worked as a journalist for the Daily Ittefag and the Daily Sangbad. He was killed by the Razakars (collaborators working for the Pakistan Army) on 14 December, 1971. He is one of the leading martyred intellectuals of that time. Shamsul Haq (1918-1965): He was the General Secretary of the East Pakistan Awami League for a while. He was imprisoned for his role in the 1952 Language Movement. In prison he became insane. Earlier, he had created history when he defeated a powerful nominee of the Muslim League in a bye-election in Tangail soon after the creation of Pakistan. Sharat Chandra Chottopadhyay (1876-1938): A leading Bengali novelist. His essay, titled “Adharer Roop” (The Look of Twilight), is alluded to by the writer of these diaries. Sheikh Fazlul Huq Moni (1939-1975): A politician, journalist and writer who had also founded the Awami Jubo League. He added a socialist dimension to Awami League politics. He had a noteworthy role to play in the creation of a sovereign Bangladesh. Tajuddin Ahmed (1925-1975): He was the General Secretary of the Bangladesh Awami League. He was a trusted and highly efficient deputy of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and very successful as the Prime Minister of Bangladesh during its War of Liberation. He was assassinated in a brushfire on 3 November, 1975 by some treasonous army personnel who were followers of the group of rebel army men who had had earlier brutally murdered Bangabandhu and many of his family members on August 15, 1975, along with three other men, who had also played leading roles in

the Bangladesh War of Liberation-Syed Nazrul Islam, Captain Monsur Ali and Kamruzaman. Zohur Hossain Chowdhury (1922-1980): He was a renowned journalist who edited the Daily Sangbad of Dhaka for many years. He was well known as an intellectual who was at the vanguard of all the progressive movements that took place in East Bengal in the 1960s. He had graduated with a B. A. (Hons.) from Kolkata’s Presidency College on 1942 and had subsequently joined the Daily Azad and Comrade newspapers. In 1947 he joined Dhaka’s Daily Pakistan Observer as its editor. But it was as the editor of the Sangbad that he earned fame. He was the writer of the popular column called “Darbar-e-Zohur”.
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