Muktir Gaan: Some Thoughts of

Lubna Marium
December 7, 2009 Leave a comment






2 Votes

by Lubna Marium
We normally dont talk about 1971. We dont discuss the war. It remains a morass of unconsolidated
memories, laid aside for 25 years, to be classified and labelled at some point in our lives; at some point
when we can feel sufficiently detached and rational about the events. So when Muktir Gaan was
released, we were forced to open our Pandoras box and confront emotions carefully locked away at
the furthest reaches of our hearts.Predictably, fiery emotions wracked away, yet again, to be quickly
repacked into their unamed recesses. Today, I feel compelled to write in response to Nusrat Huq and
Iresh Zakers article, Muktir Gaan A Triumph of the Bangladeshi Spirit, which appeared in The
Daily Star on Friday, 9th August, 1996. To these two teenagers and to all our children, closest to our
hearts, I address my thoughts.
Frankly, I have some reservations about Muktir Gaan, especially when it is called history in its
purest form. Since, all around us, history is in the process of being authenticated, lets get our facts
straight about Muktir Gaan.
The Bangladeshi Mukti Shongrami Shilpi Shangstha was totally based in Calcutta. Troupes or singers
were sent, to refugee camps in India, on day trips mostly, to motivate and inspire the demoralised, and
heart-broken refugees. There were performances in Calcutta, Shantiniketan and Delhi, too, to increase
the awareness of the plight of Bangladesh. A far cry from the battle fields of the war. Never once was
any member of the troupe in any danger of shedding a single drop of blood.
The scenes included in the film, at least where I can be seen, were shot over a period of a maximum of
five days. During that time we never once stayed overnight on the truck. We used to commute from a
guest-house in Bahrampur, as far as I can remember.
The date of the above event should be sometimes in the month of September 1971, after which Naila
and I, accompanied by our mother, left for Maldah to join our father, who was then the Sector
Commander for sector seven. The Muktibahini camp closest to Maldah was Baliadighi in the border
regions of Chapainawabganj, Rajshahi. Our freedom fighter brother, Nadeem, was based in Baliadighi.
The scene where Benu Bahi and Tariq Bhai are seen receiving permission, from a Bangladesh
government official in Calcutta, for traveling into the free region of Bangladesh was shot after this
time. The point being, that the question of receiving a written permission to travel into these territories
did not arise.
The scene which I most vehemently oppose is the one where Tariq Bhai is seen being interviewed by
Gias Chowdhury for a possible vacancy in the Mukti Bahini. The truth is that it was a scripted and
rehearsed scene. Men and young boys from all walks of life, participated in our freedom struggle. None
were ever interviewed; at least not the hoi polloi and the question of leaving a contact address is
laughable. Did anyone receive a signed and sealed contract for employment in the Mukti Bahmi? Of
course a group, of young men were later selected by the Indian army for training to become officers,
but that is true for a totally insignificant handful, in comparison to the hordes of unnamed, forgotten
masses who actually fought a war, irrelevant of age or handicap. Proof of this is Nadeem, who was 16
years old only, at that time. I also cite the example of Shahadat Chowdhury, present editor of Bichitra,
who fought as one of our valiant freedom fighters inspite of a genetic disorder in one eye. I repeat what
I have remarked on various occasions, anyone who seriously wanted to fight, could have fought.
Propaganda is a vitally necessary tool during war. We remain grateful to Sree Debdulal Bondhopadhay
for painstakingly and feelingly reading out prepared scripts all throughout 1971, thus motivating young
and old to take up arms to defend their motherland. The truth, however, is never so heroic. I wonder
if any of our boys willingly gave up his life for another. I would dearly like to meet the real-life Daktar
Babu of Sree Bondhopadhays script. To pass off war propaganda as history cannot be part of the
process of authentication.
So, why do I of all persons, feel the unpleasant need to shatter the euphoria surrounding Muktir Gaan,
an undoubtedly moving account of 1971?
Foremost among several reasons is my conviction that, truth is more beautiful than fiction. Tariq and
Catherine are to be lauded for their Herculean effort. Muktir Gaan is a piece of art while the footage
viewed in the raw is stark. With the film-makers efforts: the story-line and the unvoiced implications,
its a joy to watch. However, we cannot escape from the fact that it is not the whole truth and nothing
but the truth.
Secondly, I feel there is an insidious movement to intellectualise the war of 1971. It was not an
intellectuals war. It was a war fought by a people totally defenseless and unprepared. One may cite the
historic call for building fortresses in every home but, truthfully, does rhetoric count as preparation?
And, how skilled we are at spewing rhetoric to incite and motivate the man in the street to lay his life
down in the name of some ism or other, while we run away to our personal havens of safety.
However, deepest in my heart, I know I write today, because I am a coward. Today I too, have a 16
year old son, whom I will do all, in my power, to prevent from joining any war. Son, I love you too
much. I want to tell you what war really is about, though a part of me dies every time I remember.
War is not beautiful. It is about brutality and death. War is about your baby brother telling you how
scared he is to face death. Its about the trembling of a teenager relating the horror of the gouging of an
enemy soldiers eyes. War is about standing in front of the lifeless, blood-stained, bayoneted body of
someone you loved dearly. Its about crying and crying till you think your heart is actually going to
break into two. Sadly, war is about coming home to disillusionment. War is about forgotten heroes.
So next time they call you to lay your life for some cause or other, tell them to leave us alone. Tell
them to let my child and every mothers child live in peace. Tell them to go sing for their freedom, and
pretend that they wanted a bullet through their hearts.
Lubna Marium was a member of the troupe featured in the film Muktir Gaan, and this piece is
reprinted from an article that appeared in The Daily Star in 1996.