Paying homage to Humayun Ahmed
Sunday, 22 July 2012
Humayun Ahmed has passed away. The acclaimed novelist, playwright, film maker is no longer amongst us to tell our own stories of pain and happiness, grief and hope in his own unique creative passion that he was so admirably gifted with ever since he started to write in the very early seventies. The nation today mourns his demise in a collective bid to show respect to one of the most worthy sons of the soil, who in his individual capacity has done wonders for more than three and half decades.
Humayun caused a stir in the country's literary scene way back in 1973 when, still a masters student at the Dhaka university, he came up with his maiden work — a slim novel of seventy-some pages, Nondito Noroke (In blissful Hell). The narrative pattern was unique in its story telling and the theme handled so deftly with great subtlety and reticence that critics were quick to acknowledge the intrinsic merit of his writing skills. The success of the book was followed soon by two more works of fiction — Shonkhonil Karagar and Achinpur. These three works of fiction in post-independent Bangladesh caused a huge watershed to reinforce the spirit of the just liberated country that was visibly manifest in the literary and cultural spheres of all hues. Humayun had, in that very brief span of time, made his mark and most who read him — academics, common readers and critics — were at one that he had come too stay, and hopefully for a long time into the future.
This hope was no pipe dream, but a reality gaining in strength and energy in the decades that followed, except for a brief spell in the late seventies while he was pursuing his doctoral research at an American university. Since the eighties, Humayun Ahmed never looked back. He had his incessant flow of creativity confined not only to the fictional writings, but interestingly to television dramas, serials and lately film making. It was a time when the country's entire literary and cultural scene remained captivated by his singular presence. He grew from strength to strength.
The distinctive feature which got him so close to the hearts of the millions was his mode of communication. It was a magical link that writers aspire to achieve throughout their whole lifetime. Humayun mastered it with such ease!
There were indeed critics who were not ready to weigh popularity and merit on the same scale, as though his popularity was a measure of some sort of inadequacy in his literary insights, especially in his later writings. However, the truth one must not lose sight of is that Humayun Ahmed wrote for his readers whom none but he himself created. These readers, innumerable by any count, waited for his books, eager to read what they wanted to read. This, by all means, is a stupendous achievement that very few writers have had the occasion to see for themselves while they lived. Humayun has experienced it more than anyone we know of.
With his passing away, the first thing that strikes one is the void he has left behind. His readers have already begun to sense it and in the time ahead, it is going to press upon them, maybe with an insatiable longing.
Humayun caused a stir in the country's literary scene way back in 1973 when, still a masters student at the Dhaka university, he came up with his maiden work — a slim novel of seventy-some pages, Nondito Noroke (In blissful Hell). The narrative pattern was unique in its story telling and the theme handled so deftly with great subtlety and reticence that critics were quick to acknowledge the intrinsic merit of his writing skills. The success of the book was followed soon by two more works of fiction — Shonkhonil Karagar and Achinpur. These three works of fiction in post-independent Bangladesh caused a huge watershed to reinforce the spirit of the just liberated country that was visibly manifest in the literary and cultural spheres of all hues. Humayun had, in that very brief span of time, made his mark and most who read him — academics, common readers and critics — were at one that he had come too stay, and hopefully for a long time into the future.
This hope was no pipe dream, but a reality gaining in strength and energy in the decades that followed, except for a brief spell in the late seventies while he was pursuing his doctoral research at an American university. Since the eighties, Humayun Ahmed never looked back. He had his incessant flow of creativity confined not only to the fictional writings, but interestingly to television dramas, serials and lately film making. It was a time when the country's entire literary and cultural scene remained captivated by his singular presence. He grew from strength to strength.
The distinctive feature which got him so close to the hearts of the millions was his mode of communication. It was a magical link that writers aspire to achieve throughout their whole lifetime. Humayun mastered it with such ease!
There were indeed critics who were not ready to weigh popularity and merit on the same scale, as though his popularity was a measure of some sort of inadequacy in his literary insights, especially in his later writings. However, the truth one must not lose sight of is that Humayun Ahmed wrote for his readers whom none but he himself created. These readers, innumerable by any count, waited for his books, eager to read what they wanted to read. This, by all means, is a stupendous achievement that very few writers have had the occasion to see for themselves while they lived. Humayun has experienced it more than anyone we know of.
With his passing away, the first thing that strikes one is the void he has left behind. His readers have already begun to sense it and in the time ahead, it is going to press upon them, maybe with an insatiable longing.