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     Volume 6 Issue 18 | May 11 , 2007 |

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A Tale of Two Mountains


In the year 2500 of the Christian era, this is what one historian wrote:

When the land was freed from the evil clutches of Ikap Atnuj, the two hills were hardly distinguishable. Later developments prove the hills, one as tiny as a mole, existed even when people celebrated their most glorious moment of victory. The defeated had no choice. It was their Helen of Troy.

Hardly had the waters of Rivers Amdap, Anhgem and Anumaj, witness to so many killings the mighty rivers were, turned from blood red to glistening silver of the famed but dying Hilsa, did the true colours of the so-called 'patriots' come to light. The loyalists were too absorbed in rending earth, air and water asunder with cries of 'Joy Bangla' that they failed to spot the heinous patches of dark shade under the bright lights of victory.

It took less than three decades of gushes from the ancient mountain range of Ayalamih upstream to wash away the memories of the martyrs. That is when some from across the hill, flying the flag they once detested, dared to refer to them publicly as simply 'the dead'. They had plenty of support on their growing hill.

The inevitable erosion gradually created two hills at loggerheads as obvious as the 26-year old Obrup Natsikap and Mihcsop Natsikap. The land that was once created by dividing another was now itself divided among the people, many of who were mentioned in a list prepared before some people came and started breaking little violations on both sides of major streets. Many were not mentioned. Bigger violations were too big to be demolished.

There were attempts to bridge the gap, especially by aliens who had interest in gas (sample preserved in Power Museum, but be sure to wear the mandatory mask) and the port facilities, a place where bulky steel boats were anchored so that they did not get lost in a storm.

That was the time when the E365 was not discovered as the planet's universal source of energy. Nor had BMU or beam-me-up been invented as means of transportation. One obscure columnist called China Tito defined the attitude of the powerful foreigners as kara-kari, which according to modern terminology means something close to the now extinct 'infighting'.

Many people were sadly killed. They used the bodies to fill up the dividing ravine, notorious for all forms of corruption, a profession of ancient people, many of who were elected to do so by people who lived for decades in a state of delirium.

Every time the hills came close to becoming one, a little but powerful and definitely evil hillock on one of the hills became the apple of discord. The other hill would never accept them and the hill that was the safe haven of the traitors considered it a political strategy to have them on their side, although many of them hated it.

So, you see, this Sonar Bangla was not always like this. Now you can call Sheikh Mujibur Rahman the Father of the Nation and a Friend of Bengal on national radio and television. People know that under his leadership the Bengali nation envisaged a land of their own and under his direction fought for an independent country. But for him the language Bangla may have vanished just as the Hilsa did at the beginning of the millennium. New arrivals were then priced at Taka 7000 per pair.

Today we have a proper voter list updated automatically with every citizen assuming the age of 18. We are able to even send each voter a Happy Voter Day card. Once upon a time it took them almost eighteen months! Hah! In that sort of a time two Wars of Liberation could be fought. No, don't be silly! The list was not prepared by one man going from door to door all over the country.

Today there is a separate and independent judiciary. Did you know that once upon a time there were corrupt adjudicators? That people believed that the courts could be swayed by government and pecuniary influences? That lawyers had to agitate to throw out a dishonest judge till he retired smilingly? One snippet from history has it that some of them kicked doors of the courthouse to convey a point of view. Strange custom, don't you agree?

Today's popular Friends Force was in those dark days known as the police. Oh! What did the police not do? They used to catch someone and first beat him up, before being very polite with the words, “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say will be misquoted, then used against you”. Legend has it that by an ingenuity never again matched they took money from both the accuser and the accused. They took years to investigate whether there was a mango tree in the middle of a paddy field.

They even had two different histories for our biggest achievement. One was the true narration of Mukti Juddho and the other a pack of lies to accommodate some politically necessary innuendoes. Even though most in the latter pack did not believe the debased modified history, they had to yield their conscience to sharing power. No, not E365, silly! That is only two hundred years old.

Today there are no hills. Today there is but one country.



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