Dear Brothers! What had we wanted. And what have we got?

We had wanted an independent, sovereign country. Where there will be happiness. And peace.

But what have we got?

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

They have snatched away our joy.

They have filled the jails with our brothers.

They have shot those who love this country inside those jails.

They have made our mothers weep.

They have fired our fathers from their jobs.

They have stopped the education of our brothers and sisters.

Now they want to snatch away our language too.

No.

No.

No.

We won't allow that to happen.

We won't let them take away the language we speak.

Hartal.

We will hold nationwide hartals.

No, no, that won't be right. A better move would be launch a nationwide signature campaign.

What's the use of having hartals?

They have promulgated Section 144.

No hartals.

No bringing out processions on roads.

No.

No.

We can't obey unlawful laws.

We will defy Section 144.

Defy it.

Defy it.

They have fired on us.

Have you heard, they have fired on us.

They have shot dead some students.

Where?

Where the road turns in front of Medical College.

Shocking.

This is why we had wanted independence.

This is why we had brought about Pakistan.

We don't recognize this government.

We don't recognize these bandits with blood on their hands.

They must resign.

We will not forget the blood of Barkat.

We will not forget the blood of Rafiq and Jabbar.

We want justice.

We want the killers to hang.

Dear brothers, march forward.

Step forward-- disregard their bullets and bayonets.

(Today's conversations. Conversations I hear on streets and roads.)

What do you want?

A donation for Ekushey February.

What will you do with it?

Bring out a magazine.

What will you accomplish by bringing out a magazine?

Bangla Academy has announced a prize. I'm going to enter the competition..

No, nothing will come out of giving you money. The other people have already booked all the well-known singers and artistes. What use are all of you lazy bums, sitting at home silently, feasting on meat?

Don't you worry, sir. We too have made considerable arrangements. You'll see for yourself, our function's going to be better than theirs.

What do you mean 'going to be'? It has to be better. My pride and honour's at stake here. Don't you understand, I'm the president here. And listen, write me a good speech. Make sure the history of Ekushey February is given. Plus the names of the Shaheeds. Don't muck that up like you did the last time.

No, no. Don't you worry. I'm coming home after a few days. then I'm going to knock a few heads together.

But how can you possibly come?

Why not?

I thought you said you didn't have any more days off.

Oh, I have a few, and of course, don't you know, a few days later there is Ekushey February, which is a holiday. I'm going to leave the night before. Then you'll see me knocking their heads together. What cheek, stealing from our pumpkin patch!

Where are they holding the meeting?

At Paltan.

And the others?

They are holding it at Baitul Mukarram.

Isn't the Engineering Institute available?

No.

The Bangla Academy?

There's some seminar going on there.

So what do we do now?

I don't know what we're going to do.

Listen, there's one thing we can do. We'll hold our meeting at the race course.

Whatever happens happens for the best. There will be such massive attendance there, it's going to blow everybody else out of the water.

Hey, listen. I can't stay for long today.

Why not?

The provost will really get angry if I stay out late. And then I'll never be able to go out again.

But I still have a lot to talk over with you.

I know that. But…listen, can't we do this?

What?

Why don't you come to the Shaheed Minar tomorrow night?

Why there?

We're all going there to draw alponas there. We're going to be there till very late at night. We can talk to our hearts' content.

Will the provost allow you to be out that late at night?

Won't he! If he dares to stop us on the 20th and the 21st, we'll make short work of him.

Sir.

Yes?

Students are tramping in and out of here all the time.

Why? Why? Why are they coming here?

They want advertisements.

Advertisements? For what?

Because they're all bringing out supplements for Ekushey February.

Hmmm! Why don't you do one thing: this year is the year of Joi Bangla. We can't turn anybody away, so I'm going to sanction a fund. Why don't you divvy that up among them and make sure everybody gets a little something. This should only help to increase the goodwill for our company. And listen.

Yes, sir.

Are you acquainted with any poet, fellows like that?

Why, sir?

Well, I was thinking about a four-line poem about the Shaheeds that we could use in one of the advertisements…

Don't worry about it, sir. That I can compose myself, sir. You may not know it, but I do a little writing now and then.

Okay, then you do that.

One other thing, sir.

What?

This peon of ours, sir. This last storm wrecked his house, sir. He wants a month's advance on his salary.

Why are you dragging something unrelated into the middle of this? You do what I told you to do. Don't disturb me with all that other garbage. You tell him it's not going to be done.

How many did you break?

Four.

You?

I took out five car license plates. And seventeen signboards.

Do you know, that fat sahib in our neighbourhood, that man who once slapped me for writing a letter to his daughter, you remember him? I have been waiting for him ever since then. Waiting till Ekushey February came around--his license plates are in English--thinking I'm going to rub his nose in the dirt. And I did it, smashed his car in, too.

Good. Here we are fighting for our culture, and these people are driving around with English license plates!

You did the right thing.

(The conversations I'm going to hear in the future. Conversations that will be heard from mouth to mouth.)

How many days in a year?

Three hundred and sixty-five days.

Out of three hundred and sixty-five, how many are Martyr's Days?

Two hundred and ninety-two.

How many days remaining?

Seventy-three.

And what's the use of keeping these seventy-three days empty?

Right, we should fill those up too.

Light a fire.

Again, light a fire.

Light a fire in the whole nation.

Seven crore people here.

So what if three crores die?

The rest four crores can live happily. Live in peace.

Let them observe every day of the year as Martyr's Day.

Zahir Raihan was the noted Bangladeshi film-maker who shot the evocative 1971 documentary Stop Genocide. Farhad Ahmed is a free-lance writer/translator.