Version 1: Translation in Professional Language [Writer Mode]
Our Wedding Story.
The Wedding That Wasn't Meant to Happen
Today is August 31, 2023. Exactly 44 years ago, on August 31, 1979, Salma and I got married in Dhaka. I wasn't in the habit of keeping a regular diary, but I would occasionally write down significant events. While rummaging through old diaries, I stumbled upon some entries from around the time of our wedding, 44 years ago. But the pages were torn, eaten by insects, and riddled with holes, making them difficult to read. Ironically, while the floods in Bangladesh never affected me, the flood in Ohio didn’t spare me! I had about six thousand books that couldn't be moved to the condo, so they were stored temporarily in a warehouse. The flood from the Cuyahoga River submerged the lower part of that warehouse, and many of my cherished books were lost. Among the damaged ones was my helpless diary. So, I am trying to salvage and preserve some selected pages on the computer. I am sharing a few entries here in honor of our 44th wedding anniversary. It was written for myself, so it lacks embellishment. There’s no secrecy in it. I was hesitant to share because of that. Here are things that no living person besides me knows. In this old age, I wondered what good it would do to retain secrecy, so I quoted it as it was written. For clarity, I have added some comments or explanations here and there.
From the Diary Page December 26, 1977
The event was Maleka Bhabhi's brother's wedding. (Maleka Khan is the wife of Shakhawat Ali Khan, the then-chairman of the Journalism Department at Dhaka University, and a family friend. I was a young teacher in the department at that time.) Upon entering the Ladies Club in Dhaka on time, I saw that not many guests had arrived yet. Family members were busy with the arrangements. I noticed the universally respected retired IG, Mr. Alamgir Kabir, sitting in a chair in a corner. Mr. Kabir was admired for his honesty, efficiency, and courage. He earned everyone's admiration by defying Governor Monem Khan's illegal orders. He was the only high-ranking government official who resigned in protest of the Ayub-Monem regime's misrule. When President Ayub Khan himself received his resignation letter, he disregarded protocol and visited Mr. Kabir's house, requesting him to withdraw it. Despite showing appropriate respect and hospitality to the president, Mr. Kabir did not withdraw his resignation. When I was a journalist, I noticed that all the leading figures of Bangladesh, including Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and Ziaur Rahman, held Mr. Kabir in high regard. Both Rahmans requested him to become a minister, which he politely declined. On the family front, he was the younger brother of Mr. Humayun Kabir, a legendary hero of undivided Bengal, a famous writer, a co-drafter of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and a long-time member of Jawaharlal Nehru's cabinet. In 1936, Mr. Alamgir Kabir secured the first position in the Indian Police Service (IPS) examination, upholding the reputation of his elder brother Humayun Kabir. I knew Mr. Kabir. He was a distant relative of ours. I approached him with a greeting and sat beside him. Though my face seemed familiar to him, he couldn't quite place me. I didn't feel the need to introduce myself either. I asked, "Didn't Khala (aunt) come?" He replied, "She has gone to Paris for the Girl Guides conference." His wife, Mrs. Tahera Kabir, who belonged to the Dhaka Nawab family and was the daughter of the famous diplomat Khwaja Shahabuddin (brother of Khwaja Nazimuddin), had been a prominent figure in the Girl Guides movement for a long time and the commissioner of the East Pakistan Girl Guides for many years. Besides, this wealthy woman was famous for her philanthropy and humanitarian work. Under her initiative, the renowned Vicarunnesa School in Dhaka was founded. Maleka Khan had been associated with the Girl Guides for a long time, and her eldest daughter was a friend of Mrs. Kabir’s daughter. That’s how they became close. As we talked, more guests started arriving. I noticed many were eager to sit beside him. So, I gave my chair to one of them and stood up. I couldn’t talk to him the other day. Last evening, Maleka Bhabhi suddenly called me and said, "Mr. Kabir likes you a lot." "Why, Bhabhi?" "You know he has a marriageable daughter, right?" "I know, but what about that?" "He is looking for a groom for her. It seemed he liked you quite a bit." "How do you know?" "Yesterday, he pulled me aside and pointed at you, asking, 'Who is this young man?'" "That doesn't mean he liked me for his daughter." "What else could it mean?" "I understand what happened. I sat beside him and talked to him for quite a while. He couldn't place me, so he asked you. That's all." "No, I think there’s more to it. He immediately recognized your father’s name. It looked like he knew everyone in your family. He asked what you do. You think I didn't notice, right?" "Bhabhi, you are an intelligent woman, no doubt. But in this matter, you are mistaken. He was just trying to figure out who I was, as he couldn’t recognize me. To avoid any awkwardness, he asked you about me. That’s it. Nothing more." "Even if that's the case, so what? He’s looking for someone; you are looking for a wife. I have done matchmaking before, so why not do it again? What do you say?" "No, thank you, Bhabhi." "Why not?" "So, listen." “Tell me.” "A few months ago, Uncle Noor (Noorul Hossain, one of my father's five brothers) came to our house and told my mom, 'Sister-in-law, yesterday, Mr. Kabir and Mrs. Tahera were at our house. They asked me to look for a boy for their younger daughter. It seemed they would be happy with someone from our family. I was thinking of Babar.' (Babar is my nickname.)" My mother replied, "Okay, I will let him know." I was listening from my room, and I declined the offer to my mother on the same day. "But why?" "The main reason is I can't speak Urdu." "Why not? Both your parents speak good Urdu." "That’s because some relatives in their homes spoke Urdu, so they picked it up in their childhood." "But you weren't taught?" "We grew up during the language movement when learning Urdu was considered a sin. That is probably why they didn't teach us, and we had no interest in learning either." "Then how do you communicate with the Nawab family relatives?" "In Bengali. They all understand Bengali. Some can speak it well, though not all." "My Sagira Aunt's Bengali is so poor that I always have to speak with her in English. (Sagira Banoo, wife of Uncle Noor, is the granddaughter of Nawab Salimullah.)" "I understand your fears now. You seem to be judging everyone based on Sagira Aunt." "She's not the only one. Many in that family can't speak good Bengali. If I can't converse with my wife in our native language, a distance will always remain that I don’t want." "You are mistaken. Mr. Kabir's daughter is fluent in Bengali. Their household language might be Urdu, but you wouldn’t realize her first language isn't Bengali. She learned it well for her Uncle Humayun Kabir's Bengali writings." "Really?" "Yes, absolutely. I've known her since she was little. She never speaks to me in any language other than Bengali." "No one told me this. Being educated abroad, few relatives know her. That's probably why it's not widely known." "True. Listen, make time to visit our house one day. We can discuss everything in detail. I won’t force you but you need to know all the pros and cons. Your perceptions of them aren’t entirely accurate. Get to know them thoroughly before making a decision. There's no rush; she is still abroad." "Alright, Bhabhi, I will come."
February 7, 1978
After work, I went to their house with Sir. I had informed Maleka Bhabhi beforehand. Just as we sat on the veranda, Bhabhi came with tea in a tray draped with a tea cozy. After exchanging pleasantries and sipping tea, she asked, "When did you last see Sally?" (Sally is Salma's nickname; everyone in her family and friends called her that.) "I haven’t seen her. I haven't seen her grown-up. I wouldn’t recognize her now." The last I saw of her, she was a mischievous and lively child. Later, I heard she was called the tomboy of Gulshan. "You wouldn’t think she was ever so mischievous if you see her now." "You haven’t described what she looks like." "You didn’t ask." "I'm asking now." "Have you seen anyone from the Nawab family who isn't good-looking?" "No, I haven't. But she isn't completely from the Nawab family." "That shouldn’t concern you. You’ll like her when you see her." "Appearance is just one of many considerations. There are several factors in marriage. Nawab family children are so used to a luxurious lifestyle that they find it hard to adapt to a middle-class family like ours." "Well, it's not like you live without any luxuries at all either." "What are you saying, Bhabhi? It's like comparing Agartala to Ukirtala. (Ukir = a small platform)" "I know your Ukirtala. I’ve seen your house in Noakhali." "The most important thing is life philosophy. If a couple doesn't have the same or at least similar life philosophies, a happy marriage is almost impossible." "I agree with you completely on that." "That's my primary concern. I can't imagine myself aligning with Nawab family girls' philosophies. Although I don't know Sally, I know some girls from that family well. Even my cousin sister is like a typical Nawab family girl, so I didn’t hesitate to say 'no.' I didn’t have any doubts." "The more I listen to you, the more I feel Mr. Kabir made the right choice in liking you." "How, Bhabhi?" "You have no idea about Madam Kabir and her daughters. Their family is nothing like a typical Nawab family, not even like your Sagira Aunt, even though they are cousins." "Is that so? I’ve never been up close to Mrs. Kabir." "You’ll like her if you do. She’s very affectionate. You’d feel like calling her 'Mom.'" "I’ve heard such things about Mrs. Kabir from many." "But just as important as the family to me is the girl herself. You told me what kind of girl you are looking for—a well-studied, intelligent girl who loves reading like you, proficient in intellectual discussions, and can challenge you, stimulating both of your intelligences." "You remember quite well." "This girl is exactly that. I don’t think many girls in Dhaka city could meet your criteria." "That’s true. If there were, I would have found one by now." "You’ll be amazed at how much you two have in common." "Like?" "She has read a lot, like you. Even at this young age, her breadth of knowledge leaves me astonished." "Really?" "Her non-academic reading exceeds her academic ones. She can converse in four languages and read five." "You are scaring me now." "That is valid. She’s an excellent student, no less brilliant than you. You’ll see she’ll be the first class first this time too." "Then she needs someone more brilliant than me." "Are you scared?" "I have reasons to be." “See, after thinking it through, when you weigh everything, there’s no one equivalent to her in Bangladesh. You come close. So, they’d have to compromise." "Their family isn’t limited to Bangladesh. They are spread across the subcontinent and worldwide. They’ll find someone somewhere." "But their preference is a Bangladeshi Bengali. You know their elder daughter Nasrin is married to a diplomat. They mostly live abroad, so they want the younger one to stay in the country." “Is that so?” “Look, I’ve honestly been thinking of you for a while. I know what kind of girl you want and what kind of boy they need. Once the girl returned to the country, I intended to introduce you. Mr. Kabir’s interest in you makes me feel it’s divine providence." "Divine providence?" "The girl needs an intellectual match from a family of the same or similar stature. But there isn’t another same-level family. If you find a comparable family, you won’t find an intellectual match; if you find an intellectual match, you won’t find a similar family. Again and again, it was you who came to mind. Both families have known each other for a long time and are relatives. It's rare to find another like that. You won’t find a girl like her, and they won’t find a boy like you." "Bhabhi, you have left me in deep thought. I will have to reconsider everything." "The girl is not materialistic—just like you. She has no attraction to money. She lives a simple life. She enjoys reading and intellectual discussions. That's her most comfortable environment. She’ll blend in with your family." “You really think so?” "Of course. Otherwise, I wouldn’t say anything. Just a few months ago, Madam Kabir asked me to consider a boy for Sally as she was graduating and returning home. From the beginning, I was thinking about you. Now Mr. Kabir has made it much easier." "How?" "He got to know you well. I won’t have to introduce you anew." "Madam Kabir will need an introduction." "That will happen. Half the work is already done. It feels like everything is falling into place! Remember, marriages are in God's hands. We are just the means. What is destined for you by God will happen." "That’s true, but it’s also true that our Prophet said, 'Trust in God, but tie your camel.'" "Of course. Tie your camel. Consider everything carefully. I think being able to marry into that family is a great fortune not just in Bangladesh but in the subcontinent for any young man." "Bhabhi, I am not marrying the family. I'm marrying a girl. If our philosophies don’t align, the family won't matter. The marriage will become a source of unrest for both." "That's correct. That's why you two need to know each other well. You already know a lot about Madam Kabir’s family as you're relatives, but I don't know how much you know about the Kabir family. She's influenced by both families. So, you need to know about the Kabir family well to understand the girl, as she was influenced by both." "I think you are right." "Many have heard about Humayun Kabir, but not many know about the other family members." "I honestly don’t know." "Among the six brothers, four served as ministers or equivalent positions in India, Bangladesh, or Pakistan. I don't know of another instance like this in world history. The other two brothers reached the top of their respective professions: one was the Consul General of Pakistan in the Arab League in the Middle East, and the other was the Managing Director of a multinational corporation. Humayun Kabir, while studying at Oxford, was known as the most brilliant student. Not only that, he was elected as the Secretary of the Oxford Union. Before him, no one other than a white had been elected to that position." "Really?" "They also don't fall short in terms of aristocracy. It is a historic family." "Humayun Kabir's grandfather (paternal grandfather), Munsef Amiruddin Ahmed, was the grandson of Haji Shariatullah, the founder of the Faraizi movement in Bangladesh (a friend of Titumir)." "Really? I didn’t know that." "Look, the connection of Bangladesh's two most aristocratic and successful families was made with the marriage of Alamgir Kabir and Tahera Kabir. And their daughter is Sally. Great-granddaughter of Nawab Salimullah. She's our princess!" "Oh dear, now I have to become a prince!" "No prince here, what can be done." "I understand that family-wise, there's no match for them in Bangladesh. But the family isn’t important to me in marriage. The person I will spend my life with is the only consideration. If our philosophies don’t align, the marriage will become a source of unrest for both." "Of course. That's why you need to know each other well." It was decided that Maleka Bhabhi would arrange our meeting once Sally returns to the country. Couldn't help but ask: "Why did her parents give her such an old-fashioned name?" Bhabhi replied, "That's another story. Before Sally was born, her parents went to Lebanon for a vacation. There, Mrs. Kabir met a revered Sufi woman named Madam Salma. She requested her to pray for her to have a child. Madam Salma prayed and said if it was a boy, they should name him Salman, and if a girl, Salma. Despite the vehement protest from the family, Mrs. Kabir honored that request." On my way back home, I thought, what a funny thing. Almost 15 years ago, my elder brother was supposed to marry Sally’s elder sister. My parents were enthusiastic about it, but before a marriage proposal could be sent, my brother fell head over heels for a beautiful woman from the Baliadi House in Dhaka (daughter of the famous scholar Dr. S.M. Hossain, former Vice Chancellor of Dhaka University, and niece of the then Chief Justice of East Pakistan, Justice B.A. Siddiqui). They got married there. (Mr. Alamgir Kabir and Mrs. Tahera Kabir attended the 1964 wedding with their two daughters.) Sally’s elder sister later married a diplomat friend of my brother’s. One never knows what fate has in store.
May 19, '78
After a brief spell of rain, a gentle sun emerged. The sun leaned towards the west as a mild breeze blew. Maleka Bhabhi sat on the veranda drinking tea, seemingly waiting for us. I arrived first and, greeting her, asked, "Where is Sir?" “He just headed to the University Club for a bridge tournament." Just as she finished, Sally's car pulled into the driveway. Bhabhi was right; she was quite beautiful. A sweet face in a green printed sari, with no makeup. Fair skin with light jewelry, a round face with a slender body. Though twenty-one, she looked sixteen. Shy yet cheerful, her innocent face bore an aristocratic charm. As Bhabhi introduced us, she smiled sweetly, revealing her astonishingly beautiful teeth. Bhabhi led us into the drawing room and said, "I need to step out briefly. If you need anything, tell Moynar Ma. I've instructed her to serve tea. Stay as long as you wish and leave whenever you want. I might not be back before then." With that, Bhabhi left. The significant age difference between us made me a bit disappointed by her youthful appearance. Hearing her voice, like that of a teenager, deepened my disappointment. I thought I might not stay long. Her maturity didn't seem to match her age, and she might find it challenging to connect with me. Raised in wealth, surrounded by luxury, she hadn't mingled with ordinary people. Studying in residential schools abroad, she hadn't had the chance to know her country or society well. On top of that, she looked so young and fragile. I was unsure how to converse with her. I have a stern schoolmaster-like demeanor—perhaps that's where 'grave and serious' comes from. It often takes time to break the fear new students have of me. By creating humor in class and mingling closely outside, I ease their fear. It takes time, but I didn’t have that luxury then. These thoughts ran through my mind. My students were her age, so my tongue struggled to say “Aapni” (formal you). Meanwhile, I knew, Urdu speakers aren't quick to use 'Tumi' (informal you), especially not with strangers. The Nawab family followed the same rule. I couldn’t think of topics to discuss. I spoke a little, pausing in between. She seemed to quickly realize my discomfort and began to lead our conversation, astonishing me. There seemed to be no hesitation in her on what to talk about and how. In clear Bengali and perfect pronunciation, she effortlessly brought up various subjects—from mutual family background to school, college, and leisure. Within a short time, my awkwardness faded, and it no longer felt like our first meeting. I marveled at her conversational skills. She had mastered the art of gently probing through indirect, polite questions to know another person well. While I don’t think of myself as rude, I may not realize if I am. But the finesse of her politeness was beyond my grasp. Despite caution, occasional brusqueness crept in—either in tone or word choice. Sometimes, after realizing my slip-up, I felt embarrassed. But she, with extreme courtesy, made it appear as if my behavior was entirely appropriate, sparing me from embarrassment. Her extreme politeness reminded me of King George VI. It's said that at a dinner at Buckingham Palace, hosted in honor of the Shah of Iran, Reza Shah mistakenly drank from the finger bowl meant for rinsing fingers. While everyone exchanged glances, King George VI himself drank from his finger bowl, setting an example of extreme etiquette. It felt like this girl was doing the same for me. Amidst this remarkable subtle and polished politeness, she cleverly learned things about me in a short span that even many of my friends don’t know. Mimicking her, I began to inquire about her, but it seemed she had no hesitations about revealing personal details. Or perhaps intentionally, she was making my task easier. We both knew we loved reading, so naturally, the topic came up soon in our conversation. History was one of my favorite subjects in college, and she majored in it, so that’s where we started. But soon, the discussion spread to many other subjects. I noticed she hadn’t used a single English word until I did. Once I did, she responded in English—with a completely British accent. I’m a fan of British accents and thoroughly enjoyed listening to her. To hear more, I continued speaking in English for a while. It seemed English was her first language. Since I didn’t know Urdu, I didn’t have the chance to hear her speak it, and even if I did, I couldn’t judge its quality. From favorite books, authors, and movies to art, literature, and even philosophy, nothing was left out of our discussion. At such a young age, her reading and knowledge base left me astounded. I have a reputation for reading widely in my circle. Friends and colleagues rarely engage me in factual or theoretical arguments. Seeing the depth of scholarship of this 21-year-old girl, the pride of this know-it-all professor of Dhaka University crumbled to dust. Soon, it felt like I was talking to a learned professor, not a student. I asked her how she found time for so much reading at such a young age. She said she grew up alone. When she was young, her only sister attended a boarding school in Mari, Pakistan, so she didn’t have much of her company. Both her parents were busy outside all day. Books became her sole companions, ones that never left her alone. They had collections like the Encyclopedia Britannica and the Great Books of the Western World at home, and her parents always bought her whatever books she wanted. When Bhabhi returned, I was surprised to see two hours had passed according to the wall clock! Bhabhi mentioned that she had come back once before but, seeing both our cars in the driveway, went to a neighbor's house, not wanting to disturb us. In my mind, I thought I had found the girl I had waited for all these years. The famous Talat Mahmood song came to mind: "It feels like I've been searching only for you all my life, Oh Unique One, you've come in the form of a vision." Yet, I didn’t know if she had found what she was waiting for. The girl was so courteous that there was no way to tell. Even if she disliked me, she wouldn’t let it show. I lacked the insight to see into her mind, so I returned home with uncertainty. On the way, I felt like singing, "Everything my soul desires, is you, it’s you."
May 20, 1978
Last night, I couldn’t sleep. Extreme joy and deep sorrow flowed in the same stream. Though I've fallen in love countless times, never have I been so captivated at first sight. But if she turns me down now, can I bear the pain? I wondered, "What does love mean, my friend? Is it just suffering?" In the morning, I called Bhabhi, asking if she had noticed anything. She said, "No, didn’t you?" "How could I, Bhabhi?" "You’re such an amateur." "Perhaps. She was always so courteous and formal that I couldn't penetrate her wall and get inside. Even if she doesn’t like me, she wouldn’t let me know." "No, I didn’t try to find out, nor did I ask anything. I think you both liked each other; otherwise, why talk so long?" "That’s your assumption. From my side, it’s accurate, but not necessarily from hers. She wouldn’t want to be rude and leave before I did." "Okay, I’ll ask Madam Kabir tomorrow." "Alright, Bhabhi."
May 22, 1978
Yesterday, I waited all day for Bhabhi’s call, but she didn’t. I assumed she received a negative response and avoided calling her out of fear of disappointment. Another sleepless night ensued. Unable to take it anymore, I called Bhabhi this morning. She said, "Madam didn’t ask her. She said she didn’t want to pressure her. Life’s biggest decisions are best taken calmly."
May 24, 78
Another two sleepless nights went by. I told Bhabhi, "Hasn't there been enough time for her decision? If Madam doesn’t want to ask, maybe you can." "Alright, let me see what can be done." Meanwhile, I was in a Majnu state in Laila’s absence. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t concentrate on any work. Despite my efforts, my colleagues in the department noticed. Some even asked if I was unwell!
May 26, 78
Finally, today Bhabhi called and said, "I asked her. She seems to like you, but wants to get to know you better. Meet a few more times, talk more, and then you both decide." I heaved a sigh of relief. (After that, I visited their house. I met her parents too. Then I asked her to come to the university one day, and she did.)
June 2, 1978
Today, Sally came to the university. Noticing my difficulty addressing her formally, she told me to call her 'Tumi.' I said, "On one condition, you have to call me 'Tumi' too." "I have no problem with that. My mother’s family and father’s family have completely opposite rules about this. From my mother’s side, even if a cousin is just a few days older, we must address them respectfully as 'Baji,' 'Apa,' or 'Bhaiya.'" “On my father’s side, those older than me are not only called 'Tumi,' they are addressed by their names. So, I’m used to both.”
June 7, 1978
I brought Sally to our house today. After talking with her for a while, she realized that my parents liked her very much. She became quite comfortable in no time, delighting my parents further. Dad told her, "Come whenever you want. I know both your parents are very busy. If you need a lift, call us. Our car is always available." She was amazed at our book collection, "I’ve never seen so many books in anyone’s home. This is a library." (Three walls of our drawing room are lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. But they can’t hold all the books, so the rest are scattered around the house. My room has the largest collection after the drawing room. But it was so untidy that I was hesitant to take her there. I told her that.) She said, "No problem. I’m quite messy myself." (Later, I found out she wasn’t lying!) I showed her around the book collection and asked, "Want to take a book?" "Certainly." She picked a book, and I was astonished—it was Freud’s "Interpretation of Dreams." The first English book I ever read from start to finish, back in eighth grade, was that very book. I told her, and she was surprised. (Afterwards, whenever she visited, she got along very well with Dad. Both were literature enthusiasts with a broad knowledge of world literature. I couldn’t join the discussions at their level due to my limited literary knowledge, remaining a captivated listener.) (My mother would actually embrace her and never let her leave without eating.) (One day, she joked, "I think I like your parents more than you." I replied, "Without me, you wouldn’t get them." "That's the problem!")
June 19, 78
Today, Mom asked, "Do they know your age?" "I don’t know if Bhabhi mentioned it to them." "You should ask her. I think the age difference between you two is quite significant. They should know that." "If Bhabhi didn’t tell them, it could become a major issue." "True. But it’s a matter of honesty. Trust and honesty are crucial for a happy marriage." "That’s true. But it could break the marriage." "If it must break, it’s better it’s before the marriage rather than after." "You don't mean that, Mom! I doubt any other mother would say that." "I’m not any other mother; I’m your mother. By now, you must know your mother." "After years of searching, I found a book-loving girl like me, and you suggest letting her go! How does that make sense? There isn’t another girl like her in all of Bangladesh. If I lose her, I might as well never marry." "That’s possible, but there’s another side to this." "Like?" "If they lose you, they won’t find another boy like you either. Just as unique as the girl is, you are unique too, even if a bit crazy. You two are quite similar in temperament, even in taste and food preferences. They must have noticed by now." "What can be done? It’s hard to win an argument with Mom. Dad respects her for her foresight too." In the evening, I called Bhabhi and asked. She said, "No, they didn’t ask, and I didn’t feel the need to tell them." "Why?" "Age is just a number. There’s also a matter of mentality, of maturity. Though the girl is younger, she’s not less mature than you." "Meaning, my maturity is less than my age?" "No, that's not what I’m saying. You know what I mean. Your maturity is just fine; otherwise, I wouldn’t have recommended you to them. Generally, girls mature physically and mentally before boys do, and in this girl’s case, it came even faster, probably due to her exceptional talent." "Still, I think you should inform them." "You tell Sally." "Ok, I will."
June 21, 78
Today, I told Sally, "You never asked my age." "You never asked mine." "Everyone knows your age. I do too." "And no one knows yours?" "Not everyone. I look a lot younger than my actual age. Want to know?" "How old?" "32." “You’re kidding.” "Not at all. It’s true." “I don’t believe you. You’re joking." "Alright, don’t believe it. If you assume I’m really 32, what will you do?" "I’ll have to think about it." "Okay, think about it." I suppose this is the end of the story. Time to start looking for a girl again.
June 23, 78
Yesterday, I decided not to call, and she didn’t either. My assumption strengthened. Suddenly today, she called. Talked normally, didn’t bring up the age issue. I couldn’t refrain from mentioning it. I asked, “Have you thought about what you needed to?” "You mean your age?" "Yes." “I discussed it with Maleka Apa. She said you were telling the truth, though I’m still struggling to believe it. I thought you were at most 25-26." “I knew you’d ask Maleka Bhabhi, and then be deeply troubled, perhaps even stop calling me.” “Are you insane? After knowing me all this time, is that what you think of me?” “Honestly, I was very worried.” “So listen, had I known your age before meeting you, I wouldn’t have met you. That would’ve been a huge mistake. I wouldn’t have discovered you. After being with you for so long, I now realize that the age difference isn’t that important. Compatibility of mind and mentality is far more important.” “I think so too. Although you seemed very young initially, after knowing you, I've never thought that." “Remember, Mark Twain said, ‘Age is a matter of the mind, if you don’t mind, it does not matter.’” We both laughed. (Later, I discovered she never told her parents about my age. I only told them a few years into our marriage.)
July 3, 78
Yesterday evening, I was chatting with Mom. She said, “You should reveal everything about yourself to that girl. Keep nothing secret. No surprises after marriage. That won’t end well. She should know beforehand that you’re a bit eccentric.” “Mom, you keep pushing me into one predicament after another! Barely got past the age issue, now I must present myself as a madman! In a world of madmen, the sane appear insane.” “Different people will perceive your habits differently. Some may not call them madness. See how Sally reacts. It’s your task to explain, and it should be done before marriage. You teach communication, don’t you? This will be the ultimate test of your communication skills.” What can be done? A mother’s command is paramount. Today, I told Sally, “My mom suggests I share all my ‘madness’ with you, so if we do get married, nothing surprises you later.” "Like what?” “I have no attraction to money.” “Neither do I.” “I can't easily leave a bookstore.” “Neither can I.” “Once, a public librarian left and locked me inside.” “Oh my God. Then?” “Luckily, a guard saw, so I got out.” “Lucky.” “These are the small ones, which you might handle easily, hence why I mentioned them first—to prepare you for the major 'madness’.” “Major madness?” “Yes, are you ready?” “Ready or not, tell me. I need to know.” “That’s why I’m telling you, though I’m taking a big risk by revealing everything.” “What risk?” “You might dump me.” “That’s not impossible. It depends.”
Our Wedding Story The Wedding That Wasn't Supposed to Happen Today is August 31st, 2023. Exactly 44 years ago, on August 31st, 1979, Salma and I got married in Dhaka. I never had the habit of writing diaries regularly. However, whenever something significant happened, I tried to jot it down. While going through my old diaries, I stumbled upon some entries from the time of our wedding 44 years ago. But reading those torn, insect-eaten, water-damaged pages was quite challenging. Interestingly, although the floods in Bangladesh never affected me, the floods in Ohio didn't spare me! I couldn't move my nearly six thousand books to my condo, so I temporarily stored them in a warehouse. The Cuyahoga River flooded the warehouse, and I lost many of my beloved books. Among the injured was this helpless diary. So, I've tried to salvage some select pages by digitizing them. Here are a few entries for our 44th wedding anniversary. Since these are personal writings, there's no embellishment and no secrets. That's why I hesitated to share it. Some things are known only to me among those still alive. I thought, at this old age, why keep secrets? So, I quoted them as they were, with a few comments or explanations here and there for clarity. From the Diary Pages
December 26, 1977
The event was the wedding of Maleka Bhabhi's brother. (Maleka Khan was the wife of Sakhawat Ali Khan, the then-chairman of the Journalism Department at Dhaka University, and a family friend. I was a young lecturer in that department at the time.) Arriving at the Ladies Club in Dhaka on time, I noticed very few guests had arrived yet. Everyone was busy organizing. In a corner, I saw the esteemed retired IG, Mr. Alamgir Kabir, sitting on a chair. Mr. Kabir was a figure admired for his honesty, diligence, and courage. He had defied illegal orders from Governor Monem Khan, earning everyone's respect. He was the only high-ranking government official who resigned in protest against the misrule of the Ayub-Monem government. Upon receiving his resignation, President Ayub Khan personally went to Mr. Kabir's house, requesting him to retract his resignation, which Mr. Kabir, while showing due respect and hospitality, did not. I knew Mr. Kabir. He was a distant relative. I greeted him and sat beside him, realizing he found my face familiar but couldn't quite recognize me. I didn't feel the need to introduce myself further. I asked, "Hasn't Khalamma (Mrs. Kabir) come?" He replied, "She's in Paris for the Girl Guides conference." His wife was the daughter of Khwaja Shahabuddin, a famous diplomat and brother of Khwaja Nazimuddin from the Dhaka Nawab family. She had been a leader in the Girl Guides movement for a long time and was the commissioner of East Pakistan Girl Guides for years. Known for her philanthropy and public service, she was instrumental in establishing the renowned Viqarunnisa Noon School in Dhaka. Maleka Khan had been involved with Girl Guides for a long time and was a close friend of one of her elder daughters. We chatted for a while, and soon more guests started arriving. Many were eager to sit beside him, so I gave up my chair for someone and got up. There was no further conversation with him that night. This evening, Maleka Bhabhi called me unexpectedly and said, "Mr. Kabir liked you very much." I asked why, and she replied, "You know he has a marriageable daughter?" I confirmed, and she continued, "He seems to be looking for a groom and seems to have liked you." I inquired how she concluded that, and she recounted, "Yesterday, he pointed you out to me and asked, 'Who is this young man?'" I clarified, "That doesn't mean he likes me for his daughter." She said, "Then what does it mean?" I explained, "I sat with him and talked for quite some time. He couldn't quite place me, so he asked you. That's all." She insisted, "No, there's more to it." I dismissed it, saying, "It seems he was curious about who the familiar face belonged to, that's all." She persisted, "Well, he's looking for a groom, and you're looking for a bride. I have done matchmaking before; why not one more?" I politely declined. I recounted an incident where my uncle suggested me as a potential groom when Mr. Kabir's family was looking for a match. My mother had asked me, and I declined mainly because I couldn't speak Urdu. My parents, having relatives who spoke Urdu, learned it naturally. But during the Language Movement period, learning Urdu was considered sinful, so I never developed an interest. I explained, "Speaking with in-laws who might not understand Bengali would create a barrier." She reassured me, "Mr. Kabir's daughter knows Bengali very well and would seamlessly fit into our family." I expressed surprise, as no one had told me that. Bhabhi insisted, "Come over one day, and we'll discuss more. No need to rush; take your time."
February 7, 1978
After class, I visited Bhabhi's house, having informed her earlier. As we sat on the porch, she asked, "When did you last see Sally?" I confessed, "I've never seen her grown-up, wouldn't recognize her now." I humorously added, "When I last saw her, she was a mischievous and lively child." Bhabhi assured me, "She doesn't seem mischievous any longer." I probed, "What does she look like?" Bhabhi quipped, "Have you seen anyone in the Nawab family who's not attractive?" I agreed, but cautioned, "But she's not entirely from that family." Bhabhi countered, "Don't worry about that; you'll like her when you see her." I pondered the materialistic lifestyle differences, expressing my concerns about our middle-class background compared to Nawab family's luxurious life. Bhabhi lightened the mood, "But you don't live a spartan life either." I jokingly compared, "It's like comparing cities–where's Agartala, and where's Ugi-r-tola?" Bhabhi and I discussed the importance of shared philosophies in marriage, emphasizing that while appearances matter, they aren't everything. In my experience, aligning views on life was crucial for a happy marriage, much more than family status. Bhabhi suggested organizing a meeting with Sally when she returned to the country. I was intrigued and somewhat concerned, pondering over Bhabhi's insights about the Kabir family being different from the stereotype.
May 19, 1978
A light rain gave way to a sweet sunshine. Maleka Bhabhi was sitting on the porch, waiting for us, it seemed. I was the first to arrive. I asked about Sally's father, and Bhabhi informed me he had just left for a bridge tournament. Sally soon drove up. Bhabhi was right; she was quite pretty—charming face, wearing a green printed saree, lightly adorned with jewelry, appearing no more than sixteen despite being twenty-one. Her face was modest yet cheerful, noble even, invoking instant warmth with her sweet smile. Bhabhi left us in the drawing room, jesting that she'd be gone for a while and we should call the housemaid if needed. Left alone, I was initially worried her youthful demeanor might not match my maturity. But she soon took the lead in our conversation, displaying no hesitation or awkwardness as she seamlessly navigated topics from family backgrounds to hobbies. Within minutes, my initial stiffness vanished, and I felt as if conversing with an old friend rather than meeting for the first time. Her social grace was astounding; she could delicately steer personal questions without offending, making it easy for me to open up. I realized, despite my attempts to maintain decorum, she was adept at putting me at ease, ensuring my occasional gruffness went unnoticed. Her poise reminded me of King George VI's famous gesture of drinking water from his finger bowl alongside the Shah of Iran, highlighting incredible hospitality. Similarly, Sally epitomized subtle elegance, gently gathering personal insights into my life. As our rapport developed, discussion naturally veered towards books and shared intellectual pursuits. She had majored in history, aligning with my academic interests, and soon our discourse encompassed art, literature, and philosophical perspectives. Her cultivated intelligence was extraordinary for her age, presenting a counterpart to my university teaching role. I was astounded by her intellectual depth, akin to engaging with a scholarly professor rather than a student. Her solitary upbringing, with her sister studying abroad and busy parents, had made books her steadfast companions. Her home housed extensive book collections, and any book she desired, her parents ensured she acquired. Two hours flew by, unnoticed until Bhabhi returned. She mentioned observing our cars in the driveway earlier but opting not to disturb us. Internally, I felt I had found the person I had waited for, echoing Talat Mahmood's famous song lyrics. Yet, I pondered whether she shared similar feelings. Despite her civility, I couldn't discern her mind's inclinations. Uncertainty lingered as I returned home, the refrain of a Bengali love song resonating—"Whatever my heart desires, it's you, only you."
May 20, 1978
Last night sleep evaded me, torn between euphoria and apprehension. While I'd fallen for many girls unilaterally before, none had enchanted me so completely upon first meeting. What if she didn't reciprocate? The thought was unbearable, as Rabindranath Tagore's song echoed in my mind, questioning the pains of love. I called Bhabhi the next morning, inquiring if she'd gleaned any insights. She teased me, noting my naivety, adding, "If you both didn't enjoy each other's company, why talk so long?" Despite her encouragement, I couldn't shake the fear she might have been merely courteous. Bhabhi promised to ask Madam Kabir and let me know.
May 22, 1978
I awaited Bhabhi's call all day yesterday, but it never came. Assuming a negative outcome, I refrained from reaching out. Fear of hearing a rejection kept me restless another night. Unable to endure the suspense any longer, I called Bhabhi this morning. She explained Madam Kabir hadn't pressured Sally for an answer, preferring she take her time for such a significant decision.
May 24, 1978
Another sleepless night passed. I implored Bhabhi, "Hasn't she had enough time to decide? If Madam Kabir won't ask, could you?" Bhabhi agreed to try. Meanwhile, my lovesickness reached a fever pitch. At work, I struggled to hide my distress; colleagues began asking if I was ill.
May 26, 1978
Finally, Bhabhi called today, saying she had spoken to Sally. Sally seemed generally favorable towards me but wanted to know me better. We were encouraged to meet a few more times before making any decisions. Relief washed over me. We then arranged another visit to her family, meeting her parents, and later invited Sally to the university.
June 2, 1978
Sally visited the university today. She noticed my difficulty addressing her formally, so she suggested I use the informal "tumi" with her. I agreed, provided she do the same with me. She explained her mother's family's custom of using formal titles even among close relatives contrasted with her father's family's informal approach.
June 7, 1978
Today, I brought Sally to my parents' home. Instantly at ease in their company, she quickly sensed their affection, making her feel comfortable, which delighted my parents even more. Abba invited her to visit anytime, offering our family's transportation services if needed since her parents were often busy. Sally was impressed by our house's extensive book collection, exclaiming she'd never seen so many books in one home—it was a library. (Our drawing room had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on three walls, with more books scattered throughout the house. Although my room contained the largest collection after the drawing room, its clutter made me hesitate to bring her there.) She quipped about possibly preferring my parents over me, to which I joked about that being a problem since they'd only be available to her through marriage to me. Our interactions became more relaxed as she repeatedly visited, building a unique bond with my parents. My father's literary interests and her own aligned perfectly, creating stimulating conversations I could seldom match.
June 19, 1978
Mother broached a topic today, asking if Sally's family knew my age. I wasn't sure if Maleka Bhabhi had informed them, and Mother insisted they needed to know. The age difference was significant, and honesty in relationships was crucial, even at the risk of breaking the engagement. Mother's wisdom was undeniable, so I reluctantly agreed to talk to Sally about it. That evening, I discussed the matter with Maleka Bhabhi, who hadn't mentioned it to Sally's family. She felt Sally was mature beyond her years, despite the age difference, and suggested I address it directly with Sally.
June 21, 1978
I told Sally today, "You've never asked my age," to which she replied, "Nor have you asked mine." I assured her I knew her age and mentioned many didn't know mine, implying it was deceptively youthful. I confessed my true age of 32, leaving her incredulous, assuming it was a joke. I pressed the issue, "If my age is indeed 32, what would you do?" Sally was noncommittal, asking for time to think it over. I feared the worst, anticipating a fresh start in search of another potential match—something I dreaded as no one shared Sally's uniqueness.
June 23, 1978
Neither Sally nor I called the following day, reinforcing my suspicions. But she rang today, casually conversing without broaching the topic, so I couldn't resist asking, "Did you think over what we discussed?" She confirmed speaking to Maleka Bhabhi, who verified my age claim, though Sally found it hard to believe, assuming I was only 25-26. I admitted expecting her to consult Bhabhi and later overthink the matter, potentially ceasing communication. Sally reassured me, saying she would've missed discovering the real me had she known my age beforehand. Ultimately, shared values and mental compatibility mattered more than chronological age—a sentiment I echoed regarding her apparent youthful appearance against her mature disposition. We both laughed, recalling Mark Twain's quip: "Age is a matter of the mind; if you don't mind, it doesn't matter." She revealed keeping my age from her parents, something I later disclosed years into our marriage.
July 3, 1978
While chatting with Mother yesterday, she advised revealing everything about myself to Sally, including my quirks and eccentricities. Any surprises post-nuptials could be detrimental, implying I should disclose my idiosyncrasies pre-marriage. Initially apprehensive Mother was setting me up for failure—I had barely overcome the age hurdle, now facing potential self-sabotage by exposing peculiarities. Mother insisted on transparency, noting Sallie should be privy to them if we were to live harmoniously. As a communication expert, I faced a personal test of my own communication skills. Today, I candidly shared my eccentricities with Sally, from having no monetary ambitions to lingering in bookstores, recounting being locked in a public library by an unwitting librarian—a saga that fortunately ended well thanks to the watchful guard. I prepared her further, hinting these anecdotes were preambles for greater idiosyncrasies to come, albeit risky disclosures she needed to know. Sally, ever pragmatic, acknowledged potential risk but was determined to learn more, encouraging candidness. Her response highlighted the risks people took in relationships, balancing vulnerability with shared understanding. As we navigated these revelations, our connection deepened—each candid disclosure reinforcing our compatibility while fostering trust, ultimately guiding us towards a future together.
Version 2: More like Word By Word:
The Story of Our Marriage
The marriage that wasn't to take place
Today is August 31, 2023. Exactly 44 years ago, on August 31, 1979, Salma and I were married in Dhaka. I had no habit of writing a regular diary, but sometimes I tried to write it down when something significant happened. It is very difficult to eat insects, read umbrellas, porous, flooded leaves. About 6,000 of my books could not be transferred to a condo, so I temporarily kept them in a warehouse. And at the same time, many of my dear book friends were forced to sacrifice l and among the wounded was this helpless diary of mine, so I am trying to decipher some of its selected pages and protect them on the computer. I am quoting some of them here on the occasion of our forty-fourth wedding anniversary l There is no pomp in it because it is written for myself l There is no privacy l That's why I hesitated to share l Here are the things that are alive except me No one else in the middle knows l I thought, what else will happen by protecting the secret in this old age l so I quoted it as it was written.
From the diary page
December 26, 1977
The ceremony was the marriage of Maleka Bhabi's brother. (Maleka Khan is the wife of the then chairman of the journalism department of Dhaka University Sakhawat Ali Khan and our family friend.
Mr. Kabir deserves everyone's praise for his honesty, efficiency and courage l He was respected by all by disobeying the illegal order of Governor Monem Khan, he was the only high government official who resigned in protest against the misrule of the Ayub-Monaem government. He did not withdraw his resignation.
When I was a journalist, I noticed that all the leading people of Bangladesh including Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and Ziaur Rahman respected Mr. Kabir very much. Both Rahman requested him to become a minister which he politely declined. Mr. Alamgir Kabir protected the reputation of Mejda Humayun Kabir by possessing it.
I know Kabir Saheb, who is also a distant relative, I saluted and sat beside him, I realized that my face seemed familiar to him, but he did not recognize me properly.
Said
:She's in Paris for the Girl Guides conference.
His wife Mrs. Tahera Kabir, daughter of the famous diplomat Khwaja Shahabuddin, brother of Khwaja Nazimuddin of the Nawab family of Dhaka, has been in the forefront of the Girl Guides movement for a long time, and was the Commissioner of East Pakistan Girl Guides for a long time.
As we talked for a while, many of the other guests came and saw that many people were interested in sitting next to him.
Suddenly, this evening, Maleka Bhabi called me and said,
: Mr. Kabir liked you very much.
Why, I think?
"He has a marriageable daughter, you know.
I know, but so what?
: He's looking for a guy for that girl l I think he likes you a lot.
: How do you know?
"Yesterday he called me aside and pointed at you and said, "Who is this boy?"
"That doesn't mean he likes me for his daughter.
Otherwise, what will happen?
: I know what happened l I sat next to him and talked to him for a while l he didn't recognize me exactly l so he asked from you l nothing else.
: No, I think a lot more l You recognized your father's name l I thought you knew everyone in your family l You asked what you do l You think I don't understand
: I think you are a very intelligent woman, no doubt about it l but you are a little wrong in this matter l he wanted to know who the boy behind this familiar face l he was a little embarrassed not to recognize me l did not want to ask me directly l so he asked you in a gap l this is nothing more than l l
: What is it l he is looking for a boy, and you are looking for a wife l and I have also done a couple of matchmaking before l or else I have done another, what do you say?
: I don't think thank you.
:Why?
: Listen to me
: Ball l
A few months ago, Noor Chacha (Nurul Hussain is one of my father's five brothers) came to our house and said to my mother, "I thought, yesterday Kabir Bhai and Tahera Apa came to our house.
My mom replied, "Okay, I'll tell him."
I could hear everything from my room l I said no to my mother the day my uncle left.
:Why?
: The main reason is that I don't speak Urdu.
Why, both your parents speak Urdu well.
: Because some of their relatives used to speak Urdu at home, they learned Urdu at an early age.
We grew up during the Language Movement, when we were taught Urdu, a great sin. Maybe that's why he didn't teach us.
"Then how do you talk to the relatives of the Nawab family?"
: In Bangla l They all understand Bangla l Some may speak well l Although not all of them
My Sagira Chachi's Bangla is so bad that I always have to speak to her in English (Nawab Salimullah's granddaughter Sagira Bano is the wife of Noor Chacha)
: Now I understand the reason for your fear l Sagira aunty seems to be judging you all.
Not only Sagira Chachi, many people in the family can not speak good Bangla.
: You are wrong l Kabir Saheb's daughter knows Bangla very well Although they speak Urdu at home, listening to her Bangla you will not understand that her mother tongue is not Bengali.
:True?
: Yes, I have seen that girl since a very young age l She does not speak to me in any language other than Bengali.
: No one has told me this. Many relatives do not know him because he is studying abroad.
: That's right l Listen, come to our house one day l We can discuss the details l I will not force you at all l but you need to know all the pros and cons l all your ideas about them are not right l Know everything correctly and then decide l There is no reason to hurry l He is still abroad
: Okay, think, i'll come.
7 February 1978
Today after the holidays, I went to their house with Sir l Maleka had already informed Bhabi l As soon as we sat on the verandah, Bhabi came to the verandah with tea covered in tea on a tray.
When was the last time you saw Sally? (Sally Salma's nickname was called by her family and friends.)
"I haven't seen him since I was growing up.
When I saw him, he was a very naughty and fickle child.
Now it doesn't look like he was once so naughty.
"He didn't tell me what he looked like.
: You didn't ask.
: I'm doing it now l
: Have you seen anyone from the Nawab's family who is not good-looking?
: I didn't see it, but he's not entirely from the Nawab family.
: You don't have to worry about that l you will like to see l
Of course, appearance is only one of many considerations l There are many things to consider about marriage l The children of the Nawab family are accustomed to such luxurious lifestyle that they find it difficult to adapt to a middle-class family like ours.
"And you don't live a luxurious life either.
: What are you saying l Where is Agartala, and where is Ugir Tala l (Ugi = Macha)l
: I know your Uggie's floor, I have also seen your house in Noakhali.
The biggest thing is the philosophy of life l If the life philosophy of husband and wife is not the same or at least close, then a happy married life is almost impossible.
: I completely agree with you on this.
: That is my main consideration l I can not relate myself to the girls of the Nawab family in these matters l Although I do not know Sally, I know some of the girls of that family very well l My cousin is also like the girls of the typical Nawab family l So it did not take me any time to say "no" l There was no hesitation l l
: The more I hear about you, the more I feel that Kabir Sahib liked you properly.
"How, I think?"
You have no idea about Madam Kabir and her daughters l their family is not at all like the typical Nawab family l Even your Sagira Chachi is very different from Madam Kabir l Although they are cousins l
: Is that so? Of course, I have never seen Mrs. Kabir up close.
: You will like it very much l very effective l You will want to call mother l
I've heard that from many people about Mrs. Kabir.
: But like you, my main consideration is the girl l you told me what kind of girl you were looking for l a well-educated intelligent girl who loves to read books like you l who is more adept at intellectual discussion than family and can challenge you, so that you can stimulate each other's intelligence.
: I see you remember correctly.
: This girl is such a girl l I don't think there are many girls in Dhaka city who can fulfill your criteria.
: If it was right, I would have found it by now.
You'll be surprised to know how similar he is to you.
:Such as?
:Like you, he has a lot of education, and at this age, I am amazed at his knowledge.
:So?
: He has more outside education than textbooks. Not only that, he can speak four languages l He can read five languages.
: This time you are very nervous.
: It's a matter of nervousness as a student, she is no less than you, she will see that she will be first class first this time.
"Then he needs a smarter boy than me."
"Why, are you afraid?"
: It's about being scared.
: Look, I have thought, judging from all sides, there is no boy equal to him in Bangladesh, you come closer, so they have to compromise.
: Their family is not limited to Bangladesh l Spread all over the subcontinent and outside the world l You can find it somewhere.
: But their preference is Bangladeshi Bengali, you know that their eldest daughter Nasrin is married to a diplomat.
:So?
: Look, I've been thinking about you for a long time l I know what kind of girl you're looking for l And I know what kind of boy I need for that girl.
:Divine Providence?
:What the girl needs is an intellectual boy from a family of the same level or close to the level l There is no equal family l If you get a family of the same level, the intellectual boy does not match, and if the intellectual boy is matched, the family of the nearest level does not match. They won't find a boy like you.
: I thought, I thought I had to rethink everything.
: She's not materialistic at all, just like you l She has no interest in money l She is very simple L She enjoys studies and intellectual conversations l That is the kind of environment she feels most comfortable l She will blend in with your family
: Do you think so?
: Of course l or else I wouldn't have talked l Just a few months ago, Madam Kabir told me that Sally is returning home after graduation l As if to see a boy l I was thinking of you from the beginning l Now Kabir Sahib has made it very easy.
:How come?
: You know you well l I don't have to be re-acquainted
: You have to know Madam Kabir.
: That will be l half the work is reduced l I think, everything is falling in place! See, marriage is in the hands of Allah l We are only an occasion l What Allah has put in your fate will happen.
: That's right, as it is true that our Prophet said, "Trust on God, but your Camel."
: Of course l your canal l consider everything well l I think it is a matter of great fortune for any young man not only in Bangladesh but also in this subcontinent to be able to marry in that family.
: I think, I am not marrying the family l I am marrying a girl l If his and my philosophy of life do not match, then the family will not be able to do anything.
: That's right, that's why you should consider all aspects l You know a lot about Madam Kabir's family l because you are relatives l But I don't know how much you know about the poet's family l But he grew up under the influence of two families l That's why you need to know better about the poet's family l Then you will understand the girl better l She did not grow up only under the influence of the Nawab family.
: Maybe you're right.
Of course, many people have heard about Humayun Kabir, but not many people know about the rest of the family.
: Actually, I don't know either.
Four of their six brothers were or are holding ministerial or equivalent positions in India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, these three countries.
While studying at Oxford, Humayun Kabir was known as the best student of that time. Before him, no one other than White had been elected to that position.
:So?
: And in terms of nobility they are no less l a historical family.
Humayun Kabir's grandfather Munsif Amiruddin Ahmed was the grandson of Haji Shariatullah, the founder of the Faraizi movement in Bangladesh (friend of Titumir).
: Is that so? I didn't know it l
See, the two most elite and successful families of Bangladesh have been connected in the marriage of Alamgir Kabir and Tahera Kabir and their daughter is Sally l Nawab Salimullah's Great Granddaughter l She is our princess! Our Princess!
: Done! Now I have to be a prince!
: There is no prince l what can be done l
I know that they do not have a pair in Bangladesh in terms of family, but family is not important to me about marriage.
"Of course, that's why you need to know each other better.
It was decided that Maleka would arrange for the two of us to meet, when Sally returned home.
I couldn't help asking:
Why did his parents give him such an old name?
Said
: That's another history Before Sally's birth, they went on a trip to Lebanon for a vacation l There Mrs. Kabir met a well-respected Sufi woman named Madame Salma.
On the way back home, I thought, what a funny thing about my elder brother's marriage with Sally's elder sister about 15 years ago, both my parents were very enthusiastic about it, but before sending the marriage proposal, my brother almost went mad seeing a beautiful woman in Balyadi House in Dhaka (daughter of the famous scholar Dr. SM Hossain, former Vice-Chancellor of Dhaka University and niece of the then Chief Justice of East Pakistan, Justice BA Siddiqui). l (Mr. Alamgir Kabir and Mrs. Tahera Kabir came to that wedding ceremony in 1964 with their two daughters l) One of my brother's classmates, a diplomat friend, later married to Sally's elder sister.
Nineteenth May, 78
A shower of rain fell and the sweet sunshine rose l The sun has set in the western sky l A gentle breeze is blowing l Maleka Bhabi is sitting on the verandah drinking tea l It seems that she is waiting for us l I arrived first l I saluted and asked,
"Where is sir?"
: Just headed to the University Club l He has a bridge tournament today l
No sooner had he finished than Sally's car pulled into the driveway.
Bhabi is right. l Looks beautiful l Sweet face l Wearing a green print saree l No makeup mark on her face l Light jewelry on fair body l Round cheeks l Light body l Twenty-one years old but looks sixteen l Shy humble, but smiling face l Chubby innocent face with the impression of nobility l Bhabi smiled sweetly as soon as he introduced it l I caught a glimpse of her beautiful teeth l
She took us into the drawing-room and let us sit down.
: I'm going out l If you need anything, tell Myna's mother l I told her to give you tea l Stay as long as you want l Go whenever you want l I may not return before that l l
Saying this, the sister-in-law went away.
There is a big age difference between me and him so I was a little disappointed to see his young face l Then hearing the voice of a teenager made that frustration stronger. I thought to myself, maybe I will not stay long l Maturity may not have come yet compared to his age l It will be very difficult to adapt to me l
The adored daughter of a rich man l Bound by nobility and abundance, never came in contact with the common people, , as a result of studying in residential schools abroad, she did not get a chance to know her country and society well. On top of that, she looks so young and delicate l I could not understand how to talk to this girl. I have a serious face like an angry schoolmaster. l The serious word may have come from there. Several to break the fears of my new students It takes time l create humor in class and mix closely with them outside the class to get rid of their fears l it takes time l Now I don't have that time l These thoughts came to mind.
My students are his age l so the word "you" was not coming out of their mouths l On the other hand, I know that Urdu speakers do not easily say you to anyone.
I didn't know what to talk about l I was talking a little bit l He seems to have realized that I can't be easy l Surprised me he started leading our conversation l It seemed that he had no stiffness in what to say, how to say it, l In pure pronunciation in clear Bangla From our mutual family to school, College, leisure time, he raised these issues one after the other in a very simple way. In a few minutes I also lost my stiffness l I didn't feel like it was the first time I met this girl. I was surprised by her skill in conversation. How to get to know another better by asking indirect personal questions in a very polite way without hurting, It's at his fingertips.
Not that I am very rude, but I don't understand l but the subtlety of politeness like hers is beyond my control. In spite of my caution, there was a little rudeness from time to time --in voice or choice of words, after making mistakes, sometimes I was embarrassed to realize l but I saw that he was taking all my mistakes in order to relieve me of embarrassment, in such a way that I felt that my behavior was right.
His extreme politeness reminded me of Emperor George VI I heard that King Reza Shah of Iran had mistakenly drank water from the finger bowl given to wash his fingers at the dinner held in honor of King Reza Shah of Iran at Buckingham Palace. This girl was doing that to me.
In spite of such extraordinarily subtle and chubby politeness, in a short time he had learned so much about me, which many of my friends did not even know, imitating him, I then began to know about him in return, but it seemed that he did not hesitate to say anything about himself l or he was deliberately making my job easier.
We already knew that we both love to read books. So in a short time it came up in words l History was one of my favorite subjects when I was in college l And he did honors in history l So started with history l But after a while the discussion spread to many other topics.
I noticed that he didn't use a single English word until I used an English word.
Suddenly, English came out of my mouth, he replied in English - I am a fan of British Accent l I was very happy to hear his English l I spoke in English for a while to hear more. l It seems that English is his mother tongue. Of course, since I do not know Urdu, I did not have the good fortune to hear Urdu l Even if I hear, I do not have the ability to judge its quality.
From favorite books, authors, pictures, art literature to philosophy of life, nothing is left out of our discussion. After a while, I felt like I was talking to a scholar professor, not a student!
I asked him how he got the time to study so much at such a young age l said that he grew up alone when he was young, his only sister was studying in a residential school in Mari, a health home in Pakistan, which did not get much contact or companionship from her both parents are busy outside all day l Books are his only companions, who never leave him alone l There are many books at home, including the collection of the Encyclopædia Britannica and the Great Books of Western Civilization. When the parents bought the book they wanted.
When I returned, I looked at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see that it had been two hours!
Bhabhi said, he came once in the middle l but saw both our cars in the driveway and went to a friend's house next door l did not want to disturb us.
I thought to myself, I have found the girl I have been waiting for so many years. I remembered Talat Mahmood's famous song:
"I feel like I'm just looking for you
Oh Nirupama, you came so hold Mansi's idol."
But I don't know if he found the man he was waiting for l She was so polite that there was no way to understand l Even if she disliked me, she wouldn't let me know l And I don't have the insight to look inside her mind l So I came home with an uncertainty l On the way back I thought of Guy, "You are what I want, you are."
May 20, 1978
I didn't sleep last night. Extreme pleasure and deep pain flowed in the same stream. I have fallen in love with many girls in my life, but in the first meeting, I have never been tied to anyone's magic like this. It seemed to me, "Who is love, is he only tormented?"
I called my sister-in-law in the morning and asked if she understood anything.
No, you don't understand?
: How do I know?
: You look so clumsy.
"Maybe that's why he's always been so polite and formal that I couldn't break through his walls and get in.
"No, I didn't try to find out l I didn't ask anything l I think you both liked each other, otherwise why are you talking for so long?"
"That's your idea, from my point of view, but what's right from his side?" Maybe he didn't want to go ahead of me, thinking it would be rude.
: Okay, I'll ask Madam Kabir tomorrow.
: Okay, I think.
May 22, 1978
Yesterday I was waiting for Bhabi's call all day l but Bhabi did not call l I thought you must have got a negative answer l I did not call Bhabi for fear of being disappointed l Another night's sleep was wasted.
Unable to stay any longer, I called my sister-in-law this morning.
: Madam did not ask him l said that he did not want to give pressure l It is better to take the biggest decision of life slowly.
May 24, 78
Two more sleepless nights passed.
I told my sister-in-law,
"Isn't there enough time for him to decide?" If Madame doesn't want to ask, you either don't ask.
Okay, let's see what we can do.
Meanwhile, I am in the condition of Majnu without Lily, I can not sleep, nor can I do any work, I can not avoid everyone's eyes even after trying in the department.
May 26, 78
Finally today Bhabi called and said,
: I asked him l I think he likes you l but wants to know a little better l you meet a few more times, talk l then you decide.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
(Then I went to their house l I also met his parents l then I asked him to come to university one day l came l )
June 2, 1978
Today came Sally University l.
Seeing that I was having a hard time addressing him as you, he asked me to tell him to you.
: On one condition l you must also tell me you l l
: I won't have any problem with that. In this regard, the rules of my mother's family and father's family are completely opposite.
And the cousins on my father's side who are my elders don't just call them "you" l I call them by name l so I'm used to both.
June 7, 1978
I brought Sally to our house today and after my parents talked to her for a while, she realized that they liked her very much.
Dad said to him,
: Come whenever you want l I know both your parents are very busy l If you need a lift, call l Our car is lying down.
He was very surprised to see the collection of books in our house.
"I've never seen so many books in anyone's house. It's a library.
(The three walls of our drawing room have bookshelves from floor to ceiling but it does not contain all the books, so the rest of the books are scattered all over the house. But my room was so messy that I was hesitant to go l I told him l) He said,
: No problem l I am very messy myself l (I found out later, he didn't lie!)
I turned around and showed him all the collections of books.
What book do you want to take?
:Definitely l
He chose a book l but I was surprised by the book he chose. l It was a book, Freud's "Interpretation of Dreams" l It was surprising that the English book I had read from beginning to end in life was the same book l Then I was in class eight l I told him l he was also surprised.
(After that, whenever he came to our house, he got along very well with my father, both of them were literary, both of them were well educated in world literature and my limited education in literature was not qualified to join the discussion at the same level, I was only in the role of a fascinated listener.
My mom would actually hug her and never leave without eating.
One day he joked,
"I think I like your parents better than you do."
Said
"But you won't get them without me.
: That's the problem! )
June 19, 78
Mom asked today,
Do they know your age?
: I don't know if Maleka told them.
: Ask him l I think your age difference is too much l they should know that.
I wonder if you don't tell them, that could be a big problem.
: That's right l But you have to tell it l This is a question of honesty l Mutual trust and honesty are an essential condition of a happy marriage.
: That's right, but this could lead to the breakdown of the marriage.
If it has to be broken, then it is better to break it first than to break it after marriage.
"What are you saying, Mom?" I don't think any other mother would have said that.
"I'm not another mother, you're your mother, you must have known your mother by now."
After so many years of searching, I found a bookish girl like me, and you say let's break up this relationship! Is that a thing? There is no such girl in the whole of Bangladesh.
That's possible, but there's another side to it.
:Such as?
: If they lose you, they won't get a boy like you. That girl is unique, as well as you are crazy, but she is a unique boy.
What else can be done l It is difficult to win by arguing with Amma l Dad also respects him for his foresight.
I called my sister-in-law in the evening and asked.
Said
"No, they didn't ask, and I didn't need to tell you.
:Why?
: Age is not just a number l There is a mentality issue l There is a matter of maturity l That girl is younger but she is not less mature than you.
That means, my maturity is less than my age!
: No, I am not saying that l you must understand what I am saying l your maturity is correct l otherwise I would not have recommended you to them l Both physical and mental maturity of girls usually come before boys l And in the case of this girl it has come even faster l Perhaps because of her extraordinary talent.
"But I think you need to know.
"You tell Sally.
: Okay, I'll do it.
June 21, 78
Today I said to Sally,
"You never asked me how old I was.
"You didn't even ask me how old I was.
Everyone knows your age and I know your age.
Does anyone know your age?
"A lot of people don't know that I'm older than I look, do you want to hear that?"
:How much?
: ৩২
: You are kidding l
: Not at all l true l l
: I don't believe you're joking l l
"Okay, don't believe me, if you assume I'm really 32, what will you do?"
: You have to think l
: Okay, think about it.
I assume this is the end of the story and we have to start seeing the girl again.
June 23, 78
I didn't call again yesterday l he didn't l I guess this time it was a little more ripe.
Suddenly today he called l spoke normally l did not talk about age l I couldn't help but l said,
Have you thought about what you should have considered?
Are you talking about your age?
: Yes l
: Talked to Maleka Apa l She said you spoke the truth l Although I still have a hard time believing l I thought you would not be more than 25-26 years old.
: I knew you would ask Maleka Bhabhi l and then you would be very worried l Maybe you won't call me again.
: Are you out of your mind? After knowing me for so long, do you think so?
"Honestly, I was very worried.
: Then listen l If I had known about your age before I first saw you, I would not have met you l it would have been a big mistake l As a result of that I would not have discovered you l Having mixed with you for so long, now I realize that the age difference is not so important l The similarity of mind and mentality is much more important than this.
"I think so too. Although I thought you were very childish the first time, I never felt like that after I met you.
Mark Twain said, "First ISIS a Matter of the Mind, If You Don't Mind, It Does Not Matter."
We both laughed.
(I found out later that he had never told his parents about my age l I told them a few years after my marriage l)
July 3, 78
Yesterday afternoon I was chatting with my mother.
: Tell that girl everything about you l Don't keep anything secret l There should be no surprise after marriage l That won't be good in the end l She should know that you are a little crazy
"Mom, you're just putting me in one danger after another! I have crossed the age gap with a lot of difficulty, now I have to show as crazy! Where everyone is crazy, everyone thinks healthy people are crazy.
: You say crazy and say health, different people see those habits of yours in different ways l Not everyone will call them crazy l See how Sally takes it l You have the responsibility to explain to her l and it should be done before marriage l You study communication l This will be the ultimate test of your own communication skills.
What else can be done l Mother's order l
Today I said to Sally,
My mother said, "Let me tell you all my madness, so that if we get married, you will not be surprised by any of my behavior."
:Such as?
"I have no interest in money.
: I don't have either.
I can't get out of the bookstore easily.
: Me too.
: Once the librarian of a public library locked me and left.
"Oh my God, then?"
"Thankfully, the doorman saw it, so I was able to get out.
: Thankfully.
"I've told you about the little ones, you might be able to take them easily, so I'm actually preparing you for the big crazy things?"
"More madness?"
"Yes, are you ready?"
"Whether I'm ready or not, tell me I need to know that."
: That's why I'm telling you a lot of risks.
: What risk?
: You can dump me and leave.
: It's not impossible.
...