It was almost two months since I came down from dubai after having spent a good 20 years on the Arab soil. I did visit Bangladesh often during my tenure in the “land of Gold”, but then I came down to settle down with my husband after my wedding in march 2003. Having spend so long in dubai under total security, safety and freedom I was not prepared for what fate had in store for me in the afternoon of 10th march 2004.
It was a bright sunny day and I was in the best of moods. For a couple of days things seem to be falling into places. Only little did I know the mood that day was going to be an unforgettable nightmare.
My paternal home stands on 7gonda within the 2 acres of land a little away from the city center in the port city of Chittagong. Dad always had a nag for the nature and made a pond within the area along with a mosque onto its right. Ours is a three story building with the residence on the third floor and commercialized community hall covering the first and the second floor. My parents shifted to the third floor while the downstairs construction was in progress. On that particular day there were some 20 workers on duty.
I was in the dining room and pre-occupied with my upcoming exams. It was my first semester mid-term exams in the MBA program in IIUC in Chittagong. My father was busy with his work in the bedroom while our two elderly maids were at their work in the kitchen. I was too glued to the books to realize somebody had pushed opened the main door until the door shut with a loud thud. On raising my head I was too dumbfounded and startled on what lay ahead of me. I didn’t know how to react or what to say. I was totally shaking and thought my heart skipped a beat. I felt the world spinning around me and as though I stood still at the passage of time. There stood right in front of me about 10 to 15 fifteen man with covered faces and different kinds of weapons clutched onto their hands. .The head it seemed, was the one who comforted himself on the sofa while ten of them dispersed at quick paces to different directions at home .At a glace the ones who dispersed had long shooting guns in hand, the ones around their boss had swords, pistols, knives, saw, and other dangerous weapons. The head himself held his grip onto a beautifully hand decorated silver pistol. Everything then seemed like a dream. As though, I would wake up any minute, stretch out my hands and sigh a relief. But then it wasn’t, it was reality. This and fear both sank deep into my heart, mind and skin. I tried to compose balance in the face of terror. But I was sweating and my hands were itchy. I did not know what fear actually meant until that very moment. Two, among the five men pointed their gun and held their gaze onto me. My heart pounded and raced faster and faster every passing second. I felt a lump in my throat and felt difficulty in breathing. I could feel the warmth of my nostrils against my upper lip. I have heard of unexpected situation in Bangladesh but this, right in front of my eyes seemed like a page from a novel. The thought of death so close made a shiver run through my spine. I felt cold and wanted somebody to hug me tight with a blanket. I held onto my restless stomach trying to fathom the truth of it all. And all of a sudden I was shaken out of my reaction.
"Where is your father.” the head glared at the top of his tone.
Before I could part my lips my father came out from the washroom and onto the dining space. First he was too startled to move and then slowly allowed the truth to sink into him.
Immediately, the guns were diverted , the head stood right in front of my father and fixed his stare directly onto his eyes.
"Pack your bags and leave. Take your belongings and part from here." roared the head. He seemed to be in his late thirties. The others ranged between 20 to 30.
"But son. This is my place, this is where I belong. Why should I leave behind my property of 35 years?" My father retained his composure. He was always bold in the face of crisis. And faced all sorts of circumstances in life.
"Either you pack and leave or you will have to bear the consequences of it.” He was at the top of his voice and further narrowing his eyes “Are you ready to face it?".
I was too lost to think anything then. All I could feel was my lips mumbling; soon I realized I had been heartily praying to the Almighty for his Help.
Upon hearing the commotion the elderly maids came running out of their rooms. They had no idea what was going on and when they realized what was happening they stood frozen .Lips sealed, and shivering and sweating, too scared to even breathe.
Soon as my father parted lips to put up an argument, the head motioned his men. And they pointed their guns towards the door and signaled him out of doors. My father wanted to change out of his lungi. Although they tried their best to shove him out, my father still insisted and won his way to the room to change. He had two men onto his tail, while another followed me to my room. I put on my burka and collected my purse, with the fixed gaze on to my every move. A few seconds later, all four of us were pushed right out of our house. One of the young men took the key out of its key hole and locked the door behind us. We were being directed downstairs, right out of our very home. With men all around us, we were totally imprisoned within their circle. Every step I took made me seem closer to death. That I would definitely have to recite the kalmia and breath my last. Death, I did not fear, but this way, was not imagined in my wildest of dreams.
On reaching downstairs we were shocked to see that many of the workers who tried to revolt had bruises on their faces and arms. One of our far off relatives held onto his chest whining. We guessed he was punched. Another had been hit hard on his leg from what it seemed by a very hard wooden plank. I was sickened to my stomach. I felt nauseated.
There were about another fifteen of their men downstairs. Some guarded the workers, while the others guarded the main gate and stationed themselves at different parts of the area. I also noticed four name plateless macros and a few scooters.
The head told us to move ahead, while he held his gun onto my father’s chest. I felt a lump in my throat, my breathing quickened and my mind raced. I didn’t know what to expect. With a thought in mind, I prayed for the best. And with heartfelt prayer I stood my ground. I didn’t move an inch and told him I wouldn't do so without my father. He gave me a creepy look and re-directed his attention to my father.They seemed to rush it now.
“You are my fathers age and I have no personal grudge against you .There are people who want you out of place. So please leave before it’s too late". And before we could give a second thought to that, he led us out of the main gate, locked it behind and sped away with the key with all his goons. I was still too perplexed with everything that had happened. I did not know how to react. I did not know what to think about such an unexpected situation.
My father borrowed a mobile from a passerby and made the call to the police, who arrived at the scene much later. They made an entry and noted everything that has happened.
To this day their has been no outcome of that incident. Although there is a land feud going on with my fathers neighboring industrialist in that area, nothing has been uncovered to believe they could have send the man.
Today my parents live there with my younger brother and sister. My father, as always is bold and straight in the face of crisis. He fears nothing and no one save “ Allah”, he tells us always to be bold and keep heartiest faith in the Almighty. Nothing is known of the result of the gone by incident. The thought of that awful day sickens me to my stomach. The truth of that day is a part of me and still continues to haunt me most of the time. The thought of being so close to death makes me appreciate life and its every moment. Next time I am so close to death, I think I will be ready for it.
Hmm... A real escape from a dreadful experience! May Allah swt save us all from such thugs. They may think that they are out of reach in this world, but they should not forget their deserving 'service' in the Hereafter!!
46533
২
Doha, Qatar. থেকে H. M. Naimul Hoque লিখেছেন,
২৩ জানুয়ারি ২০১১; রাত ০৯:৫১
When I was this story, I think that it is a horror film, where everything goes faster within you understand anything, and I afraid with situation. Alhamdulillah, Allah has saved your family from any accident, and helps you to return your all rights as soon as possible.
46561
বাংলা (ইউনিকোডে) অথবা ইংরেজীতে আপনার মন্তব্য লিখুন:
Chittagong থেকে Tawfique লিখেছেন,
