Humayun Ahmed: In fond reminiscence

Every year as the calendar turns to November 13, bittersweet memories flood my mind. It's the birthday of the late, great Humayun Ahmed, and every year on this day, I (and a few other journalists) would go to Dokhin Hawa, his Dhanmondi residence, to convey birthday greetings.

Humayun sir, a jolly, fun-loving man, would spend time with us and discuss about a wide array of topics.

On one such occasion, I asked him about his birthday plans? Humayun Ahmed laughed and said “Birthday means a year has gone by from life. So there is no reason to be excited. Life is traveling towards its end.” On our way back, he gave us some books.

On one of his birthdays, I wanted to give him a special gift, so I found a photo my photographer took at Nuhash Polli, capturing a candid moment of the wordsmith taking a photo of his son Nishad. So I framed that photo and gave it to him on his birthday, and he was very happy. When I went to see him at Nuhash Polli the last time he returned from the US from his cancer treatment, I found that photo hanging on a wall in his living room, next to some other personal favourite photos.

On his last birthday, publisher Mazharul of Annya Publication House threw a party on the occasion. We all went to his house for lunch. After the meal, he said “My birthday is not in my control anymore; it belongs to my publishers.”  

That birthday of his remains an unforgettable one for me. At that time, he was busy shooting for the film “Ghetuputhro Komola”. I asked him what he had got as a gift from his wife. He laughed and said “Shaon sang a song for me last night. That is my big gift this year.”

On his birthday, a book fair of only his books was held in Sahbagh's Public Library. His book “Kath-pencil” was published that year. I stood in line to buy the book and then asked for his autograph. I was also buying his novel “Moddhanno”. “Have you read the first part?” he asked. I told him I did. He gave me autograph on the book and said I shouldn't pay for it. That was the last gift from him, and it is one of my most precious possessions.

His birthday is here again, but he is no more. Stay well wherever you are, my favourite wordsmith.