No Nonsense
My role model

Nurul Islam
IF you have asked me last week who, if any, is my role model, I would have emphatically said none. To me having a role model meant: "I'm second to someone." But it's now much too late to tell the person that in life and now in his deathand for as long as I livehe was and he will always remain my role model. Nurul Islam was one of the few politicians along with Motia Chowdhury, Rashed Khan Menon, and Hyder Akbar Khan whom I know joined politics for altruistic service to the browbeaten in our society. Much to the utter shock and grave trepidation of the people, Bangladesh has lost a rare breed of the stature of Nurul Islam, who died in a very dreadful way. Reminiscing the distant past and then translating in words in how many intrinsic ways Nurul Islam Bhai (NIB) had shaped my thinking during my DU years and thereafter is a near impossible task. But I must acknowledge a few. Were it not for NIB, I'm not sure if I would have:- Studied physics instead of engineering or economics. In fact, in one of our get-togethers in February, he casually reminded me once that I couldn't have studied the other two subjects (nuclear engineering and economics) had I not started with physics.
- Been a member of the then East Pakistan Students' Union (EPSU).
- Received compensation from DU Vice-Chancellor Osman Gani for my books and personal belongings stolen by then Governor Monayem Khan's NSF hooligans who ransacked my room on a day of campus-wide unrest in 1964 against Ayub-Monayem's repressive governance.
- Been rescued from an inevitable assault by NSF's Khoka and his followers when I was passing by DU science cafeteria building, where NSF and EPSU were skirmishing with stones and hockey sticks. NSF and university-wide students knew me as the cousin of Iqbal Hall's VP Nurul Islam.
- Ever become a newspaper columnist and cognitively wired to write commentaries on social and political issues of Bangladesh. Nearly 75% of my last four years op-ed articles in The Daily Star are political commentaries. While writing these pieces, I always consulted NIB, if I needed him to check facts and figures and then asked for his views on my perspectives. He would always check my facts without ever -- even oncetrying to influence my views and focus. He was always circumspect in his comments and advised me to be objective and fair and avoid any iota of self-promotion in my writings in order to get recognition as a credible columnist. Before he succumbed to unconsciousness, I watched him saying on TV about the threats he had been receiving over telephone soon after he received his nomination for the Noakhali-1 constituency. "There is the sense of mystery," wrote the December 5 DS editorial, "surrounding the incident and, unless a purposeful investigation is undertaken over the matter, we might face the sad possibility of the entire sordid episode fizzling out into amnesia." Discovery of the fons et origo of the fireif it was indeed an act of arsonand subsequent hanging of the criminals wouldn't compensate for his loss. However, all of usrelatives and admirers alikeare asking for an effective and immediate investigation if the 3:00 am inferno in his apartment was indeed arson and who the arsonists are. It will certainly bring some relief to us all and the case will be closed. Watching the frightful news on TV with Nazneen Dewan was heartbreaking. We couldn't even look at each other in our disbelief and shock, and broke into tears. Last time when Nazneen visited Bangladesh, NIB's only son Tomohar (who died instantly in the fire) hosted his aunt in many of the nicest restaurants in Dhaka as often as she was available. We didn't try to contact NIB's wife poet Rubi Islam and his only daughter Moutusi Islam who were in the US when this horrible tragedy had occurred. How could we tell them what happened? Rubi Apa had always treated us as extended family members ever since she was married to NIB. We even shared the same apartment with them in Dhanmondi for a while soon after our marriage. We're not sure how we would ever face Rubi Apa, how we would start our conversations when we meet, and what we would talk about.
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