Kids preferring one parent over the other is not an uncommon phenomenon. And, it has mostly been seen that daughters naturally gravitate towards their father than mother. So, imagine what my mother must have felt when she gave birth to four daughters and how the household relationship dynamics unfolded in her formative years of marriage, specially since her husband happened to be an incredible dad to their daughters. And, this man returned back to Allah (SWT) in September, 2023, about two years after my mother’s death.

Ever-since my father’s demise, I have repeatedly thought writing about him. But every time I would try starting, I would get puzzled about where to begin. Because it’s difficult to put into words, the feelings one can have for a magnanimous person like my father, Ebadur Rahman Chowdhury. A politician, lawyer, writer and also a farmer, he wore many hats in his almost eighty years of life. Although his illustrious career in politics is mostly talked about among his relatives and well-wishers. The year I was born, he became member of the parliament (MP) for the very first time in Bangladesh. So, in my early childhood days, he would be often absent in household affairs. But, no matter what, when he would arrive at the front door of the house in Moulvibazar, his affectionate nature would either fill the house with warmth or he would get bombarded with internal conflicts by the women-folk of the household. I feel, his craftsmanship as a lawyer would also come handy in those situations as he would meticulously solve the issues raised by the women in his life and sort their emotional upheavals with pleasant banters. 

His work as a parliamentarian required him to travel to Dhaka on a regular basis and this was the era prior to online retail and e-commerce in early 90s. Moulvibazar being almost 200 KM away from capital Dhaka meant the best quality goods were mostly not available for us. But, his liking for finer things in life meant he would get fashionable clothes, delicious sweets and most importantly books and magazines of different genres for his family members and relatives with whatever income he used to manage through his career in law and politics. Also, within this honest income, I don’t know how but he managed to take us to Barlekha or Sylhet city almost on a frequent basis in rented cars as well as for month long trips to our aunt and uncle’s houses in Dhaka during the year-end school vacation. 

In his work for his constituency, alongside infrastructural development, he promoted and most importantly facilitated establishment of many educational institutions. He always encouraged love for reading among his near and dear ones. Going to the bookfair in Bangla Academy with him would probably remain as one of my best childhood memories with him. This was just one of those ways how he not only instilled the love for reading in his daughters but he also self-energized himself for his work as a devout educationalist in his community.

I remember one day I figured a room in our house was full of hundreds of sports equipments. Oh my, football, badminton rackets, cricket bat and what exactly was not there! That kid version of myself was undoubtedly fascinated by the sight and was eager to grab at least one of the equipments. So, I asked very excitedly for my fair share from my father who had brought in those items in the house, without knowing the fact that I would be denied seconds later! I think, he looked at me and said very rationally ‘These have been handed over as items for my constituency’s school children and are not for private use’. I may not recall my emotional state very correctly, but I think, my heart ached for sure and I may have felt that he did not love me the way he loves the children from Barlekha. No wonder, even my mejho bon, sometimes used to get upset during her childhood due to indefinite absence of my father in the household affairs for his public duties and used to ask my mother very angrily, whether Barlekha is my father’s offspring or not!

Growing up, I never really paid attention to this memory and the value of this memory seemed very inconsequential in nature. But years later, I can understand the value of the lesson hidden in this experience and I can also realize what sort of a person we have received as our father from the Almighty. In a country known for notorious public servants, he not only taught his children to never get undue privileges for his position, but also actively discouraged cronyism by not favoring his relatives in so many occasions. Also, I feel, this was possible because he had a very simple person as my mother as his life-partner who was rarely interested in making materialistic demands to my father.

In the year 1999, we moved to Dhaka for attaining better-quality education, except my father, who travelled back and forth from Moulvibazar as he was concentrating full-time as a lawyer in the Zilla court due to not getting elected as a MP in 1996 national elections. It was around this time, I remember another incident which happened few times and strongly exhibited his caring nature even while being extremely busy. As a kid and a teenager, I used to be a picky eater and only liked a handful of dishes. Gura Chingri curry used to be one of them. Abba would thoughtfully instruct the house-help in Moulvibazar to cook and pack this curry before he departed for Dhaka, so that I would get to eat this item. Such was the love of my father!

He was a man of calm demeanor, but his dynamism was well-recognized by the people around him. Writing poems, publishing a weekly newspaper, running a poultry business as well as a fishery, gardening- where hasn’t he set his foot in his lifetime! A story that I have often heard from my sisters while growing up is that they ate stuffed capsicum during winter season that my father grew in the front-yard of our house in Moulvibazar when this vegetable was simply a novelty throughout the country. Prior to his stint in the parliament, he published a local weekly newspaper called ‘Saptahik Jonodut’. Later on, his business ventures in poultry and fishery may not have yielded significant financial benefits, but those initiatives definitely ensured that people around him were well-fed when it comes to protein-intake! I often get amazed at the fact that how he showed me the path that pursuing passion doesn’t require one to compromise his integrity.  

My father’s health started deteriorating in last few years, particularly for years of suffering diabetes, he developed peripheral neouropathy which ultimately led to making him bed-ridden in the last two-three years of his life. We were fortunate that a carer was employed by my sisters for his care-giving duties. But, I also feel that I did not spend much time with him when he needed me the most. Because, it was just so painful at times to see how a self-reliant person is gradually losing his grips on life. Because, you see it coming!

And, so it happened on 6th September 2023 or on the 20th day of Safar-1445 as per the Hijri Calender- My wonderful father passed away around afternoon at the Ibn-Sina hospital in Dhaka. It happened on the day of Janmashtami- a national holiday in Bangladesh, so I was off from work and was able to see him one last time in this earthly life.  

--

Author: Jannat Adib Chowdhury,

Youngest Daughter