Aftab Ahmed died on the 3rd of July, that is yesterday. I had suddenly come to learn a few weeks back that he was unwell and hospitalized. But I couldn’t find any common friend to confirm the news.  I sent a message to his wife on messenger-someone I didn’t know- that went unanswered naturally.

Yesterday a stray post on Facebook mentioned his death. It was past 12 and no way to call him and know more. One of the nicest persons who walked this earth is gone and I have none to share my grief with.  Aftab Ahmed was a first generation staff of UNB.

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Those were the happy days of journalism and the mixed crowd at UNB and Dhaka Courier were young, able and loved to laugh. That spirit can’t be recaptured now as it belonged to another history and age. Not only was Dhaka Courier the top selling weekly in town but UNB was strong and the most powerful news provider in Bangladesh. Those were heady days.

The line between the two –UNB and DC- was not always clear. This was because so many were friends, the young ones. Irteza, Huda, Aftab, Ayesha were close and on Thursday evenings when the cover page of DC was being done, they would all come to the top floor office of DC and chat and laugh and remind the world that they were young and spirited. Both Aftab and Huda were great at doing cover captions and the laughter that followed was always louder than the words that described the story.

Aftab was the nicest of the lot, an absolute gem of a human being.  One of the most intellectually articulate people around, he bought a sense of humour and yet understanding of news value that was remarkable. I respected them all for their specialties if you will. Aftab was the quiet one, the deep one, the one who saw it all and said little. I respected him for that.

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Over time, as I drifted away elsewhere, contacts declined. I was a bit surprised that Aftab had joined the civil service but happy as he rose through the ranks. After a long time, his retirement actually, we met at a news media event last year. And of course we chatted about the old days. The same articulate, sharp witted, polite person he always was. I am bringing out a journal in English and asked him to contribute. He did. It will appear after he is gone. I wish he could be around to see it.  

That old DC/UNB crowd is gone and dispersed. Irteza is in Malaysia and Huda is in the States and I am not in touch with either. Ayesha is with Prothom Alo (English) and our paths occasionally cross. But the crowd is gone. Now Aftab has left the building.

Farewell Aftab, keep laughing and talking and keep a seat for us too at the table. Best wishes and all my affections.