I have lost two close colleagues and friends in just one week. TIK of BDNews24 died in London while on a visit while Amir Khasru, long time veteran reporter of VOA died in Dhaka after battling health complications for some time.
It’s not the deaths and demise that shocked me but that both were so much younger than I was. Not that it matters but somehow it seems so unfair. Death has stolen our close ones and we stand helpless. Perhaps it's just not the person who has died and left the building but a large chunk of our own past has disappeared through the door with them never to return.
“The Hungry reporter”
I came across Khasru in 1984 when Dhaka Courier was first launched. It was a weekly magazine so reporting was entirely contributor based. We had some senior journos occasionally writing commentaries and Opinions but reporting has usually needed young selves and Khasru was only 23/24 years old, a very young man but already with a growing reputation that foretold his future.
Khosru would have time in the afternoon to come to the Courier office, then at Purana Paltan next to the Dainik Bangla building. And he would be hungry in the literal sense. So, my first job on meeting him once or twice a week would be to order a burger for him from the bakery below.
He had a very interesting way of eating a Burger of the Dhaka variety. He would put it on the plate and then press down hard on the burger with both hands to flatten it as much as possible. And then he would chomp.
It became a regular event when he came and I used to call him the “hungry reporter”. He would laugh, that usually jerky laughter that comes to my mind so much as I sit stunned by such an early death. I know he was 65 years old but I am almost 75 years almost and believe me, that makes the pain deeper. As if I have no right to be here when younger souls have left the mortal space.
Laughter and the interview
He and I did several stories together with me, the Acting Editor moonlighting as a reporter. We visited several sites and did stories together but most were his own. I remember one time when we went to interview Maj. Farooq(retd) -who was later hanged for his role in the assassination of Sk. Mujib – at his DOHS residence. He seemed to be into a bit of blustering but we ignored all that.
As we talked, he said something pretty wild and Khasru loudly laughed in his typical style which really threw the Major off. He began to stammer and began to answer our questions more directly.
As we were returning, I told Khasru that his laughter was a great journalistic weapon because it completely shook up anyone who heard it explode suddenly. It could be used to unsettle any stubborn person during any interview. The laughter that exploded from him probably unsettled many of the passersby as we walked to hail a rickshaw.
Khasru was a hardcore reporter and desk management let alone lead a media outlet wasn’t his cup of tea or hamburger. He liked the freedom to dig for news, chase a story and file it in the evening, the classical reporter’s profile. His glory days were spent as the VOA correspondent and team member where reporting and breaking news took him to the top echelon of Bangladeshi journalism.
The political Khasru
Not many may know that he was once a committed activist of hard-Left politics but like almost all such outfits they were crumpled by the hard fist of various regimes. He had escaped a severe crackdown in his area and Dhaka was a safe haven also apart from earning a living. Then like so many other political activists, he drifted into media work and that became his professional home till the end.
However, Khasru never lost the connection with the ideas and emotions that had led him to this commitment. He was very upfront about his dislike of AL and the feeling was reciprocated by the AL lobbies too. He remained loyal to political ideology in general and even made a somewhat emotional defense of it in our last long conversation a year or two back. He did think that Left politics one day would triumph.
In some ways, it gave him the mortal anchor many need but can’t find in real life. Khasru had.
As our life winded down with age we met less and less. Khasru tried to cope with the challenges of life and livelihood and so did I and as we didn’t share the regular media professional life, we rarely met. Telephones and social media became our meeting place.
I had no idea he was unwell but we had no common friend after being apart all these years. My last two messages to his FB inbox were not answered and perhaps I should have suspected something was amiss but him being a decade younger made me unsuspecting. And then came on the Facebook the news that he was hospitalized and then the death notice.
Farwell Khasru, I hope you find peace and are at least liberated from the pain of knowing your idealism driven world is still so far away. But you have left your laughter behind for us and that is enough.
Goodbye.