Arun Devnath
MIRZAPUR, Tangail, October 22 (bdnews24.com) - Everyone has a precious memory to carry into the future like a shadow of himself, one feels when arriving at the gate of Bharateswari Homes.
Worlds away from 'the madding crowd', Nibaran Chandra Mandol steps out of the shadows of the guardroom to greet us with hands folded in a customary Hindu gesture.
Nibaran is an abiding testimony to the passage of time and memory at the school for girls, built in 1944 in Mirzapur, 50 kilometres northwest of Dhaka.
"He is 80 years old. He is still here. He was here when I was a student of the school," whispers Mahmooda Saeed Khuku, a former student of the Homes.
Greeted by warm welcomes from other staff members, we enter the grassy, open space surrounded by classrooms and offices. The drizzle falls gently, as grey skies arch over the grey compound.
We walk the narrow concrete path that rings the green playground, where morning parade takes place when the institution is open to 1,000 students, 67 of them taking college classes.
The school, known for its high standard of discipline, is staffed by 68 teachers, only eight of them male.
But discipline is not all that matters here. "The school teaches mutual tolerance and self-sacrifice. Religion, caste and colour and social status don't matter in our everyday activities. All are equal," says Ulfatun Nessa, vice-principal of the Homes.
Ahead of us, some girls stroll unhurriedly towards the dining hall. Further along, Shaorin Smriti, 15, sounds a bell with a small metal hammer.
"This is the bell for students to come in for lunch. It's lunchtime," a smiling Shaorin says before she turns to catch up with her classmates.
We walk into the spacious dining hall, which seats up to two hundred students at a time.
The students are the workforce. All are barefoot in a sign of respect when they serve lunch and dinner. Thirty students group together at a time—and skip classes, if need be—to work for the rest of the school.
Skipping classes is not regarded as truancy here. This is the long-standing custom. The students catch up fast not to fall short in classes, or they prepare for class tests well ahead of their routine work.
"We did the same when we were students. It's all the same," says Lilian Zinnat, an SSC student of the 1969 batch.
The Homes has the highest emphasis on discipline which teachers, students and parents all take pride in. The girls start their day at five in the morning and wrap up at half past ten at night.
Each day begins and ends in line with routine, with little deviation.
"Discipline matters more than anything else. But it's not all about discipline," says vice-principal Ulfatun Nessa.
"I am happy to be here. I am happy to be with the girls I love," says Ulfatun Nessa, who was herself a student at Homes before gaining a Master's in economics at Dhaka University.
After higher studies, Ulfatun Nessa—unmarried—moved back to the Homes, which she likes to call a place for "happiness and administration".
The happiest of all on the teaching staff is Hena Sultana who has been schooling students at the Homes for the last 20 years.
"For me, this place is a dream. This school is free from all prejudice," she says, smiling as she reminisces.
In her biography of philanthropist and founder of the school Ranada Prasad Shaha, she describes a man who "plucked a rose from the grey past to offer it to the evergreen present in his life-long struggle".
"A man walked from the light of the sun casting his shadow behind. He walked with his shadow into eternity, timelessness. The shadow was not his real self, but an indispensable companion. The man, the sentinel of time, was Ranada Prasad Shaha."
Does Sultana still write?
"Poems. Some personal poems."
Silence falls. The evening closes in. The interview comes to an end for the day.
We hear footsteps approach, down the hall, outside the room. Some students—in new clothes and ornamented—are ready to dance at the school temple to celebrate Durga Puja.
We wander into the dark, past cars parked on a narrow strip, and cross the Louhajang River to have a last glimpse of the goddess on the day of
shaptami
rites.
Once on the other side of the river, my colleague, photographer Qamruzzaman, and I melt into the crowd of celebrants as they begin their devotional chants, followed by dance ensembles...
Eight o'clock Thursday night, and we are heading back to the capital, with the aura of Bharateswari Homes and its rich past still in our minds.
As the car speeds through the night however, Mahmooda, born in Mirzapur, briefly recalls a darker time.
Bharateswari Homes has a sad past, she says. RP Shaha and his son Bhavani Prasad Shaha were captured and killed by the Pakistani army on May 7, 1971.
"The memories of the grand wedding ceremony for Bhavani are still alive in my mind," Mahmooda says, recalling how Bhavani had been seated on a horse by the pond in the complex, as hundreds of guests lined up to have a glimpse of the bridegroom in elegant dress.
RP Shaha's legacy is now the Kumudini Welfare Trust. His daughter Joya Pati took the reins of the Trust after the death of her father.
RP Shaha's grandson, 39-year-old Rajiv Prasad Shaha, is now in turn managing director of the Trust. "I am proud to be the grandson of RP Shaha. I am proud to be in charge of his legacy," he says.
"I have never thought of leaving the Trust for something else."
Arun Devnath is news editor for bdnews24.com. The article is based on the writer's personal experience.
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