All my hope is (not) gone
It was over a decade ago, before smartphones, at the dawn of the Facebook age. Most online communication still involved sitting with a laptop, or even desktop. And daily routine involved checking a few googlegroups and blogsites over morning caffeine. That morning, the big news was that Tasneem Khalil had been picked up by the army. Over the next 24 hours, online activists and offline negotiators, from Dhaka to DC and a dozen other places. worked hard to secure his release. CNN was involved, as was Bangladesh-related big wigs in the American foreign policy establishment. And it was impressed upon the big wigs of the 1/11 regime that releasing Tasneem was in the best interest of everybody.
Deshe jacchi, kintu nervous lagcche, Caesar re kara niye gelo…. (Going to Dhaka, but feeling nervous, who took Caesar….) — someone was saying at a social event recently. Caesar is the nickname of Mubashar Hasan, of Dhaka’s North South University.
Tasneem ke jokhon dhorsilo, ke, keno, kothaye, ei gula toh jana chilo….. (When they took Tasneem, we knew the who, why and where)…. — Tasneem got in trouble for publishing a piece linking Tarique Rahman, the DGFI and radical Islamists in North Bengal. Mubashar has been missing for a week and half, and no one seems to know who has taken him or why.
His research involved globalisation and Islamisation — could be heavy stuff, sure. But he wasn’t an investigative journalist or an avenging activist. He was focussed on synthesis, and practical, policy-oriented research. Still, he might have come across things that could upset people in Dhaka.
Do you notice I write in the past tense? Have I given up on the possibility of Mubashar returning?
When you say it’s gonna happen “now” / Well when exactly do you mean? / See I’ve already waited too long / And all my hope is gone
Maybe not all hope is gone. After all, his near and dear ones have been pleading, begging, from divine and Prime Ministerial intervention for Mubashar’s safe return. If there was no hope, would they have supplicated thus?
But then again, in a decade, we have gone from defiant activism and applying pressure to quiet submission and passive acceptance — collective despair, you be the judge.
Mubashar was — what’s the point of not using the past tense — hopeful. Unlike so many others — yours truly included — he did finish his PhD. He started blogging after the glory days of Bangla blogosphere. He worked within the system, because he knew that’s the only way to make change.
Most importantly, he overcame issues in personal life to give his daughter a better tomorrow. We had bonded over not just the stupidity of Shahbagh, but also about co-parenting. There is a little girl out there hoping his Baba will return with some My Little Pony gift.
I too submit, submit to the Almighty — please don’t let that girl grow up without hope.
Mukti 
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