Re: Passing away of an icon: Enayetullah Khan


(NEW AGE, Nov. 14, 2005)

AIDE MEMOIRE | Hasnat Abdul Hye

Dhaka/2005

When he finally decided to write a column in New Age, Mintu Bhai wanted
to know the caption of the column. He mentioned ‘Aide-Memoire’ and
waited for the response or a quizzical expression from across the
table. Mintu Bhai rose from the chair and going out of his chamber
almost shouted, ‘Aide-Memoire’, Hasnat’s weekly column, from next
week.’ He did not ask any question or try to influence in anyway

He started writing this column at the request of Enayetullah Khan,
‘Mintu bhai’ for all those junior to him in age, but could never think
that a piece would have to be written for him in memoriam. This article
is an unexpected one and differs from all others that appeared in the
column over the past two years.
It was a shaky start, the beginning of this column, with manifest
hesitation about getting under the pressure of writing yet another
weekly column standing in the way. Then there was the question of
writing a column that he wanted to be different from what he had been
writing in another English daily. There was no challenge, not to speak
of fun, in repeating the same format and content, he felt. But Mintu
Bhai was a past master in gentle persuasion and kept reminding him. His
persistence in coaxing and cajoling was flattering. Mintu Bhai gave him
the impression as if he was a very sought-after writer who had to be
brought on board. He was not the only one who was being invited to
write for the new paper. Even before New Age saw the light of the day,
Mintu Bhai was sending out feelers and contacting writers to contribute
to the paper. There was nothing unusual or novel about this. Every
editor of a new paper about to be published goes through this phase
almost as a routine. But it was the importance and respect,
irrespective of age, that he gave to writers which was distinctive. To
him a writer was a special being and deserved reverential treatment.
But it did not blind him to weak spots in any writing. He had a
revulsion against shabby writing or platitudinous ones. If it seemed
that he was criticizing a writer’s lapse in style or grammar in any
piece it was because he had set a high standard and his expectation
from a writer was commensurate to that. More than the substance, it was
the style, the quality and the correct usage and rhetorics that drew
his attention. Mintu Bhai himself developed an inimitable style of
writing and expected others to have styles of their own by which they
could be identified at first sight. It was not only sloppiness in
composing sentences but also ordinariness in style that he abhorred.
Nothing excited him more than to come across a good piece of writing
and he encouraged, sometimes gently, sometimes impatiently, neophytes
to improve their style.

Mintu Bhai’s signature style of writing became a legend in his
lifetime. His English had always been a hard nut to crack by ordinary
and unwary readers. There was endless criticism and whining from his
readers, old and new. But he was unabashed and unperturbed by these
‘slings and arrows,’ so to speak. No concession was made by him and no
attempt was seen from his side to modify what appeared to many as
tangled sentences, sprinkled with unfamiliar words. He stuck to his
unique style, even when ridiculed or made fun of. Writing to him was a
passion and not merely a profession. Like all passionate men, he gave
free rein to his imagination. At a time when writing in English in
Bangladesh had become like an endangered species, he sought to enrich
it through innovative use of syntax, with liberal use of words that
were not in ordinary usage. In going off the beaten track of writing
English, he was not experimenting but introducing a new concept of
writing English, something that could be termed ‘post-colonial’ even
without trying to hybridize it with colloquial terms from vernacular
languages and dialects. It was his way of gaining freedom from the
conventions of the ‘Empire’ about use of ‘King’s (Queen’s) English’,
just as Rushdie and others did through what has come to be known as
‘mongrel English.’ It was not always pleasant to read Mintu Bhai’s
article because of his trade-mark English. But the intellect of the
reader never failed to be stimulated and challenged. Just as he
frequently consulted the dictionary and thesaurus, he expected the same
effort from the readers. He did not want to see his readers as ordinary
and average and believed it to be his obligation to make them
interested about the various nuances of words and arcane ways of
language. The readers were his sparring partners and not mere passive
recipients. He wanted them to soar above the ordinary, just as he had
embarked upon an adventure with words. He was Hamlet with a different
role. He wrote: words, words, words.

He was blatantly effusive about the versatility of the English
language and waxed enthusiastic of the numerous synonyms of a word that
helped a writer to be continually fresh in articulation. Unless a
writer was conscious of this richness of vocabulary of English language
and made appropriate use of the same, a grave offense was committed, he
thought. He did not consider writing as a hobby for recreation, though
it could be an exhilarating experience. For him writing was a serious
commitment to ‘create’ and wanted others to have the same approach to
it. Even while being objectively analytical and critical, a writer, in
his view, had to be ‘creative.’ In his own way, Mintu Bhai gave birth
to a new genre of ‘creative journalism.’ There might not be many who
would follow in his footsteps but the idea of being ‘creative’ in
analytical writing will be his lasting legacy, to inspire a new
generation of English language writers to find a distinctive style of
their own and avoid appearing like a copycat of others.

Mintu Bhai never prevaricated while writing on an issue and there
was no ambiguity about his views. His likes and dislikes were strong
and he did not mince words in giving vent to these. He could be
searingly acerbic and scathing in his criticism, but because of the
style the expression was somewhat subdued. If he appeared sarcastic and
censorious, wit intervened to blunt the sharp edges. Often his mockish
tone was tempered by a subtle dash of wry humour. Because of the
intelligence that was brought to bear on the commentary or criticism,
he never appeared mean and bloody-minded. There was a nobility, almost
a grandeur, in the way he dealt with the targets of criticism or
condemnation.

He was proud of being a journalist and cherished its ethics. It did
not take long for him to realise that journalism and politics were
intertwined. As a journalist Mintu Bhai had to take positions on
various political issues, just as others did. It disappointed his
admirers when he failed to be consistent in his political views. His
stand against one-party rule under BAKSAL was appreciated by all. But
when he wrote that ‘military had a role in politics’ and it was
followed by the army coup in 1982, many raised their eyebrows. As a
progressive thinker he had always upheld the views of democracy,
freedom of speech, equal rights of men and women and all other human
rights. His silence about the inclusion of the Jamaat, a party that
opposed the creation of Bangladesh, in the 4 party alliance dismayed
those who fought for the independence of Bangladesh. He maintained this
reticence even when religious fanaticism and militancy bared their
fangs and spread their tentacles. He joined in the denial of the
authorities about the presence of religious militants in the country.
Mintu Bhai realised his mistake and redeemed himself by writing a three
part serial captioned ‘Jamaat - the enemy within.’ He could not have
dispelled the misgivings of his readers in a stronger and more
forthright way. At the end, he remained true to his conscience, almost
in the manner of a believer in a ritual confession. Though belated, he
succeeded in putting the record straight.
Remembrance of Mintu Bhai will not be confined to his writing or his
contribution to journalism alone. The qualities of his head and heart
shone through his social life, too. Those who came across him, even if
momentarily, were deeply touched by those. To his numerous regular
friends, colleagues and admirers, he was an endearing company with a
smiling face and warm words enlivening the atmosphere. In any
gathering, his was a towering presence, what with his tall stature and
his flamboyant style. He was a very hard working man but also had a
busy social life. He excelled both as a guest and as a host. The
parties thrown by him at his house were always well-attended by people
from cross section of Dhaka society, including the diplomatic circle.
He had wide contacts, both at home and abroad, and was seen as an
important member of the Bangladesh intelligentsia. It did not undermine
his popularity and importance that he was controversial.
When he finally decided to write a column in New Age, Mintu Bhai
wanted to know the caption of the column. He mentioned ‘Aide-Memoire’
and waited for the response or a quizzical expression from across the
table. Mintu Bhai rose from the chair and going out of his chamber
almost shouted, ‘Aide-Memoire’, Hasnat’s weekly column, from next
week.’ He did not ask any question or try to influence in anyway. Since
that day for over two years, this column has appeared regularly on
Monday, covering the memories of many people, places and events. Some
of these brought sombre nostalgia, some brought joy. This one has both
nostalgia and sadness, the former for the past that was and the latter
for the loss that will be felt from now onward. It has been painful to
remember and discuss Mintu Bhai in this column, above. May his soul
rest in peace. (New Age, Nov. 14, 2005)


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IN MEMORIAM
‘Have you seen our New Age?’ – he asked
Ending a write-up on Mintu Bhai is really difficult. Those who have had
the opportunity of coming just a little close to Mintu Bhai and
understand him just a little bit will find it real hard to stop writing
about him. Those who knew him well will feel like writing a volume on
him. He was a man of enormous talent. He was a man of what they call
here in the West the power vocabulary. He set the bar of Bangladeshi
journalism at a higher level, writes
Syed Badiuzzaman

It has become my daily habit for quite sometime to browse the online
edition of Bangladeshi newspapers around 2 pm Eastern Standard Time
sitting at my workplace here in Toronto – to keep myself up to date
with events back home. Today was Thursday, November 10, 2005 and today
was no exception. As I clicked on the website of New Age and
unexpectedly noticed the black-bordered image of Enayetullah Khan,
everything came to an abrupt halt.

My routine workday was immediately replaced with a day of mourning
and deep shock at the death of our beloved Mintu Bhai, one of the best
and brightest sons of our soil. Suddenly, a sense of extreme sadness
and terrible loss swept over me. Putting everything aside, I scanned
newspaper after newspaper for the rest of my workday reading various
condolence messages from individuals and organizations as well as
write-ups by journalists in memory of our Mintu Bhai.

We had been in constant touch with each other mostly through phone
calls and e-mails since Mintu Bhai came to Toronto early this year for
treatment. Exactly 26 hours before he died, I called his daughter’s
home as usually to talk to Mintu Bhai. But unfortunately he was not
home. His son-in-law Irshad-uz-Zaman told me that he had been admitted
to the Intensive Care Unit of Princess Margaret Hospital – one of the
finest institutes for cancer research in the world – for post-operative
infection.

When we last spoke on the phone about three weeks ago, Mintu Bhai
sounded just normal, upbeat as well as energetic – which was very
typical of him all the time – even though he was undergoing a
three-slot cycle of chemotherapy. Each time I called Mintu Bhai, I
requested him to keep himself busy with routine activities as much as
possible, stay positive and mentally strong and pray to God for his
early and complete recovery. ‘Cancer is no more an incurable disease –
many people are surviving cancer now,’ I told Mintu Bhai over and over.

In my telephonic conversations and email messages to Mintu Bhai, I
also repeatedly said, ‘You have always been in our thoughts and
prayers. Insha’allah, you will recover soon and fully.’ Each time I
told him a word of encouragement or wished him recovery, he thanked me
– which was always an unforgettable feature of his character.

Mintu Bhai did keep himself busy through the last moments doing what
he had done for the last 40 years – writing and editing – the love of
his life. One thing surfaced very clearly from our several recent
conversations —- Mintu Bhai was very optimistic that he would beat
cancer soon and resume his normal activities. ‘On my return, I intend
to convert Holiday into a magazine form in order to tidy up the
editorial content and introduce more contributed pieces from outside
the paper’s staff, both within and without the country – a kind of mini
Economist type,’ he wrote in his September 15 e-mail message to me.

I met Mintu Bhai soon after he underwent surgery at Toronto General
Hospital with a get-well-soon card and a copy of the last issue of a
monthly newsmagazine called South Asia Times I launched several years
ago from Boston, Massachusetts. On my way to the downtown hospital from
my work, I stopped by a bookstore to buy more reading material for
Mintu Bhai and picked up two copies of a US national bestseller, three
times Pulitzer Prize-winning author Thomas L. Friedman’s Longitudes and
Attitudes – one for Mintu Bhai and the other for myself. The book was a
collection of pre-9/11 and post-9/11 columns by New York Times
columnist Tom Friedman, who also authored From Beirut to Jerusalem and
The Lexus and the Olive Tree. In my view, what could be a better read
than the columns by a great American columnist for another great
columnist (Mintu Bhai) of the Indian sub-continent? Everyone makes a
wish while presenting something to somebody. I was no exception. I
wished Mintu Bhai ‘a long life, good health and lots of energy so that
you can keep writing for many more years.’

When I stepped into Mintu Bhai’s hospital room around 6-30 pm, he
was sleeping. I did not wake him up. I silently sat on a chair by his
bed. About 10/15 minutes later, Mintu Bhai himself woke up, looked at
me, smiled and then asked: ‘How are you?’ I said I was fine and then
asked him: ‘Mintu Bhai, how are you feeling?’ He said: ‘I am feeling a
little better now’ and asked me, ‘How long have you been here?’ ‘About
10/15 minutes,’ I said. Then I handed him a Manila envelope with the
get-well-soon card and the reading material that I had brought for him.
He immediately opened the envelope, read the card first and then my
hand-written small note on a blank page of Tom Friedman’s Longitudes
and Attitudes wishing him a long life, good health and lots of energy
so that he could keep writing for many more years. He smiled again –
apparently in appreciation.

In the meantime, Mintu Bhai’s daughter Nasreen Zaman Shuchi entered
the room and sat on another chair by her father’s hospital bed. We
talked about many things ranging from the overall situation in
Bangladesh to the medical facilities in Canada. Our discussions also
included Bangladesh’s newspaper industry as well as the quality of
journalism in Bangladesh. At one point, Mintu Bhai asked me: ‘ Have you
seen our New Age?’ I said: ‘Yes, I have – the online version only. I
haven’t seen the hard copy yet.’ Then he asked me: ‘How does it look?’
‘It looks great. It has the potential of becoming the number one
English-language newspaper of Bangladesh,’ I hastily answered. ‘The
Daily Star is doing quite good,’ Mintu Bhai commented, reflecting his
distinguished personality and broadmindedness. After staying with Mintu
Bhai for about an hour or so, I sought his permission to leave. He
smiled again. I shook his hand telling him: ‘You are in the hands of
some of the finest physicians in the world. You will be fine. I will
come to see you again.’

Meanwhile, I went to Bangladesh from Canada on a short family trip.
Immediately on my return to Toronto, I sent an e-mail to Mintu Bhai
enquiring about his well-being. He wrote back, ‘Dear Zaman, thanks for
your e-mail and relatively happier experience back in Bangladesh. I am
now undergoing a long haul of chemotherapy of which I completed the
first of a three-slot cycle yesterday. Today, I am seeing the surgeon,
and next week the oncologist before starting the second cycle. I am
keeping myself involved and active with regular editing of New Age
reports every day and a simultaneous Eddesk and EdSpeak column for
Holiday and New Age – in that order.’ In that email, I told Mintu Bhai
that I had seen New Age in hard copy for the first time on our flight
from London to Dhaka and expressed my desire to write a regular column
for the newspaper. Mintu Bhai’s response was immediate: ‘Thanks for
your offer. You are welcome to write a weekly column for New Age as
well as Holiday. You will be introduced as a Bangladeshi journalist now
based in North America. That will allow you a broader canvas to cover
and write on.’

I got an opportunity to come a little close to Mintu Bhai many years
ago in the early 1980s when I was a senior staff reporter on the New
Nation. At the time, as a bachelor and young journalist my day often
used to begin with an early morning breakfast at the Jatiya Press Club.
And Mintu Bhai had a habit of coming to the club around that time
almost on a daily basis – just fresh from the shower — to have his
first tea of the day and glance over the headlines of almost all
morning newspapers. While glancing through the newspapers, Mintu Bhai
also talked about various current issues facing our nation. And when
Mintu Bhai talked, we all just listened and learned. I lost contact
with Mintu Bhai after I left Dhaka in 1988 for the United States with a
journalism fellowship. One day around the mid-1990s, while I was
browsing various Bangladeshi newspapers on the Internet, I discovered
the online version of Holiday for the first time and contacted Mintu
Bhai via e-mail. He recognized me and responded immediately. I went to
Bangladesh in 2002 for the first time in 14 years and met Mintu Bhai at
his Holiday office. Mintu Bhai hadn’t changed at all in such a long
time. He was the same old Mintu Bhai with that same great personality –
same great smile.

Ending a write-up on Mintu Bhai is really difficult. Those who have
had the opportunity of coming just a little close to Mintu Bhai and
understand him just a little bit will find it real hard to stop writing
about him. Those who knew him well will feel like writing a volume on
him. He was a man of enormous talent. He was a man of what they call
here in the West the power vocabulary. He set the bar of Bangladeshi
journalism at a higher level. He will be best remembered for his
journalistic integrity, fearlessness and a life-long passion for the
profession. Now that he is gone, who will write about the Aesop’s
fables and Darwinian primates? In his death, Bangladesh has lost one of
her most brilliant sons, and journalists their greatest guide – one who
lived in elegance and died with dignity.

The writer is a Bangladeshi journalist based in North America

(NEW AGE, Nov. 14, 2005)

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