Postmortem Report of Dead Body of Dr. Humayun Azad

Afroza Begum

[T]he dead body of Dr. Humayun Azad, a man from Bangladesh known as a noted writer, who stirred a small poor country in the East named Bangladesh, is lying in one of the lockers at the cold morgue in Munich, Germany, waiting for autopsy. The police who brought them in, found him dead at his apartment, who broke open the doors from outside in the morning of 12th august, 2004, apparently died in his sleep at the night before, as reported. After preliminary examination of the dead body, the doctors found no abnormal cause and suspects-- a case of heart failure. The paper that came with the dead body with request for autopsy, reported all these.

[A] detail autopsy has to be done and should be done very carefully and meticulously, the administration requests, because they heard back in the country, there is lot of confusion on the sudden death of this noted writer who aroused severe controversy in the country back his home when he was even assaulted to kill few months before in February, this year. Nobody shall be allowed to see the dead body except the doctors who will perform the autopsy, and finalize the report before handing over the dead body to the formal claimant of the body on behalf of his family, the administration cautioned.

This may be the scenario, back in Munich, where sleeping alone in an apartment the beloved teacher of the students of Dhaka University, the fearless voice against the opportunists, obscurantist, extremist religious fundamentalists, breathed his last and now lie cold, speechless. From henceforth, for the rest of him and for him will all be done by others—as also those for him, as it would be told by others, he has no more to say, no more to be done, by himself or for himself.

Yesterday, Dr. Azad's death topped all news in the TV channel, not Khaleda Zia or else, could not believe, was it a mockery. The wailing of the Dr. Azad's family members brought me to senses –what's going on? See, what they are telling—how, when? Flash of Shariar Kabir standing motionless, speechless –what to say? His wide forehead with signs of perspiration. Arefeen Siddique echoed my feelings –it was unbelievable—we want a proper enquiry.

Morning brought with headlines and all the details filling columns and pages of the newspapers. Going along the day with heavy mind sliding down the precipice, came the question—why we need the autopsy report of the German experts of Forensic Medicine? Do we really need it to know the cause of his death? Does it bring anything for us with any value to add more than those we know already?

His life was getting drained out. First, the assassination attempt of those heinous criminals driving blows after blows with the crudest tools back in February. He fought for his life for 72 hours and resurrected. After two months of medical treatment commenced his normal life. He and his university colleagues were receiving life threats from the clandestine groups of religious fanatics. Progressive political leaders were also being targeted. His son, Annanya escaped miraculously from the kidnap attempt. He was fearless no doubt, but he was so worried about his family. On the other hand he was watching his beloved country everyday regressing with the rise of religious fundamentalists. Bangla Bhai, episode in Rajshahi. Pictures of dead bodies hanging from the trees. Assassinations of the politicians and the journalists—the British HC in Sylhet, Balu in Khulna, Ahsanullah Master in Gazipur—and a long list of them. He was under constant and tremendous mental torture to find the country regressing. He was dying inch by inch, everyday—now we know?

The day I read the news of Dr. Azad getting a Fellowship and proceeding for Germany for 9 months—I felt so pessimist. How can the plant live severed from the roots when the plant is already catch weak by pain and disease of mental torture?

Dr. Azad's decision to accept the Pen fellowship and be away from all these tensions and tortures were his or his families—I do not know, and I have no query on that anymore. Only, from that much I have learnt about D. Azad, I can conclude to say today, that, useless is the autopsy report of the Forensic Medical doctors of Germany. Who we love and share the soul, know it very well, the cause of his death.

If after coming back from Bangkok, he would have seen that his blood did not go in vain altogether-- and there was some improvement. If he could see the light of the growing force-- how faint it would be--was going to stop turning the wheel from backwards, then the blows of the machete, which drained so much of his life, would have not mattered. On the contrary he was watching everyday the fundamentalists and their clandestine terror organizations were growing. He left Bangladesh, only with deep wound in his self-esteem, without a tourniquet.

A true General cannot leave his foot soldiers in the battlefield and live with peace. "Unbearable pain of wounded self-esteem"-- finally was the cause of his death. This is what the autopsy report should say. I do not need to know what the German Forensics are going to say— I do not care that anymore, when they were already so careless for his personal well-being and safety.

I hear his voice, from the cold room in Munich, or whose, I do not know—

"There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ship's smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're sayin'.
When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb."(1)

"Hey you,
Out there in the cold,
Getting lonely, getting old,
Can you feel me?
Hey you,
Standing in the aisle,
With itchy feet and fading smile,
Can you feel me?
Hey you,
Don't help them to bury the light.
Don't give in without a fight."(2)

Afroza Begum
Dhaka, August 14, 2004

(1) & (2) Compositions of Pink Floyd.