Remembering Rezaul Karim
Mahfuzur Rahman
We were not particularly close, Rezaul Karim and I, but we have been good friends for over half a century. The shock of the news of his death in Cairo on Friday ushered in nuggets of reminiscences. I write them down as my final tribute to Reza -- patriot, diplomat, gentleman, friend. The first time we met was in 1952 when we both enrolled in first year honours in Economics at Dacca University. Tall, handsome, and quick to smile, he was a charmer. It was, however, at a special two-year course in French that I came in closer contact with him. He finishes his honours in Economics in 1954 and decided not to go on to do his master's in the subject. He went off to Karachi. I stayed on. Our path forked away in very different directions. We had only a few and cursory contacts since then. But on every occasion he was all grace and smile. Decades later, and only a few years ago, he visited me in my Manhattan apartment. I showed him a photograph. It was taken in 1953 in the grounds of the Dacca University arts faculty building. And there we were: Reza, Anisur Rahman, now economist and exponent of Tagore music, Munimun Nesa of the department of English, and I. Anis, Reza and I were in pajama pants, shirts, and slippers, the usual attire of college students then. Reza was visibly moved to see the photograph. I had a copy made and presented it to him. Our contact got intermittent again. As if to make up for it, The Daily Star published, less than a year ago, a fairly long article by Reza on a third world leader whom he lauded, which was immediately followed, in the same issue of the paper, by a short article of mine in which I excoriated his hero. I do not believe that either the editors or the reader knew that the two opposing views were those of two old friends. But we came together on paper. The last time I saw Reza was in August this year, just over two months ago. Syeduzzaman, mutual friend, threw a dinner for old university mates, primarily to say bon voyage to Reza who was soon to leave for Cairo to take up his ambassadorial post. He did not look very well. But as usual, he was all smiles. As expected, he also spoke. There were speculations, he said enigmatically, about (among others) how long would he last in Cairo as ambassador. Some speculations, he said, had it that he might last just about a year, an obvious allusion to a possible change of government. He smiled and left it at that. The news of his passing must now make those last words poignant in the extreme to all those present. To me they are. Goodbye, Reza! You will be missed.
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