Saleh M. M. Rahman (Sezan Mahmud)
SSMC-13th Batch
MD, PhD, MPH
Assistant Dean
Professor of Medicine
Department of Medical Education
UCF College of Medicine
He is one of the Golden Man of Bangladesh,His Biography shows lots of thing,In every spare of life he always make a significant mark.
Lets have a look in a short. . . .
Part-1
I come from such a village (Shameshpur) in Sirajganj where electricity reached in the 21st century, in 2000. From my birth till 10th grade, all I’ve known is this village. I saw the effects of Liberation war in our country from this village at an age when it was still incomprehensible to me. This had a deeper impact on me at such an early age. In my novel “Amar Moner Ghuri Latai” I wrote about witnessing the dead body of a man, shot in the back by the Pakistani army. In his pocket, there was some money. This memory still and always will haunt me. My another novel “Agnibalak” depicts the influence of Lathikhela on my life. So in short, my village is an indispensable part of my life no matter where I am.
Since the beginning, my mother has been my source of inspiration, for all my literary work and that part of my life. I picked up my habit of reading books from her. She was married off when she was in 6th grade. She regretted her whole life not being able to continue her studies. But even while looking after a huge family, she always managed to find time to read books. I finished reading all the books written by the aristocrats of Bengali literature, Sharat, Rabi, Nazrul, Falguni, Bankim while in school. She used to stay up all night reading books. At dawn she would get up to do the household chores and I’d eagerly read those books. She sent me to a Madrasa alongside my regular school. I used to say my prayers regularly, call Azaan in the mosque, I even went to “Chilla”. But I had a thousand questions in my head, and no one to share them with. I used to go to mother. She might have lived in a little village, but my undereducated mother had a mindset like that of the greatest minds on earth. She never offered false explanations. She never imposed her beliefs on me.
In Shameshpur bazaar there was a barber named Khogen Sheel. My father came to know about his expertise in Sanskrit and Bengali. My father requested him to come to our house to teach me the 1st & 2nd parts of Ishwar Chandra, mathematics and Sanskrit. So, you can say that this is where it all started. Although we had slates and pencils that father brought from Kolkata (He used to travel to Kolkata for business purposes), he taught me to write on Kolapata, it’s said that it improves handwriting. And I found it to be true!
When I was sent to primary school after learning the basics from barber Khogen, the grades were divided into senior 1st, junior 1st, 2nd grade etc. I performed very well in junior 1st grade, so the teachers suggested to sit for the senior 1st grade exam. I stood first there, and therefore I sat for the next grade exam too. And like that I jumped 3 grades and so I was the youngest in my class. Because of this triple jump, when I sat for SSC exam, I wasn’t even 15. Where everyone usually lowers their age on paper, I on the other hand had to add a couple of years. I owe this rapid climb to my home tutor, Khogen sir. Let me tell you about a memorable story from my school life –
Just beside Jamtoil rail station was a high school – JDM High School. It was well known for its academic success. Rashedul Hasan, an ex-student of this school, died at an early age while studying in DMC. His family started “Rashedul Hasan Memorial Prize” in that school. The student who’d score the highest marks in 10th grade and SSC test exams would be awarded with this prize. A huge ceremony would be held to give away the prize. All the prestigious persons of the village, OC, DC of police would come to hand over the cash prize, books etc to the students. One time, I was to receive this award. My name was announced. When I went on to the stage to receive the prize wearing a lungi, DC sir didn’t quite think highly of me, as if I wasn’t the one to be receiving this. He looked here and there searching for a well-dressed someone. I stood there speechless thinking why am I still not getting the prize even after calling me to the stage. At that time, my mathematics teacher (Badol sir. he was a very angry man, but a good teacher) slapped me in front of everyone because I came wearing a lungi to this ceremony. Anyway, embarrassed on the stage, I took the prize. I had to get up on the stage a few more times that day to take prizes in other categories, still wearing that same lungi. Later that day, Badol sir came to me. His eyes welled up with tears. He hugged me and said, “Why did you have to wear a lungi on this particular day!”
Actually, the thing is I usually wore shirts and pants to school. I didn’t like lungi. But it had totally skipped my mind that the prize giving ceremony was on that day. My house was almost 3-4 kilometers away from my school, so I couldn’t change either. And of all days, I chose to wear a lungi on that day. At the end of the day, my reason for humiliation had rather turned into a distinction which set me apart from others. When the DC was giving his speech, he became a bit emotional. He started saying “Such an ordinary boy, yet such incredible results, such accomplishments” etc.
If I start reminiscing about the 7 years of my medical college, I could write a whole book about those times. I experienced the greatest joy of my life here and I had to go through the ugliest experience here as well. The greatest one is my beloved and thus now my family. The worst experiences had to do with different political problems. I made some good friends here. I got my inspiration to write the first novel in Bangladesh based on the liberation war, “Operation Jackpot” while in Mitford. While studying here, I also wrote more than 50 songs including “Nelson Mandela”, 10 or so books, won a Shishu Academy Award and so on. Let me tell you another story, this one I wrote about in “Beche Thakar Mane” series -
Medical science in Bangladesh has always revolved around education systems abroad, even still now. This is only natural. After 200 years under the reign of the British, if Bengali teachers were not trained abroad, they were neglected in government jobs. Even the patients didn’t bother to go to them. Some of our abroad trained professors were top notch doctors, and their temper was even hotter, and all the junior doctors and students had to stand it all. We had such a professor in surgery in our time, Dr. Abdul Majid, FRCS. He was a hot tempered person. He never once came to the class or the hospital without wearing a tie, even in the scorching heat of summer. Sometimes while taking classes, during power outages he would get drenched in sweat. One day seeing him like this all the students started laughing, and he said,” A man without a tie, is a man without a penis”.
As luck would have it, I got held up in surgery before my final professional exam because of my poor attendance in classes. I wrote songs, television scripts, newspaper articles, books all day long. So it wasn’t a surprise my attendance was low.
In the national book fair of 1992, I got offers from publishers for 6 of my books. Most probably Operation Jackpot, Shishu Academy Award, these paved the way. On the other hand, the final exams are held in January, May and September. If I sit for the exam in January, how am I supposed to write the books for the fair? I went up to Majid sir and told him, “Sir, I won’t appear on the exams in January. Please allow me to sit on the next session.” As usual in his foreign accent, he replied,” You bloody fool, give me one good reason why you won’t appear.” Everyone knows that if someone lags behind from the main batch, it becomes even tougher to pass the exams later on, government jobs become harder to get etc. I mustered up my courage and said,” Sir, every year exams are held 3 times, but the book fair comes only once. 6 of my books will be published in this year’s fair. Doesn’t it seem fair to prioritize the fair?”
He just stared at me, baffled, like he has never seen this kind of a fool in his life. He just said,” Come to my chamber tomorrowevening, come early.”
As I walked up to his chamber in Dhanmondi, I shook with fear. I honestly thought he might lose his temper and slap me. He probably didn’t want to create a commotion in the hospital and wanted to get this over with before patients come to his chamber. I sat alone in the chamber. A staff gave him the news of my arrival. He suddenly entered the chamber with a plate of mangoes, I stood there in awe. He said,” I diced the mangoes myself, have it.”
I was even more scared then, I started to imagine absurd things. I thought he’d pamper me first, and then slap me. He kept 2 books on the table. I was so caught up in fear I didn’t see that he was holding these books in his other hand, “Nakshi Kathar Maath” and “Shojan Badiyar Ghaat” by Jasim Uddin. Holding these books, He said, “Once the great poet Jasim Uddin came to my school. These are his autographed books. I traveled to many countries, but I’ve never lost these books. I will let you sit on your exams in the next session, but I want you to send copies of all of your books autographed to my children’s name and pass all three exams in one attempt. Can you promise me this?”
That year all 6 of my books (Highest record in the book fair) were published together. On one side of “Bichitra” newspaper was news about Humayun Ahmed’s books, and on the other side about mine. I kept my word. I sent autographed copies of my books to his house. I even passed Surgery, Medicine and Gynae exams altogether.
I live thousands of miles away from here, but I still think of him. Whenever I started to slip off the track, those loving hands would keep me in check. I well up with tears when I think of how blessed I am to have these comforting people in my life. They give my life another meaning.
My first book publishing, it is one of my sweetest memories, but an unbearable experience too. I left Sirajganj and came to Dhaka to study in college. I wrote songs, articles and jingles for a living. I was getting cash money, I didn’t have to work that much either. I sometimes wrote rhymes for a newspaper called “Unmad”. I used to write up the sarcastic rhymes from news, and the cartoonist was Ahsan Habib. One day while chatting, he proposed to start a publications business. He asked me to give him my draft writings. He was quite a humorous person. So, he naturally said, “We’ll go broke if we publish your book. Better yet, collect stories written by famous authors and publish a book with those, and publish another book with only your writings. The profit from one book will cover for the loss from another.”
He might’ve said that as a banter, but at that time it was the truth. I started working on collecting teenage mystery stories. I was thrilled, my rhyme book “Habijabi” was to be published at the same time. That was when I first got to know that Humayun Ahmed and Muhammad Jafar Iqbal were his siblings. The persons I set out to meet with since childhood were so near me. Ahsan Habib advised me, “You are the editor. Its your job to persuade him to give his stories to you. Its not that easy a task to win him over.” It wasn’t easy, but I did finally get his stories. In the fair of 1989, the teenage mystery book was published which had writings from Shawkat Osman, Shawkat Ali, Rahat Khan, Humayun Ahmed, Muhammad Jafar Iqbal, Imdadul Haque Milon, Sezan Mahmud and a few more authors. This book was a huge success. It was even selected for the nationwide competition of book reading arranged by the National Library. My first book “Habijabi” was finally published too. It won the Shishu Academy Award (1989). Thus, a successful “Dinratri publications” was born.I didn’t know that much about the Shishu Academy Awards, about the selection process or the people concerned. But I used to take loans from my nephews and nieces and tell them if I ever won the Shishu Academy Award, I’d give the money back. They used to pull my leg. One Friday, Trishna went to her house from the hostel. Her father was reading an old daily newspaper. The news about the award was published in that newspaper. He asked Trishna, “He won the award. Why didn’t you tell us about it?” Actually, none of us knew about it. Trishna was so overjoyed, she came straight to our house in Rampura, but I was still in my hostel. We didn’t have phones then. My niece called me on the only coinbox in our hostel. The canteen boy woke me up from sleep to receive the call. I was sleeping in because I had to study all night. As soon as I picked up the phone, she said, “Uncle you won the Shishu Academy Award!” I got so angry, I started yelling at her. I thought she woke me up for pulling a prank on me. Trishna took over the phone and assured me that I really had won the award. I left for Rampura on my bike at once. I was awarded alongside nationwide cherished famous personalities. Beside me were Rafiqun Nabi, Qayyum Chowdhury, Dr Hayat Mahmud, Amzad Hossain etc. This was truly a joyful moment.
Part-2
I went to Joslin Diabetes Center of Harvard Medical School in 1995-96 for my fellowship. I came alone. Trishna was back in Bangladesh. She sent me a copy of “Charupath” book over FedEx, on that she wrote, “I couldn’t find a better gift for you this Eid.” I was so upset. I called to shout at her, why did she go to such lengths to send me a copy of the 6th grade Bengali textbook “Charupath”? I thought maybe it had a poem that I wanted to read, but she could’ve just sent me a photocopy of that page. Turning the pages, I saw the names of Rabindranath, Nazrul, Jasim Uddin, Dr Muhammad Shahidullah and then “Sezan Mahmud”. An article I wrote, “Payer Niche Everest” was included in the textbook. It was based on the last 2 days of Hillary-Tenzing conquering the Everest, about which I wrote in my book “Bissher Shreshtho Dosh Obhijatri”. It was a genuine token of national recognition. I made my place at such an early age in the textbook, moreover while being abroad, I was so overjoyed, I felt on top of the world.
My mother loves the village life. America or Dhaka, she doesn’t like any of it. I call her irregularly regularly. One day, she called me from Bangladesh. So much noise of children, I couldn’t hear her properly. I asked, “Where are you?” She said, “I’m home. A teacher of the high school next village was teaching “Payer Niche Everest” to the class. In the author biography it was written that the author lives in Shameshpur village. The teacher said to the class, “Did you know, the author lives only 1 and a half miles from here!” He along with the whole class walked to our house to see it. I gave them Mowa and Murki to eat. The kids are enjoying themselves so much. But you’re not here. I gave your books for them to see.” Her voice cracked, she was crying while talking to me. I guess I picked up this habit from her, of spending tears of joy. This was the greatest prize of my life. I sometimes say to myself that one day one of these kids will literally bring Everest below their feet. Being able to dream, this gives me the feeling of fulfilment of living this life.
When I was a student in Harvard, it was time to celebrate the 25th birthday of Bangladesh in the campus. Left to me were Ex Professors of Boston University, Hanna and Gustav Papanek, and Amartya Sen to my right. Amartya Sen didn’t get the Nobel then, but his name could be heard chanted across the campus, so it was only a matter of time he did. The Papanek couple worked towards the independence of Bangladesh since the very beginning of the liberation war. Many Bengali students in Boston University weren’t receiving their money from Bangladesh due to Pakistan’s interference. This couple donated their own salaries and collected money from other sources and distributed those among the Bengali students. They, along with two more writers even drafted a position paper favoring the independence of Bangladesh. When news about this couple was published in the New York Times, they both lost their jobs. At the beginning of the celebration, Hanna Papanek expressed how outraged she was, only after 25 years of independence, the young generation have lost their interest in the fight for freedom. She was very disappointed.
I raised my hand and respectfully disagreed with her. I was only 4/5 during liberation war, so in that sense I am a part of this young generation. But I have immense interest in the liberation war, and there are a lot of young people just like me. Half of my published books were based on our freedom fight, the most popular among these were “Operation Jackpot” and “Muktijuddher Shera Lorai”. Then I heard they actually knew about the books but they were unaware that the author was so young. Hanna Papanek smiled, she said, “Then you will be the one to cut the cake celebrating this silver jubilee and you will sing the national anthem too.” Everyone stood up as I cut the cake which had the map of Bangladesh drawn on it. I sang to my heart’s content, Amar Shonar Bangla Ami Tomay Bhalobashi. The amazing thing was that many Americans present there sang our national anthem along us. I couldn’t hold myself, I ended up with eyes full of tears.
I used to be very excited about prizes and awards in my childhood. But now I don’t feel almost anything. If the recognition of something is proper, it must be valued. But it doesn’t excite me anymore. The awards I received for literature – Shishu Academy Award, Hour Pride Award (by Bangladesh American Foundation), Global Corporate Award ( It was given together with the Bollywood IIFA) and the awards for my profession – American Public Health Association Early Career Award (First Asian), American Association for Cancer Research Faculty Scholar Award (2 times), Outstanding Achievement Award (Alabama Power Foundation), IDF (International Diabetes Foundation) Award, James Snyder Award (Harvard).
Always dream big. Honesty, labor and humanity, never leave their side, then reach for your goals. The whole world is your workplace, an infinite number of possibilities lie ahead. But above all, spread the name and fame of this country, no matter where you are, as long as you have patriotism in your heart.
The books I’ve written – Habijabi, Tusharmanob, Operation Jackpot, Harvard er Sriti O Onno Ek America, Moner Ghuri Latai, Agnibalok, Leethi, Ayushkal O Trimilar Prem, Obhijatri, Poth Haranor Poth, Muktijuddher Rochona Shomogro, Project Adhunikong, Biggyan Nirbhor Adventure Shomogro, Muktijuddher Shera Lorai, Manusher Moddhe Manush, Cosmic Shongeet, Palte Shudhu Lebash.