Kabori: Star in the galaxy of stars

Syed Badrul AhsanSyed Badrul Ahsan
Published : 19 July 2021, 01:34 PM
Updated : 19 July 2021, 01:34 PM

When Kabori went under intensive care earlier this year, I prayed that she would recover and come back home. Yes, she had contracted the virus which had been felling tens of thousands around the world. Yes, there was precious little chance that she would recover and yet I prayed for her. I prayed because hers had been a powerful presence in Bangladesh's film industry. I prayed because she was a good friend and I was not prepared to lose her to mortality.

But mortality did claim her in the end. Today, on what should have been a celebration of her birthday, on a day I would have picked up the phone from abroad, where I happen to be currently, to wish her 'Happy birthday' and hear her cheery response, interspersed with humour, I remember the times when Kabori became part of my understanding of those who have enriched Bangladesh's movie industry.

But, yes, there were the pre-1971 days, when as a very young student in school, I heard my parents and their friends discuss, in distant Baluchistan, a new movie that was making waves in what was then East Pakistan. It was Shutorang they were dwelling on. Young as I was, I had no idea what the term 'shutorang' meant. But when they spoke of Kabori and Subhash Dutta, I knew they were referring to a movie that certainly looked like a defining moment in Bengali cinema.

I remember the Urdu movie Bahana in which Kabori appeared. Her smile, her demure attitude in the delivery of her dialogues, the fact that she was attired in a saree — all of these made an impression on my very young mind. The image set me off into a journey through the world of my imagination. I needed to grow up fast and play the leading male role opposite Kabori in a movie. But, as they say, if wishes were horses … Kabori was a distant star that mere mortals like me could not touch, could not observe from close quarters.

And when the War of Liberation came, I wondered if the Pakistan occupation army had killed Kabori. She belonged to the Hindu faith, after all, and the soldiers were doing everything they could to cleanse the land of people who were non-Muslims, who were Bengali nationalists. But, once my family returned to occupied Bangladesh after a tortuous journey from Quetta, I learned from my relatives, to my intense relief, that Kabori had escaped the dragnet and had linked up with the Mujibnagar government in Calcutta.

My personal links were established with Kabori through my good friends Faroque Reza and his spouse Mohsena Reza. Mohsena, who is also known as Shopna, was my bright classmate in the English department of Dhaka University. She and Faroque bhai were already acquainted with Kabori, which was indeed exciting news for me. They invited me and Kabori, along with her youngest child, to dinner at their Gulshan residence.

What surprised me was the absolute lack of any formality, any aloofness, on Kabori's part. She was vivacious, she could engage in a beautiful conversation and she was pleasantly surprised to know of the interest I had taken in her career. And, yes, Kabori was at that point an elected member of the Jatiyo Sangsad from Narayanganj. Shopna, Faroque bhai and I always referred to her as 'The MP', even after her parliamentary term had drawn to an end. Every time the Rezas invited me to their home, I made it a point to ask them if the MP would be there. Imagine my happiness when they said she would be there. She was the life of the party.

There were times when Kabori appeared late for dinner, but we did the decent thing of waiting for her. When she turned up, sometimes at midnight, it was that arresting smile bathing her face of charming innocence which lighted up the room. I recall I once told her about the song, by Mahmudunnabi and picturised on Razzak even as she approaches the place where Razzak is singing the song. She did not quite recall the scene, but when I reminded her of the lyrics — borho eka eka laage tumi paashe nei bole — she brightened up. She asked me to sing it. I did and she joined me. It was a marvellous evening at the Rezas' residence.

There were the times when Kabori called me on the phone and I too would call her, to engage in good banter. Her sense of humour was infectious. And she enjoyed the jokes I related to her, laughing loudly at the other end of the line. She often indulged in quite teasing me about the old stories of my romance in my university days, wanting to know if the old embers were yet burning. My response was to the point: Yes, I told her. She laughed again.

In 2009, Kabori called me and told me that she would be travelling to the United States, where she would be speaking at a conference on women's empowerment in Bangladesh. Could she make a request? She wondered if I could prepare a brief speech, in English, for her on the subject. I did. She was happy. Nearly a decade later, thanks to my friend Toufique Imrose Khalidi, she had her memoirs, which basically had to do with her film career, published. Toufique arranged a reception befitting the reputation of the actor at his residence.

Every guest was enthralled at Kabori's humility, the ease with which she mingled and conversed with everyone. At one point, she and I held a copy of her book as the photographer clicked away. I treasure that picture and all the other pictures which marked the occasion. Sometime later — it was the Ekushey boi mela season — Kabori sat surrounded by admirers at the bpl stall. Some wanted her signature on their copies of her book, some others simply recorded her beautiful features on their mobile cameras and there were some who simply stared, in respect. I sat with her for some time. We both cracked jokes.

I cannot wish Kabori 'Happy birthday' today, for she is not with us anymore. But I do know that the star she was now abides in a galaxy of stars, in the expanding universe we call home.

I can yet trace the contours of the beauty which underlined her face and her mind, with that impish grin playing all over her, perhaps recalling the old Mahmudunnabi number:

Nupur kokhono baaje ki aaha / choron jodi na chole / akaash kobhu ki shaaje go aaha / tara jodi na jole / chorone nupur akaasher tara / mitali'r raage doley / ei tuku mone holey / borho eka eka laage / tumi paashe nei boley / nishi jaga koto kotha / mone eshe shuur tule.