A brush with life

A brush with death can sometimes be a brush with life. I was holding the hands of Lily Choudhury, a brave theatre activist in her younger days, the able partner of Professor Munier Choudhury, and mother of Mishuk Munier. Clad in a blue saree, her gaze was far away. Poised as a dove, she spoke in a soft voice, the turmoil in her mind deeply submerged in her grace and boldness to face life.

At their Banani home, where all the beautiful green foliage is still fresh and vibrant, the intricate alpana on the steps to her living room still colourful, she sits as a witness of the untimely departure of her dear ones.

My mother, who was a student of Professor Munier Choudhury, embraced her and reminded her of her golden days at the University quarters. Bhashan (Ahmed Munier) and Mishuk (Ashfaque Munier) were the two boys my parents remember fondly; Tanmoy (Asif Munier) was probably not born yet. We sat pensively with the family, as the mother spoke of her son, Mishuk. What startled me was that she found out about her son's demise through TV. She said she heard about a disaster and as she turned on the TV, she was sincerely hoping that the news would say that he was hurt, but alive. But then the news struck her. It is impossible to comprehend the hurt in a mother's heart when she learns of such a sudden tragic end to her son's life. She also mentioned that since her grandson Shuhrid was at Apollo Hospital the night before, Mishuk had stayed with him.

He left early for the selection of a filming location in Manikganj. She said that Mishuk had moved to Bangladesh to be close to his mother and motherland.

Mishuk Munier had worked for over ten years as a cameraperson for BBC World Services. He was bold and with an indomitable spirit, worked in conflict zones and disaster areas in different parts of the world. He had acquired invaluable technical expertise in broadcasting and had started to utilise the fruits of his expertise in his own land -- the land for which his father was martyred.

As the footage of Mishuk talking to women in Netrakona, teaching them about Skype flashes on the TV, it does something to me. A warrior, equipped with knowledge and dreams and bursting with life cannot and should not die that easily. Those who dare to dream to change the world are larger than life. Death, cold as steel, cannot steal that spirit. It lives on in the many lives he has touched -- in that little child in danger in Libya, or the many people whose tragedies found a language in his beautiful shots. Whenever you think of Mishuk Munier, it is a brush with life, not death.