Ahmed Sofa (Bangla: 唳嗋唳Ζ 唳涏Λ唳�) was a well-known Bangladeshi philosopher, poet, novelist, writer, critic, translator. Sofa was renowned for his intellectual righteousness as well as his holistic approach to the understanding of social dynamics and international politics. His career as a writer began in the 1960s. He never married. On 28 July 2001, Ahmed Sofa died in a hospital in Dhaka. He was buried in Martyred Intellectuals' Graveyard.
Sofa helped establishing Bangladesh Lekhak Shibir (Bangladesh Writers' Camp) in 1970 to organize liberal writers in order to further the cause of the progressive movement.
Ahmed Sofa's outspoken personality and bold self-expression brought him into the limelight. He was never seen hankering after fame in a trivial sense. His fictions were often based on his personal experience. He protested social injustice and tried to portray the hopes and dreams of common people through his writing. Sofa always handled his novels with meticulous thought and planning. The trend of telling mere stories in novels never attracted him; he was innovative in both form and content.
It's a shame that I only recently started reading books authored by Ahmed Sofa. I have been hearing his name for quite some time, but it wasn't until 2020 that I finally picked up a copy of "Joddopi Amar Guru", which was a splendid book to read.
After that, I kept on reading his books, and this is my latest read.
Just like the famous novel-turned-movie "Ongkar鈥�, Moron Bilash (celebration of death; in my words) is a short novel. It is about a dying politician, who has been infamous for switching sides and for being consistent in maintaining his minister status through different political regime changes. Rings a bell, doesn't it?
Now, on his death bed, he finds a sycophant in the form of "Mawla Box" who started off as a typical sweet tongued person, but by the end of the night, he becomes quite rebellious.
Basically, the corrupt politician, Fazle Ilahi keeps narrating his life's different misdeeds to Mawla Box. His narrative has a clear confessional tone, but the stories of his past misdeeds not only paints a typical picture of a person who lived through a life of corruption, but it also gives us a good history lesson.
Ilahi realizes that cancer is killing him, and declares that he will die in the morning.
Then he starts a kind of a monologue with Mawla Box. At first, Mawla is subdued, but eventually he starts taking an interest in the minister's life, and adds some much needed diversity.
From Ilahi's stories, we get to experience an abridged version of Bangladesh's history; starting all the way back from the days of 1947 and on to the current days.
We are introduced with characters and plots that well deserve novels of their own. Some of the stories are shocking, some have significant, and yet, not too unpredictable plot twists, while some are just unique.
However, the events themselves are not much to write home about, but instead, we get to read the inner thoughts of Fazle Ilahi; an all-powerful home-minister, in his most vulnerable state. Just like any other normal human being, we see him get humanized.
By the end of the night, the role of the sycophant has almost reversed. He hates his master, and starts calling him by his name. I must say, both the characters in the book went through significant development within the short scope of the novel.
This book is a relatively easier read, in comparison with some of Sofa's other non-fiction (Bangali Musolmaner Mon) or even fiction (Pushpo, Brikkho ebong Bihongo Puran) books.
I highly recommend it. Did not read any reviews or anecdotes on this book before buying it. The title intrigued me, and I am glad that I picked it up.