It was 1972. The country was wrecked. Families were wrecked. People had become emotionally, psychologically and financially bankrupt. The economy was wrecked, the government was wrecked. In fact, the whole country had been turned upside down with the Liberation War. There were vigilante groups everywhere. Killings on the streets by mobs was almost an everyday thing. Many young people had automatic & semi-automatic weapons - and they were using them.

Out of sheer frustration my wife and I decided to try our luck in the States. So, in June ‘91 we packed our bags, loaded the kids in the car and left Canada hunting for opportunities down south. My daughter was 5 and my son was only 6 months old at that time. We decided to stop at every major city along the eastern coastline going south towards Miami and would come back up along the western coastline. We would settle down anywhere that we liked, if there was an opportunity for me. We went as far down down as Miami stopping at various cities and as we were coming up along the western coastline of Florida, we both fell in love with Tampa. We drove into a gorgeous neighborhood with manicured lawns. Looked like a million-dollar neighborhood. There was a house for sale and I called the realtor who said asking price for that home was $140,000! We drove around the neighborhood

By October 1983 I was out of a job again. I decided to go back to accountancy and actively began my job search in that field – but there was nothing there, not for me anyway. So, very negative and frustrated – after a two-and-a-half-year struggle my confidence in Canada plummeted to 50 below zero and in November 1983 I decided to quit on Canada.

In July 1982 my friend Bashir came to visit me in Calgary with his wife and 18 year old nephew.

I arrived in Canada from UK on Friday May 8th, 1981. I was 26 ½ years old. For almost eight formative years prior to that, I had lived, worked and studied in and around London, UK. I even spoke with a British accent, which disappeared rather quickly after I arrived in Canada.

I was always the little guy, everywhere - so at a very young age I realized that the only way to get respect from the big guys was to beat them at something physical.

Almost until the end, normal everyday Bangladeshis had no idea as to how long our struggle would have to be or how long we would be able to continue resisting a fully armed professional army. Nevertheless, thousands of young people in their teens joined the Mukti Bahini. Many had no choice but to join either because their families were killed, or were driven out of their homes, or were being hunted by the enemy, but some joined even though they were in no apparent danger, perhaps because of their passion for independence, or perhaps they just could not sit back and watch the atrocities without doing anything - or some other reason.

Even after five decades, I remember the musty moldy smell of the book store that I grew to love. Whenever I walk into an old book shop or a small local library, the smell reminds me of my FCC (Faujdarhat Cadet College) bookstore. When winter blankets were issued, we used to put them out in the sun before using them.