By Nirmal Sarker
This year marks the 40th anniversary of the Jagannath Hall October Tragedy of 1985. On that day, thirty-nine students lost their lives and hundreds more were injured when the old roof of the hall's assembly building collapsed. The day was the broadcast day of a popular TV drama serial, 'Shuktara'. My body and mind both still tremble, as someone who witnessed the tragic accident from very close or escaped safely after a short time.
It was pouring rain outside and the sky was cloudy. I took a rickshaw from Shahbagh although it was not far from the hall and got down the east gate of the hall. I quickly reached the door of the TV room. But there was not even a pea-sized space to sit in the room and watch the drama. So I stood next to the door and tried to watch. But neither listening nor watching was easy. On the other side of the eastern wall of the TV room, there lived a senior hall office staff. Due to being in the hall for a long time, I developed a relationship with almost all the hall staff. It was the same with this senior staff. Suddenly it came to my mind and I left the TV room and went to his house. Seeing me at the door, he said, "Babu, sit down for a moment. I will be back soon." But just before entering the bathroom, he heard a loud noise like a thunderbolt in the TV room. He opened the door next to his wall and said, ‘Babu, everything is ruined. Come quickly."
I tried to peek in, but it was not possible. The entire hall was covered in dust and smoke, and sand and gravels were falling from above. We could hear the sounds of "Save, save" and pitiful cries and screams’. As I tried, I saw that some students’ hands and feet were under iron beams. Some students had stone chains on their chests. Many students had iron bars like arrows piercing their bodies in various parts. The sound of voices echoing all around me was "I am here; get me out, save me." At that time, no one in the hall could stand. Everyone was trying their best to get the accident-hit students out of this pit of death in different ways. Many were able to do it, but many were not. Personally, with great pain, I was trying to do something until 10:00 or 10:30 in this haunted room. Suddenly it occurred to me that the work could not be done by hand or by normal means; we needed some mechanical assistance. By this time, the whole city became aware of it. Passersby, people from outside the hall, and neighbours gathered. Slowly, all kinds of efforts became impossible. The number of bodies started increasing and they were kept at the foot of the hall Shaheed Minar.
Once I came outside and saw the then MP Mr. Shudhangshu Shekhar Halder. I knew him but we never talked. Without thinking, I went closer to him and said, "Dada, it is not possible to get out those by normal hands and we needed skillful hands and mechanical arrangement. He said what that arrangement is and where it could be found. I said it could be found in the BDR or the cantonment. He said, "Let’s go." He had an ISKCON car with him. We went to the BDR with him. They said, "We don't have such a crane for such a big job."
We turned away and headed towards the hall. On the way back, I remembered that the Navy Chief lives in Eskaton and requested Sudhanshu Babu to go there. He agreed and we went to the place where the Navy Chief lives. Seeing us, especially me, the Navy Chief asked why there were blood stains on my body and clothes. Even I myself did not notice the blood on my shirt.
I told him about our hall. Hearing the incident he said that they knew everything. Our team will go there very soon. We returned to the hall and saw that the situation was even more pitiful. Huge crowd of people were weeping all around and tried desperately for help. But they could not do anything.
The number of bodies was increasing. At that moment I met one of our hall house tutors Mr. Ratan Lal Chakraborty. He knew me personally. He said, Nirmal, we have to go to Old Dhaka to get the coffin. Animesh De, another student accompanied us. We went to Old Dhaka. I understood that day how people do things for people. The owners and employees of all the coffin shops were telling us how many coffins we would need, and not to worry about payment.
At down, the foot of the Shaheed Minar was filled with corpses. By the end of the day, the bodies of those deceased were sent to their respective villages and cities by various means and routes through the efforts of the hall and the university authorities. I can recall, every year we only count, and celebrate the year. But our classmates and friends, the children of the deceased mom, never return.
The writer was a professor Of Notre Dame College and currently lives in Toronto, Canada.
