Conversations with Suleman by Afsan Chowdhury is not merely a poetic narrative—it is a poignant dialogue with history. Through its verses, the poem takes the reader on a reflective journey across a turbulent chapter of Bangladesh, offering a deeply personal glimpse into the trauma, sacrifice, and aftermath of the liberation war of 1971.
Inspired by real events, the poem centres on Suleman, a freedom fighter who, despite surviving the war, emerges with life-altering injuries that leave him without the use of his limbs.
Afsan Chowdhury's work shifts the focus from the battlefield to the complex realities of post-war life. The poem candidly explores the disillusionment that follows the euphoria of independence
His voice, however, remains intact—and it becomes both his means of survival and resistance. Suleman’s experience is emblematic of the countless unnamed individuals who gave their dreams, dignity and lives for a newly born nation.
Afsan Chowdhury's work shifts the focus from the battlefield to the complex realities of post-war life. The poem candidly explores the disillusionment that follows the euphoria of independence, stripping away the idealism often associated with war and heroism. It reminds us that freedom, while noble and necessary, is not always redemptive in the face of ongoing suffering. It exposes the darker and starker consequences.
‘In this land punctuated by endless comma,
I Suleman, am looking for a full stop.’
These lines resonate deeply, quietly capturing the ongoing trauma Suleman endures. For him, the war does not end with peace; rather, it marks the beginning of a new internal battle.
A single reading is insufficient to fully absorb the poem’s depth; each return reveals another layer of grief, resilience, and meaning
As the poet references the waning months of the Bangla calendar, Suleman’s life gently concludes. The poem closes with a quiet but profound tribute:
‘Suleman battles on, therefore, I am.’
Conversations with Suleman invites philosophical introspection on the more profound meaning of freedom and independence. Suleman gains freedom in name, yet remains confined—physically, emotionally, and psychologically—by the legacy of war. This contrast speaks volumes about the complex layers of liberation.
In this poem, Afsan Chowdhury’s style is unfiltered, raw and powerful. He adeptly blends Bangla words without restrain yet with mellifluous perfection enriching the text’s authenticity and rhythm.
A single reading is insufficient to fully absorb the poem’s depth; each return reveals another layer of grief, resilience, and meaning. The emotional weight of liberation—the inevitable pain induced and the silence it leaves behind—is at the heart of the haunting, unforgettable Conversations with Suleman.