A Story of a Real Avenger


There are many fictional superhero characters in comic books around the world published by many several publishers. Marvel is one of them who have a series of most powerful superheroes named ‘Avengers’. With the most powerful superheroes of their universe, they created it. However, the Avengers basically save the humankind from danger with their ultimate fictional power. But today we’ll know about an Avenger, a real superhero who tried to save his motherland by his non-fictional power. He was from the real Avenger’s team named Crack Platoon.

Magfar Ahmed Chowdhury Azad
A photo of the Crack Platoon member Magfar Ahmed Chowdhury Azad.

This is the story of a different minded rich-kid of that time who just completed his Masters of Arts in International Relation from Dhaka University. The man was the son of a wealthy man who usually comes to school by wearing shiny clothes and expensive cars. Whose music list was full of The Beatles, Rolling Stones, and Bob Dylan songs. He was that much fancy to buy a gramophone record of 1200 takas from Gitanjali in 1969-70s. It can be said he was a ‘DULAL’ of the wealthy family in the Bengali language. That man left these all aristocracy to save his motherland. And he is none other than Magfar Ahmed Choudhury Azad, a member of the Crack Platoon of Shahid Rumi.

When the Liberation War started, his studies began to falter. His rich father decided to send his son to Karachi. (Haque, 2003) But he disagreed with his father. He didn’t like West Pakistan for living or study. Azad stayed in East Pakistan and enrolled as a postgraduate of Dhaka University. Azad usually likes to hang out with his friends. During his postgraduation from Dhaka University, he usually goes to parties and programs. One day his friend Omor found a booklet regarding Agartala Conspiracy Case. Omor read that in front of Azad. Azad realized about that conspiracy and talked about justice. (Haque, 2003)

On 25th March of 1971, the Pakistani Army made the Dhaka city a hell city. Azad’s going out was prohibited by his mother. But he wanted to go out and watch the scenario. By fooling his mother’s eyes, he went out. On 27th March, curfew was withdrawn. Azad went out with his friend and saw city people leaving the city with suitcases and bags with them. They didn’t want to live in a mortuary. He also found out dead bodies here and there.  Suddenly Azad heard that Pakistani Army killed many DU students by a shoot in rows. After that, Azad decided to join the war along with Shahidullah Khan Badal, Asfakus Samad, Bodiul Alam, Mashud Omor and others.

By getting his mother’s permission, Azad joined the war as a member of the guerrilla team Crack Platoon in Dhaka city by leaving all his favourite records, gramophone, jeans and guitar at home. The guerrilla team was led and influenced by Major Khaled Mosharraf. The team’s tactic was hit and run. As the guerrilla team’s rule, Azad did reiki in the alleys of the city without eating or after eating one time and immediately attacked and fled again. He even worked here and there without perfect dressing and living. The boy who never slept without a soft mattress on an expensive bed is the one who sleeps on the ground in the garage of one house today and tomorrow in another place.

Being a guerrilla by leaving a prestigious life has never been an easy job, where Azad belonged to heavenly life. After meeting with Major Khaled Mosharraf, he said, an independent country doesn’t want alive guerrillas. But he didn’t care about that. He wanted to die for his motherland for his mother. (Haque, 2003)

Azad performed many operations along with Rumi, Bodi and others. One day Azad told his mother that, “Mom, I don’t do politics, even I didn’t join to the war to do politics, I’ve joined the war just to bring justice to Bengalis from oppressive Pakistanis. They did too much torture in Rajarbag Police Barak.” (Haque, 2003)

It’s about the end of August 1971, Azad was caught. He was taken to Ramna police station. Inhuman torture continued to find other members of the Crack Platoon. His mother ran to Ramna police station with great difficulty to find out where the boy was detained. There are sores all over the body, and fingernails have been removed, blood is oozing from there. Seeing the condition of her adorable son, the mother’s heart burst out. The boy says, “Maa, they punish a lot.” The mother said, keeping her pain down, “No matter how much they tortured you, you will not tell them anything about others.”

When his mother came back, Azad told her that he wants to eat rice. Bring some rice for him if she can. The next day, the mother ran to the Ramna police station again with rice in the morning. But the boy was no longer there. Mother came back home with a bowl of white rice with Chicken. Matter of sorrow that she was never found her adorable son again. Like millions of unnamed martyrs, that boy’s body has also been buried in the soil of this country. Nobody knows where his body is. Azad’s mother lived another 14 years. But she didn’t eat rice even once until her death. The rice that could not be fed to her adorable son for the last time, how can she eat that rice. She is Azad’s mother; it was her pride.

Azad was taken from Ramna police station to the torture centre set up at the Physical Training College in Mohammadpur. Azad was tortured to death there; with other superheroes of Crack Platoon, Rumi, Bodi, renowned composter Altaf Mahmood. The leader of the torture centre in Mohammadpur on that day was Nizami, the chief of the Badr forces, and later Matiur Rahman Nizami who became the minister of independent Bangladesh.

The despicable war criminal was able to eat the last meal at least as he wished. Chicken, white rice, mashed potato and eggplant fry was the last meal of Matiur Rahman Nizami, the Razakar, the chief of the Badr forces. Even after knowing that he was going to be hanged a few hours later, we can feel how satisfied he was to be able to eat rice. At least he was asked for the last meal, and he was allowed to eat accordingly in Azad’s independent Bangladesh.

There are millions of such superhero stories in every corner of this country. Mothers have sacrificed their thousands of adorable children to free the country, to free the Bangla. And, those children of the sun give us an independent country by using their ultimate power. This is not fictional power; this is real Avenger’s real power.

Crack Platoon
A photo of Crack Platoon team.

References: Haque, A. (2003). Ma. Dhaka, Bangladesh: Somoy Publications. (APA)


About the author

Benzir Ahammed Shawon

I'm Benzir Ahammed Shawon (বাংলা: বেনজির আহম্মেদ শাওন), also known as Benzir A. Shawon, from Beautiful Bangladesh. I'm an undergrad student. I'm studying Computer Science and Engineering under School of Engineering and Physical Science at North South University. I'm a computer science enthusiast. I love to write codes also blogs about those.

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Benzir Ahammed Shawon

I'm Benzir Ahammed Shawon (বাংলা: বেনজির আহম্মেদ শাওন), also known as Benzir A. Shawon, from Beautiful Bangladesh. I'm an undergraduate student. I'm studying Computer Science and Engineering as my major and Mathematics as my minor under the School of Engineering and Physical Science at North South University. I'm a competitive programmer. Also, machine learning and artificial intelligence researcher, technology and robotics blogger, robotics and microcontroller enthusiast. I love to code, solving problems, and play video games. My favorite computer languages are Python, Matlab, Java, C, and C++. And, my most favorite video game is Far Cry 3. I have good knowledge of Combinatorics. I can describe many things with patterns. I have studied 'Harmonies of the World' by Johannes Kepler and 'Liber Abaci' by Fibonacci. φ is my favorite irrational number, and the hexagon is my favorite polygon. I'm a Marxist, and a leader of the historical progressive leftist student organization, Bangladesh Students' Union.