February is the name of our pride, and as this month arrives, a strange thrill awakens in the hearts of Bengalis. When nature adorns itself in the crimson hues of Palash and Shimul, we are reminded of that heated afternoon in 1952. On that day, the streets were crimsoned with the fresh blood of young souls, and in exchange for that blood, we earned the right to speak in our mother tongue. In the history of the world, there is no other instance of sacrificing lives for one’s language, and this sacrifice remains the primary foundation of our national identity.
February 21st is not just a date; it is the name of a consciousness that taught us how to stand against injustice. When the Pakistani oppressors tried to snatch away the language of the Bengalis, they were essentially trying to strike at the root of our national identity and cripple our cultural existence. They realized that to destroy a nation’s heritage, one must first attack its language. But the indomitable courage of the Bengalis and their deep affection for their language thwarted all conspiracies. The seeds of the independent Bangladesh we live in today, where we speak Bengali with pride, were sown through the movement of ’52.
International Mother Language Day is now observed worldwide on February 21st, which is a matter of boundless pride for us. However, behind the veil of festivals and formalities, it is time to reflect on how pure our current language practice really is. A strange mixture of Bengali and English is particularly noticeable among the current generation, which is destroying the natural beauty of the language. In our obsession with being “modern,” we are beginning to forget our roots and are finding a sort of cheap elitism in presenting the language in a distorted way. Yet, those fearless predecessors sacrificed their lives so that future generations could speak in pure and fluent Bengali.
When February comes, we become very emotional and consider our duty done by placing wreaths at the Shaheed Minar. But true love for the language should not be confined to the frame of a single day or month. Respect for the mother tongue should be an inseparable part of every action in our daily lives. It is our moral responsibility to ensure the correct use of Bengali in offices, courts, educational institutions, and social media. When we learn other languages, it is certainly commendable—as many languages are needed for the pursuit of knowledge—but it should not be done by despising one’s own.
Today, under the influence of “Sky Culture” (satellite media), our children are becoming more attracted to foreign cultures than to local literature or language, which is not pleasant for our future. We must awaken an affection for Bengali in the hearts of our children from childhood and open up our rich treasury of literature to them. The vast literary empires of Rabindranath, Nazrul, Jibanananda, or Michael Madhusudan are richer than almost any other literature in the world. If we cannot provide the youth with a taste of that literature, they will never understand the greatness of this language.
There is also a need to expand the scope of Bengali in higher education and research; initiatives must be taken to present complex scientific topics in simple Bengali. If the Japanese or Germans can conquer the world using their own languages, we must have the stubborn resolve to not lag behind. In this era of information technology, making the use of Bengali easier and more popular is the demand of the time. If the repository of Bengali information on the internet can be enriched, the global acceptance of this language will increase.
February provides us with an opportunity for soul-searching and inspires us to correct our mistakes. Every letter of the alphabet is like the face of a martyr, and it is everyone’s responsibility to protect this sanctity. If we do not respect our own language, no one else will respect us. Currently, strict measures are needed to prevent the distortion of language in the media, as common people easily emulate what they hear or see.
We must remember that the blood of ’52 must not go in vain, and upholding the dignity of Bengali should be our ultimate vow. This Falgun, our pledge should be to practice standard Bengali and keep the language free from all forms of misuse. May the spirit of the twenty-first burn in our hearts as a beacon, leading us from darkness to light. May we always be able to say with pride that “Bengali is my identity and Bengali is our greatest refuge.” Leaving behind a beautiful and pure linguistic environment for our successors is the only way to repay this sacred debt.
Honoring the sacrifice of the martyrs, let us all hold Bengali in our hearts and spread its sweetness across the globe. May the lesson of “never bowing our heads” taught by the Immortal Twenty-first be reflected in every stage of our national life. The Bengali language is not just a medium; it is an immortal elixir flowing in our blood that repeatedly reminds us—we are a nation of heroes. May this February be the medium of our return to purity and a new beginning of selfless love for our language.
