I did not know Ishrat Akhond, one of the 28 diners killed in the Holey Artisan Bakery in Dhaka. But a link took me to her Facebook page and something reached out to me like the warmth of a little persuasive flame. The words she had used to describe an Iftar meal. The words,”stubborn gladness” made famous by Elizabeth Gilbert who in turn had borrowed them from her favourite poet Jack Gilbert’s take on what the human spirit can do to deal with sorrow, loss, tragedy.
“We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world. To make injustice the only
measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.”
Ishrat, from what I read in the tributes to her and in the accounts describing her last moments, was a woman who lived with stubborn light, joy and hope in the face of what would have been a challenging though rewarding existence of a self-willed, strong woman. Ishrat had lived 45 years of her life finding things that she could feel happy about. Happiness was not an incidental occurrence for her. It was a mission. She was an influencer and would share stuff on her page that could change people’s lives. Like stories about habits, ‘That Can Steal Your Happiness’ and little things that ‘Make You Happier.’ There were multiple posts about happiness. Quotes, stories, pictures. A happy potato signifying post Iftar indulgence. A puppy. The video of a little girl giving hugs to everyone at a supermarket.
She would mark her shares with a joyful phrase..” I am happy today…” or “Happiness for all…be blessed, be happy.” One of her posts read, ” I am happy today because it’s been an amazing start when I entered at work this morning. The room had such nice soft fragrance. I thought perhaps it’s the new air-freshener. Then it felt more natural. Then I came closer to the plant and got amazed. It’s in bloom. Never thought of an indoor plant with flowers. Last week the gardener placed a new plant in my office room as he always changes plants. But this is a sheer surprise. This shows his love and dedication for his work. I am touched with his gesture and am feeling awesome, thinking, how blessed I am to have such amazing people around me.”
One of the last things she shared was a video shot by life coach Robin Sharma in the Robben Island cell of Nelson Mandela. She was a woman who cared about everything. About the hole in the Ozone layer. The passing of artist KG Subramanyan. Football, food, art, people, all of life. She was the Human Resources Director of one of Bangladesh’s largest garments manufacturing company — ZXY International FZCO and Arts Provocateur at Institute of Asian Creatives – IAC. A good friend. A good woman beyond the definition of good specified in any religious book.
On Friday night, she had gone to dine with two Italian designers who were visiting Bangladesh and refused to use her religion as a shield when terror struck. She was hacked to death. There is nothing to be said to those who loved her and were touched by her life, her courage. The only thing that one can say is that she should not have had to die to bring home to us the simple truth that joy is the biggest act of defiance and that a spirit that feeds on joy can never be conquered by fear. Or death. She lived up to the words she had posted once, “Be a lover, not a fighter but always fight for what you love.”
If there is one thing we can do to honour Ishrat’s memory, it is to accept “our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world. ” Because to make murder, violence, terror and injustice the only magnets of our attention would be to vindicate them. In the memory of Ishrat, let there be a movement, a revolution of joy where people begin each day with the affirmation of, “I am happy..because..” And find something to take joy in. Even it is something as small as a flower growing in an unlikely place, against all odds.
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Reema Moudgil is the editor and co-founder of Unboxed Writers, the author of Perfect Eight, the editor of Chicken Soup for the Soul-Indian Women, a translator who recently interpreted Dominican poet Josefina Baez’s book Comrade Bliss Ain’t Playing in Hindi, an RJ and an artist who has exhibited her work in India and the US and is now retailing some of her art at http://paintcollar.com/reema. She won an award for her writing/book from the Public Relations Council of India in association with Bangalore University, has written for a host of national and international magazines since 1994 on cinema, theatre, music, art, architecture and more. She hopes to travel more and to grow more dimensions as a person. And to be restful, and alive in equal measure.