The attack on Chhayanaut has left behind more than broken instruments and burnt books. It has left a deep wound in the space where music once lived quietly.
Singer-songwriter Kabir Suman talked to News Ei Samay, and reacted to the visuals with pain and disbelief. He said, “All these cruel acts that happen are born out of foolishness, ignorance, and arrogance. It is evident that quite a few people are turning this very matter into their entire identity-be it in India or Bangladesh. It brings shame, and it brings fear.”
After the death of Inquilab Mancha spokesperson Sharif Osman Hadi, violence broke out in parts of Bangladesh. Amid the unrest, Chhayanaut, a cultural institution known for Rabindra Sangeet, Nazrul geeti, and decades of research-based music practice was vandalised late at night. Musical instruments were smashed, rare books and handwritten notes were burnt, and the building was left in ruins.
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Suman admitted he did not know who Osman Hadi was and said he no longer follows such news closely, as he doesn’t want to anymore. But what disturbed him deeply was what he got to know about the incidents instead, images of destruction. “The news through which I am indirectly receiving this expression of grief, I saw a picture of a harmonium being thrown and smashed,is this a form of expressing grief?” he asked.
For him, the sight of a broken harmonium said everything. A place meant for music, learning and peace had been turned into a site of anger and disappointment. “I am a 77-year-old old man; what more can I say, tell me-I remain silent,” Suman added.
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Chhayanaut’s general secretary, Laisa Ahmed Lisa, has already condemned the attack and demanded a proper investigation. While expressing condolences for Osman Hadi’s death, she made it clear that violence against a cultural institution cannot be justified in any form.
What remains now is silence- the kind Kabir Suman spoke of. And in that silence, a difficult question lingers: when grief turns into destruction, what is really being mourned?
