November 29, 2004


It's too late for you to arrive now, love
It's too late for you to come now, life
It's too late, it's all too late…

I met him in person long ago. He was public relation officer of an insurance company and I went to him for an advertisement for one cultural organization. I knew that he was a famous poet but his behaviour did not reflect any showiness. He was just a calm and quiet human being and was very helpful to me. Now I read about him that he lived a very careless life. Its usual that to be creative, poets/painters and the likes have to search for new meanings of life. They try to experience life more intensively than others and usually are very sensitive and emotional human beings. I pray that he lives in Bangladesh through his poem eternally. Rest in peace, Tridib.


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