In honour of Courage and Friendship
On March 29, 2016, Emory University took the decision that they would not leave Faraaz and Abinta as mere memories. They decided that they would honour the spirits of Faraaz and Abinta as symbols of the values on which the institution is grounded. Two of their own, students who touched every soul they came across, two incredible individuals whom they will forever cherish. Emory University inaugurated the Hossain-Kabir room at their Oxford College campus deciding that Faraaz and Abinta will forever remain at the core of the university's heart.
As we arrived at the venue for the naming and reception that had taken place on the Oxford campus of Emory University, I, along with Mama (my mother), Nana Bhai (grandfather) and Nanu Ma (grandmother), were met by the embrace of the Emory family. Deans from each of Emory's colleges were in attendance, as were faculty; and brimming with emotion was the gathering of students. The students who had organised the naming ceremony were wearing t shirts that they themselves had designed. The t shirts sported a sketch of Seney Hall, the oldest building on Emory's Oxford campus, with the Bangladeshi flag flying over it. A true testament that this is a community on which Faraaz and Abinta made an impact as peers, friends, leaders, role models and above all, an impact they made by the happiness they had brought upon the entire Emory community.
Rushay Amarath, a sophomore at Emory University, a bright young man who considered Faraaz a mentor, spoke at the ceremony, expressing how he had always believed that "grief would fly away on the wings of time" yet how grief has failed to leave this campus. Fueled by sentiment, not only of the grief that has not left them but more so out of immense pride, the students named what used to be the Akin Room as the Hossain-Kabir room. This act, of naming the Hossain-Kabir room, etched Faraaz and Abinta's names onto the walls of Emory University; on that day Faraaz and Abinta became a part of the school's story.
The room is located within Candler Hall, the first building a student sets foot into, to collect his or her dorm room keys as they begin their journey. Now, incoming students every year, for generations to come, will set their eyes on the Hossain-Kabir room. They will learn of the Bangladeshis whom the students have chosen to hold forever as an integral part of the school's history and that the impact they have made continues to transpire into the lives of all those who will learn the story of this room.
As Faraaz's brother and an Emory University alumnus, my pride in him continues to surge. I always knew he was an exception of a human being, an outstanding student, a born leader, yet the mark he has left in this world is beyond comprehension. He has left many in tears but what increasingly overshadows the grief has been the unceasing pride in the eyes of those he has touched; many he had never even had the chance to meet. Faraaz's act of humanity on July 1st, the refusal to abandon his friends Abinta Kabir and Tarishi Jain when asked to leave by armed terrorists, was a display of values that is cherished across the globe, transcending all differences. His unwavering friendship, indomitable courage and his stand for humanity are virtues that Emory University embraces, values that we in Bangladesh live by. Honouring Faraaz and Abinta by naming the Hossain-Kabir room was not only Emory University's recognition of how incredible these two individuals were, it was a statement that we all stand in solidarity against - intolerance, injustice, as we value courage, friendship and humanity.
Every time I think of Faraaz I am reminded that life is uncertain; we do not know how long we may be in this world and that the imprint we leave behind is not constrained by time. It is not the number of years that define us nor do our years quantify a life well-lived or even a life lived to its fullest. In twenty years, Faraaz's impact has gone beyond the the boundaries of our country, and past the boundaries that separate human beings, be it race, religion or nationality. 'Mama' (our mother) had always encouraged Faraaz and I to make a positive impact wherever we went; before going off to university both of us went with the goal to make her proud. Today, Faraaz has not only made his name a part of the university's but has made his name across the world. When the day comes for my children to go to university on their quest to make a difference, I will take them to the Hossain-Kabir room. I will take them as a reminder that they too are a continuation of Faraaz's invincible legacy. That they too have a responsibility, as do I, to live every waking moment with courage fighting for what is right in this world; to keep fighting for what Faraaz stood for.
Thinking back to my time as a university student I cannot but help relate my sentiment to Dooley, a university tradition, a skeletal mascot that is known as a representation of Emory University's spirit. Dooley's chant goes, "Presidents may come, presidents may go; professors may come, professors may go; students may come, students may go; but Dooley lives on forever!", well Dooley, Faraaz and Abinta live forever.
The writer is an Emory University alumnus and elder brother of Faraaz Ayaaz Hossain.
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