"Ekusher Gaan" ( ; "Song of the Twenty-first"), more popularly known by its incipit as "Amar Bhaiyer Rokte Rangano" ( ; "My Brothers' Blood Spattered"), is a Bengali protest song written by Abdul Gaffar Choudhury to mark the Bengali language movement in 1952 East Bengal. It was first published anonymously on the last page of a newspaper with the headline Ekusher Gaan, but was later published in Ekusheys February edition.
The song was initially written as a poem in 1952 at the bedside of an injured language movement activist who was shot by the Pakistani military police. The cultural secretary of the Jubo League gave the poem to Abdul Latif to put to a tune, which Latif Atikul Islam first sang. The students of Dhaka College also sang the song when they attempted to build a Shaheed Minar on their college premises, getting them expelled from the college. Altaf Mahmud, a renowned composer and a martyr of the Bangladesh Liberation War, recomposed the song in 1969 using Abdul Latif's version, which is now a quasi-official tune.
The song is often recognized as the most influential song of the language movement, reminding numerous Bangladeshis about the conflicts of 1952. Every 21 February sees people from all parts of Bangladesh heading to the Shaheed Minar in the probhat feri, a barefoot march to the monument, paying homage to those killed in the language movement demonstrations by singing this song. It is regarded by the listeners of BBC Bengali Service as the third best song in Bengali.
Lyrics Bengali originalRomanisation of BengaliEnglish translation by Kabir ChowdhuryGlassie, Henry and Mahmud, Feroz. 2008. Living Traditions. Cultural Survey of Bangladesh Series-II. Asiatic Society of Bangladesh. Dhaka. pp. 578–579My brothers' blood spattered on the twenty-first of February Can I forget the twenty-first of February incarnadined by the love of my brother? The twenty-first of February, built by the tears of a hundred mothers robbed of their sons, Can I ever forget it?
Wake up all serpents, all summer thunderstorms, Let the whole world rise up in anger and protest against the massacre of innocent children. They tried to crush the demand of the people by murdering the golden sons of the land. Can they get away with it at this hour when the times are poised for a radical change? No, no, no, no, in the history reddened by blood The final verdict has been given already by the twenty-first of February.
It was a smooth and pleasant night with the winter nearly gone, and the moon smiling in the blue sky, and lovely fragrant flowers blossoming on the roadside, and all of a sudden rose a storm.
Fierce like a wild horde of savage beasts, even in the darkness we know who those beasts were. On them we shower the bitterest hatred of all mothers, brothers and sisters. They fired at the soul of this land, They tried to silence the demand of the people, They kicked at the bosom of Bengal, they did not belong to this country. They wanted to sell away her good fortune. They robbed the people of food, clothing and peace. On them we shower our bitterest hatred.
Awaken today, the twenty-first of February. Our heroic boys and girls still languish in the prisons of the tyrant. The souls of my martyred brothers still cry. But today everywhere the somnolent strength of the people have begun to stir, And we shall set February ablaze by the flame of our fierce anger. How can I ever forget the twenty-first of February?
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