Barrister K. Z. Alam on the right, son Arif Alam on the left, and the writer in the middle (February 1982).

IT'S hard to believe that it has been a year that my friend K.Z. Alam, our friend Shelly, left us for eternity (September 13, 2008). On that day, many of us like me lost our dearest friend.
We came together at the Dhaka College in 1949, and continued together through our university days (1951-56). Our friendship endured the test of time -- whether at home or abroad. The binding force and factor behind keeping a small group of us together was Alauddin -- Mir Mohammed Alauddin, who literally saw him off to the other world, sitting by him when he breathed his last. It was my great misfortune that I was out of the country at the time.
Shelly grew up through many struggles and sufferings. But he was a born fighter, a born rebel, and associated himself with all left leaning student movements. The guiding forces behind all his activities, whether as a student, a growing professional, a family member, a friend, and a common citizen, were justice and fairness. He demonstrated courage to face the world at a young age, and never retreated.
His decision to become a lawyer was a natural culmination of all these traits of his character. He left for England in 1956 leaving behind his wife Ranu, who joined him after giving birth to their first child -- daughter Shipra. Shelly returned home in 1964 with his sweet young son Aru, and with a broken heart, soon after losing his lovely wife Ranu in London. But he never gave up. Those were the days when he came out at his best as a father -- caring for his son round the clock -- but also getting into the mainstream of legal profession at the then East Pakistan High Court. His debut in the field was through the Lam & Lam, a law firm started with Barrister Amirul Islam.
Shelly demonstrated his spirit, courage and the promise of turning into a hard working top class lawyer during the Agartala case against Bangabandhu and his associates. He was the one who took the initiative to bring a distinguished British lawyer to defend Bangabandhu, working with late A. Salam Khan, leader of the defending team. Nothing drove him those days other than his love and admiration for Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. For his bold and selfless devotion for the Agartala case, Barrister K.Z. Alam was incarcerated by the Pakistan army in 1971, and came out alive from the Dhaka Cantonment literally by the skin of his teeth. In the meantime he got married to Nurjahan, and they had a lovely young son -- Biru sometime thereafter.
K.Z. Alam was appointed Asstt. Attorney General/Deputy Attorney General by the new government of Bangladesh, working closely with late Barrister Syed Ishtiaq Ahmed, the Additional Attorney General, and Fakir Shahabuddin -- the first Attorney General of Bangladesh.
After the gruesome tragedy of August 1975, Shelly gave up his positions, and soon thereafter defended Col. Taher in the case, which was conducted not in public, but inside the Dhaka Central Jail. After that he returned to his profession.
Shelly was a man who would take any risk out of conviction. Human greed and avarice never touched him. But he liked to enjoy life -- with his family, with friends, with professional colleagues, and wherever he was, he was the life of the party, bringing out his British style of speaking and joking -- enthralling the entire group. I probably had more opportunities than any of our other friends to enjoy his company (except perhaps Alauddin), as we lived almost next to each other, within a few minutes walking distance, for long eighteen years.
Though a lawyer of top caliber and ability, he did not take up many cases -- unlike most of his other colleagues. He was extremely selective in taking up cases -- and would refuse many cases if he saw no merit in them. He spent many days in the courts helping friends and friends' friends, going out of his way, without any fees or consideration. He once told me that until the early years of this millennium, he lost no case, which he took up. The one that he lost was refusal of bail to his client by the court.
Shelly lived a simple life, but was a person of high taste and style. His sartorial elegance did not escape the notice of his colleagues and friends. Behind his lively exterior, he lived with many inner conflicts -- arising from the prevailing political environment, the state of the judiciary, and family matters, sharing his agonies with very few close friends. Alauddin and I were privy to some of these. It was not inconsistent with his character that he politely turned down offers of high office with due respects to the authorities.
Eventually, from the middle of the '90s K.Z. Alam turned into a deeply religious man, changing the way of life, but never giving up the sense of humour and enjoyment of the company of close friends and colleagues. At some point he took up business (RMG), which initially was almost a failure. But he worked hard, and with strong support from his wife Nurjahan, turned it around, returned to solvency and creation of assets. Though he never said this, I had always the feeling that he did it for the sake of his children, to leave behind something for them.
Towards the end of his life he was deeply depressed, though trying to avoid the impression, when it was detected that he had lung cancer -- an inevitable consequence of his heavy smoking for decades, and later on chewing tobacco when he gave up smoking. When he knew that he had only months, weeks or days left, he prepared a document indicating extremely fair allocation of his assets between the members of his family, including his stepdaughter Irri. We shall never see the likes of him again.

M. Syeduzzaman is a former Finance Minister.