Sometimes I wonder that I’m so lucky I was born Bengali. It’s not that feeling which comes to every person that makes him like his own language, his own culture, his own traditions… but it’s a more personal feeling. You may think that I’m being very ridiculous, but still I don’t fear to say that… one of the most significant reasons that I like being a bengali is that I can live, breathe, feel every breath of that genius, of that conscience inherent to each and every human being personified through this single man’s creation! Believe me, I’d be definitely not lying when I’m saying that … there’s hardly a human mood which does not associate to a particular creation of this unimaginable wonder of the world, Rabindranath Tagore.
You can argue that it’s always possible for any non-bengali to learn the language and start appreciating his creations, but here I’d like to say… yes, it’d be definitely possible, but still you wont be able to get the full flavour of it… as here comes the thing called ‘culture’. Until and unless you belong (yes, ‘belong’ and not ‘know’) to a certain culture, no matter how much imaginative, how much talented you are, but still some things will remain unknown, mysterious and maybe irrational to you. That is why I say that “I am a proud Bengali.”
‘Rabinda Jayanti : poncheeshe boisakh’… these few words bring me a lifetime of memories, which will always remain cherishable to me, almost like the field of daffodils of Wordsworth! For some years this day meant a whole lot to me… a month of days without evening study, a month full of enthusiasm to create a new play, a new recitation and a new bunch of songs.
I was hardly 10 then. Though I loved to churn out the melodious tunes of Gurudev (read: Rabindranath), still I couldn’t reach at the depth of these… and so for recitation. From my childhood I took pride in recitation and also in one-act plays. So much so, that I directed school plays in the celebration days of Teachers’ Day. And don’t worry, we did really well. Even some people who were considered so shy and callous, they surprised the whole lot by giving their best performance! I really dream those days…
As for Rabindra Jayanti, my father, who took part in serious dramas and plays in his younger days, directed the 15/20 of us. All the acts we did, all were from the book ‘Hasso-Koutuk’ (laughter-satire). Almost the whole book was acted out cumulatively in these few years of our performance... and we underwent the rehearsals so much intensely that after 10 years, yes, after 10 long years, I still remember most of the expressions corresponding to each sentence in those plays… and I’m not joking my dear! Give me the book, even right now, and I promise I’ll make you roll with laughter!
Among us however, Paltu-da and Jijo-da always got the bigger roles. Paltu-da was really a talent. With my father’s directed expressions, he always added his own and after the evening we literally had pains in our ribs by rolling and laughing and kicking!! Jijo-da used to do the serious type of roles and he handled them well. But Paltu-da obviously was more popular among us.
As for singing, Dipon-da and me used to lead the boys and Manta-di and Mom from the girls’ side. I loved singing… and singing Rabindrasangeet alone, since my childhood. I had later undergone some proper training in it and even performed in Rabindra Sadan. Till today when I come across/redisover a new touching song, I make sure that I can sing it. So naturally I enjoyed the stage performance. When I get up on the stage today to present my Powerpoint Presentations, I hardly falter in stage-sickness, thanks to these colourful years, which have completely freed me from all of the stage-tensions!
This year I performed (as a veteran) in the Rabindra Jayanti, which was non-functional for those 10 long years. When I got on the stage (pandal to be precise), built on the exact place where we had our happy times, I was struck with a sudden nostalgia… all those old images were fleeting through the canvas of my mind… but still I managed to recite, sorry not ‘recite’ but ‘read’, Gurudev’s ‘Proshno’ (meaning ‘Question’).
Looking at the excited faces of the other youngsters, I tried to discover myself among them… but sadly I saw the temparament has totally changed. Instead of enjoying the show, they were ‘competing’ with each other. There was no co-ordination, not even one congratulated each other… they were hardly 10 and most were even younger!
So I leave you the ‘Proshno’… will these children be able to extract the same feeling from these days when they go up? Will they ever recall these days with the passion I am right now? Will they ever be able to discover the inherent tremendous intensity of joy? Will they be ever realise : There’s no use winning a rat-race… because if you win, you still remain a rat!
Save them all Gurudev, shun thy sacred light of enlightenment on them… make them proper human beings, because one day these young children will be the future of Bengal, of India, of the World…
You can argue that it’s always possible for any non-bengali to learn the language and start appreciating his creations, but here I’d like to say… yes, it’d be definitely possible, but still you wont be able to get the full flavour of it… as here comes the thing called ‘culture’. Until and unless you belong (yes, ‘belong’ and not ‘know’) to a certain culture, no matter how much imaginative, how much talented you are, but still some things will remain unknown, mysterious and maybe irrational to you. That is why I say that “I am a proud Bengali.”
‘Rabinda Jayanti : poncheeshe boisakh’… these few words bring me a lifetime of memories, which will always remain cherishable to me, almost like the field of daffodils of Wordsworth! For some years this day meant a whole lot to me… a month of days without evening study, a month full of enthusiasm to create a new play, a new recitation and a new bunch of songs.
I was hardly 10 then. Though I loved to churn out the melodious tunes of Gurudev (read: Rabindranath), still I couldn’t reach at the depth of these… and so for recitation. From my childhood I took pride in recitation and also in one-act plays. So much so, that I directed school plays in the celebration days of Teachers’ Day. And don’t worry, we did really well. Even some people who were considered so shy and callous, they surprised the whole lot by giving their best performance! I really dream those days…
As for Rabindra Jayanti, my father, who took part in serious dramas and plays in his younger days, directed the 15/20 of us. All the acts we did, all were from the book ‘Hasso-Koutuk’ (laughter-satire). Almost the whole book was acted out cumulatively in these few years of our performance... and we underwent the rehearsals so much intensely that after 10 years, yes, after 10 long years, I still remember most of the expressions corresponding to each sentence in those plays… and I’m not joking my dear! Give me the book, even right now, and I promise I’ll make you roll with laughter!
Among us however, Paltu-da and Jijo-da always got the bigger roles. Paltu-da was really a talent. With my father’s directed expressions, he always added his own and after the evening we literally had pains in our ribs by rolling and laughing and kicking!! Jijo-da used to do the serious type of roles and he handled them well. But Paltu-da obviously was more popular among us.
As for singing, Dipon-da and me used to lead the boys and Manta-di and Mom from the girls’ side. I loved singing… and singing Rabindrasangeet alone, since my childhood. I had later undergone some proper training in it and even performed in Rabindra Sadan. Till today when I come across/redisover a new touching song, I make sure that I can sing it. So naturally I enjoyed the stage performance. When I get up on the stage today to present my Powerpoint Presentations, I hardly falter in stage-sickness, thanks to these colourful years, which have completely freed me from all of the stage-tensions!
This year I performed (as a veteran) in the Rabindra Jayanti, which was non-functional for those 10 long years. When I got on the stage (pandal to be precise), built on the exact place where we had our happy times, I was struck with a sudden nostalgia… all those old images were fleeting through the canvas of my mind… but still I managed to recite, sorry not ‘recite’ but ‘read’, Gurudev’s ‘Proshno’ (meaning ‘Question’).
Looking at the excited faces of the other youngsters, I tried to discover myself among them… but sadly I saw the temparament has totally changed. Instead of enjoying the show, they were ‘competing’ with each other. There was no co-ordination, not even one congratulated each other… they were hardly 10 and most were even younger!
So I leave you the ‘Proshno’… will these children be able to extract the same feeling from these days when they go up? Will they ever recall these days with the passion I am right now? Will they ever be able to discover the inherent tremendous intensity of joy? Will they be ever realise : There’s no use winning a rat-race… because if you win, you still remain a rat!
Save them all Gurudev, shun thy sacred light of enlightenment on them… make them proper human beings, because one day these young children will be the future of Bengal, of India, of the World…
2 comments:
u know what i've this nagging doubt in my mind!how many people do remember Gurudev truly apart from pochishe baishak and baishe srabon!
esomendhe amar kichu boktoobo nei :)
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