My morning thoughts on the tests of friendship

অভিসার

Pagla Saheber Kobor by Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay

শীর্ষেন্দু মুখপাধ্যায়ের লেখা পাগলা সাহেবের কবর বইটি আমার কেন ভালো লেগেছিলো তার একটু আলোচনা 

দেবী- হুমায়ূন আহমেদ/ Devi by Humayun Ahmed

"যখন মানুষের খুব প্রিয় কেউ তাকে অপছন্দ, অবহেলা কিংবা ঘৃণা করে তখন প্রথম প্রথম মানুষ খুব কষ্ট পায় এবং চায় যে সব ঠিক হয়ে যাক । কিছুদিন পর সে সেই প্রিয় ব্যক্তিকে ছাড়া থাকতে শিখে যায়। আর অনেকদিন পরে সে আগের চেয়েও অনেকবেশী খুশি থাকে যখন সে বুঝতে পারে যে কারো ভালবাসায় জীবনে অনেক কিছুই আসে যায় কিন্তু কারো অবহেলায় সত্যিই কিছু আসে যায় না।”

Hungry for Words

When I was a kid,
I used to learn words from a dictionary.
Five each day.

I trailed my tiny fingers through the black ink,
Relishing the consonant and vowels
As my tongue rolled around those invisible delicacies.

In love with a distinct sound so much
That I would say it over and over again.
Until I felt it was a part of me.
And I could conjure it when I was in trouble.
Like a good friend who always shows up
Even if you had a fight.

Sometimes, I would read to my dog.
He slept through most of it.

I will not lie
even though I could
If I tried really hard.
But
the biggest love of my life
Is this language I’m speaking in.

It calms the storms in my heart.
Connects me to people
who have their own stories to tell.
And I listen with every inch of my body.
Just like the voracious child I once was-
Hungry for words.

Looking for new ways to string sentences together.
Paragraphs that make me forget to exhale for a moment.
The depths of someone’s love, grief, or rage.
Fascinated by someone’s mind.
Thinking -‘Wish I could write like that!’
A certain kingship stronger than blood.
A love more enduring than any other love.

How to follow my blog

আমার নি:সঙ্গ নীল রুকস্যাক

This is one of my favorite poems by my father. It is about a blue rucksack that travels the world. But then there is more- in the end it says how humans are crueler than animals.

I traveled the world with those words, I imagined the red, blue, yellow, green prayer flags of Tawang monastery. I saw the eyes of a mother zebra, caught by a predator, imploring its child with silent screams to run away to safety. I see the room transform into a Sun temple of Peru with the narrative. It shall remain one of my favorite poems ever.

আমার নি:সঙ্গ নীল বাউন্ডুলে রুকস্যাক 

ভ্রমনে নিবেদিত প্রাণ। এই বুঝি লাফাবে পিঠে, 

মনে হয়, ঠেলা দিয়ে বাসাড়ে আমাকে

নিয়ে যাবে ভূপযর্টনে। বস্তুত প্রায়শই হাওয়া 

হয় সে, ইচ্ছেমত, ফিরেও আসে

অদ্ভুত সফর শেষে, ধূলোবালি মেখে। 

রুকস্যাককে ঝেড়েপুঁছে সাফসুতরো বানালে,

শোনায় সে শীঘ্রগামী বিবাগী কাহিনী

ভালোবাসে সে যেতে এমন মুলুকে

যেখানে যায় শুধু স্থিরমতি যাযাবর অপ্রচুর। 

কখনো সে চলে যায় মাছুপিছু , ইনকা সভ্যতার

হারানো শহর, ধ্বংস করেছিল যাকে লুটেরা

স্প্যানিশ। নীল রুকস্যাক কখনো যায় নাতিদূরে

তাওয়াং গূম্ফায় বা দেখে কঙ্গোর রক্তাত নদীতে,

কুমিরের গ্রাসে, মা জেব্রা পালাতে বলে স্তম্ভিত 

শিশুকে, চোখের ইশারায়, বোবা আর্তনাদে। 

মেকং নদীতে মাছেরা কেন পরিযায়ী হয়,

হরিণেরা নিশ্চিন্তে বেড়ায় তৃপ্ত সিংহিনীর পাশে,

প্রণয়াধিকার নিয়ে পশুর লড়াই - সবই দেখে

আমার নীল রুকস্যাক। তার কাহিনীর সাথে 

আমার ঘর বদলে যায় সবুজ বৃক্ষময় চাতালে,

ঝিঁঝিঁ ডাকে, বৃষ্টির মত বজ্র  ঝরে অবিরাম;

কখনো প্রাচীন মমি বা দিব্যমূর্তি নেমে আসে

প্রখর উজ্বল পাহাড়ী আলোতে, এই দীনহীন ঘরে। 

গভীর সবুজ উপত্যকা, পাহাড়, গ্লেসিয়ার ও নদী

জেগে উঠে ঘরে, কোকো পাতা ও পেরুর ডুমুরে

সূর্য মন্দিরে পরিবর্তিত  এ ঘর যায় ভরে। 

কখনো হাওয়ায় দোলে লাল, নীল, সবুজ, হলুদ

শান্তিকেতন; সোনালী, লাল ও সাদা গুম্ফার পথে

বুদ্ধ অভয় মুদ্রায় তাপিতকে বিলান শান্তিবারি। 

রুকস্যাকের গল্প শেষ হলে ঘর ফেরে স্বস্থানে। 

অলৌকিক নীল রুকস্যাক বলে, 'পশুরা প্রায়শই

মানুষ তবে নরপুঙ্গবের চেয়ে নিয়তই ভালো;

হত্যা অকারণে বা ধষর্ণ নেই তাদের শব্দকোষে,

মাদি ঝিঁঝিঁ বা সিংহিনী প্রণয়াধিকার ঠিক করে, 

সুভোজ্যেও খায় না ভরপেট শিকারী শ্বাপদ।'

I made an attempt to translate it into English:

My solitary blue vagrant rucksack

Is dedicated to traveling.

It jumps to my back

Pushes the couch potato in me

and transforms me into a global wanderer.

Sometimes, it vanishes on its own

Then returns when it wants

After the end of a myriad of adventures

Dusty and tired

I clean it up
While it narrates to me
Fervent fugitive stories.
It loves to visit countries
where amicable Nomads reside.

Sometimes, it visits Machu Picchu , 

The lost city of the Incas

Before it was plundered
By the Spanish conquistadors

Sometimes, it goes to Tawang monastery

Or visits the bloody river of Congo

Where caught in the grip of a crocodile,

A mother zebra implores her shocked cub 

To escape with silent screams.

Why the fish in the Mekong river migrate,

How a doe grazes fearlessly in the Savannah
Beside a satisfied lioness,

The fight for the right to love-

My blue rucksack witnesses it all.

With every story,
My home turns into a verdant woodland

Where crickets chirp

Thunders come down with the rain, incessantly

Sometimes,  an ancient mummy or a deity ascends

With the glow of supernatural light

In my humble abode.

Deep green valleys, mountains, glaciers, and rivers

Wake up in my room

Fill it with cocoa leaves and Peruvian figs

As it transfigures into a Sun temple.

The wind blows the red, blue, yellow, and green prayer flags

In the red, golden, and white path to the cave
Where Buddha postures peace to the tired traveller.

The stories end and my home returns to its original state

My other worldly rucksack says

' Animals often behave like humans

but they are better in most regards

They don't murder, rape, or maim without reason

The female cricket or the lioness has the right to choose her mate

And a predator doesn't attack if it is not hungry.

Satyamev Jayate (video response)

Transcript:
I know there will be a lot of cynics out there who will doubt the intent– of both the creators and the host – of the show,’Satyamev Jayate’. But let us not focus on the froth (presentation), but on the essence (content) of the show.

A lot of movie stars get paid in crores per episode for judging Reality talent shows, there is no harm in that. But when a film star appears in a show with relevant social issues, we feel uncomfortable. Some bloggers have even used the term, ’social pornography’ for daring to share the stories of women who have fought against social prejudice and injustice to survive and protect their girl child. Of course, we feel disgusted. The moment when we heard about the mother-in-law, who kicked the baby cot with her granddaughter in it, we wanted to close our eyes and shut our ears to the horrors that our imagination can't even fathom. But someone had lived through it; someone who felt that she should have empowered herself before and that could have saved her. It is not that educated women are not victimized. According to the surveys cited in the episode, fetal gender determination and consequent female feticides are more rampant in urban, educated homes.

The issue is nothing novel, we have been reading about these atrocities in newspapers since we were kids. But it is not every day a show makes an attempt and it trends in everyday conversations. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. I am looking forward to the next episode, and though I can’t change your perception about a show or its host, I can implore you to judge it for the message it is trying to convey, and not for the conveyor. And I hope that the truth shall prevail.

Twitter trends on May 6,2012 . India vs San Francisco

The show site: Link

Woh Shaam Kuch Ajeeb Thi

If you have known me long enough, chances are that you have already heard me sing this one. One of my old favorites from the 1969 b/w classic Hindi movie Khamoshi.

You can find the Bengali song Bhindeshi tara here

The Ground Floor

Couple of days ago I saw a story  (watch video) on CBS 5 news where children go to school unplugged. The first graders shuck corn and build a garden, while fourth graders explore the philosophy behind Celtic knot drawing. Personally, I feel that you can not protect something you feel disconnected from, so the first lesson in every school should not be just A-B-C or 1-2-3 but also the bond we share with our environment.

I was reminded of a conversation with my mother-in-law where she lamented that technology has made us lose touch with nature. She opined that youth today are so engrossed in their iPods, their music and their world that they forget the world around them. They miss out the chirping of a bird or the beauty of a day. I remembered the first day I stopped paying attention to people- the day I got excited about having Internet in our home for the first time. She had a point there.

I agree that technology can be put to good use- to gather information, to dissipate new ideas, like this Google ad asserts:



But I too, like many others, spend most of the day making love to my laptop. Of course, some of my best friends are the ones I video-chat with over Internet because they live far away, and I miss having face time with them.

A song from arguably the first Bengali rock band - Moheener Ghoraguli(est 1975) plays in my mind:

পৃথিবীটা নাকি ছোট হতে হতে

Satellite আর Cable-এর হাতে

Drawing Room এ রাখা বোকা বাক্স তে বন্দী

...

ভেবে দেখেছ কি ?

তারা রাও যত আলোকবর্ষ দূরে

তার ও দূরে

তুমি আর আমি যাই ক্রমে সরে সরে

(Has the world shrunk and been held captive by satellite and cable in the drawing room idiot box? Have you thought about it? Slowly, we drift apart from each other further light-years than the stars.)

I also understand the importance of isolation for creators- how crucial it is to incubate ideas and live in your own world for days till you complete the composition.


Most days, I choose to get out from my third floor apartment, get into the elevator only a few steps away, and switch on the ‘P’ for Parking Garage; blissfully ignoring the ‘G’ for ground floor. And of course, my destination is air-conditioned and so is my mode of transport. On days that I am feeling extremely adventurous, I go out for a walk in the park in front of my house. I marvel at the vignette of the mountains drenched in fading red rays of a setting sun and take pleasure in watching several activities: owners bring out their pets to play, new mothers take out their babies in strollers, visiting parents or families walk together sluggishly, a few men and women play soccer, and a determined, athletic person does his daily rounds of jogging.

I watch them while I sit on a bench or stretch –depending on the time of the evening. Then I go to the gym, promise myself to go to park more often, and forget all about it afterwards. Technology is a beautiful thing. It has done wonders to the way we communicate. But like our daily requirements of dietary fiber, we need our basic daily dose of ground floor trips where we step out of our comfortable corners and walk on the face of the earth, albeit on a paved footpath. Weather permitting.

IMI Kritva 2006 video

Thanks to Saiki, I got the video again. The accompanying story is here.

PaintJAM

Watch it till the end and maybe, like me, you too will marvel at what a change of perspective can do.