jibon maraner seemana charaye...

Jibon maraner seemana charaye
Bondhu he aamar, royecho daraye…
E mor hridoyer bijon aakashe
Tomar mohashon alote Dhaka se,
Gobhiro ki aashay nibiro pulake
Taharo pane chay dubahu baraye…

Nirob nishi tobo
Charan nichaye,
Aadharo keshobhar
Diyechhe bichaye…

Aaji e kon gaan nikhil plabiya
Tomar bina hote aashilo namiya
Bhubano mie jay surero ranane,
Gaanero bedinay jay je haraye…


The last post made in my blog made me realize how enriching an experience it is to actually travel back through time and reflect on life…

As I had already mentioned, the lives of many a man in Bengal have flown through the years just by holding on to the little finger of the man called Rabindranath Tagore… The image in my mind of the wondrous bearded old man has always been like that of a grandfather… Someone who even if shy of all his wisdom and intellectualism, is a man with incomparable compassion towards society, towards human life and in a selfish kind of way, towards me… and I can retreat to him at any time I want, to share my joys, sorrows or even my realizations by uttering a few words… a few very deep yet beautiful words, poems about the unending joys of human emotion…

I say ‘joys’ of human emotion… But often you will find in his work as well as in our lives, happiness is a fleeting emotion… I mean how many of us have felt atleast once in our lives that happiness is overstated… I mean what exactly is it to feel really happy… If you know what I mean, fleeting instances of irrational exuberance are almost immediately followed by moments of tremendous gloom…

Here we strike upon the truth… maybe dark truth for some or simply truth for the rest of us… sadness is an emotion than can be felt… the dark mysterious moments of enormous solitude, of unenduring pain… yes we can all feel it cant we??? Often it makes one sad to feel unhappy, however I have often realized that in those intense spells of infinite gloom, one realizes oneself… It makes one feel alive… alive and happy to be able to feel such strong emotion, happy at the thought that there exists something so infinitely marvelous that it can make one feel so bad… I mean often our realizations of passion come from the unfulfilled want and yearning for it… It drives you mad… Someday when you look back at it, am sure you would consider it fortunate that amongst the vast spells of indifference towards society, life and even yourself, there are these spurts of exceptional darkness and depth of feeling where you feel life… what you want and where you realize who you are…

So, as I was saying the lives of many a Bengali passes holding on to the support called Tagore… The last time I posted on my blog I realized that there are a few striking memories associated with some of my most favourite songs… some of the intense spells of bitter realizations, yet gratifying to be able to see… The hallmark of a good poem is is subjectivity and easy adaptability into the life of the reader… Somehow everytime I have associated my feelings with a song of his, I have hit upon a meaning… a new meaning… but a meaning that cannot be but the truth in the context of my life…

So let me tell you a few memories associated with this song…

Even now, as always, listening to the song sung by Debabrata Biswas, in the sombre melancholy of his voice I always think of death…

The first time I was posed with the thought of dying, I was horrified… I mean, all of us in some level of our layered consciousness severely repel the thought of dying… Some of us say, “I will not be aware when I am gone,”…. Yet others say, “ As long as I do not see a near one die” and yet others cling on so hard to the thought of reincarnation and supernatural power, that they reject even a conversation about death…

I am one of the underprivileged… My hopes in all these has suffered indignity at the hands of my logic… The first time I tried to think rationally was when I was on my terrace while watching a lifeless body… It hit me… It took me 4 years to come to any terms with it, and even the logic of life and the beauty it brings is not always strong enough to withstand the enormous pain of imagining a lack of consciousness…

I had sung the song then… I do not know towards whom…

The next incident was when I was asked to sing the song for a friend… this lady was 65 years old and a relative… yet she was my friend and often I have exchanged many a happy banter with her… This was towards her on her memorial service… My grandmom had often chided me with the lack of feeling in my voice… Though on that day I believe it was different… I had sung the song for a friend… I knew in a certain way what I meant…

Moving on to a few pleasant thoughts for the starved few out there… Presidency College, Kolkata had a very intellectual, pseudo-intellectual atmosphere… people could talk about anything… From Karl Marx, to Leibnitz to Newton to girls puffing on cigarettes and exchanging intellectually stimulating adult tapes…

Well all of us had our traits… mine was singing to an audience of friends, who though loved Tagore from the whole of their hearts obviously had nothing better to do at that specific instance of time…

Well it was an evening in college when ‘Milieu’ our cultural, and neo-cultural fest was being hosted… I had desperately wanted to impress a girl with my intellectual abilities by singing something deep… Yes, I had chosen the very song… It was quite unfortunate when after opening my eyes, I found to my heartache that only a few of my guy friends had remained, while the rest including her had vanished without trace…

It was much later though that I had sung the song for her… when I could actually relate towards her, and what I was singing… I guess there are very few people in life who know me, the way I would like to be known… I am indeed fortunate to have one such person… It often takes people their lifetimes in search of that someone… I know that through time we will continue…

And yes I have often sung the song for my grandmother… after she was gone… I don’t know whether I was really close to her then… However I know that I am much closer to her now, with the qualities I gained from her then… And yes her ‘gitabitan’ (book of songs) belongs to me, now…

With these experiences I have wanted to establish one thing… It is often not about the memories… If you think about it enough you will begin to realize that everything is ultimately in your head… Along with these memories, we grow… the framework changes and we begin to look at life in a new way...

Often the song is meant as a song towards ‘God’… Although an agnostic I too have a God… It is not wrong to hold on to something for peace… However I often feel that the finding ourselves and getting closer to our passions, our identities is the real true friend… The fact that we can consciously see and perceive and understand and realize… That is about being alive… being human…

To end I will follow up with my translation of the song without which the blog does not have a meaning…



Jibon maraner…




Across the boundaries of life and death, my friend
you are waiting…
In the solitary confinement of my limitless heart,
Your throne is covered in light
With endless hope and deep joy
I stand staring with outstretched hands…

The dense dark night
With her outstretched feet
Has brought upon the darkness
Like flowing ebony hair…

What is this song flooding all eternity
Flowing down from your melodious instrument?
Making heaven and earth meet in a war of music,
But getting lost in the ensuing melancholy sadness…