Two translations and a few words.... :P

A translation

You’re the one who my heart wishes for
Other than you, in my life, I have no one else, nothing else!

If you are unable to find happiness, go search for it
For, I have found you all over my heart, and I want nothing else.

I’ll remain immersed in my longing, waiting for you
I’ll reside within you
For prolonged days, nights, months and years!

If you love someone else, if you do not come back
I wish you get all you want, and let me be the one who begets all the pain.


Another translation

The windy breeze of the night has extinguished my lamp.
After slowly coming to me, oh my lover, please don’t depart from me again…..

When you go along this path amidst the darkness,
You will recognize the fragrance of the rajnigandha which have just shed beside the temple.
After slowly coming to me, oh my lover, please don’t depart from me again…..

When will you remember me, my lover?
Waiting for that moment, I remain awake in segments of the night, singing along.

I apprehend; what if I fall into slumber towards the end of the night?
What if my song perishes in my exhausted voice?
After slowly coming to me, oh my lover, please don’t depart from me again…..


Longing for the lover, waiting for his/her coming back or viraha seems to be quite a significant part of all great love stories. The above two songs of Tagore talks about love, and the sense of languishment in love so profoundly!
And quite predictably, a female embodies that sense of longing everywhere, rather than the male. As I had understood from my shallow knowledge derived from the word-of-mouth stories of Radha and Krishna, Shree Radha depicts that sense of longing for Krishna. Viraha (languishment for the lover) of course comes before Milan (Mating), and hence the duo is always pronounced as “Radha-Krishna” and not “Krishna-Radha”. Similarly, “Sita-Ram”, “Heer-Ranjha”, “Laila-Majnu”. The entire life of Meera-Bai was a longing, which was never to be quenched.
Of course, in some love stories, the male predominantly craves more for the female than the way the female does for the male. This may be the reason why Romeo comes first in his love story. Or take Devdas for the example of an obsessed lover. The love of Devdas for Paro has so much overshadowed the love on part of Paro!
I don’t know whether I will call someone like Devdas a famous lover or an infamous lover. For, most of my contemporary males laugh at him, or curse him for not being practical! Does there exist too much difference in the yearning of Devdas for Paro and that of Shree Radha for Krishna?
Females do seem more ridden with emotions, particularly so where the nostalgia of love is concerned. History also has given females more opportunities of longing than of mating. Great rulers and many brave men from history used to possess more than one wives. Of course, such great men did possess tremendous love for each one of them (it can be assumed), and each relation was a successful one, considering each to be unique and independent. But why is no female (or very very few females, to be on the safer side because of my shallow knowledge, again) in history cited to own more than one husbands? Are such females glorified at all by history? Or is it like “His” story, written by “him”, so “She” is not to be glorified anyways? (Ya, I admit, at times I do sound a feminist!)
Traits like viraha are portrayed to be a cowardly action on part of males. But interestingly, Shree Ramchandra, the great avatar of the Hindus and the ideal man of all times (Maryada Purushottam), was in fact, found immersed in viraha when Sita was abducted by Ravana. (Again, several interpretations of Ramayana exists, and I remind you all of the shallowness of my knowledge). Common sense tells me that he was a loving husband, and it was out of his love for Sita, and his deep pining for his wife, that Ramchandra took all the pains to go to a far off land and defeat the tyrant to bring his love back to him.
But there again exists some inexplicable vagueness about the climax of such great love stories. Krishna left for Mathura, and Sita was forced to go to Pataalpuri! Do these not seem idiosyncrasies on part of such great lovers? When the love for a woman came into conflict with establishing other great traits like courage or lawfulness or ruling people, great men chose the latter. Perhaps men don’t know how to persist with the profoundness of love for a woman for the entire life, while women are left with no other option but to symbolize only a nostalgic yearning!
But there is no doubt about the fact that at some point of time, all people in love feel this sense of desirous longing for the company of their lovers! The not-so-normal states of minds of so many people in viraha have given birth to so many great poems, songs, prose, paintings and God knows how many different art forms! Call all of them lunatics, call them absent-minded, call them crazy! Yet they personalize some of the strongest emotions that are so unique to the limbic of the humans! They are the people in love!
Reasonings like other wives of Krishna are but the manifestations or expansions of the first lover Radha, are something I am not yet able to physically imagine or appreciate at this stage. But with what has happened with me personally till now, all I can say is that,
Viraha cannot be ignored, and so can’t be the indelible imprint of Radha as a sign of deep love over the hearts of millions, across all the barriers of time and space.

The forest fire

I so wished to join Abhisekh in his trip to Calcutta! I badly wanted to go to Dakshineshwar and Belur Math with him! But nature has its own ways of making up for a loss as well. While it did not allow me to spend a lovely evening sitting beside the Bhagirathi-Hooghly in the serenity of the Math enjoying the fragrance of the special agarbatti found only in Belur and nowhere else on earth (Abhisekh thinks that agarbatti can be polluting as well, and he actually had a cough because of the smell! God! he is so susceptible!), nature balanced itself by presenting to me an eye-capturing illustration! That of a forest fire! It was there for me to witness, and only me!
I had always asked people in IITBombay why at some point of time in the year the Sameer Hill becomes absolutely carbon-black. But all used to say that someone might have lit up dried leaves and branches. Today I could know who it was.
My Prof’s room gives a scenic view of the Sameer Hill. The window is strategically located I must say. It cuts away the unnecessary concrete edifices, which would have otherwise engulfed the view, and allows only the garnishing of the hill by the trees from sides to be seen. I had to take a supplementary test of fluid mechanics for a BTech guy, who missed the earlier scheduled test. It so happens that I love everything about IITBombay somehow. No wonder it pulled me back within 3 months of leaving it. “Jhank-er koi jhank-e firechhe” as my mother puts it (the lone fish has found and gone back to her people and place!).
The test started in the afternoon. I looked outside, and started thinking (or ‘day-dreaming about nothing’ as a more sensible person might describe). With thoughts of long-forgotten songs or long-cherished special moments thronging my mind, the Sameer Hill outside the window served as the out-of-focus yet visible backdrop. A little portion on the top of the hill was black. I started reading a bit, and yet again immersed myself in my day-dreaming. As if I am missing something, or someone. After 10 mins, I could get back into my consciousness! What the hell! What am I doing? I have developed all signs of an idle mind! Is there anything by which I can stop it from being a devil’s workshop?
Thoughts start coming back to the present moment and the focus returns to the not so visible backdrop- the Sameer Hill. Is that some kind of smoke I see? Is it that someone has actually lit up the dried leaves and branches? That too, in simultaneous places? Holy spirit! Half of the hill is now black within 10 minutes! How is it ever possible for someone to stimulate such a large scale fire in such a short time?
Within few moments, I could make out it is forest fire! I could see the orange flames going desperate by the windy breezes. One portion of the hill catches fire, scorches, emit fumes as the burning gets completed, while the fire moves on searching for its next victim, the neighboring portion! Wildness expressed in its most crude form!
I could see a flock of black birds! Why are there so many birds in the middle of the fire and smoke? Is it that they will readily get dead worms and insects for a lunch, without too much effort?
O hello! This is a forest fire! Is anyone even watching? Shall I run to Sameer Hill right now? Why don’t I have a binocular? (interestingly, I wished for a binocular, and not a camera!!)
Out of excitement, I told the Btech student, “Have you ever seen a forest fire?” Well, a venturimeter and a forest fire do not go quite hand in hand really! He gave me a glare! I knew I disturbed him! “No”, and he went back into solving the paper!
I have never seen something like this! I muttered to myself! This is not a beautiful picture, not a soothing one either. Not something to be proud of. Certainly not a mesmerizing experience! But I was so overwhelmed! Something that is there for the first time! Something that I had never ever witnessed before! It was a magic! And I saw it through the window, and not in the Discovery or National Geographic channel!
And it was there for me. Only for me! In a very ordinary October afternoon, when the entire IIT was busy doing academic activities, eating or sleeping, or escaping from the scorching sunlight, I was presented an excitement! An urge to just look at my window and not do or think anything else for 30 minutes! My window to the wild!

Tuesdays with Morrie

It’s amazing how a small book, written by someone whom you had never heard of before, someone belonging to a different country and a different culture altogether, about someone who is a very ordinary human being with ordinary aspirations and a simple way of living life, can make you feel you are born again the next morning. The city was the same while I travelled to office, on yet another unmotivated Monday, by an auto-rickshaw, sitting beside the driver, so typical of Kolkata. It was a cloudy morning, with two of my co-passengers in the back-seat dozing off, surrendering themselves to the gloom of the air around. (Monday morning witnessing office-going people doze off, now you know why I call such mornings unmotivated!) Prolonged traffic jams, child beggars trying to rekindle the inherent human kindness in you (while you actually feel continuously bugged instead), newspapers heralding the highly probable exit of automobile giant Tata Motors from the state, because of a badly played game of politics, my client calling me up too frequently over the cell-phone, desperate in his attempts to bargain for a reduction in the in-voice while I am obliged not to insult him back for his irrational and indignant arguments, and an earlier almost stagnant queue for auto-rickshaws- the morning had nothing exceptional. Yet, I felt on top of the world. I could feel the fragrance of the season’s first chhatim flowers, though they hadn’t yet blossomed! I looked at the sky, overwhelmed by its expanse and color, like I had not done in a long time! I observed people who were passing by, and tried to remember their faces even if they were complete strangers! How I was mesmerized by the beauty of the day! The beauty of life!
For, it was only the day before that I finished reading the book entitled “Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Albom. Don’t expect any more vignettes please, as I have already invoked enough curiosity in you, which you will satisfy on your own. My job is done. Now you go and read the book, while I re-live that Monday morning, which apparently seemed unmotivated, yet provided me with the impetus to shirk away all that was negative, all that I feared, and to replenish myself with a reverberating upbeat vibration, that will see me through my life!
So there was I, travelling in the auto-rickshaw, almost providing the driver a free hug, to ensure that I don’t fall off (I actually feel this is a very philanthropic idea of the auto-rickshaw union of Kolkata to allow passengers to sit beside the driver, for, it has all the gestures which indicate increased brotherhood between the passenger and the driver). (And oh! How I feel tempted to add a smiley to the last sentence that I wrote in brackets, but sadly enough, cyber-lingo is yet to be recognized for its glory in literature!)
I had always noticed a striking difference between the attitude of auto-rickshaw drivers in Mumbai (where I was earlier staying), and those of Kolkata. In general, there is a rather obvious disparity between the outlooks towards life of the people of these two cities. But let me not sound vague, and come to the point as to why I am talking about rickshaw drivers. In Mumbai, I had never seen passengers queuing up for rickshaws. It had always been the other way round.
While in Kolkata, there had been an abundance of occasions where I noticed at least twenty people (including myself, of course, else I wouldn’t have bothered!) waiting for the rickshaw, while two to three rickshaw-drivers sitting inside their rickshaws a little further away, doing literally nothing, amidst the fussy office-going hours of the morning. It was evident that they were coming for business to start off the day, they were not doing any mechanical servicing of their rickshaws, neither having breakfast, not even taking a break for urinating! Yet they just sat doing nothing, watching the queue grow. What might be the reason that they are not moving their rickshaws while they can clearly see the plight of the office-goers who are getting late? Why are they so much lackadaisical towards their job? Why is taking rest the first thing they do in the morning? Why do they lack an earnestness for what earns them their livelihood? I fail to understand the rationale! I try to observe them to find a reason. They are not even talking to other fellow drivers! They are simply doing nothing!
I quit on trying comprehending their schema. There’s no point, I decide. I do that, because that is what is easy. I do what I am best at, shutting myself up, away from the world around me by putting on my headphones and listening to music.
And then, to my utter irritation I find that, when most of us in the queue had given up, sweated to falling drops from forehead, or a bus about to come to sweep away all the waiting people, the considerate driver finally moves his vehicle to pick us up in front of the queue. It seems his desire for people feeling dependent on him for his favor has been quenched at last!
I see this every two days. This ignoble act of disrespect towards one’s own profession at the rickshaw stand! Yet I prefer floating my body into the ocean of inactivity, as does everyone else. A few of us standing in the queue don’t hesitate to abuse the drivers for being lazy, but we, ourselves are even more lazy to walk a few meters to ask them why they are behaving in such a manner, which would seem very weird, if not unimaginable at a rickshaw stand in Mumbai. Had these drivers been fighting for their bread in Mumbai, they will know what struggle for existence means! Ignorance is the root of all sins- I mutter to myself as my ego establishes itself as a gyan-guru, deriving theorems to evaluate others’ behaviors.
This was all. This was all I could conclude, until it was the next day of my finishing “Tuesdays with Morrie”. Monday morning, I find the vehicle quickly. Thanks to mother, I started early. I grasp the opportunity and show my brotherhood towards the driver by sitting beside him, while he makes his way through the crammed city roads.
Should I speak to the person next to me? I ask myself. Would I ask him what might be the reason some rickshaw drivers behave in such an objectionable manner? Does he himself do that ever? Does the distress of the passengers caused by them make any difference in their lives? Should I take a survey by talking with different rickshaw-drivers everyday, and then let the union or the authority answer why there exists a woeful situation when there is absolutely no logic behind it?
I think. And I also think that I am after all an ordinary and selfish person, and not a social worker. I have got other things to do in life, like handling clients, mugging up words for my GRE, answering my peers, and doing music and dreaming about reality shows when I had some free time. Why do I need to take any additional pressure and hamper the creative thinking of my brain at all? I was happy doing what I was doing. I was exploring the world anyways!
Moreover, didn’t I know what being a social worker leads to? Didn’t I read newspapers? Didn’t I believe that the only fate a male social worker could have was facing legal trials, and the only fate a female social worker could have was being raped? Oh yes, I am not courageous. But at least I am also not a fool, to destroy my life, and my dignity in society!
But I had read “Tuesdays with Morrie” the night before!
So I had to speak.“Do you feel discomfort talking while driving??” I ask the driver, all on a sudden.
“What?” he asks. Evidently, he is surprised. So is everyone else in that vehicle. He is a middle aged man, with 2-3days of growing white beard, wearing a shabby T-shirt. It was astonishing! I had never looked at the face of any rickshaw driver ever in the last one year, while I travelled by rickshaw daily! I didn’t recognize anyone of them! Did they also notice who is entering and leaving their vehicles?
“Sometimes I feel a little disturbed while talking and driving simultaneously, especially today, my brake is not working properly”, he said, “but why, Madame?”
“No, it’s ok, if you cannot talk now. I actually wanted to talk to you!” came out of my mouth, so involuntarily! “Tuesdays with Morrie” was already doing its job!
“You can talk with me, Madame”, said he, “what is it?”
“I actually wanted to know something. I have observed over the past one year, that during very busy office hours, some rickshaw drivers just don’t move, and enjoy the quandary of the sweating passengers standing in the queue” I tell him. He laughed. And so did my co-passengers.
“What do you think might be the psychology behind them, Sir? Have you done that ever yourself?” I find myself resilient and straight-forward. I was never like this. “Do you think they enjoy that people are looking forward to their favor?”
“No Madame. There might be many reasons behind that.”
“That is the reason, what else? Their nature is like that only!” insinuated a co-passenger. One of the two who were trying to have a nap. Our conversation had awakened both of them! For, he had got a free chance to curse the rickshaw-drivers, without himself having to take the pains to commence the topic! It seemed funny to me! But it was ok. I would have also done that if I were in his position, had I not read “Tuesdays with Morrie”.
But it was also important for me to let the driver speak. Because, being a passenger myself, I was aware of the point of view of the passengers anyways. I needed to erase off my ignorance, by looking at the situation from the drivers’ perspective.
“What can be the reasons, Sir? Would you please tell me?” I ask. I was more polite than ever before!
“See, different people drive rickshaws. Some drive and own, while others pay a rent of the vehicle to the owner. While some are bachelors, some have the burden of raising a family! Also, it is important for us to take rest, as we don’t have holidays! If I am not at my ancestral home at Midnapore, I drive 365 days a year. Even when it is a strike, we have to come for the duty. Every morning I need to supply my family with food!”
Things start becoming clearer to me. Time for me to think. I can imagine myself working for the entire year, without any holidays. Will I not doze off even on Monday mornings? My co-passengers were dozing off even after having the day before as a holiday! I felt ashamed!
“Those who are not raising a family, can afford to take rest, can’t they, Madame?” the driver speaks again! I feel ashamed again. I am continuously addressing him as “a driver” only!
“What is your name, Sir?” I ask.
“Sushanta Jana”, he replies, “See Madame, I know that some of us do not behave properly with the passengers, while we must understand that it is our profession which earns bread for us. Everyone have their own way of life and living. However, I admit that sometimes it might seem wrong. For example, if I need to take rest, I do that at my home, not keeping passengers waiting for me.”
“Very good. You are being true to your profession”, I suddenly felt proud of the humble rickshaw driver. Sushanta had more insight to problems in life than all others travelling in that rickshaw at that point of time.
“You have your family in Midnapore?” I ask. We were becoming friends. It just needs a few words, and a little care. People has so much to say!
“No, they stay here with me. But my parents are there. I have two daughters. I will go and pick them up from home and drop them school, after I drop you all to Gariahat. I can’t take rest, Madame. I need to pay two hundred rupees to the owner of the rickshaw everyday.”
“And your wife?” I ask.
“She does some stitching works sometimes. Nothing is regular. I have to pay the rent of the house that we stay. Provide for the expenses of my daughters’ studies.”
And later on you will have to provide for the expenses of their marriage as well- I told, but silently and to myself only. I could understand. Poverty is plentiful in India, and hence can be easily and closely related to.
We talked a little more, when suddenly I realized, it was time for me to get down. My destination had come. The perspective I wished to study, had been incorporated into me already.
“Take my fare, Sushanta Babu. I will get down here. I felt really nice talking to you. I am sure we will meet again!”
There was a grin in his face. I smiled as well, and bid him goodbye.
I placed my back-sac in its position, crossed the road and started walking towards my office.
I am not sure whether I will chase my mission of interviewing other rickshaw-drivers, and make it a point that the authority/union addresses the problems faced by passengers. May be I wont be able to be a social worker ever in my life. But is that necessary anyhow? Understanding each other can address all grudges, I realized. I knew at least that I would never complain again about waiting in the sun for a rickshaw at the stand while coming to office.
As I entered my workplace, a broad smile had enlightened my face. It was there to stay.

tumi

bhorer ghum tokhono lege chhilo chokh-e....
r tomar gondho-ta tokhono tomar kothai mone koriye dichhilo...
aami kano palate cheyechhilam tomay chhere?
tumi toh boloni tomar jogyo ami noi....
aamar chhaya-o je tomar jonno oshubho, emon bisshas aamar kano holo?
tomar atmiyo, tomar jaat, tomar somaj, eder niye sukhe theko.
gorbo koro.
tobe eta mone rekho....
tomar jaat-er i bhruno aamar modhye bere uth-chhe....

The beginning of end

so i am safe....
i saved myself.
trust me, i did.
i barred myself from it.
it was burning from inside, but i poured water onto it.
its frozen, and forever.
i have destroyed all that i built through my life.
all those who made me, me. i have killed them all.
so now let the insects and the vultures come
and pierce through my body.
let the last rites finish.
ya, you bet, i can act in any role you want me to...
and trust me, i will be good at it.

aami agontuk...aami barta dilam

they say...happiness cannot be a destination, it is the journey itself. so here i am, the happiest person on earth. what?? you dont believe me??
seems i will have to tell you a little more about myself...
right now, i am enjoying my stay @ IITB. i am, well..., let's say, fairly good at acads [:P], i watch a hell lot of movies and so many goodthings are available, thanks to LAN, and i do take part in some music activities which are just awesome here. etuku bolte pari, i had never taken music so seriously in life, the way i am taking it in out here.and i meet my boyfriend once in a month, and we have a gr8 timetogether, both fighting (which is mostly from my part) and loving(which is mostly from his part) [:P]. isnt it simply gr8 [:)] ?? imean, what else do u want from life?
and that makes me...god's favorite child..[:)]