Wednesday, May 7, 2008

An article for the man!

Some 147 years back, the largest mansion at the Jora Shanko region of Kolkata,reverberated with a mixture of cries and spells of laughter. Little did the people know that it was the beginning of an era, the birth of someone whom an entire nation would revere as Gurudev and that Literature was never going to be the same again.

Born in the sophisticated Thakur family, Rabindranath already had the touch of creativity in him. With people like Dwijendranath Tagore and Maharshi Debendranath Tagore in the family, it was in the cards for him to be atleast well-known in Bengal.

He was primarily educated at home. In 1878 he was sent to England to become a barrister.However,he came back to Calcutta in 1880 leaving it unfinished.His experiences in England would later find influences in his lyrical ballads and poetry.

Tagore was essentially a poet. Thus,eventually,we find a glimpse of intricate detail in all of his works be it the short story Balai or his musical Vakmiki Protibha. In particular Tagore had a deep love and reverence for nature which he was able to express through lyrical poetry.

In 1877, he wrote Bhikarini Ma, which was the first Bengali short story.In the same year, composed several works, including a long poem following the patterns of Maithali as pioneered by Vidyapati. He maintained that these were the lost works of Bhānusiha, a newly discovered 17th-century Vaisnava poet.Tagore was best known for his poetry,novels,plays and songs. He wrote four novels and eight other novellas. It includes the famous Ghare Baire,which was later put on the Silver Screen by Satyajit Ray. But, it is Sesher Kobita that proves his skill as a novelist. It follows the patterns of poetry and lyrical passage. Choker Bali is another notable work.More than half of his short stories are contained in his three volume Golpoguccho,which still remains the most popular short-story complilation in the language.Stories such as Nastanihr,which was made into Charulata by Ray, and Haimanti deal with the complex of human emotions.At thee age of sixty,Tagore became immensely interested in draings ang paintings.What started out in cancel-out's in his poems and stories,found it's place in the Art Galleries.The Dancing Girl, an ink on paper piece, is a well known Tagore illustration.Having composed around 2250 songs.Rabindrasangeet is now as synonymous with the Bengali culture as the language is.Rabindrasangeet even inspired the style of the likes of Amjad Ali Kha and Buddhadeb Dasgupta.He is the only person to have composed National Anthems of more than one country- Jana Gana Mana for India and Aaamar Shonar Bangla for Bangladesh.His music was primarily influenced byu the Thumri style of classical music.However,many of his tunes can be sourced to Rural and Folk music of Europe.

However,it was his poetry that put Tagore in the global Literary scene.He was primarily influenced by the classical and rishi poets,namely Kalidas,Kabir and Ved-Vyasa. Internationally,Gintajali or the Song Offerings is his best known work.His other works include Sonar Tori, Balaka and Purobi. Later with the advent of Modernist poets like Jibananada Das,he changed his style.Africa and Camalia are his better known later poems. His best translated poem remains,Where the mind is without fear.

Gitanjali fetched Tagore the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913. Tagore was famed throughout much of Europe, North America, and East Asia. He was key in founding Darlinton Hall School a progressive coeducational institution in Japan. He founded Shantineketan in the year 1901. Tagore's works were widely translated into English, Dutch, German, Spanish, and other European languages by the Czexh Indologist Vincenc Lesney and French Nobel laureate Andre Gaite.

Tagore still remains the most well-known Indian literary figure.He breathed his last on 7th August 1941.He was suffering from clong periods of illness.

Tagore left behind an entire generation of inspired minds,which still pay respect to the great soul.With him,we lost someone who wrote for the masses and lived for the eternity of literature as a whole. For someone who'd go on inspire the likes of Pablo Neruda , Gabriela Mistal and Octavio Paz, it was nothing surprising to assume the depth in his work and largely the universality in it.Kabiguru Rabindranath Tagore was the perfect model of Jack of all trades and the perfect exception of Master of None, for whatever he did, he produced legends.a poet,a playwright, a novelist, a painter, a philosophist,a composer,a lyricist, and a visual artist.

The more we say about him,the more things are left to be said.

Friday, January 18, 2008

The Neighbour

It has been quite long that I developed this uncanny habit of noticing people's behaviour when I do not have anything else to do!(Well,sans studies.I mean I hardly do it. :D). My huge balcony is somewhat like an undaunted watch tower in the middle of the forest and the animals roaming about here and there.

I dare say,it has been quite an experience! People truly are so very unique in their own little way,whether it's an apparently innocent kid having his first bicycle ride in the busy street or the old man lookin greedily all over the place.

But my eyes have not only been restrained to watching people pass by.I saw what I never really bothered to.Infact,what most of us do not bother to notice.

For instance,how many of us notice the gentle rustle of the leaves in the cool wind.The intricate pinnate of the leaves,weaving some kind of unusual greenery.The birds chirping(Yes,something so very rare these days) and jumping around from one branch to the another.

Anyway,coming back to people now.The last day(it must have been around eleven in the morining when I saw a middle aged man,probably in is early fifties.He had this powerful glasses that was partly hidden under his unruffled hair.He was skinny and was dressed in a typical "senior-citizen" "white-stripes-on-blue-my favourite-shirt".He got down from the rickshaw(Although I did not have any idea then where he was coming from) with quite a difficulty and barely managed to stay in his feet while picking up two of his suitcases;both of which were of again that typical grey colour.

Our house has a portico,the only one remaining in the town.The rickshawalas often rest underneath it.The arrival of an unknown rickshaw made their eyebrows to rise and the arrival of an unknown face in town as small as Muthal is pretty "I-want-to-know-who-that-man-is".We pretty much know most of the people of our town.

You could say Muthal was the borderline between rural and urban of the district.So,we had shades of both the cultures.We had an AC Shopping mall and as well as a granary.Muthal was the sub-divisional headquarters.So,it was frequented by many government officials(whose quarters stood brilliantly off The Ganges).And so it was for our new guest.Yes,guest.

I happened to run down the winding staris into the banquet hall and peeped behind from the tapestry stand.And,I accumulated the following data:
Name:Atul Tarafdar
Age:52
Occupation:Assistant to the Sub-Divisional Officer
Reason he was sitting on that chair:He is going to be my neighbour.We are going yo have a new tenant.He was renting the room beside mine for three years.

The room anyway, was unused since I shifted to this room now.The room was neatly made.The unused bed that was lying in the third floor was brought down.A book rack,a study and one almirah was also put in.The best part of my and now Atul Babu's room was that, it over looked out garden.So,we were most likely to be woken up by the chirping of the birds.

Atul Babu stepped in with a curious look in his eyes and have a give gleam in his experienced looking eyes and said "Ah! Eitah?. Besh Shundor"


Some day 5 years down the line......



The man looked over the lenses of his horn rimmed glasses and spoke with great elegance,"...and this is how Netaji fled from his house in Kolkata", and my sister,Anushka gave a sweet little smile.And next it was time for Atul Babu to play few Dylan songs in his Blues Harp. And,I would enter his room humming the lyrics.(This was pretty much usual for me). "Ah! Esho bosho. Pora holo?", he told.

Atul Babu would make a perfect gentleman to me. The one Satyajit Ray would dream of.