Wednesday, May 12, 2010

I am really really sad and anxious and in despair. I had this sudden urge to hear Ja hariye jay- a Rabindra-sangeet that I had heard only from my music teacher. It is a beautiful song about coming to terms with the losses that assail mortal life. And the melody is equally beautiful and completely in tandem with the lyrics. Now I searched the net for a reliable and faithful rendition of the song but came up with nothing. Faithful adherence to the swaralipi (notation) as put down by Tagore is a must with me, being well aware of and a strong believer of the fact that the full import and beauty of the lyrics and Tagore's genius in writing and composing songs can be comprehended and appreciated only when one follows the notation faithfully. This has been an issue of much debate between me and my friends, thankfully without acrimony. But the fact remains that most of the singers nowadays, even those blessed with a really good voice and marvellous singing capability have taken it upon themselves to work their 'magic' and 'individuality' in the songs of Tagore, openly, audaciously and odiously flouting the notations and sometimes even the lyrics. Why can't these creative people improvise on their own works rather than try and improve on Tagore's? But they are popular because people have now no or very limited access to faithful renditions of Rabindrasangeet. So who's Subinoy Roy, who's Nilima Sen?There's not one song sung by the either of them available on the net. But look for Indrani Sen, look for Srabani Sen- you will be flooded with numerous horribly mutilated renditions of Rabindrasangeet sung by them.
True, many say music obeys no rule. Please let them write their own songs and express themselves to their heart's content. But try obeying rules of Rabindrasangeet for once, diligently, sincerely and if you understand music, it will be evident that the freedom of expression lies not outside the purview of these rules. If we call Tagore a man of all ages, let's be true to our word. Let us take him as our contemporary in his terms.

I'm afraid we'll soon forget what true Rabindrasangeet is.

I think more than sad or anxious, I am angry. Seething in fact.

Here's the lyrics:

Ja hariye jay ta aagle boshe roibo koto aar
Aar parine raat jagte he naath, bhabte anibar.
Achhi ratri dibash dhore duar amar bondho kore
Aste je chay sandehe tay tarai bare bar.
Tai to karo hoyna asa amar eka ghore.
Anandamoy bhuban tomar baire khela kore.
Tumio bujhhi poth nahi pao, eshe eshe firiya jao.
Rakhte ja chai, royna tahao, dhulay ekakar.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Class tests and Term-papers galore. I hate to let the last week of my life in JU be so hectic that I'm left with no leisure to gather memories enough for later. And though in retrospect, I'll love and sorely miss this excitement of last-minute pouring over books and notes, writing fervently on white sheets of paper against a rough wooden bench, the handwriting deteriorating as the invigilator announces the barely few minutes left in which to cram the major part of the answer, and a sense of jubilation even after a terribly bad exam- right now I believe I'm dying under the pressure And I hate the lack of opportunity and time to indulge in sweet afternoon nostalgia and going over fond, fond memories again and again and again.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

At the cost of sounding EMO, I am now wary of trusting anyone. Everything is just made of words. GODDAMNIT.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Every relationship demands a transparency, a mutual trust and scope for respect. When either of these demands is not met, the relationship fails. And accepting falsehood and dishonesty is never a condition for ideological flexibility or liberalism. I have always hated lies and I will not compromise even if it means letting go of people I value.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Today I did two things that made me sad afterwards. As is a common practice with me, I sprinkled water on a friend's face lovingly after washing my hands. And as I was walking down the corridor, I saw a poor little dog turn its face towards me, wagging its tail happily and I sprinkled water on its face! Immediately I felt bad when I saw it cringe away. I apologised and it seemed to understand. It seemed to smile at me and wag its tail more vigorously than before.
And when I was waiting for a bus, a young boy came up to me and said 'Didi ekta chop kine debe?' I gave him the money, but didn't buy him a chop. And for some reason he didn't go up to the fast-food stall and buy what he wanted to. He just kept asking others to buy him a chop. I don't fel strongly for able-bodied beggars, but something about this boy, something about the way he kept staring at the food from a distance, waiting very patiently for someone to buy him food, hurt me. All around the stall there were hungry faces, but shining faces and his was the only greasy, hungry face and lit up only once in a while. My bus came and I didn't wait to see if he ate. I'm sorry.


Thursday, March 25, 2010

People play foul games. Right Left Center. Painful. Tiresome. Bestiality is two minutes away. And never to become man again is a possibility that is eternal.

I'll be your pillow, I'll be your shoulder, I'll be the ear you can whisper into. But I'll not support you. Not when you are wrong. I'll stand by you, I'll believe you, I'll love you still.But I'll not speak for you. Not when you are wrong.

Monday, March 22, 2010

My M is getting married. When we were very young and we believed in a Utopic world, we decided to give marriage a miss and stay together as 'nuns'. Somehow we thought that being a celibate was equivalent to being a nun. As adolescents, we were less rigorous and I pictured M getting married in an opulent manner, in a carnival of red and gold and saw myself posing as the principal bridesmaid. M is getting married. I am happy for her. I am sad. It feels weird, unsettling to see your best friend marry a man of whom you know so little. M is happy. I'm happy that she's happy. But inside my heart there's this nagging fear of finally having to let go of her.It's a fear of unbelonging. M will make a beautiful bride. She is a beautiful woman. But I won't be there. I could never have imagined not being with her on her wedding day, not sitting tight by her side throughout the day, not eyeing her in-laws with a little apprehension and more abhimaan but I am going on a trip. Somehow it feels better to stay away.

I'm probably horribly selfish and possessive, but M is still so much a part of me, despite the physical distance,that it's almost as bad as alienation from the self. I'll miss the M who has always been such a constant factor in my life. Love you. Wish you a very happy married life.