(published in Indian Literature Jan-Feb, 2007)
“Oh God, take me away. Take me away.”---kneeling before the thapana of her god Makon prayed at dawn.
She has been praying for this from the very day she had to erase the vermillion point on her forehead. Today also she did the same. However, she is a bit angry with her god today. If her almighty god can not rescue her from these troubles, who else will? People have always rejected her. No one is there to help her with the chores in this lonely house. There’s nobody in the neighborhood with some sympathy for her so that she too will live on. There is no land in her name except this where her house stands. For food she goes bagging door to door and earns a handful of rice. Most part of the day she spends in Bapukon Gosain’s house. She helps the wife with household chores and gets this or that in return. Sometimes they pay in cash too. And her life moves on. For the last two years she has been a widow.
Makon broke into a sob in the middle of her prayer. Tears rolled down her cheeks, made the thapana wet, but she didn’t stop crying. Again and again she prayed before her blind god, “Oh God, please take me away out of this world. Take me away.” But her prayer went in vain. Again and again her prayer got interrupted by the image of Bapukon Gosain.
Bapukon Gosain.
Handsome, well-built, fair complexioned Bapukon Gosain with sharp features. One can get relaxed just having a look at him. His words are like the sweet --------- of the honey bee. The whole world respects this Bapukon Gosain. He offers his prayers through nam-prasanga four times a day at his place. The large courtyard always remains packed with devotees coming from far away. All of them bring manani for him. Only in monsoon this shows a slackening. People have to remain busy in their fields these days.
There was not a single person there yesterday. The wife had been to her mother’s. It was not very far and she was supposed to come back that very day. In the afternoon Makon entered the dhekighar shouting for the wife, “Aai? ………..Aai …………?” But instead of the aai it was the prabhu who answered. Getting such a sweet voice from the prabhu, Makon’s heart melted.
“Who’s there? Makon? Come in, come on in.”
The wife arranged for the Gosain’s breakfast early in the morning leaving enough time for the man to enjoy unending leisure. Gosain, with his mind free of all worries, was relaxing on a mat placing his head on a pillow. Apprehensively Makon entered and saw the bare bodied, sweet faced Bapukaon Gosain resting on a mat and throwing smiles at her. Makon felt awkward at this smile.
What is happening? Good God! Makon could not raise her eyes fixed on the ground and remained there still like a mahogany tree. She hesitated to ask even a single question.
“Makon, you’re like one in the family. And still you’re not open to me. Why? Come and sit beside me. Let me talk about your husband. When we were young……, Bapukon Gosain stopped.
Makon was about to go. Bapukon Gosain too rose from the seat. “Just wait a while, Makon. Wait for a while.”
Makon could do nothing but to stop.
“Tell me why have you come? Your aai is not home.”
“Aai promised me a sack full of grain”
‘Of course, you’ll get the grains. Why should you worry when I am there? At his death-bed your husband asked me to look after you.”
Makon was not aware of any such things. The only thing she was aware of was that this Bapukon Gosain is trying to send some message across. Her heart sank. But she could not realize why she was staring at the handsome face of Bapukon Gosain , why those signs of lust on the sacred face of the Gosain appeared so attractive to her.
Makon was home after a short while. When she was leaving Bapukon Gosain said he would visit her the next day.
The whole night Makon could not sleep. While dozing she dreamt of her husband’s buring eyes chasing her like a flame. But she was not inviting those sins herself. It was only Bapukon Gosai who…….”
Will her god forgive her? No, he won’t. Will people forgive her if the come to know? No, they too will not. Will she herself forgive her? No, never. But this Bapukon Gosain has magical charms. When he looks at you, smiles at you get hypnotized.
That is why Makon prayed before her god in the morning.
“Take me away before this Bapukon Gsain steps in m house, oh God. Don’t hand me over to that magical Gosain, my Lord.”
But nothing happened in her life before Bapukon Gosain arrived at her place. Makon again stood still staring at the well-built handsome body of the Gosain. The man gave her a flirtious smile and said, “What happened my sweet heart? Stood still?”
“There was a tone of precious loveliness in the Gosain’s words. There was dearth of love in this poor Makon’s life. At these words from the Gosain she didn’t dare to say anything not to speak of protesting. Like a motionless statue she kept looking at Bapukon Gosain.
Bapukon Gosain got hold of a footstool and sat down. Unable to trail Makon’s thoughts, he started slowly, “I can see your house needs repairing.”
“Yes, but who’ll do it”
“You can get a hut built in my courtyard itself. You can eat at my place, stay at my place.”
“No, prabhu I am thinking I’ll stay at this place till my death. Don’t pester this woman anymore.”
“Alright, alright. It seems you are thinking along the right lines. But you are a woman. How’ll you live without anybody by your side?”
“I have my God by my side.”
“Yes, yes.” Gosain cast an insulting eye over the room where the idol of her god was kept. Gosain’s face became somber when he caught sight of the thapana .
“Whose idol is that one?”
“Jalanarayan .”
“Where did you fetch it out from?”
“From Dergaon.”
“How long is it you’ve not bathed the idol?”
‘It’s been two years.”
“Why are you keeping it with you?”
“I don’t like to stay in an empty house.”
“ Hu…”, Bapukon Gosain measured the pros and cons and said, “Tomorrow I’ll come and bathe the idol. You will rot in hell if you keep your god unclean like that.”
With this warning Bapukon Gosain left her house. Makon’s heart got filled with remorse. Yes, it is true that the god has not been bathed for two years. How’ll the god be satisfied with her? How’ll a dissatisfied god answer her prayers?
Makon bowed her head out of gratitude for Bapukon Gosain. Oh, the way he cares for her.
Just at dawn Makon heard Bapukon Gosain calling out her name. She was full of surprise. Why is the Gosain coming to bathe the idol when it’s still dark? Probably he thought it is the auspicious hour. How’ll the sins of two long years get erased otherwise?
She hastened to answer the door. She saw the body of Bapukon Gosain is glistening in the dim light of dawn like the smoke of an incense stick. This person has the blood of a god. She kept standing and staring at Bapukon Gosain. Bapukon said softly, “Sweet heart, you are my goddess!”
Makon was caught by surprise especially at his using the word ‘sweet heart’ and ‘goddess’. Unable to understand anything she kept looking at the Gosain.
“You are surprised, aren’t you? I had a dream and rushed out.”
“What kind of dream?”
“Your Jalanarayan is ordering me to get him out of here.”
“You are lying.”
“No, this is the truth.” Bapukon Gosain gave a faint smile.
“I won’t let you.”
“I know you can not live without your god. If the god leaves the goddess will also leave.”
“I won’t leave.”
“The god will be unhappy if you don’t go with him.”
Makon’s heart trembled, “No, he will not. He will not.” Thus yelling Makon ran toward the room where the idol of her god was kept.
Bapukon got a shock for sometime and then followed her. Hesaw idol dangling down her neck tied to a hand woven towel.
It was dawn. Waukon shut at her, “He you sinner, what are you up to? Why did you touch that idol without taking a bath?”
“You can not take away my god.”
Bapukon did not move. He noticed it was not the Makon he met the other day. This Makon is totally different from the other one. A strange one.
Translated word-art among and within...
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Birendra Kumar Bhattacharya
The Contemporariness of Birendra Kumar Bhattacharya
I have always felt at one with rebels, wherever they are, because like the artist they want to reform the chaotic world by imposing on it a form of material unity.
So said Birendra Kumar Bhattacharya, poet, novelist, journalist, essayist, story-teller, critic and political activist all at one go. A ‘writer labourer’ is how the writer described himself, a man born in a small and remote village of Assam who went on to hold the highest literary position of the country as the president of the Sahitya Akademi at the age of sixty four. Influenced by Gandhiji’s ideals of truth and justice and led by the socialist ideas of Jay Prakash Narayan and Ram Manohar Lohia, Bhattacharya wrote nearly twenty novels, sixty short stories, ten radio plays, a few translations, travelogues, biographies and innumerable essays and articles.
During the Quit India movement he was a student in Cotton College, Guwahati which he left in the middle of the studies in support of the non co-operation movement and went back home. There he started a monthly titled Puberun. Twenty eight years later, he penned the novel Mrityunjaya based on the incidents of 1942 depicting a railway derailment by the freedom fighters. This book won him the Jnanpith Award, the citation of which describes the book as a novel that ‘sums up in miniature as it were, what was happening all over India at that time.’
Then he went to Calcutta for a degree of journalism and worked for an Assamese magazine Banhi as the assistant-editor. While in Calcutta he witnessed the 1946 riots and lost his friend Amulya Barua, the budding poet. The manuscript of his first novel also got burnt along with the body of his friend. Unable to bear the loss of his friend he came back to Guwahati and started working as the assistant-editor of the newspaper Natun Asomiya. In 1947 he joined the Socialist Party newly formed by Jay Prakash Narayan.
In 1950 he went to Ukhrul, a Naga village in Manipur to teach in Christian Missionary School. During his three year stint in the village, Bhattacharya gathered enough material to weave his novel Iyaruingam where he ‘presents the Nagas as a part of the human situation of our country with an imaginative sympathy and understanding which go into the making of a great work of art’ (Brochure, Sahitya Academy). The book won him the Sahitya Academy award. A recent translation of the book is available as Love in the Times of Insurgency brought out by Katha Publications, Delhi.
In 1952 he came back to Guwahati and worked with Ramdhenu as the editor where he continued to work for the next twelve years contributing in every possible way to create an atmosphere of progressive writing. The magazine produced a new generation of young writers, especially poets. This period of the Ramdhenu is known in Assamese literary history as the ‘Age of Ramdhenu’ or ‘The Ramdhenu Yug’.
In 1963 Bhattacharya retired from Ramdhenu and joined Navajug as the editor. In 1958 he married Binita Bhattacharya, a lady with a literary bent of mind who is now engaged in collecting the scattered works of her husband and making his unpublished things available for publication. She is also planning to organise her husband’s collection of books into a library in her quiet and peaceful house by the serene Brahmaputra, near the Nabagraha Temple in Guwahati.
In 1979 he was awarded the Jnanpith. In 1983 he became the Vice President of the Sahitya Akademi and in 1988 the President of the same organisation. In 1994 he was made the Ram Manohar Lohia Professor in Kurukshetra University. During the two years stay in the University he came out with the book The Salient Ideas of Dr. Ram Manohar Lohia. He was also the President of the Bharatiya Lekhak Sangh and a life-time member of The Institute of Gandhian Thought and Peace studies of the University of Allahabad.
Besides the earlier mentioned novels Bhattacharya wrote Ai (1960), Ballari (1973), Chaturanga (1987), Cinaki Suti (1971), Daini (1976), Kabar Aru Phul (1972), Kalor Humuniah (1982), Munichunir Puhor (1979), Nastachandra (1968), Phul Kunworor Pakhi Ghora (1988), Pratipad (1970), Rajpathe Ringiai (1955), Ranga Megh (1976), Sarat Kunwar (1978) and Sataghni (1965).
Rajpathe Ringiai depicts the confusions of a youth during the first days of independence. The protagonist asks, “If the people have got freedom where is people’s rule? Where is their right over their land? Where is the right of the farmer over his produce? Where is the arrangement for the workers’ establishments? Where is their right to live?” (Translation mine). The ideas expressed by the protagonist are also those of the author. Like Mrityunjaya and Iyaruingam his other novels are also based on incidents of historical importance. Sataghni is written on the backdrop of the Chinese aggression, Kabar Aru Phul on the backdrop of the freedom movement in Bangladesh, Pratipad on the industrial strike of 1939 in the Digboi Oil Refinery. What Bhattacharya says about this novel – “There is no hero or heroine in the novel; all the characters are prisoners of time” – is true of all his novels. The female characters are strong, independent and always fighting for their rights.
The author better known for his novels is also a master of the short story. His stories dealing with historical events of global and national importance besides being seeped in the local flavours of the North Eastern region are scattered over the pages of magazines and newspapers. Only four collections are available, Kolong Ajiu Boi (1987), Satsari (1963), Khiriki Kakhar Akhon (1994) and Eta Purani Golpor Na Rup (2000). Besides giving a bird’s eye view of his times in the short stories, the author had also sowed the seeds of many of his novels in the short stories. For example ‘Sermon on the Mount’ gives us a clue about what is to follow in Iyaruingam.
Out of the ten radio plays, ‘Ahalya’ a verse drama, was published in the magazine Uruli. Another play ‘Bharat’ and a monologue ‘Kusal Kunwar’ are included in the anthology Antarar Natyawali (1984).
He has also written the biographies of Sri Aurobindo, Gopinath Bordoloi, Krishna Kanta Handique, Ambika Raichaudhuri and Chandra Nath Sharma. Russia Yatra (1984) and Simai Amoni Kore (1975) are his travelogues. He has also translated into Assamese D.D.Kosambi’s Introduction to the Study of Indian History (1973), Earnest Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls, Rabindra Nath Tagore’s short stories as Ekuri Eta Chuti Galpa (1978), Sarat Chandra Chatterjee’s Parineeta (1948). The other works of the author include Amar Swadhinota Andolan (1975), Banga Deshar Naba Jagaran Aru Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar (1970), Derso Bachar Asamiya Sanskriti (1978), Naga Kakar Sadhu (1987), Sabhapatir Abhibhasan (1983), Sambad Sahitya (1975) and Humour and Satire in Assamese Literature (1982).
A few of his works are available in translation. The novels Ai, Mrityunjoya and Sataghni have been translated into Hindi. Iyaruingam and Pratipad have been translated into Bengali. Mrityunjaya and Iyaruingam are also available in English translations. A recent translation of Iyaruingam has been published by Katha as Love in the Times of Insurgency. Sataghni has also been translated into Marathi and Malayalam.
The Contemporary Relevance of the Author: The mainstream India often associates the North East with terrorism and mayhem, flood and other natural disasters. The different states are often clubbed together as a homogeneous entity despite their diversity of land, people and their culture. The region and its people is often viewed by mainstream India as the ‘other’ because of the unfamiliar food habits, dress code, ways of living and social practices. Another factor contributing to the otherness is the physical distance of the region from the mainland and the fact that littler attention is given to the region by the mainstream media. The stories of Birendra Kumar Bhattacharya demolish certain stereotypes about the people from the North-east and to give the willing reader a chance to experience the real North-East.
A common thread that runs through the stories in this collection is that of ethnic conflict and violence not only in the North East but in the whole Indian sub-continent. For example, ‘Riddles’ is set in the 1960’s when violence broke out between the Assamese and the Bengalis on the issue of language. ‘Fazal Mia’, set in Shella, the border area of Meghalaya, during the Indo-Pak war of 1970’s speaks about another kind of violence, i.e. violence brought about by war. Like any other war, this war also had the worst impact on the poor and the powerless. While the rich and the opportunist raked in huge money through smuggling and black marketeering, the penniless had to go without food. ‘A Story Retold’ recapitulates the communal violence in Noakhali of west Bengal in the wake of independence. The protagonist visits the site where Gandhiji came and stayed during the violence and expresses his dismay at the state of the site, a mansion which is now a warehouse and a dirty match box factory. The sentiment expressed that the mansion could very well have been turned into a memorial reminds one of a lecture delivered by Tariq Ali on the 27th of January, 2006 at the Delhi University where he spoke about the need for monuments to be created in Punjab and Bengal to honour those killed during the partition. ‘Sermon on the Mount’, set in a Naga village where all the characters are Nagas, captures the initial stages of the Naga movement and the insistent attempts of a Pastor to bring back the youths from the path of violence to that of peace and righteousness. ‘Netaji and Ingaijang’ describes a Mizo character in conversation with an Assamese. Though it does not deal with violence directly has some relevance in terms of the Mizo revolts that was to follow. The resentment of the Mizo rebels on the plea that the Government of the plains people, that is, the Assamese does not care much for the welfare of the tribal population is voiced by the Mizo character Biyakaliyana. ‘Victim of Intolerance’ is set in a relatively recent period when Assam was reeling under the shadow of terrorism.
Conclusion: It would be a worthwhile exercise to make his works available in English and other Indian languages. That would not only facilitate inter-cultural exchanges but would provide answers to the ongoing ethnic strife in the North Eastern states and in the whole Indian sub-continent.
_____________________________________________________________
I have always felt at one with rebels, wherever they are, because like the artist they want to reform the chaotic world by imposing on it a form of material unity.
So said Birendra Kumar Bhattacharya, poet, novelist, journalist, essayist, story-teller, critic and political activist all at one go. A ‘writer labourer’ is how the writer described himself, a man born in a small and remote village of Assam who went on to hold the highest literary position of the country as the president of the Sahitya Akademi at the age of sixty four. Influenced by Gandhiji’s ideals of truth and justice and led by the socialist ideas of Jay Prakash Narayan and Ram Manohar Lohia, Bhattacharya wrote nearly twenty novels, sixty short stories, ten radio plays, a few translations, travelogues, biographies and innumerable essays and articles.
During the Quit India movement he was a student in Cotton College, Guwahati which he left in the middle of the studies in support of the non co-operation movement and went back home. There he started a monthly titled Puberun. Twenty eight years later, he penned the novel Mrityunjaya based on the incidents of 1942 depicting a railway derailment by the freedom fighters. This book won him the Jnanpith Award, the citation of which describes the book as a novel that ‘sums up in miniature as it were, what was happening all over India at that time.’
Then he went to Calcutta for a degree of journalism and worked for an Assamese magazine Banhi as the assistant-editor. While in Calcutta he witnessed the 1946 riots and lost his friend Amulya Barua, the budding poet. The manuscript of his first novel also got burnt along with the body of his friend. Unable to bear the loss of his friend he came back to Guwahati and started working as the assistant-editor of the newspaper Natun Asomiya. In 1947 he joined the Socialist Party newly formed by Jay Prakash Narayan.
In 1950 he went to Ukhrul, a Naga village in Manipur to teach in Christian Missionary School. During his three year stint in the village, Bhattacharya gathered enough material to weave his novel Iyaruingam where he ‘presents the Nagas as a part of the human situation of our country with an imaginative sympathy and understanding which go into the making of a great work of art’ (Brochure, Sahitya Academy). The book won him the Sahitya Academy award. A recent translation of the book is available as Love in the Times of Insurgency brought out by Katha Publications, Delhi.
In 1952 he came back to Guwahati and worked with Ramdhenu as the editor where he continued to work for the next twelve years contributing in every possible way to create an atmosphere of progressive writing. The magazine produced a new generation of young writers, especially poets. This period of the Ramdhenu is known in Assamese literary history as the ‘Age of Ramdhenu’ or ‘The Ramdhenu Yug’.
In 1963 Bhattacharya retired from Ramdhenu and joined Navajug as the editor. In 1958 he married Binita Bhattacharya, a lady with a literary bent of mind who is now engaged in collecting the scattered works of her husband and making his unpublished things available for publication. She is also planning to organise her husband’s collection of books into a library in her quiet and peaceful house by the serene Brahmaputra, near the Nabagraha Temple in Guwahati.
In 1979 he was awarded the Jnanpith. In 1983 he became the Vice President of the Sahitya Akademi and in 1988 the President of the same organisation. In 1994 he was made the Ram Manohar Lohia Professor in Kurukshetra University. During the two years stay in the University he came out with the book The Salient Ideas of Dr. Ram Manohar Lohia. He was also the President of the Bharatiya Lekhak Sangh and a life-time member of The Institute of Gandhian Thought and Peace studies of the University of Allahabad.
Besides the earlier mentioned novels Bhattacharya wrote Ai (1960), Ballari (1973), Chaturanga (1987), Cinaki Suti (1971), Daini (1976), Kabar Aru Phul (1972), Kalor Humuniah (1982), Munichunir Puhor (1979), Nastachandra (1968), Phul Kunworor Pakhi Ghora (1988), Pratipad (1970), Rajpathe Ringiai (1955), Ranga Megh (1976), Sarat Kunwar (1978) and Sataghni (1965).
Rajpathe Ringiai depicts the confusions of a youth during the first days of independence. The protagonist asks, “If the people have got freedom where is people’s rule? Where is their right over their land? Where is the right of the farmer over his produce? Where is the arrangement for the workers’ establishments? Where is their right to live?” (Translation mine). The ideas expressed by the protagonist are also those of the author. Like Mrityunjaya and Iyaruingam his other novels are also based on incidents of historical importance. Sataghni is written on the backdrop of the Chinese aggression, Kabar Aru Phul on the backdrop of the freedom movement in Bangladesh, Pratipad on the industrial strike of 1939 in the Digboi Oil Refinery. What Bhattacharya says about this novel – “There is no hero or heroine in the novel; all the characters are prisoners of time” – is true of all his novels. The female characters are strong, independent and always fighting for their rights.
The author better known for his novels is also a master of the short story. His stories dealing with historical events of global and national importance besides being seeped in the local flavours of the North Eastern region are scattered over the pages of magazines and newspapers. Only four collections are available, Kolong Ajiu Boi (1987), Satsari (1963), Khiriki Kakhar Akhon (1994) and Eta Purani Golpor Na Rup (2000). Besides giving a bird’s eye view of his times in the short stories, the author had also sowed the seeds of many of his novels in the short stories. For example ‘Sermon on the Mount’ gives us a clue about what is to follow in Iyaruingam.
Out of the ten radio plays, ‘Ahalya’ a verse drama, was published in the magazine Uruli. Another play ‘Bharat’ and a monologue ‘Kusal Kunwar’ are included in the anthology Antarar Natyawali (1984).
He has also written the biographies of Sri Aurobindo, Gopinath Bordoloi, Krishna Kanta Handique, Ambika Raichaudhuri and Chandra Nath Sharma. Russia Yatra (1984) and Simai Amoni Kore (1975) are his travelogues. He has also translated into Assamese D.D.Kosambi’s Introduction to the Study of Indian History (1973), Earnest Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls, Rabindra Nath Tagore’s short stories as Ekuri Eta Chuti Galpa (1978), Sarat Chandra Chatterjee’s Parineeta (1948). The other works of the author include Amar Swadhinota Andolan (1975), Banga Deshar Naba Jagaran Aru Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar (1970), Derso Bachar Asamiya Sanskriti (1978), Naga Kakar Sadhu (1987), Sabhapatir Abhibhasan (1983), Sambad Sahitya (1975) and Humour and Satire in Assamese Literature (1982).
A few of his works are available in translation. The novels Ai, Mrityunjoya and Sataghni have been translated into Hindi. Iyaruingam and Pratipad have been translated into Bengali. Mrityunjaya and Iyaruingam are also available in English translations. A recent translation of Iyaruingam has been published by Katha as Love in the Times of Insurgency. Sataghni has also been translated into Marathi and Malayalam.
The Contemporary Relevance of the Author: The mainstream India often associates the North East with terrorism and mayhem, flood and other natural disasters. The different states are often clubbed together as a homogeneous entity despite their diversity of land, people and their culture. The region and its people is often viewed by mainstream India as the ‘other’ because of the unfamiliar food habits, dress code, ways of living and social practices. Another factor contributing to the otherness is the physical distance of the region from the mainland and the fact that littler attention is given to the region by the mainstream media. The stories of Birendra Kumar Bhattacharya demolish certain stereotypes about the people from the North-east and to give the willing reader a chance to experience the real North-East.
A common thread that runs through the stories in this collection is that of ethnic conflict and violence not only in the North East but in the whole Indian sub-continent. For example, ‘Riddles’ is set in the 1960’s when violence broke out between the Assamese and the Bengalis on the issue of language. ‘Fazal Mia’, set in Shella, the border area of Meghalaya, during the Indo-Pak war of 1970’s speaks about another kind of violence, i.e. violence brought about by war. Like any other war, this war also had the worst impact on the poor and the powerless. While the rich and the opportunist raked in huge money through smuggling and black marketeering, the penniless had to go without food. ‘A Story Retold’ recapitulates the communal violence in Noakhali of west Bengal in the wake of independence. The protagonist visits the site where Gandhiji came and stayed during the violence and expresses his dismay at the state of the site, a mansion which is now a warehouse and a dirty match box factory. The sentiment expressed that the mansion could very well have been turned into a memorial reminds one of a lecture delivered by Tariq Ali on the 27th of January, 2006 at the Delhi University where he spoke about the need for monuments to be created in Punjab and Bengal to honour those killed during the partition. ‘Sermon on the Mount’, set in a Naga village where all the characters are Nagas, captures the initial stages of the Naga movement and the insistent attempts of a Pastor to bring back the youths from the path of violence to that of peace and righteousness. ‘Netaji and Ingaijang’ describes a Mizo character in conversation with an Assamese. Though it does not deal with violence directly has some relevance in terms of the Mizo revolts that was to follow. The resentment of the Mizo rebels on the plea that the Government of the plains people, that is, the Assamese does not care much for the welfare of the tribal population is voiced by the Mizo character Biyakaliyana. ‘Victim of Intolerance’ is set in a relatively recent period when Assam was reeling under the shadow of terrorism.
Conclusion: It would be a worthwhile exercise to make his works available in English and other Indian languages. That would not only facilitate inter-cultural exchanges but would provide answers to the ongoing ethnic strife in the North Eastern states and in the whole Indian sub-continent.
_____________________________________________________________
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Bishnu Prasad Rabha
Bishnu Rabha, singer, composer, lyricist, dancer, playwright, actor, politician, sportsman, the Kalaguru (the Preceptor of the Arts) of Assam is discussed today more for his revolutionary ideals than for his cultural contributions. Many eyebrows are raised at the very mention of the man himself, a man who abandoned his father’s tea estates and joined the freedom struggle to carry a ransom over his head for most of his life. Bishnu Rabha’s dream of a multiethnic Assamese society with full participation of each and every community is particularly relevant in strife torn Assam today.
In the following songs the translator has tried to represent in however selective a way the man and his dreams, both big and small.
1)
March ahead O farmers
Workers, compatriots
March ahead.
Wake up O youth workers,
Oppressed exploited farmers.
In your shoulders is hidden infinite strength.
Hear the sirens of the battle
March ahead.
What are you afraid of?
The gods are beside you.
You are surrounded by the enemy and rich landlords,
The suckers of poor farmers’ blood.
Destroy the pride of the rich.
Don’t be kind, the days of mercy are over.
Gather your sickles, hoes and machetes
March ahead.
You are the ones to grow grain for the world,
You are the ones to provide weapons to the rich.
The factories run because of you,
The huge fields are there because of you.
The magical plough, the sickle and the hammer belong to you.
You are the possessor of great strength.
Carry the blood red sign and march ahead.
March ahead.
2)
O my guru Sankar
Tell me what do I do?
O my guru………..
On his way to the lower part of Assam
Sri Sankar Guru stopped in the bank of the river.
O Ram Ram.
Six scores of disciples are clapping to the tune of
The ghoshas Sankar is singing in praise of the Lord.
O Ram Ram.
The boat is slippery
The oar is slippery
The soi is slippery too.
Accompanied by six scores of disciples
The guru is seated inside the soi
O Ram Ram.
Hailstones are pulling the boat down
The boat will sink O Ram Ram.
The guru himself takes the boat to his shoulders.
O my guru……………….
A lone tree stands amidst the water
The abode of various birds
O Ram Ram.
At dawn the birds fly to ten directions
Abandoning their attachment to the tree.
O my guru Sankar
Tell me what do I do?
Sankar is here Sankardev, the 16 th century Vaishnavite poet of Assam, who brought a religio-cultural regeneration of the land and its people and completely changed the social fabric of the region.
Soi: the covering of a boat
3)
My boat is sinking O my Lord
My boat is sinking.
Taking the name of the Lord
The boatmen row.
My boat is sinking my Lord
My boat is sinking.
The blazing sun above
The burning sand below
Hunger burns my belly.
Whirlpools in the river breast
The mad river flows.
O my Lord my boat is sinking
My boat is sinking.
Dark clouds cover the sky
The sun hides itself
Thunderstorms roar
And the mad wind blows.
O my Lord my boat is sinking
My boat is sinking
The boat is sinking
The oar is sinking
The soi is sinking too
Mountainous waves roar.
The boatman is lost
He sings only thy name O Lord.
My boat is sinking O my Lord
My boat is sinking.
4)
I am a simple innocent girl
Carrying a bunch of flowers in my aansal.
With immense care I decorate my sarai with unknown flowers.
A whiff of breeze comes dancing,
The cuckoo and the keteki skip through the trees singing.
With immense care I decorate my sarai with unknown flowers.
I am a simple innocent girl
Carrying a bunch of flowers in my aansal.
Aansal: the end of a sador, the traditional two piece Assamese dress for a woman
Sarai: tray usually made of brass or bell metal
In the following songs the translator has tried to represent in however selective a way the man and his dreams, both big and small.
1)
March ahead O farmers
Workers, compatriots
March ahead.
Wake up O youth workers,
Oppressed exploited farmers.
In your shoulders is hidden infinite strength.
Hear the sirens of the battle
March ahead.
What are you afraid of?
The gods are beside you.
You are surrounded by the enemy and rich landlords,
The suckers of poor farmers’ blood.
Destroy the pride of the rich.
Don’t be kind, the days of mercy are over.
Gather your sickles, hoes and machetes
March ahead.
You are the ones to grow grain for the world,
You are the ones to provide weapons to the rich.
The factories run because of you,
The huge fields are there because of you.
The magical plough, the sickle and the hammer belong to you.
You are the possessor of great strength.
Carry the blood red sign and march ahead.
March ahead.
2)
O my guru Sankar
Tell me what do I do?
O my guru………..
On his way to the lower part of Assam
Sri Sankar Guru stopped in the bank of the river.
O Ram Ram.
Six scores of disciples are clapping to the tune of
The ghoshas Sankar is singing in praise of the Lord.
O Ram Ram.
The boat is slippery
The oar is slippery
The soi is slippery too.
Accompanied by six scores of disciples
The guru is seated inside the soi
O Ram Ram.
Hailstones are pulling the boat down
The boat will sink O Ram Ram.
The guru himself takes the boat to his shoulders.
O my guru……………….
A lone tree stands amidst the water
The abode of various birds
O Ram Ram.
At dawn the birds fly to ten directions
Abandoning their attachment to the tree.
O my guru Sankar
Tell me what do I do?
Sankar is here Sankardev, the 16 th century Vaishnavite poet of Assam, who brought a religio-cultural regeneration of the land and its people and completely changed the social fabric of the region.
Soi: the covering of a boat
3)
My boat is sinking O my Lord
My boat is sinking.
Taking the name of the Lord
The boatmen row.
My boat is sinking my Lord
My boat is sinking.
The blazing sun above
The burning sand below
Hunger burns my belly.
Whirlpools in the river breast
The mad river flows.
O my Lord my boat is sinking
My boat is sinking.
Dark clouds cover the sky
The sun hides itself
Thunderstorms roar
And the mad wind blows.
O my Lord my boat is sinking
My boat is sinking
The boat is sinking
The oar is sinking
The soi is sinking too
Mountainous waves roar.
The boatman is lost
He sings only thy name O Lord.
My boat is sinking O my Lord
My boat is sinking.
4)
I am a simple innocent girl
Carrying a bunch of flowers in my aansal.
With immense care I decorate my sarai with unknown flowers.
A whiff of breeze comes dancing,
The cuckoo and the keteki skip through the trees singing.
With immense care I decorate my sarai with unknown flowers.
I am a simple innocent girl
Carrying a bunch of flowers in my aansal.
Aansal: the end of a sador, the traditional two piece Assamese dress for a woman
Sarai: tray usually made of brass or bell metal
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