Monday 23 December 2013

‘Amai Bhasaili re’- Bengali song that bonds three nations (India, Pakistan and Bangladesh)



Note : I could not find many historical details like year of recordings of different versions . So I cannot authenticate who sang it first or whose version is older due to paucity of data in internet. However I tried aligning these versions chronologically and put the years of recording wherever I could find data. I seek help from my readers for more information. Your comments are most welcome.


A recent Coke Studio Pakistan video on Pakistani pop music pioneer Alamgir singing ‘Amai bhasaili re’ spurred my interest to search more.  


And what I found after sifting through internet is profound. The following article will show how a strong musical bond exists between three countries – India, Pakistan and Bangladesh of the Indian subcontinent through a song sung in the language Bangla.

‘Amai bhasaili re’ is a Bengali song of the genre Bhatiali. Bhatiali songs are sung by sailors/fishermen/boatmen in West Bengal and Bangladesh. They are well known folk songs handed over from generation to generation and are very popular for their simple tune and soulful lyrics. Google search shows this particular song ‘Amai dubaili re, amai bhasaili re’ was a collection of the Bengali poet Jasimuddin and made popular by Abbasuddin Ahmed, the singer from Bangladesh. Please click on the following video for Abbasuddin’s recording.  The song has simple words but intense meanings. The sailor complains to the river waves that your ups and downs is drowning me at one time and floating me at another. It seems the shore is distant, however the boat which is broken should not drown. The shore has to be reached. Similar situations in our life makes us boatmen cruising through the turbulent sea of life where our ultimate redemption lies in reaching the end of our life - the death - the shore.


In India it was popularized by several singers. Nirmalendu Chowdhury became immensely popular in post independence Calcutta by swaying a whole generation of youth to its melodious tune. In the movie Ganga made by Rajen Tarafdar in 1960, Manna Dey sung this song under the baton of music director Salil Chowdhury.  







 This song , translated to Hindi by Gulzar with words differing from the original while maintaining the spirit was used sung by Hemant Kumar in 1961 in a Bimal Roy classic ‘Kabuliwala’. Note the tune; it is same as the original bhatiali song.

Then in Pakistan the pop icon Alamgir popularized this song in 1970’s. He migrated from Bangladesh to Karachi during the turbulent seventies. Along with him migrated this Bengali song which became an instant hit in Pakistan and a highpoint of his career when he recorded it in 1973. The recent Coke Studio video by Alamgir shows the immense popularity of this song which has swayed an entire nation for decades. Being a pop music pioneer and a pop icon in Pakistan, Alamgir commands a huge fan following spreading over generations. Following video is his interview on this topic where his awestruck musician friends chip in. 
This song continues to be popular in Bangladesh and India. Following videos are testimony of that. 



Sailors all over the world sing while rowing   to keep off the drudgery. However everywhere their songs reflect the perennial flow of the river, the ups and downs of the waves and how it blends with human life. Examples of the likes of Bhatiali genre or sailormen singing can be had from Russia and US. ‘Song of the Volga boatmen’ is a famous example from Russia. ‘Old man river’ is another example from the US. It also influenced Bhupen Hazarika of Assam, India in ‘Bistirno Dupare’. That is a different story altogether.

So the universal appeal and the ubiquitous popularity of the Bengali bhatiali song ‘Amai bhasaili re’ proves the existence of a unique musical bond and common heritage running through a vast sub-continent despite the geographical barrier and political animosity. This also proves that music has a timeless appeal that transcends borders and generations.

Note: I included only one Bengali song to illustrate the musical bond between three countries. However Hindustani classical music (the ragas and gharanas) and Quawalis and Ghazals form a common bond between India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Rabindrasangeet, Nazrulgeeti, Atulprasadi, Dwijendrageeti, Lalon geeti, Baul songs form another common bond between India and Bangladesh. And then there is Bollywood whose songs and singers has charmed all across these borders for generations. I still remember a top Pakistani diplomat with roots in Murshidabad royal family scouring Calcutta music stores in early 2000’s to collect Pankaj Mullick songs. And I also remember flowing tributes by Javed Akhtar and Gulzar on Noorjehan who migrated to Pakistan after partition.


Thursday 28 November 2013

Marilyn Monroe and Chanel No.5

During my M.Tech in Biotechnology in Jadavpur in 2001, one of my professors from Chemical Engineering Department Dr. Pinaki Bhattacharyya used to teach us diffusion. He used to take example of Chanel No.5 while explaining how fragrance molecules diffuse from one place to another. With a naughty smile he mentioned Marilyn Monroe loved to wear Chanel No.5. Then he digressed to nitty gritty of chemical engineering. But why did a smile hang on ?

I decode his furtive smile today. Today after long I retrieve the video which shows why Marilyn was famously linked to Chanel No.5 ! I could after all decode the hint in his smile. Watch it. Marilyn famously answered " Only a few drops of Chanel No.5 " when asked what did she usually wear to bed at night ! Much is left to your imagination.

Another ad on this theme was by Brook Shields for Clavin Klein jeans. " You know what's there between me and my Calvin Klein Jeans ? ....Nothing" said Brook Shields whose Blue Lagoon made many young men come of age in early 1980's.


Friday 8 November 2013

How Bibhutibhushan published Pather Panchali



I share this anecdote from Sagarmoy Ghosh’s book ‘Rachona Sangraha’

Bibhutibhushan after his graduation worked for the rich Bengali zamindar Khelat Ghosh in Bhagalpur, Bihar. He was a manager at their timber industry. Trees of the forest in Bhagalpur were felled, cut and supplied to the timber merchants. Bibhutibhushan was working in that forest and this was the place which shaped Aranyak. This was also the place where Pather Panchali was written. Bibhuti babu being a sensitive soul longed for the literary adda of Calcutta and Upendranath Gangopadhyay was a lawyer in Bhagalpur at whose residence a weekly literary meet would take place. Upen babu noticed a tall man wearing a dhoti and kurta with a lathi and lantern at hand comes, sits quietly, listens intently and leaves quietly. One evening it was Kalboisakhi jhor. Nobody arrived at the meet. Upen babu found only Bibhuti bhushan is present. Quizzically he asked “ What do you do ? Why do you carry a lantern ? Why do you come ?” Bibhuti babu said he works at Khelat Ghosh’s zamindari, carries a lantern because he has to walk through the forest when he goes back at night and that he comes to enjoy the literary flavour. Upen babu asked “Have you written anything ?” “Yes,” said Bibhutibhushan, “ I have written a novel”. Upen babu was about to fall from his chair “ What !! You have written a novel?? People start with short poetries, and then they graduate to short stories. How come you have written a whole novel?? OK…give it to me next week. I shall read”. This was the conversation. After that Bibhuti babu left when the storm subsided. Next week Bibhuti babu came back with the novel he called Pather Panchali and very shyly handed it over. By the time Upen babu finished reading it he realized he has spotted a gem. The moment Bibhutibhashan came for next meeting Upen babu exclaimed “ Apni ke he moshai ? Ei lekha to jogot joi korbe !”. Looking at a shy Bibhuti babu Upen babu said “ But a word of advice…..you have to learn the metrics of writing….some chapters are too long, some are short….please count the words and distribute the chapters evenly….then you give it to me …I shall arrange for its publication”. Bibhuti bhushan was amazed. He went back and made the changes. When he handed over the final manuscript Upen babu said “ Bibhuti babu, as a father takes a son’s responsibility, I take your manuscript with same responsibility. I am going back to Calcutta. My son-in-law is funding me to start a weekly literary magazine. I promise your novel will be published in my magazine in episodes and mark my word, you are the next star of Bengali literature”.

Then Upen babu made Calcutta his base and started the magazine “ Bichitra”. In no time Bichitra became talk of the town. Bibhuti babu got the news of the phenomenal success of Upen babu’s effort but found that his novel Pather Panchali is still unpublished. By now almost a year has passed and Bibhutibhushan took up a school teaching job and came back to Calcutta. One day after school he visited Bichitra’s office. Upen babu was not there but a few suited booted Bengali gentlemen present there dismissed a dhoti kurta clad Bibhutibabu wearing a torn brown soiled cambis shoe as if he was a piece of dirt.. They were animatedly discussing sexuality in D H Lawrence’s literature. Waiting for Upen babu , a shy Bibhuti babu stood outside the door. Suddenly from a room inside came out Upen babu. Looking at Bibhuti babu coyly waiting outside he ran and embraced Bibhuti babu and exclaimed “Lo and behold the next star of Bengali literature. Bibhuti, you are going to revolutionize the literary field”. The gentlemen sitting on sofa were incredulous. They could not believe what they heard from a man of stature like Upen babu. Their jaws opened in disbelief and the collective thought was “ This man ! this lowly man with such dirty clothes and shoes is going to be the next star !! No, impossible .” How wrong they were. Pather Panchali started as episodic novel published in Bichitra. Bengal has never witnessed such plain emotions, such simplicity coming out from a village boy living a mundane life. It was so fresh. Upen babu got flooded with congratulatory letters. Bibhuti bhushan later on told that being a village boy he never liked the noise of Calcutta but that afternoon when Upen babu heralded him to the pantheon of Bengali literature he was ecstatic and humbled.

Rest as they say is history.

NB : A letter shortly after the publication of Pather Panchali came to Bichitra office. Bard of Bengal from Jorasanko, Calcutta wanted to know from Upenbabu who this new writer is !!


Monday 28 October 2013

Santa Came to Kolkata



Christmas in Calcutta has always been a nice time. Hailing from a liberal family we always enjoyed the revelry of the festive season in Park Street. Nahoum’s cake ( the last Jewish shop in New Market), Flurys pastries, Jim Reeves, midnight mass at St. Paul’s cathedral and fairs in Maidan were parts of Calcutta living. As a child, I always received goodies in Christmas. That none other than Santa Claus brought them was my firm belief until my age of innocence was gone.

So it was natural that my nephew Harsh would be treated likewise during Christmas. And being a little child Harsh always believed in Santa. But the winter of 2003 was different. Harsh was 6 years old now. He demanded the proof of existence of Santa. No longer could he be placated with the story that Santa daddu brought all the goodies from distant North Pole riding on a sledge.

Seeing is believing. Being his dearest uncle I was entrusted with the duty of taking him to Santa. Many wise men and women suggested me shopping malls, restaurants and churches as probable places of Santa’s presence. Persons dressed up as Santa generally entertain little children in these places- they said. Now with this piece of information Harsh offered his help also. Every morning my cherub would scuttle pages of newspapers and Santa’s photo in any advertisement or news would herald Santa’s arrival to him which I had to take note of seriously. Why did these papers have Santa’s photos? To build a festive mood or attract children? Uff !!!

Anyway armed with this information Harsh and I embarked on the journey to find Santa on 25th December evening in Kolkata (politically correct rechristened version of Calcutta). A visit to St.Paul’s cathedral and scenes of nativity therein did not show presence of Santa. With anxious nephew on tow I meandered through traffic filled roads of Kolkata to reach Park Street at 8’ o clock.  It was choc-a-bloc with revelers. But to Harsh it meant nothing.  Looking for Santa we reached Music World. The guard, to my nephew’s dismay, declared Santa was there but he left just now.  I was not prepared for what happened next. Harsh started crying and blaming me. A little child crying on the street can be a difficult proposition. This scene and my explanation thereafter attracted many sympathetic passersby who suggested that last resort of Santa may be shopping malls. We headed to Shopper’s Stop. It was 9.30 p.m. Santa was there in the morning. He has left in the evening. Harsh was furious. He would not budge a single inch. It was my entire fault and I had to pay the price by standing whole night in the December cold, declared harsh. Lot of coaxing and cajoling had us on the way to home. And voila! Our luck shined. Santa was there, in front of a restaurant. But spotting a real Santa Harsh became transfixed. When Santa said Hello and handed him a chocolate, Harsh was already speechless with awe. That white-bordered red velvet coat and white cotton beard of Santa bowled him over!

We did not walk back home; we flew. We soared on ecstasy; the ecstasy of seeing Santa brought wings to my nephew’s long cherished wish. On that day I realized the power of the sentence “Seeing is believing”. I shall never forget those twinkles in a little child’s eyes.

College Street Boi Para



As an exiled Calcuttan I witness with deep sadness the decline of a great city. Calcutta these days looks like a rich zamindar (landed gentry) falling into hard times. Yet in this city there exists an institution which I consider to be one of the best in the academically inclined world. I am talking of College Street ‘boi para’ (The ‘book shops/stores’ of College Street). Noted Bengali writer Shankar once lamented on closure of Thacker Spink, a Barnes and Nobles of India. But my story of College Street will show not all is lost.

It was 2007. I went home in June after joining IIT Bombay as a research scholar. I was looking for some books and what better place can be than College Street! I visited almost all the pavement book stores in search of ‘The Meditations’ by ancient Roman philosopher king Marcus Aurelius. Ever since I read Upamanyu Chatterji’s English August wherein the reference of this book I found, I got interested to get a copy. From the reference I knew Penguin India published this book way back in the 1960’s. But my search in College Street was in vain until I went to Dasgupta & Company, one of the oldest book stores in India since 1880’s. Following is the transcript of my dialogues with the affable Mr.Aurobindo Dasgupta.

Me: Hi, Do you have a copy of ‘The Meditations’ by Marcus Aurelius?

Mr.Dasgupta: No. That book is out-of-print for pretty long time in India. Penguin used to publish it in the sixties. But why do you need that book? Where are you from?

Me (surprised, thinking this man already knows what I know about the book!)  : Oh ! it is not there. Well…actually I am from IIT Bombay. I read a lot and I am interested to read this book.

Mr.Dasgupta: I see. You are from IIT. So you must have an internet connection?

Me (a little more surprised): Yes, but why do you ask?

Mr.Dasgupta: Well…then please log in to MIT library website. You will find the book. They have a copy. You can download the chapters and print.

Me: Thank you. I shall try that.

Now I was more than surprised. Could a College Street book store owner be so knowledgeable? My doubt was put to rest once I logged in to MIT library site. OMG! The book was very much there, for free!

Now tell me which book shop owner in this whole country can surprise you with such erudite all-encompassing love for book?

A Loyal taxi Driver in Calcutta



It was winter of 2003. We sold out our big ancestral home in posh South Calcutta location due to some unavoidable reasons and purchased two flats in a not-so-posh locality in Calcutta. Understandably we were sad since our distinguished forefathers who were a part of Bengal history enjoyed almost a century of residing in that posh locale. But one incident that happened to me in that time etched a deep memory.

It was a wintry morning. I was going to see our new property. I came out from our three-storied building to the street in front and hailed a cab. The taxi driver looked at me quizzically and then gave a long stare at our ancestral house. The moment I hopped in and told him my destination, he asked me “Is it your house? Does this place belong to you?” while starting his taxi. I was perplexed and became a little uneasy because many-a-times when you sell out a big property a lot of people in locality get to know somehow and become extra-inquisitive about the deal and its paraphernalia. And ours was a disputed property. So I had reasons to be alert. Anyway I said a curt “Yes” and kept mum through rest of the journey except while giving directions. When I reached my destination after half an hour or so I asked him how much should I pay? His reply baffled me more. He said “Babu, I will not take a single penny from you. This ride is for free. Even I can offer you a free ride every time you or your family member boards my taxi. I am forever grateful to your family. My father survived because of your ancestor’s kind refuge”. You do not expect this kind of answer from a cab driver who generally minds business. I was clueless. I asked him the reason for such kindness. Then he told me a true-story that shows loyalty, chivalry and humanity is not all lost in these days of all-pervading consumerism and capitalism. Hold your breath dear readers; I am going back to 1946!

16th August 1946 is a black day in Indian history. On that fateful day Muslim league launched their demand for a separate Islamic nation (Pakistan) strongly across India. Calcutta was the worst hit. History says at least six thousand people were butchered in Calcutta alone due to Hindu-Muslim riot ( Readers may watch a movie ‘Hey Ram’ starred by Kamal Hasan and Rani Mukherji to get a gut-wrenching glimpse of what actually happened on that very day on the streets of Calcutta or read ‘Bangalnama’ by Tapan Raychaudhuri). The said taxi driver is a Hindu whose father was young in 1946. Their family was disturbed in the said riot. Our family with the leadership of late Sri Kushi Prasun Chatterji ( my paternal grandfather’s eldest brother), a noted lawyer and Congress patron of his time in Calcutta offered refuge to many riot-stricken Hindu families including this said taxi driver’s family in our big ancestral mansion. Angered by this the local Muslim league leaders barged in and demanded Kushi babu’s intervention in supporting riot-afflicted Muslim families also. Kushi babu showed exemplary courage that day which is still remembered by old-timers in Bhowanipore locality of Calcutta. He immediately wrote a pact with Muslim league leaders that innocent Muslims will also be given refuge in our home given that they should not fight at any cost with the Hindu refugees. Realizing the graveness of the situation the said leaders signed the pact; the Muslim victims of riot too came in our house. For next seven days or so until the riots and hostilities subsided, until the communal hatred ebbed away the Hindu and Muslim riot-afflicted victims stayed in our house peacefully with their food and shelter completely taken care of by our family. This taxi driver was not even born then, his young father  took our refuge. Then they went back to their own homes after situation improved. And Kushi babu’s benevolence became folklore in Bhowanipore, Calcutta ( Kushi babu’s courageous tale got recounted recently albeit with less details than mine in 2007 by Dhritikanto Lahiri Chowdhuri in Anandabazar Patrika after he received Ananda Puroskar for his book ‘Hatir Boi’).

Now recounting his tale the cab driver told me with tears in his eyes “ Babu, once your forefathers saved mine. And my father always told me showing your house that anybody from that house is my guest and savior. Your house is our temple, babu ! How can I forget that you stay in that house and come from that family which saved our family from perishing for sure? Babu, my father is dead. But as long as I am alive I will follow what he said. I will not take a single penny from you, babu. Please tell this to your family also.” Now my eyes moistened as I heard his story. He left. But he left an indelible impression on me. I understood it is not a building that a man resides makes a man. It is not money that makes a man. It was Kushi Prasun Chatterji’s life-saving measures and good deeds that saved so many families from perishing away. And this extra-ordinary loyalty of an ordinary cab driver restituted my faith in humanity.

Sunday 15 September 2013

More on Bengali humour



I am following by a postscript of my earlier article on bengali humor.

Those who are good speakers are called “Bokta”. Those who speak much without content are “Bokbokta”.

Those who have a loud voice which does not require mic(microphone) are said to have a “Omaik” voice.

The next one is from my friend Harisadhan Dasgupta ( he was the first documentary filmmaker of India; though much older when I met him he became my friend). Two Bengali directors made a film jointly and got it selected for an International film festival. They asked Harisadhan how to have a catchy name for the duo. Harisadhan said “ Please choose the name DUI MAAL”. Readers, please remember Louise Malle was the name of an internationally recognized avant garde filmmaker. Hari dadu made a pun of Louis Malle’s name by DUI MAAL. What an apt nomencletaure.

Another I got from Tapan Raychaudhuri’s Bangalnama. In his younger days elders of the family used to chide the younger unemployed ones by this sentence “ Bari te bos e kichu podyo likhteo to paris . Dekh to Dwiju babu r choto bhai likhe kemon du poisa korche ?” Needless to say Dwiju babu is Dwijendranath Tagore and his choto bhai is Rabindranath Tagore.

My friend was watching a recent bangla movie called Anuranan. He did not like the movie at all. He was pissed off with the story line and acting. When asked for a review he told “ are bhai ota to cinema noi….jeno Sikkim r London er noishorgic drishyer powerpoint presentation”.

Overheard in Gariahat mor....looking at the huge chaos of pedestrians and traffic a bhadralok commented " LIC kore rasta par hote hobe Dekhchi" (Requires an LIC policy to cross the road...such menacing traffic)

Friday 13 September 2013

MY CINEMAS




NOTE: This article written by me was first published in The Hindu, July 15, 2012.
Best Five
Motorcycle diaries (2004)
As a medical student and restless soul, Che Guevera, the mythic leftist youth icon traveled all along the South American continent in a rundown motorcycle with his biochemist friend Alberto Granado. The tour along the poverty stricken exploited populace of Latin America changed him forever and gave him the mission of his life. Che mixed whole-heartedly with lepers in the leper colony they served and refused to wear gloves while touching the lepers. In the end Che is a transformed character. This movie directed by Walter Salles has beautiful shots of landscape of South America with lilting music by Gustavo Santaollala. It is a must-see for all college students who have heart full of dreams, altruism and purity. The journey, the experiences can put one into introspection and transformation- such is the power of the movie.

There will be blood (2007)
Rise of a ruthless oil-magnate in California during the oil boom at the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century was documented in this movie. Beautifully enacted by Daniel Day Lewis, infuses life into the ruthlessness and avaricious character of the Daniel Plainview. The man utilizes innocence of a child to buy land and arm twists the local church to his monetary gain. At last he is friendless as he disowns his child and he kills the church priest.

Schindler’s list (1993)
Supposedly Spielberg’s best movie which won several Oscars with career-best performance by Liam Neeson as a benevolent German businessman who saved 1200 Jew’s lives during 2nd world war. Shot in black and white it shows the horror of the Nazis and how Oskar Schindler ( Liam Neeson), a top ranking German businessman gives the Jews jobs in his factories and saves their lives. The scene where a young girl roaming aimlessly with a red rose and the last scene where the Jews presented him with a gold ring touched my heart. World renowned violinist Itzhak Perlman’s solo violin performance written and performed by him brought to life the trauma of gas chamber victims.

Meghe Dhaka Tara (1960)
This is a heart-rending story of an exploited daughter of a refugee family in Bengal. Supriya Chowdhury played the role of Nita, the daughter brilliantly. Everybody of that family rises up with her help forgetting her in the end. In a sanatorium in the end for treatment of TB, she cries from the bottom of the heart ‘Dada ami banchte chai’ ( Brother I want to live) when his brother narrates the story of well being of her family. A Rabindrasangeet ‘Je rat e mor duar guli bhanglo jhor e’ sung by Debabrata Biswas and Gita Ghatak is a brilliant rendition of a song displaying emotions of the central characters in a movie.

Apur Sansar (1959)
A Ray classic, the last part of Apu trilogy which brought Soumitra Chatterjee and Sharmila Tagore into films. A sweet tale of romance of newly weds Apu and Aparna disturbed by sudden death of Aparna (Sharmila). To forget his pains Apu (Soumitra) takes up a job in a coal mine in MP. One of the most memorable scenes in film history is when Apu throws away pages of his autobiographical novel which was supposed to be his dream-work. The floating pages drifting away in wind still bring lumps in my throat. Another poignant scene is at the end when Apu reclaims his son and walks to the new life.

Those five which almost made it

Central do Brasil (1998)
This movie is all about innocence. A disenchanted middle aged single lady, Dora develops a sweet attachment to an innocent 9 year old boy, Josue and goes on a journey of self-discovery to get the boy back to his father he never met. Dora earns by writing letter for illiterates in Rio Di Janeiro’s Central station which she never posts. She meets this boy whose mother accidentally dies in front of the station. She reluctantly takes care of the boy and tries to reunite him with his father who stays away in a small settlement in Brasil. The innocence in the storyline, in the sweet relationship between this lady and the boy tugs your heart-string. In the end she leaves this boy to get back to Rio and both are left alone with memories. This movie by Walter Salles won several awards in Berlin and Golden Globe.

City of God (2002)
City of god is my favorite any day. Reality does not escape from Rocket, the protagonist of City of God. He is a poor slum dog who wants to have a life free from crime and violence inherent in his surroundings. In Rio di Janeiro’s slum ‘City of God’, the natural course of a child’s life will be of drugs, crime and violence. Rocket’s gun-toting friends and siblings do the same thing. But Rocket wants to lead a clean life. Surprisingly, an ordinary camera comes to his rescue and becomes his passport to an honest world. He shoots photographs, not bullets, like gun-carrying friends and one day, his photograph of warring drug-lords of the slum makes front-page of a newspaper of which Rocket is a door-to-door distributor. Images of crimes from that slum are hard to come by; even police are averse to operate in that slum. Rocket knows these criminals from childhood and his proximity to these bad men is a boon. He can take inside images of this slum and those actually make Rocket a high-earning photographer. The escape from poverty through photography seems very much realistic to me. The man is rising above his destiny by hard work; not winning a jackpot through the hands of destiny. He is maintaining a core of honesty though surrounded by drug-dealers, petty snatchers etc. This act of reality attracted me the most. Fernando Mireilles directed this movie and it won 4 nominations in Academy awards though it won none in 2004. Despite that it is considered a world classic.

Nayak (1966)
This is another classic by Ray which portrays trials and tribulations of an amateur theater actor rising to stardom in films. Thought to be far ahead of its time, this movie shows the insecurities of a movie star, a hitherto unexplored theme in Indian films. Ray used the charisma of the matinee idol of Bengali cinema, Uttam Kumar. None other than Uttam Kumar seemed fit enough to portray the emotions of a film actor shown in several dream sequences and flashbacks while he goes to Delhi in a train. The probing questions of a lady journalist attract him towards her.

Fugitive Pieces (2007)
Recently after I saw ‘Fugitive Pieces’ (2007, directed by Jeremy Podeswa based on a eponymous novel by Canadian writer Anne Micheals) in IIT Bombay film club, a movie about Jacob Beer a holocaust survivor trying to coming to terms with his own loss I rediscovered the haunting melody of Beethoven….I realized why they say Beethoven is a timeless classic. Jacob’s sister used to play on piano ‘The Moonlight Sonata’ by Beethoven and Jacob remembers moonlight sonata from his past when they were a happy family of four until the Nazis hounded them in Poland, killed his parents in front of his own eyes and abducted his sister. Jacob survived miraculously with the kind help of a Greek archeologist. But the trauma that incident left behind is difficult to hide. He grows up in Canada, becomes a successful teacher and writer but never away from his past. He is consumed with the obsession of finding holocaust stories and writing them…..his wife Alexi deserts him once she gets to know from his diary how the shameless vitality of her is a distraction for Jacob’s endless pursuit of the past. In these moments and others when Jacob’s sister comes back in his dreams and memories I could identify with Jacob’s sense of loss.
Cairo time (2009)
I liked Cairo Time thoroughly. It is not like Turning 30 which I was suggested and got disappointed. 
Cairo Time essentially captures the love that never happened between two mature individuals 
disparate in their cultural settings. It's slow and long but passionate like smouldering ember. 
So don't see when you are particularly unhappy. But it's like coffee. Once you get into it you c
annot get out. At least I could not....The music, the photography, the moments of subtlety....s
imply touched me. Juliette, a mother of two comes from US to meet his UN official husband in 
Cairo. But her husband is away. In between she is taken care of by Tareq, a handsome Egyptian 
bachelor. Slowly she falls for Tareq over boat cruise on Nile, chess match in local café, a travel
 to the Pyramids and to Alexandria to attend Tareq’s old flame’s daughter’s marriage. 
They almost kiss once and despite that there are no scenes of physical intimacy; but when her 
husband returns after the long wait Juliette understands she has begun to miss Tareq. We get 
that hint by her uncontrollable sob  in her husband’s arm on the way to the Pyramids. A lovely 
ending for a love lost ! A sublime and haunting film on sensuousness embedded in a platonic 
relationship. This movie got an award in Toronto international film festival.
















Sunday 8 September 2013

Some examples of sense of humour of the Bengalis



When you have a haircut on pavement sitting on a brick, it is Italian salon ( It is brick in Bengali). When CMDA ( Calcutta Metropolitan Development Authority) started digging the arterial roads of Cal for Metro Rail , Calcuttans said CMDA stands for C(K)atche Mati Dekhbi Aay….Jyoti means light in bengali…When Jyoti babu was CM, there used to be frequent and long powercuts in Cal. Whenever loadshedding will begin, drowning the whole para into darkness Calcuttans will say “ Jyoti gelen”. Arrival of power would be greeted as “ Oi Jyoti elen”……

There are several funny translations which a Bengali would only make and roll on floor laughing. Some examples

Aesop’s fables – Isabgul
Army Rum – Joaner Arak
Ration card – Khyber Pass
Empty Space – Khalistan

* When Obama became US Prez and Mrs. Clinton became Secretary of State, Bengalis said " Ek dike Bama, r ek dike Obama"......

* When commies left and Mamatai came they said " Bam shashon sesh, bama shashon shuru" or "Bam gelo Bama elo"

* When BJP promised Ram rajya Bengalis said " Bam shashon er por ki Ram shashon ?"

Some writings on bus,truck etc….

Jonmo theke jwolchi--------Burning till birth (written over a fuel tank of a truck)

Dekhbi r jwolbi, luchir moto fulbi------Look at me and burn in jealousy, as a puri swells in hot oil

Rupo dilam sankra ke nupur gore dilo, gari dilam driver ke pagol kore dilo------Gave some silver to a jeweler, he returned me an anklet. Gave my car to a driver, he turned me mad.

Often told in a bus

Pichoner dike egiye jan…..progress towards back….said in a minibus by a conductor requesting the passengers to move towards rear end of the bus, how apt in today’s Bengal !!

** A zoology student in an exhibition was asked the scientific name of an animal as exhibit. Promptly he said it is Janina janina…..(I don’t know…I don’t know)……but he said it with an accent as if he was saying a Latin name….you know scientific names are Latin names…….

The Gem ……..Heard this in a movie….. “Apnake Boka bolle Ardhek Bola Hoy”…….

Parody
Hari he Madhabo ar kotokal ekla shobo ?




Tuesday 23 July 2013

On the Similar Tune of a Rabindrasangeet and a Nazrulgeeti

Surprisingly a Rabindrasangeet and a Nazrulgeeti has similar tune. Why ? Can anybody let me know ? Are they based on same Raaga of Hindustani classical music ?

Please listen and note the similarity in tune.
Alpo Loia Thaki Tai....a Rabindrasangeet by Subinoy Roy

Shunyo e buke ...a Nazrulgeeti by Dhiren Basu

Monday 15 July 2013

On telegram's end : link with Beethoven, Ray and the Tagores



Yesterday was the day when telegram service stopped in India. The title of this blog suggests there is a common link between Beethoven’s Fifth symphony, Satyajit Ray’s Pather Panchali and the Tagores. That link is telegram. Kishore Chatterji, the great western classical music connoisseur suggested me once that the opening movement of Beethoven’s Fifth symphony reminds one of dot-dot-dot-dash, the Morse code. I am attaching the youtube video for your perusal.


Then in Satyajit Ray’s Pather Panchali, Apu and Durga run in the field to see a rail train for the first time. Before they reach to see the locomotive they are puzzled by the humming of the telegraph post which was so nicely captured by the master. Readers are requested to see the following to realize what am I talking about. Somehow the video could not be uploaded, hence I copy the link here for your perusal.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-JWZDALouI

 
Another anecdote is from Ranjan Bandyopadhyay’s article in Robibashoriyo in Ananadabazar Potrika published about a decade ago . Maharshi Debendranath Tagore sent his eldest son Dwijendranath to handle zamindari in Bengal villages. Dwijoo babu got upset by abject poverty of his subjects and thought of helping by money. He sent a telegram to his father “ Send fifty thousand (50,000)”…Understanding his son’s inability to realize ways of the world, Debendranath replied in another telegram “ Come back soon”.

I remember another Bengali movie Dak Diye Jai where the postmaster delivers a telegram declaring a villager’s death. When the family is still mourning another telegram comes wherein it stated that the last telegram be ignored please and the villager is very much alive. This brings joy back to the family.

There will be some more references of telegrams from cinemas of yesteryear. I don’t remember all. Maybe one can be from Postmaster of Ray or Aparajito of Ray. But I don’t recollect these. I wrote about those which I remember quite well about telegrams.

Sunday 14 July 2013

On appreciating music and Ray



A question nags me. When we listen to music what do we listen to ? Does the quality of recorded music playing instrument has any role in liking music ?

We mostly listen to music on our music players – CD player, DVD player, PCs, radio, TV, mobile phone, MP3 player etc. Every morning in Mumbai suburban railways I see people with earplugs enjoying music. These days except attending some musical soirees we rarely listen to songs sung by individual or music made by instruments firsthand. And over the past century music recording industry has grown enormously. Now there are copious choices for a consumer to buy a music player. People vouch for their high quality and many boast owning brands.

To bolster my point that music appreciation doesn’t require hi-fi music systems I recount some anecdotal evidences from the master – Satyajit Ray. Mr. Ray as you are aware created music for his films. Except his initial few films where Pandit Ravi Shankar and Ustad Vilayat Khan directed music, most of his films had music created by Ray. Songs of Gupi Gayen Bagha Bayen and Hirak Rajar Deshe became evergreen. Whole generations of Bengalis grew up with it and still treasure these. After his death HMV released a two cassette album named “Music of Satyajit Ray”. I possess a rare recording of his Calcutta Radio interview called “Music I Live By” wherein he described his inspirations and creativity. And many also may remember his lifelong love for Western Classical Music.

As revealed by Bijoya Ray, his wife, in “Amader Kotha” – an autobiography, the master never owned any hi-fi music player for a significant portion of his life. In the last leg of his life he purchased a hi-fi instrument. Otherwise he was happily listening to world class music in Chandni-made Ahuja speakers. Chandhi chowk is a place in central Calcutta where you get cheap electronic goods. His friend Chidananda Dasgupta told in an interview to Sananda after Ray’s death that Manik listened to the best of music ( he meant Western Classical - Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Gregorian chants etc)  in a ramshackle music player whereas today’s nouveau riche  listen to trash in their costly hi-fi players. This revelation struck a chord in me because I always believe music appreciation does not depend on branded music players. If you have an ear for music, anything is music for your ears.

Ray incidentally liked full-throated singing style (he was particularly fond of Kishore Kumar and Anup Ghosal). He disclosed in an interview to Doordarshan Calcutta after Debabrata Biswas’s death that how he liked George da’s full-throated Rabindrasangeets. The master also lamented in the same interview that with the advent of microphones and loadspeakers singers stylize their voice to suppress the full-throated nature a song demands.

Friday 19 April 2013

On Calcutta

** I regret to say that the following image has been copied by one DEVIKA and posted in Facebook without acknowledging me. This image is a rare one. I got this book from my college library, scanned the image and uploaded it. I have no intention of copyright infringement ; I already mentioned the source and the publisher. However, DEVIKA copied it from my blog and published in FB which garnered many likes; but I was put in the dark about this theft.



In 1975, Raghubir Singh compiled his photographs of Calcutta in an eponymous book published by The Perennial Press, Hong Kong. Its cover was designed by none other than Satyajit Ray. Joseph Lelyveld of The New York Times wrote a long introductory article. The photographs were doubtlessly good but my attention was drawn to particular text on the Bengalis. There are lot of derogatory comments on Calcutta and its natives but there were some comments on Bengali lifestyle which attracted my attention. I quote relevant portions from the book to showcase the Bengalis who love high-brow culture and can talk volumes on it informally (known as ADDA). 


“If you look for extravagance in Bengali sophistication it is easy to find, not so much in its ceaseless verbal display – the kind associated in other climes with literary cocktail parties and academic common rooms – as in a genuine and frequently astonishing enthusiasm for the remote, the incongruous and the arcane. On an early visit to Calcutta I was talking to a high police official about revolutionary terrorism in his district, only to find that the conversation had been mysteriously diverted to the subject of William Makepeace Thackeray who, it turned out, had been born in Calcutta. Which was my favorite Thackeray novel, the policeman wanted to know. When I admitted I had read only “Vanity Fair”, he urged me to get hold of “Henry Esmond”. Where else in the English-speaking world, I still wonder, could you get that advice in a police station?

Then there was the police official who was approached on the behalf of French director Louis Malle who was in Calcutta filming documentary footage for the cycle of films that later appeared as “ Phantom India”. The occasion was a demonstration near the West Bengal legislature that the police were about to disperse with what is known in India as a Lathi – charge. ………M.Malle had expressed a discreet interest in this technique of crowd control and wanted to know if he could record it on film. Ordinarily, Indian police are no less sensitive to this kind of publicity than Mayor Daley’s troops in Chicago but this, after all, was Calcutta. The officer in command said he had followed M. Malle’s career in Cahiers du Cinema and would be honored to have him film his lathi charge.

For Calcutta, it was almost a predictable response. On still another occasion, a group of intellectuals organized a protest demonstration against Andre Malraux, of all people. They had heard that Malraux, then minister of culture in France, had threatened the tenure of Henri Langlois as secretary general of La Cinematheque Francaise in Paris, the world’s largest archive of old movies. Almost as a reflex, these Bengalis hastened to express their solidarity with Jean Luc Goddard, Alain Resnais, Francois Truffaut and all other luminous figures they had read about.”

I got this book from St.Xavier’s College Mumbai library. This book has a history too. It was a gift to the college library by none other than Gerson da Cunha !


Saturday 2 March 2013

Reminiscing: Dr. Abir Lal Mukherjee




Dr.Abir Lal Mukherjee, the legendary ENT surgeon of Calcutta died recently. This post is about my recollections about this great man. Calcuttans cannot forget that our Kali pujo and diwali became less noisy because he took an initiative along with West Bengal Pollution Control Board and lawmakers to curb noise. That he was a legendary surgeon is well known. But that he was a good writer and elocutionist is known by few. We knew Dr Mukherjee because he was my maternal grandfather’s junior in medical college Calcutta. Because my grandfather knew him well, he performed my tonsillectomy when I was 5 years old. Later on he performed a surgery to treat my sinusitis in 1996 when I was in college. My post is regarding that incident.

I was admitted in Calcutta Pay Clinic, a nursing home built by my grandfather Dr. Murari Mohan Mukherji and 11 fellow doctors. After the surgery Dr. Abir Lal Mukherjee visited me. After clinical examination I asked him “Were you by any chance a student of noted writer Bibhuti Bhushan Bandyopadhyay? “. He was quizzical. He asked me “How do you know?” Then I told him that Shyamal Gangopadhyay was writing a biographical novel on Bibhuti Bhushan in Sananda and I found his name there. It was written there that Bibhuti Bhushan was a teacher in Khelat Chandra Memorial Institution in North Calcutta and Abir Lal along with his friends accompanied Bibhuti babu to his mess bari in Surja Sen Street (erstwhile Mirjapur Street). Bibhuti babu offered them ‘soan papri’ and asked Abir Lal how he was doing his ‘lathi khela’ despite a small frame. Now listening to this Abir Lal dadu got nostalgic. He sat down, took away his spectacles, cleared them and started going down memory lane. He told me that I was right indeed. He was in class VII when this incident happened. He spoke fondly of Bibhuti babu. He told me how great a teacher he was and how sensitive a man he was. Then he told me that on the day of my release he will present me something. It was a pleasant surprise for me when he presented me a copy of his book named “Amar Shikshak Bibhuti Bhushan” published by Mitra & Ghosh in 1996. In the front page he signed and presented it to me. I was more than glad and it became my proud possession. 
 

Post-release when I visited him he asked me what was the book by Bibhuti babu on his experience of Khelat Chandra Institution? When I told it was Anubartan and I have read it he was so happy. It was not only his affection that elated me but he made one suggestion to my mother I can never forget. He asked my mother on a visit what I wanted to become in life. Please don’t forget I was in 2nd year of B.Sc. (Honours) then. He told my mother “Sadhana, so many of your family have been illustrious teachers! Your grandfather Jogesh babu was a legendary professor in Physics in Rajabazar Science College. Murari da was a legendary surgeon and a professor in plastic surgery. Why don’t you tell your son to follow their footstep? Tell him to teach. He will do well.” I never quite forgot that!

How happy he would have been to see me today as a teacher!

PS: The book on Bibhubhushan by Abir Lal Mukherjee was a great one. It showed his association with Bibhuti babu as a student and then his association with their family after Bibhuti babu’s death. It also had a glimpse of Calcutta of late thirties and early forties. He wrote how Bibhuti babu used to teach them Bangla, Geography, History. It has some rare information on Bibhuti babu’s life – how Bibhuti babu finished his education with the help of his teachers, how he evolved as a writer and how he influenced students. If he scolded students he would go and lament whole evening, such a sensitive soul was he.

Dr. Mukherjee was also a good elocutionist. I remember him reciting Rabindra Nath’s ‘Ebar Firao Mor e’ on ‘Aaj Raat e’ in Calcutta FM flawlessly. I remember one of his splendid article “Shobdo Brahmo na Shobdo Doitya?” about the menaces of noise pollution in Ananda Bazar Patrika in 1996.

RIP Dr. Abir Lal Mukherjee. These days they don’t make them like that anymore.

Wednesday 27 February 2013

A Tribute to Kishore Chatterji




I would like to pay a tribute to Mr. Kishore Chatterji, a renowned artist, art critic and a proponent of Western Classical Music (WCM) who passed away in 2011.
 
My father Sambhunath Chatterji knew Kishore babu. Kishore Chatterji worked for Tribeni Tissues in HR where my father also worked as a civil engineer. My association with Mr.Chatterji started in 1993 when I started reading his booklet ‘Western Classical Music for Children’ published in a newsletter of Tribeni Tissues, a division of ITC Ltd. I did not harbor any particular liking for WCM at that time. I was busy with my higher secondary studies. Occasional strains of Mozart or Beethoven used to enter my ears as my father used to listen to them while playing cassettes. When I got bedridden for 7 months in 1993 following a bike accident I got hold of his booklet and seriously started listening to WCM. And what pleasure I had! His book not only introduced different forms e.g. concerto, symphony, sonata etc; brief biographies of the composers and anecdotes but also had a must-listen list of concerto, symphony, sonata etc. This got me hooked for life to WCM. I recovered from the injury and joined college. Later on I attended a Western Classical Music appreciation seminar in Max Mueller Bhavan where I heard him giving a talk along with Adi Gazdar, Bulbul Sircar, Prosanto Dutt. I started collecting cassettes and making note of WCM in movies and ad jingles. I believe the power of western classical music had a healing effect because I recovered quite fast. I relayed this view to him in a letter in 1997 to which he sent me a warm reply. He replied to my surprise asking me to visit him. I attach the letter here.

 

I met him and he took me to my first WCM concert that I attended in Calcutta School of Music. He copied from his collection the music of Beethoven, Mozart, Rossini, Paganini, JC Bach, CPE Bach into at least 12 cassettes for us which I treasure till date. I used to read his columns The Classical Gas and The Strings Attached in The Statesman and sometimes used to answer his quizzes.  I used to cut those pieces and collect in a folder but I lost them since I shifted base so many times. I still miss those articles. I bought one of his Bangla books "Pulu pelo Piano" published by Aajkaal in 2000. I attended many of his programmes on WCM in Max Mueller Bhavan. One notable programme was in 1999 where girls from Shantiniketan sang tagore's songs of death and wherein he presented western composers' idea of death exemplified by music from his vast collection. I attended one of his art show also in Tollygunge Aurobindo Ashram. It was his collage show. I remember his another paiting show on mentally ill persons. He actually visited Institute of Psychiatry in Kolkata and painted their inner thoughts by continuously interacting with them. That was his one of his greatest art works bordering on abstract.


Then I moved to different places on account of my job and academic pursuit and lost touch with him. My father informed me of his demise. I bid him adieu. May his soul rest in peace. He will certainly be missed by Western Classical Music lovers of Calcutta, many of whom, like me, got initiated into this genre of music.