Month: February 2007

Mixed with Tears

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Today, I found that my post on the Cauvery has been linked by Daily News & Analysis (DNA) as blogosphere buzz without my prior knowledge. Of course, its never needed 😉 .

Its a mere casual backtracking that I reached there to my surprise. Though this post I wrote with a casual approach, and for the time being it feels nice to be selected as top 5 blog post on the issue, alongwith the write ups of hardcore bloggers Kamala Bhatt and Desi Critique in the page of DNA. This rewarding casual approach is the outcome of my serious thought on the inspirational lines of  presenting with the natural style of the write up to the readers .

“Mixed with Tears” , This is the abstract heading, DNA gave to my write up on ‘Dividing Cauvery Water’ ! Yes, they are correct to the 6th sense.

Geetanjali In Bengali Unicode

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“Geetanjali” literally means Geet(Song) + Anjali(Offerings) = “Song Offerings” to the God.

I have started the conversion of Kaviguru’s Nobel prize winning serenade to God, Geetanjali, in Bengali unicode. To the great genius Rabindranath Tagore, my efforts will be just a piece of respect after expanding its reach in the era of Internet. The word ‘Geetanjali’ is in some places written as ‘Gitanjali’ and it is as per Bengali pronunciation,its Gitanjoli. And I guess the ‘Geetanjali’ word seems better.

The need of hour is, I could not locate his original poems in unicode format on the net, though partial translations are there. Though It will require a lot of expertise for doing the translation as per my current level of confidence, thus I shall put only the Roman transription alongwith.

আমার কথায় গান ভরে দাও

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হে পরমা, আমার মা,
সুবোধ দাও, আমায় তুমি,
আলোকিত কর, আমার গান ।
কুলহারা এই দেসে,
অপুর্ন আমার বানী,
আজি কেন হার মেনেছি ।

বিবেকের ছায়াসংগী তুমি,
বীনাখানি বাজায় আমি,
ব্যাকুল কন্ঠ গান ভর ।
জেনে সবার মনের কথা আমি ,
কে আপন, কে পর ভুলে,
আজি সেই কথার সমীরে,
আমি মাধুরী ভোরে দিতে চাই ।

আমার কথায় গান ভরে দাও ।

Roman transcription:
He parama, Aamar ma,
subodh dao, aamay tumi,
aalokit karo, aamar gaan,
kulhara aie dese,
Apurna aamar bani,
Aaji haar menechi.

Vivekar chhayasangi tumi,
Vinakhani bajai aami,
Vyakul konthe gaan bhoro,
Jene sobar moner kotha aami,
Ke aapon, ke por bhule,
Aaji sei kothar somire,
Aami madhuri bhore dite chai.

Aamar kothai gaan bhore dao.

(P.S. Please do suggest for spelling mistake(s) in Bengali text here.)

सपने और सच

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कुछ देखा मैनें, अनजाने में,
ज्यों ही बंद की थी आँखें,
सोच रहा, सच है या सपना,
याद आता वो मन मंदिर,
जहाँ हम-तुम कल मिले थे ।

क्यों जीना चाहता हूँ – मैं,
उन्हीं चिरकल्पित सपनों में,
खुब हँसा, खुद पे, आज फिर ।
पता है, तुमसे भी ज्यादा सच्चे हैं,
तुम्हारी प्रतिबिंब,  मेरे सपनों में ।

पर क्यों डरता हूँ, जगने से मैं,
सोया नहीं हूँ, पर आँखें बंद हैं,
कहीँ झुठला न जाए, मेरा एक सपना,
और दिखे, खड़े उस आईने में तुम नहीं ।
और सपनों में ही, खोये थे तुम कहीं ।

क्या मानोगे, फिर तुम कभी,
इन शब्दों में, हाँ मैनें तुम्हें देखा है ।
फिर भी मेरी कोई शिकवा नहीं,
कोई शिकायत नहीं रही कभी ।
क्योंकि, शब्दों में, तुम सच सही ।

Dividing Cauvery Water

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Today, some violence seemed to have occurred in some sensitive parts of the town. The issue has been so called unfavourable decision towards Karnataka, by Supreme Court’s on distribution of the Cauvery’s water among four states.

Last time in 1991, on the announcement of such decision the riots occurred, taking several lives. Hence today, thousands of police personal are deputed in some areas. Though I could not see any affect in my locality and even far around. Life is as usual to my eyes.

Cauvery OriginI have seen the origin place of the Cauvery river, the Tal-Cauvery hills, from where Cauvery originates. Before seeing this, I have seen only the Ganga, the Godavari and the Mahanadi with their mighty existence. On first sight of the Cauvery, I could not believe that the comparatively narrow river can be of such an importance. Being the rivers on hills, though flow rate is high, but width is quite less. Now presently, instead of measuring its length and width of a river as a geologist, I would like to call her as lean – thin mighty mother of four states’ farmers.

The mother is prayed, at the origin. People take holy water from there, calling it Dakshini Ganga (southern Ganga). The mother comes down with all joys and the willingness to meet her children to Cauvery in hills, in the rainy seasonfeed them. And down the line, among children it needs division, as if why she can’t feed all her children to their satisfaction!

The materialistic world, with more population, with human drawn boundaries in between stands the capital of Karnataka, Bangalore – with all its glory. Here emotions mostly flow in the binary computer bits within the outdated hardware of equally senseless political system.

I know these issues need practical approach to solve, not a poetic language of mine. And at the same time, I do wonder, how much practical and objective decisions, think tanks at centre make. I am not sure of the political , social and economical outcome of this decision and feel equally helpless to suggest them with some (surely unheard) alternative!

And I feel at this moment is, there lies the crave for fulfilling exponentially increasing needs from the mother, than the mother holds in her bosom. Until there is an unwillingness to know about her limitations,we selfish children may suffer more. The mother always gives her best, coming down from the hills, to the children herself. Everything can be resolved if we can really talk the matter among we so  called intellectuals, out of those our drawn state boundaries. I am not sure, whether I will be able to taste the water, when the Cauvery’s water gets mixed up with her tears, on these sad occasions !

Those grey walls.

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Walking down the evenings,
Along those old walls- high,
Those faint bass and trebles,
Tied me with a string along,
Is that the souce, if  I am not wrong?


Legs moving on the road,
Sounds entered through ears,
I kept walking still attached,
There , these sounds seemed
Kept me filling – My vacuum.


Instinct again told – only truth,
Those drum beats, as if hundreds,
Metals clings, and my heart sings,
They reached me, across walls,
Across the high walls, barbed.


Boundaryless sounds reached me,
Inspiring  high trees shed leaves,
Infinite blue rays reached my eyes.
Everything came to my path.
I could not cross, ignoring them.


Trees want me close and near,
Sounds I want to hear and near,
I want to be near radiating lights,
So near I reached, still far away.
I can reach them, I again felt today.


And stands a wall, between two worlds,
A wall to stop me, keep me away,
Those barbed wires, to tear my skin.
Till I bleed,  I feel a pull towards.
I have to still reach, where I can !


One day, I shall sing this, on stage,
Near to trees, in a bright night,
To quench, thirsty soul of years.
Near to drums, to hit one of them,
Triumph before death, O’ Amen !

– 03/02/06

Past to Present 5 – Milk to Kheer

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I was just few months old, fully depending on Ma, impatient baby, crying enough to get her up without delay from very early mornings sleep.

Those days again, Papa’s left leg pain recurred severely. Failing all tiring massages and local treatment, Maa, mostly alone that time, with all took him to Kurji Hospital, Patna, with all her courage, limited money and jewellery . There he needed Mylogram of spinal cord. Its a very painful and expensive process. Once Mylogram was done, doctors declared that there is tumour in the spinal cord’s specific vein, hence the pain in connecting leg, hence only operation is the only alternative.

He could not be admitted to Kurji Hospital, as that was out of our financial reach. The only option remained was govt hospital , PMCH. But with a baby of 2 months, general ward was a painful option for her and operation will require at least 3 months of stay.

There used to be cabin type rooms in hospitals, but the place of Bihar’s capital, Patna and availablity of cabin for common poeple was almost impossible, and those cabin gets booked in advance. Somehow she got the information that some cabin no. — is vacant. But the respective official denied any vacancy altogether.

She reconfirmed about the vacancy again, from the less imporant persons of hospital – the peons, and returned to Kurzi to feed me, cook food for themselves.

I must had seen all the things from their laps with my little open eyes !

Next day was Friday, again her constant want for answer with destiny and the Almighty, she left room in very morning after puja, and went directly to the residence of health minister of Bihar. A simple saree clad young woman, waiting for Health minister in morning. The other persons told her to take an appointment with his PA, and get slip. She kept silent and waited another hour.

As health minister came out of house and hurried to white ambassador, she walked from side and stood in front of her, folding her palms in the gesture of pranaam. Seeing a young married woman in this gesture, his humanity speak out, ” Beti kya pareshani hai tumhe”.

“Sir mere husband ka spinal cord ka operation PMCH mein hona hai, aur saath mein 2 mahine ka beta hain humara. Suna hai cabin no … khali hai. Agar aapki kripa ho to aap mujhe woh dilwa sakte hain. Badi kripa hoti”. Without delay, he ordered his PA to call hospital authorities and book the cabin”

White Ambassador started off. And carried the infinite blessings of a lone woman.

She came back Kurzi and took prasad and did all mother’s and wife’s duties. What she took, I am not sure. She hurried off to the Hospital again.

She was standing and waiting for busy authorities’ attention, again for a cabin request. The officer saw her standing again. Now he was out of control. He fired back on her shouting ,” Mam, after repeatedly saying, why don’t you understand that the room is not vacant. You people never understand. See today Health Minister’s own people are coming. The room is booked for them. “

“You wouldn’t believe, see its booked in the name of M.P.Das” – he showed her the register.

She took out her paper calmly, that was given by health minister’s PA in my father’s name. Seeing the same name and the confidence of lone lady, he was dumb-struck. He called the peon and chairs, tea was being ordered, now useless to her.

He got admitted and got cured well (miraculously with both legs sound) after months of stay.

I learnt to take turns, crawl on hospital cabin floors. May be so, I have been dedicated to do something for hospitals. With the growth, my tooth grew one day , suddenly Ma observed. My annaprashana function could not be done.

Before growing teeth, Annaprashan is the function when Mama ji gives the first cereal to the baby as kheer prasadam. After that only the baby can be given whole cereals. And Ma did a small homely puja at hospital cabin and thought to give me cereals.

At the time there was one caretaker girl, brought from home, Bimla (didi). She disclosed the fact that she used to feed me milk and rice since many days before as I seemed to ask from her daily.

Maa was looking into her eyes and smiled at young girl Bimla didi and her care for me.

Wanna Go Home !

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I have planned to go home towards this month end to perform some necessary customs of Mama :), its a conincidence of Holi celebrations too. And to me, from today itself, its really started nostalgic feeling .

Strange is the fact that, as I grew older and came to Bangalore, this intensity also grew stonger. The most important factor is having worked in home-town for more than two years  enjoying the circle of my owns. At that time, other people seemed happy (some envious) of my place of employment.

Though same feeling was there in hostel days too, when we used to wait for vacations to start, but the intensity was comparatively less as then time used to pass-off easily with friends and classes. Only on the last day, I used to count hours and minutes waiting for Papa.

Presently may its the single status, that makes me nostalgic. But sometimes I do worry, whether this attachment towards home will remain same, once I will be settled down, with more liabilities and time constraint !